Night’s Reckoning: An Elemental Legacy Novel Page 27

  I don’t want beautiful eyes. I want my eyes.

  “I’m not furious,” he said carefully.

  “Not even at Tenzin?” Her voice was odd. “Because I am.”

  “You’re furious at Tenzin?”

  “And grateful at the same time.” She wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, Ben.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders. “You’re such a crier.”

  “I know. Gio says he’s not letting me watch any Christmas movies this year.”

  “Blasphemy.” He rubbed her shoulder. “I’m going to miss Christmas this year.”

  “No you won’t. Gio already bought you a Nocht-compatible phone and tablet. Top of the line. He knew you’d go crazy if you didn’t have your phone.”

  “I love you guys.”

  She smiled a little. “Because we brought you a smartphone?”

  “No. Because you’re my parents—my real ones anyway—and you know me better than anyone, and you’re here.” He hugged her again. “I love you.”

  Giovanni watched through a crack in the doorway while Beatrice comforted their son. Because Ben was—no matter his biology—their son.

  In Giovanni’s fondest dreams, Ben asked him or Beatrice to sire him. He chose a safe place to turn when he was ready, away from prying eyes and the curious immortal world. Someplace he could spend time in the sun before he said goodbye. Someplace he could spend time with family and friends. Someplace he loved and was surrounded by love.

  Cochamó. Giovanni had wanted Ben to change in Cochamó, protected by Carwyn’s clan, in the house where he’d spent so many summers and holidays. A place away from the world, a place that felt like a second home.

  Zhang walked down the hallway, carrying a tray of hot water and teacups.

  “You didn’t have to bring it,” Giovanni said. “I forgot your human servants would be gone.”

  “It’s fine.” Zhang said. “Tai is still waiting by the phone if Tenzin needs to call us. And no host should ever be ashamed to serve guests in his home.”

  Giovanni tensed when Zhang said her name. “Where is she?”

  “Looking for the vampire who killed your son.” The corner of Zhang’s mouth turned up. “Or did you think that was me?”

  Giovanni waited to answer. He wanted to make sure he didn’t disrespect the eldest elder of Penglai Island, but there was something he needed to say.

  “Many years ago,” he started, “we had a conversation.”

  “Yes,” Zhang said. “When your ward and my daughter began working as partners. I remember this conversation.”

  “If you remember it, why did you ignore my wishes?”

  Zhang didn’t look offended. He lifted his chin and watched Ben and Beatrice where they sat on the couch. “He is your son in all ways but blood.”

  “He is.”

  The elder turned his gaze back to Giovanni. “What man is there, who if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone?”

  Giovanni’s heart hurt. It was more than sorrow he saw in Zhang’s eyes; it was understanding. Recognition.

  “You could have told her no.”

  “No,” Zhang said. “I couldn’t have.”

  “And what did she offer you in exchange?” Giovanni knew it wouldn’t be nothing. That might have been how his and Ben’s relationship worked, but that wasn’t Zhang and Tenzin.

  “In exchange?” Zhang turned his eyes back to Ben. “What my daughter offered is between her and me. But know this: she sacrificed far more than you could ever understand.”

  32

  Tenzin called Cheng when she arrived in Taipei and confirmed that Jimmu and his daughter knew she was on the island for the day but wouldn’t be staying long. All Tenzin wanted to do was question some humans about Arion’s Flight, find as much information as she could, and take off again.

  Normally Tenzin didn’t worry about her security during the day. No, she couldn’t be in the sun, but she didn’t sleep. She could protect herself. But since her short spell of sleep the afternoon before, she knew she could take no chances. She wanted a room with multiple locks and an entry completely exposed to the light. And she didn’t want anyone’s humans to know where she slept.

  The small room Cheng recommended suited her perfectly. She secured multiple locks and moved large furniture in front of the door before she took the sheets from the bed to make herself a pallet on the floor of the narrow closet.

  Tenzin felt the dawn come, but she didn’t tire. She checked the time and realized that it was night in New York, so she called Gavin. Gavin knew more about getting information online than she did.

  The Scotsman’s face came on the screen. He was already frowning. “Tenzin?”

  Tenzin spoke plainly. “I know Chloe probably isn’t speaking to me right now, but I thought you might.”

  “Was he dying?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  “Then there’s no problem between you and me.”

  Tenzin felt a weight on her heart lighten. “Chloe knows?”

  “Aye.” Gavin cleared his throat. “She doesn’t hate you, Tenzin. No one does. We all knew what Ben said, but—”

  “Ben hates me.” She tried to keep her voice and expression even, but she didn’t know if she succeeded.

  Gavin’s voice was soft. “No, Tenzin. He can’t. Not really.”

  She cleared her throat. “I need information if I’m going to find the vampire who did this, and I’m not sure how to get it. I would usually ask Ben, but he won’t talk to me, and he’s in Penglai, so he doesn’t have a computer anyway.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Information on a ship called Arion’s Flight. I can see that it’s registered in the Seychelles, but other than that—”

  “Give me about twenty minutes,” Gavin said. “I’ll call you back.”

  He hung up, and Tenzin placed her tablet in the far end of the closet. She took shelter in the darkness, focusing on the smell of sea air and the dull sounds of the busy street by the waterfront.

  It was twenty-three minutes later that Gavin called back.

  “Incoming call from Gavin Wallace,” Cara said.

  “Accept call.”

  Gavin’s face popped on-screen, and he looked almost cheerful, which Tenzin took as a good sign. “Arion’s Flight belongs to a Kenyan businessman—”

  “I knew that.”

  “—who works with an Egyptian multinational—”

  “I need to find it, Gavin. Just tell me what the range is. Do you have the specs?”

  He looked irritated to have been interrupted twice, but Tenzin didn’t care. “I’ll send you an email with the full specs, but assuming they’re running at a typical cruising speed, I’d say you’re going to be looking at ports three to four days apart. It’s going to have to refuel in that time.”

  “Three to four days.”

  “Assume three if they’re being cautious. You never want to stretch your fuel at sea.”

  “Three days then.” She pulled up a mental map. “Which ports would be within three days of Taipei? I don’t know the oceans by sea.”

  “Where is the vessel heading?”

  “To Alitea.”

  Gavin didn’t speak.

  Tenzin looked at the screen. “It was Saba’s daughter who did this.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.” Tenzin shook her head. “Why does everyone assume that Saba is some kind of benevolent earth mother? She nearly destroyed an entire island because her son got a cold. She has roughly the same level of human morals that I do.”

  Gavin said, “So… almost none.”

  “Human morals change all the time, Gavin! They make no sense. None.”

  He held up his hands. “I’m not going to argue with you. I was just surprised Saba was behind this. If they’re headed to the Mediterranean, they’ll be going south. Think… Manila. Hong Kong, obviously. Hainan. Brunei is too far. Singapore is too far.”

  “Manila, Hong Kong, Hainan.” Tenzin nodded.
“It will be one of those.”

  “Which one is the least likely? They know people will be looking for them.”

  “Possibly. They might not care. Saba’s people are arrogant.”

  “What are you going to do? The ocean is a big place.”

  “I’m going to catch them before they can enter the Indian Ocean. I may not catch them in their first port, but I’ll catch them in their second.”

  “Whoever did this—”

  “Trust me.” She met Gavin’s eyes on the screen. An ocean separated them. They had never been particular friends. But they were linked by one person. “I will end them all.”

  She went out that night at dusk, walking among the sailors and crews of the luxury yachts that filled the marina. There were two types of lives in every port. The lives of people with money and the lives of people who worked. Tenzin was interested in the latter.

  She went directly to the first fuel station she could find and walked up to the man in the fanciest uniform. Before he could even register what was happening, she grabbed his hand and drew him to the side.

  “What—?”

  “Shhhhh.” She let her amnis wash up his arm. She could see the dizzy expression in his eyes when her influence reached his mind. “Arion’s Flight. A boatload of mysterious and wealthy East Africans. Tell me what you know.”

  “They didn’t buy fuel here.” He muttered some disgusting racist epithet until Tenzin squeezed his wrist so hard he winced.

  “Be quiet. Where did they buy fuel?”

  “At Bristol. I think.” His words were starting to slur.

  “Where is that?”

  He pointed in a general direction and Tenzin let him go. “Sit on the ground right now.”

  It would serve him right to dirty up his spotless white uniform. Humans could be idiots.

  Tenzin walked outside and headed the direction the human had pointed. She spotted a sign in the distance that looked right and walked down the stairs leading to the smaller fuel dock where a man in blue coveralls was working.

  She didn’t use amnis. For now.

  “I need information on a boat called Arion’s Flight.”

  The man in blue narrowed his eyes. “I know it. Not here. Left two nights ago.”

  “I know that. Did it buy a full tank of gas?” Did they call it gas if it was for a boat? “Fuel?”

  The man crossed his arms. “Why do you need to know? They weren’t causing trouble for anyone.”

  “I’m trying to contact a person on the boat. Family emergency.”

  The man still looked reluctant, so Tenzin stepped closer, making herself look as innocent as she could. She tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled sweetly. That usually set human men at ease.

  “I promise.” She got close enough to feel his body heat and smell his blood. “I’m really trying to contact them for a good reason. They don’t have a satellite phone and—”

  “If you know the family, there must be a way—”

  Tenzin grabbed his arm, gripping her fingers around his wrist and letting her influence work up his skin and into his mind.

  “I didn’t want to do this,” she murmured. “But tell me everything you know about Arion’s Flight.”

  “Strange people,” he murmured. “Never saw the owners. Crew disembarked. They had only been hired in Hong Kong. Flying back.”

  “They hired new crew?”

  “Yessss.” The man began to slur. “Short trip to…”

  “Short trip where?”

  “Phil…lippines. Good money. Flight back.”

  “They were going to the Philippines? To Manila?”

  “Not Manila. Mm…”

  “M what?

  “Mm-indoro. R-right across from… Batangas. Bay there. Weather coming.”

  Ah yes, the unpredictable storm season in the South China Sea. If there was a natural bay in the Philippine Islands, the boat would have to take shelter there. Not even vampires were invulnerable to typhoons.

  Well, except Tenzin.

  “Thank you.” She let go of his arm. “You’ve been an enormous help.”

  The storm system moved across the ocean like a slow-moving shroud. Tenzin flew above it, watching the billowing grey clouds bunch up like a mountain range, battering the sea beneath them with the power of the wind and rain.

  She waited in a cloud of calm air, having spotted the bay the night before. There weren’t many yachts in the harbor, and most of those would have been protected and anchored while the humans aboard took shelter on land.

  But Arion’s Flight wasn’t an ordinary luxury yacht. There would be humans and there would be vampires. They were carrying a symbol that could bring peace or spark war. Protecting it was the only option they had.

  Tenzin flew down into the storm, letting herself whip through the torrent and twist in the roiling power. She was soaked to the skin, but that didn’t matter when the wind was so intense. She was hooked up to a live current, her amnis growing bigger and bigger, nearly bursting through her skin.

  She halted in the middle of the storm, pushing her hands outward and creating a bubble of silence in the midst of the typhoon.

  She closed her eyes and saw butterflies—every wing the color of blood—in a riot surrounding her, spiraling up and over the typhoon, thrown by the wind across the endless sky.

  “You blew on that. Doesn’t count.”

  Tenzin exhaled, adding her own breath to the storm. She hovered over the churning bay as boats rocked in their moorings and the humans huddled in their caves.

  “You blew on that. Doesn’t count.”

  “It’s the only thing that counts. A butterfly flaps her wings and all your preparation and work mean nothing.”

  “So what’s the point of playing the game? What’s the point of any game?”

  “The point”—she spotted a single lit boat in the distance—“is winning.”

  Tenzin speared down toward the water, circling the bay in silence as she scanned the terrain. The deep bay was surrounded by mountains and shielded from the worst of the typhoon, but it was still on the ragged edge. Boats bobbed like toys; every vessel but one was deserted. She approached silently, shielded from the wind and rain by her amnis.

  All the guards had retreated inside. She made one circle. Two. There were two vampires visible through windows. Two humans above them on the bridge. Another human leaned against an outside door, trying to smoke a cigarette in the gusting wind.

  No sign of Johari, but Tenzin knew she had the right boat.

  Wet hair plastered to her cheeks, Tenzin landed on the railing across from the human who was trying to smoke. He looked up and his eyes went wide when she crouched down to eye level and bared her teeth.

  “Run.” She snarled, and he jumped to the deck, running toward the rear tender. Tenzin lifted her hand and forced the wind through the door. It broke with a giant crash, and she strode inside.

  She stepped onto the relative calm of the bridge, water streaming from her clothes. She lifted a hand behind her and slammed the door shut with another spear of wind.

  One of the humans dropped to his knees and began to pray.

  Tenzin ignored him and looked at the other. “Where are they?”

  “Below.” He whispered it, cleared his throat, said it louder. “They’re below.” He pointed toward a staircase in the corner.

  “Stay here.” She walked to the stairs. “If you leave this room, I will kill you.”

  Tenzin began to descend. She could hear the water dripping below, hitting the floor under the spiral staircase like notes plucked on a harp.

  Plink. Step.

  Plop. Step.

  Ting. Step.

  The two vampires she saw when she reached the room at the bottom of the stairs didn’t look afraid, but they weren’t cocky either.

  Tenzin walked toward them, already gathering the air in the room to her fingers. “Do you know who I am?”

  “No.” The female was more nervous than the male. “And yo
u are trespassing—”

  “Liar.” Tenzin waved a hand and pinned the vampire to the far wall with the strength of her furious wind. “She told you I was coming.”

  The male didn’t waste time talking. He reached into his belt and pulled out a gun. He raised it and fired at Tenzin before she had time to gather enough air to stop it. She ducked to the side, and the bullet clipped her neck.

  She hissed and pulled the bronze blade she carried with her. She spiraled in the air, the blade held before her. The man darted to the side and pointed the gun again.

  Fighting with one vampire took her attention off holding back the other. The woman fell to the ground and crawled toward them.

  Tenzin spun and kicked the gun from the man’s hand. It flew across the room, and Tenzin hooked it with a gust of wind, bringing the firearm to her hand.

  The black metal handle slapped her palm and the gun was hers.

  Tenzin saw the woman reaching for something under a seat. She pivoted toward her, raised the gun, and fired.

  Something of Ben’s many lessons must have stuck, because even though Tenzin had never fired a gun at a vampire before, she hit her target square in the back.

  “Kendra!” The man screamed her name and ran toward her.

  Tenzin pointed the gun at him and fired again. This time she missed, so she threw the gun away and lifted her sword.

  The man wasn’t paying attention. He ran to Kendra and knelt down, baring his fangs at Tenzin. “You monster!”

  “Yes.” Tenzin plunged the sword into his side and twisted. “This won’t kill you.” She pulled the sword out. “Neither will her injuries.”

  Kendra was on the floor, blood pouring from her wounds, but none of them had pierced her spine.

  The man looked relieved for a second, until he saw Tenzin raise the blade again.

  “But this will.” Tenzin brought the sword down, severing Kendra’s head from her body. Blood splashed up, and she could feel it hot on her cheek. She turned to the man, who was screaming and trying to stand, one hand clutching the bleeding wound at his side. He searched the ground, probably looking for the gun.