Immortal War

“If you’re going to kill me, just kill me,” said the pirate captain bravely.

Lola arched an eyebrow, giving nothing away. Feeling pleasantly giddy, she sniffed the air. The aroma of different blood types commingling on the deck was utterly intoxicating. She was already contemplating the intriguing blends she could create from tonight’s harvest.

“Look here,” Captain Fallico snarled, “I’ve had enough of this! You’ve massacred my crew and taken my ship. You’re obviously going to kill me, too, so stop playing games and just get on with it, you vile, bloated vampire!”

“Bloated?” Lady Lola stepped closer to her prey, the heels of her thigh-high sharkskin boots drumming on the bloodstained deck. “Bloated? How dare you! I’m not bloated, you mortal fool. I’m eight and a half months pregnant!” She lifted her cloak and proudly displayed her belly, snug under her maternity suit. Rubbing it proudly, she stepped forward and seized Captain Fallico’s rapier from where it had fallen onto the deck in front of him.

“Live by the sword…” Lola began.

“Captain!” exclaimed Mimma.

Seeing the look in her deputy’s eyes, Lola paused. Killing a captain was a moment to savor—like uncorking a bottle long stored in the cellar and breathing in its heady perfume. Mimma must have good reason to interrupt her at a moment like this.

Behind her, Lola now heard the whistling of air, followed by a thud.

Turning, she saw her husband land on the deck, a few meters from her. Her face froze in dismay as Stukeley and Johnny dropped down on either side of him.

Rapier still poised, Lola frowned at Sidorio. “What are you doing here?” she asked, no trace of warmth in her cut-glass voice.

Sidorio’s jaw hung open. “What are you doing here? It’s almost your due date. You’re supposed to be taking it easy.” His eyes glanced protectively at his wife’s bulge.

Lola rolled her eyes. “Must we have this conversation again? There are two types of pregnant women,” she declared. “Those who lie around for months reading magazines and demanding foot rubs, and the other category, to which I belong, who continue to attend to business.”

With that, she turned away, lifted her sword, and skewered Captain Fallico.

As he fell meatily to the deck, Holly swiftly plugged in her draining apparatus and began bottling his blood. It was the last of a good haul. From the edges of the deck, others of Lola’s crew now came forward, stepping over their victims. Each carried the standard-issue black case, which now held half a dozen bottles of recently harvested pirate.

“Good work, ladies!” Lola said, standing proudly before her crew as Holly snapped shut her case and strode into position beside her. “Holly, Camille… next job for you. You know that quaint tradition the pirates have of putting a Nocturnal on each of their ships?”

The girls nodded.

“Doubtless, he or she will be hiding belowdecks,” Lola said. “Find them and bring them up to me.”

“Dead or undead?” Camille inquired.

Lola laughed lightly. “Undead, if you please. We’re going to play a little game with the opposition.” Her eyes searched the crowd. “Jessamy, Nathalie—fetch the package from The Vagabond, if you please. The rest of you can start clearing up the deck.”

At her words her crew sprang into action. Jack Fallico’s husk of a body was the first to hit the water.

“What’s going on?” Sidorio asked.

“I’ll explain later,” Lola said, hurling a set of keys toward him. As he caught them in his thick palm, she continued. “A gift to you, husband. Another ship for your burgeoning collection. Number one hundred and one, if I’m not mistaken? It was supposed to be a surprise but you’ve rather blown that.”

“Thank you,” Sidorio said, cradling the keys in his hand. He stepped forward to kiss his wife, but, at the last moment, Lola twisted her face and Sidorio found his lips thudding against her taut cheek, smooth and cold as marble.

Stukeley, Mimma, and Johnny averted their eyes. Even so, Sidorio flushed with embarrassment.

“Are you angry with me, wife?” he inquired, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Lola sighed, her breath sending a sharp spiral of smoke through the black air. “I’m furious with you,” she said. “I’m having a baby, Sid, not a lobotomy. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of business both before and after the birth.”

“Births,” Sidorio corrected her. “You’re having two babies, Lola. Our twins. The heirs to our immortal empire.”

“Yes, yes,” Lola said briskly. “Please be assured I know there are two budding Sidorios in my belly. I’m the one who gets kicked and nipped at all hours of the day and night. It seems big feet and sharp teeth run in the family.”

Sidorio smiled and extended his hand to his wife’s neck. It was as elegant as a swan’s, deceptively fragile- looking. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I acted rashly. I know I’m overprotective sometimes, but I just care about you so much.” His voice became husky. “I almost lost you once before. I can’t imagine how I’d go on if something happened to you.”

Lola’s dark eyes met her husband’s. “If something happened to me—or to your precious twins?”

The brutal barb did not throw Sidorio off track. “You know how much these children mean to me,” he said. “But you’ll never know how much you mean to me, because my love for you is a thing which defies all measure.”

At these words, Lola at last softened. “That’s very sweet,” she said, running a fingertip along the flat of Captain Fallico’s sword and bringing the bloodstained tip to her mouth. She tasted it, then nodded approvingly. The blood was surprisingly complex. She’d enjoy a glass of that later. Full of health-giving nutrients for the twins.

“Are you truly sorry, Sid?” Lola asked. “Do you promise to mend your ways?”

Sidorio nodded. “I only wish there was some way I could prove it to you.”

“Actions speak louder than words,” Lola announced decisively. She reached out and took back the ring of keys. They glimmered in the moonlight as she extended them toward the girl by her side. “Mimma, you’ve shown excellent leadership qualities of late. I think it’s high time you commanded a ship of your own.”

“Wow!” Mimma said, clearly taken by surprise. She gripped the keys tightly.

Stukeley swept her up in his arms and kissed her. “Congratulations, Captain!”

“Gee, thanks,” Mimma said, beaming broadly. “Look, here come the others!”

The captains and their deputies turned. The rank-and-file members of Lola’s crew were busy tossing dead pirates into the ocean and swabbing the deck. Through the melee strode Holly and Camille, strong-arming a terrified-looking Nocturnal. Further in the distance, Jessamy and Nathalie were also making their approach, carrying over their shoulders what looked very much like a body bag.

Holly and Camille came to a standstill, presenting the ashen-faced Nocturnal to their leader. Lola stepped forward to make a cursory examination of the man.

“You’re a poor excuse for a Vampirate,” she declared.

“I’m not a Vampirate,” he rasped. “I’m a Nocturnal. I serve Obsidian Darke and the—”

“Enough!” Lola raised a gloved hand and slapped him viciously. “You are a traitor to your kind!”

“Shall we finish him off?” Holly inquired hopefully.

Lola paused as Nathalie and Jessamy deposited the hefty package they had been carrying onto the deck.

“No,” Lola said. “No, we’ll take the little traitor with us. I’m sure we can think of some ways to bring him back to the right, true path. Take him away to The Vagabond!”

Holly and Camille dragged the helpless Nocturnal away.

Now Lola turned her attention to the body bag lying before her. It was black, with a long gold zipper glinting in the moonlight.

“Open it!” she commanded.

Jessamy crouched down and released the zipper. The others all leaned forward to see who—or what—was inside. As the mutilated body was revealed, there were gasps.