Page 29 of The Doctor and the Devil
I ignored the threat and inclined my head. “If you can call this life,” I retorted.
A glint of surprise flashed in his eyes. “What else would you call it?”
“Where I am from, we call it a curse.”
“Only the self-righteous would call immortality a curse,” he snarled. “For those of us who lived human lives scraping barely enough existence from the boots of everyone above us, immortality is yet another means to an end.”
“What end is that?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Survival.”
Two tankards of foul-smelling ale landed in front of us, practically thrown by a nervous tavern maid. I saw a hint of sadness tug at my companion’s features and laughed.
“So you have been a vampire long enough to understand one of the varied costs ofsurvival—the inability to drown one’s loneliness and sorrows in spirits.” I raised my mug to him. “To you, Captain, and your health.”
He nodded at me, downed the entire tankard at once, and grimaced.
“You’re not here on behalf of the English, the Dutch, or the French,” he rumbled. “So, you’re not here to try and hang us for piracy. It’s been some time since we’ve been out to sea—long enough that our ship is probably more barnacle than timber, which makes me think this ain’t some ill-advised revenge scheme. And I’m sure you aren’t foolhardy enough to set out just to test the legend of the ‘damned and damning Lucien the Bloodless.’ Why are you here, then, old master?”
“I’m looking for someone,” I answered.
“I thought you were looking for me,” he said wryly.
“I’m here for your maker,” I replied. “Perhaps you might point me to the vampire who turned you.”
A condescending laugh scraped up through his chest and spilled forth from his lips.
“Thatwouldbe telling,” he said. “I’m no rat. A man’s maker is his own business.”
“Normally, I would agree with you,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “And truly, I’m loath to pry into any man’s personal affairs. But I’m afraid it’s rather important.”
“As is my honor,” he replied.
“Come now,” I soothed. “Honor is a luxury men like us cannot afford.”
“Perhaps our honor is all we have,” he argued.
I tilted my head. Without looking, I sensed that the remaining tavern patrons had left their seats and were shuffling toward the door. Four more grizzled, grim sailors stepped into the room, forming a barricade against the front door. The tavern maid and the barkeep scurried away into a back room, keenly aware of impending trouble.
I swirled the ale in the bottom of my tankard as two more men filed in, blocking off the back door that led to the adjacent docks.
“You say honor is all you have, and yet you think to ambush me with ten men?” I tutted.
“T’ain’t an ambush, old master,” the captain replied. “Just a precaution. We don’t like strangers coming around here asking questions they ought not be asking.”
“Captain.” I sighed. “I have enjoyed our small chat, and I have afforded you the respect I think a man like you deserves. My patience, however, has its limits, so I’ll ask you politely once more. Will you tell me who your maker was?”
The old man grinned at me, his yellowed fangs lengthening with the challenge.
“I will not.”
His men stepped forward on hesitant, yet loyal, feet.
“Alas, I’d hoped to keep this friendly,” I said, downing the rest of the bitter ale. “It’s too bad. I rather liked the idea of a crew of vampire pirates marauding around the sea, plundering unsuspecting ships in the middle of the night. I’ll try to spare some of you.”
The two sailors on my right and left sides lunged at once, seizing both of my arms. They hauled me up while another vampire smashed one of the chairs, plucked one of the sharp legs from the pile of splintered wood, and drove it into my chest. I grunted with the force of it, and it hurt like the devil, but it was almost worth the pain to watch their faces fall when the realization dawned that I wasn’t expiring like some commonly turned vampire. In shock, the men at my sides loosened their grip, and I shoved them back.
With a deep growl, I pulled the stake from my chest and the wound began to knit together almost immediately. Captain Lucien gaped at me, confusion and fear playing at the lines on his weathered face.
