The Vampire's Crimson Kiss (Editing)

Chapter 32/the parade of the damned

It was the morning of the big hunt. The sun was still set well beneath the horizon when I boarded the boat to go up the river to the hunting grounds. As we sailed, powerful lights pointed at the land ahead. I was excited to be outside again. As we cleared the lagoon, we sailed past numerous semi-submerged derelict buildings, the rotting ghosts of cities past. The ship I was on fell behind the other boats, but I didn't notice; I was lost in thought. Being outside was wonderful; it felt like I had been freed from being pressed under a rock. Out here, I could get a little perspective. I looked at the boat familiars; they were dirty and poorly fed. I realized how much like the vampires I was, well-made clothes, clean. In my excitement, I had chattered in the shadow tongue with Valencia on the way down. I could see people in the docks flinch at my words in the black tongue. I could hear myself use the same words for the common people they did - sequath (larder fodder), achmela dirty (cabbage eaters); out here, it felt different.

Mary was worried; she walked aft and spoke to the captain. He stood in a small cabin behind the wheel. The captain bore the familiars' mark on his neck but had an unshaved beard and lank knotted hair. He was clearly used to being the master of his own boat. I walked round and stood out of sight overhearing what he and Mary said. Even from where I stood, I could smell the water jugfrath.

"Take the south route," said Mary to the captain.

"Why would that be, girl? You are no domina now, jumped-up governess, head ass wiper is what I heard. You can't tell me to do anything," said the captain.

Mary walked closer to the captain. "HE thinks touring too much deprivation off the west end will put the girl off hunting. I may be a governess, but that doesn't mean I can't get you on her punishment list."

In theory, as consort, I could have anyone punished for anything I made up, just like the Duke. Typically, they would mean add servants to the list for disobedience. Mary promoted the fiction that I was a mean, vicious, callous bitch. The vampires loved it, so I didn't spoil her fun.

"I've heard Silver Neck has a black heart with a whip," said the Captain.

"You better believe it. I am a biddable woman, but I have more red lines on my back than the American flag," lied Mary. "So are you changing course?"

"Silver Neck," I wondered, is that what they call me? The captain looked at Mary and pondered the merits of engaging in a stand-up argument with the Balham Butcher.

"For those rounded tits, anything," he said, turning the wheel, and the ship began to heel in the water.

I had been up long before dusk, getting ready. I wore a thick riding skirt, and my feet were buried in knee-length patent high-heeled boots, which were tightly laced up the front. I had taken to covering my silver collar and other silver jewelry as a way of not putting a certain Duke off. This morning, Mary had suggested wearing the silver more proudly, "In case some of them work up a bloodlust." she said with great diplomacy. 

I walked around to the back of the boat, where a couple of coven dominas stood near the railings. With the exception of the silver collar and absence of fangs, I looked like them – immaculate pale complexion, dark sunglasses, oxblood lips on the sensual side of black, an elegant veil, and riding crops flicking impatiently in the air. They seemed to be enjoying themselves despite the dangers of sunlight. I knew their kind, I knew them because I was practically one of them.

Mary came around, "Princess," she began, "I think Electra made sure you got the slowest ship. She wants you to be last; she might have some surprise when you arrive. By going this way, we will save time and catch up."

Mary had explained more than she should about coven politics. There were three main factions – supporters of the Duke naturally. Then there were 'the ghosts of anarchy,' supporters of a former familiar, now a vampire called Tearman. Tearman's supporters were mostly new, post-apocalypse vampires. They didn't have the burden of hundreds of years of history, so they tended to sell themselves as being more forward-thinking. Forward-thinking meant testing and selecting new familiars from the best of the whole population rather than salvaging from the prisoners and volunteers as the Duke did. Historically, the vampires had hidden themselves, taking only the unnoticed dregs of society. It was easy to hide the blood holes on the needle marks of a junkie. When they sired, the vampires tended to turn the broken jetsam of civilization into their kind.