The Vampire Pirate's Daughter Page 2

  Weirdly, although I have never seen this woman before, I trusted her with my life. I thought this strange, because I have never been a very trusting person. I have grown up secluded and the only people I have ever socialized with were my father and the servants. As it was, before I became ill, I was in pleading negotiations with my father regarding my coming-out. He believed that there was no need for me to come out and he promised me that he would never marry me off to anybody. When he said this, he had a strange melancholy in his voice. He did not explain himself though.

  I nodded my head weakly toward this striking girl, while her eyes held mine captive.

  “You are a very special girl, Susanna. If you agree, I will show you a way that will make you feel better. It will make all this hurt go away. When last did you eat?”

  I thought back and I could not remember when last I had a meal. I remember that the idea of food revolted me. I could not even contemplate letting food pass my lips and nobody in the kitchen could tempt me. I replied weakly, “I cannot remember.”

  “If you agree, you will soon feel much better. First, though, I have to explain it all to you. Would you be able to stay awake, because it is important that you hear what I have to say?”

  I nodded my head again.

  She moved her head away from mine, breaking the spell between us and she looked toward my father thoughtfully for a brief moment.

  She leaned closer to me again, but she kept her face in front of mine. I could see her lips move, but I could not hear her, as she said, “Francois here is not your biological father.”

  As sick as I was, I still recoiled and wheezed croakily.

  She smiled reassuringly and took my hand resting on my chest into hers. “Do not fret, girl. You will soon understand everything. Your mom, Susanna came to France about twenty years ago. However, a pirate ship attacked the ship that gave her passage. A pirate, by the name of William kidnapped your mother, but she escaped or he let her go.” She smiles. “Maybe a bit of both. When your mother saw Francois, she did find him appealing, but Francois fell in love with Susanna undeniably. The path for the rest of his life was decided in that moment when he first saw your mother. However, no matter what he did, he would never have been able to stop the events that unfolded themselves. Francois has an evil streak in him, and he was very pompous and arrogant, a completely different person before your mother died. He thought that if he wanted something, he could have it no matter what and nobody could stand in his way. The pirate, William felt drawn to your mother, so he came to France and when he saw her again, he was forever hers. Your mother however chose Francois, because if she chose William she would have had to live at night.”

  I frowned confused.

  “I will explain it all to you.” She smiled kindly. “Francois started cheating on your mother, more to protect his own feelings. He loved your mother so much, yet she did not love him in return. I think Francois went astray somewhere, because then he did everything to push Susanna away, instead of drawing her closer to him.”

  I looked toward the man I thought was my father. He loved me and he often said that I resurrected him after the death of my mother. I knew he loved her and that he still did. Over the last sixteen years, he had never gone out and always stayed home. I knew that he adored me and would do everything for me.

  The girl continued softly, “Your mother realized that she had made the wrong choice the night she made the decision to stay with Francois. Years later, she chose to leave Francois and follow William into the night. On the ship back from England to France, your mother and William made love and they decided to run away together once they were back in France.”

  I heard the man who remained just inside the shadows sneer.

  The girl ignored him and she continued, “Francois returned unexpectedly and sadly your real father, William died that day without even knowing about you. He did leave you a legacy though - a choice you will have to make today. You see, your father, William, was a vampire.”

  I shut my eyes and I opened my mouth to scream for help, but she put her hand softly over my lips. She looked into my eyes deeply and for some peculiar reason this calmed me.

  She continued softly, whilst holding her cold fingers over my lips, “There is an entire community of vampires and you should not be afraid, because we are just like you. We have now come to the most important part, the part where you have to make a choice. You will either die before dawn or you can choose to become one of us.”

  I whispered softly under her fingers, “A vampire?”

  “As I see it, if you want to live you do not really have a choice.”

  I looked toward Francois sadly.

  “He is going to lose you either way, so I would not be concerned about him if I was you. If you choose to live, you can always keep an eye on him, because he knows about vampires, he knew William well.”

  I saw her take a knife from the fold of her dress and then she pressed it against the soft, pale skin of her wrist. I saw the way the knife dented into her flesh and then I saw the red drop of blood.

  Just that one tiny drop made my nose tingle and my mouth salivate. She smiled down at me as if she knew what I suddenly felt.

  She cut a tiny slid in her wrist and then she held her arm out toward me, her wrist only inches away from my lips and although she said I had a choice, the feeling was too strong for me. Nothing could have broken the urge, the overwhelming feeling and from that day, blood was my weakness.

  I grabbed onto her arm with both my hands encircling her arm and her hand. I pulled her arm into my mouth and greedily I drank from her. As I felt the first drop of blood over my tongue, I felt like a different person. I could not stop and it was as if my mind was on a leave of absence. I only realized what I was doing when she pressed her palm gently against my forehead and pushed my head away from her arm. I let her arm go reluctantly and when the suction of my lips separated from her wrist, it made a popping sound.

  I felt better. The weakness had left me. I sat up, while looking at Francois sadly. I felt a tear, my last tear, run down my cheek. This would devastate him, I knew.

  I swung my legs off the bed and quietly I left the room and my life because I knew that I was different and I would no longer be able to continue my life in the château. I could no longer continue a normal life.

  The moon outside was a bright crescent, there was not a cloud in the sky. Once we were a distance away from the château, walking into and then between the trees of the forest surrounding the sculptured gardens, they started talking again. They introduced themselves to me as Shayne and Amanda.

  I asked them, “How did you know about me?”

  Amanda replied, with a smile playing across her lips, “Shayne here is friends with Ethan. Ethan used to be a pirate a long time ago and sailed with William.”

  Shayne agreed pleasantly, “Ethan told me that although they never knew your mother was a stow-away on the rigger, stories have a way of surfacing. Your father, William, is a legend within the vampire community.”

  I asked uncertainly, “But how did you know I was sick? How did you know to come tonight?”

  Amanda laughed softly. “We have been keeping an eye on you. I knew that you would develop the fever, because your mother was human and William was a vampire. Boys develop the fever at eighteen though and we could not be sure if it would be the same for you. I have heard rumors that girls sometimes get the fever when they are younger and so we stayed close to the château just in case.”

  Shayne added, “We heard the servants talking amongst themselves that you were gravely ill and Amanda knew the cause of your illness.”

  At that very moment, I was not so sure if I was just as happy that they were nearby, but I was glad that I did not die.

  Those years we lived only by night.

  My father, William, was a pirate, so that would explain my buccaneer spirit. I did not mind moving around. I did not mind always living in a different place. I took to hunting for the blood that su
stained me eagerly and without any prejudice. I never felt guilty taking what I needed.

  Chapter Three

  I walk into the school grounds moments before the bell goes. The school sprawls across an immense piece of ground. It starts up on the hill in the pre-school grades and then every year you work yourself down the hill toward the high school. I walk past the garden in front of the administrative offices and the wild, white roses are all in bloom. The branches of the large trees reach out over me like a huge umbrella.

  This morning I tied my long red hair high up behind my head, so it swings every time I move my head. My navy check-patterned school skirt comes mid-thigh, just long enough to escape gossip, but short enough to expose my pale legs.

  Decades ago being this pale drew curious looks, but in recent times people are concerned about the damages the sun may cause to their skin, so being white and insipid is in fashion. All the students around me still have sun-kissed skin though. You cannot live under the African sun and not tan. My body however does not produce the necessary pigment, melanin that would cause my skin to turn a caramel brown. I cannot even apply fake tan, because my skin does not change with the pigmentation in the coloring cream. It is only recently that I wished my skin were not so pale. I look sickly compared to all the healthy-looking people surrounding me.

  The only reason I do not frizzle and sizzle when sunlight touches my skin is because during the past century, Joseph, a member of our internationally extended community developed a serum. A serum if taken in pill form every single day, builds immunity in us against the sun. Many vampires died during the process of developing this life-changing medicine.

  I smile as I remember the first morning Amanda allowed me to walk into the dawn. I felt the sun on my skin and it was refreshingly strange. It felt like little pinpricks, as if I could feel the beads of light penetrating my skin.

  I do not know where the notion comes from that we, vampires, are murderous or cruel, because I can walk past all these delicious people without even thinking about feeding. When I feed and if it is a decent feed, a whole serving, I can go for an entire month before having to feed again.

  Being a student in high school is not good for my self-confidence, because so many different insecurities always inhibit me. I am usually self-assured and confident, but when I walk onto a school ground, I inescapably become unsure of myself.

  I walk past the area where Andrew and his friends always gather. The main reason for all my insecurities is Andrew. I noticed him the very first day I started here at this private school. The fact that he does not give me a second look, makes me feel ugly, makes me think there must be something wrong with me. I can feel my heart, or whatever that feeling is that constitutes a heart, pull toward Andrew painfully whenever I see him.

  Classes are boring, because I have done it all before. I never pay attention, yet when a teacher calls on me, I know the answers because if I have not experienced it personally I have heard it all previously. I doodle in my notebook all day long. It is a repetitive cycle, bell rings - class - break. Seeing Andrew breaks the monotony though.

  Later that day, when the last bell echoes through the corridors and I walk toward my car, I hear someone call my name, “Susie.”

  I turn toward the voice and see it is the perky, bouncy Carmine. I stop and wait for her, wondering what she wants.

  She reaches me and then she says breathlessly, “There is a party at Andrew’s house on Friday. Do you wanna come?”

  I frown briefly, and then smile friendly. “Okay?” I might as well start integrating, or networking, as Amanda likes to call it.

  “You know where he lives, don’t you?” Her curly blonde hair distracts me; she looks like a blonde Annie. Her eyes are huge and blue, and she has freckles across her tanned nose.

  “No, I don’t know exactly where.” I do know that he lives somewhere in the same security estate as me, because I have seen him drive in through the security gates and I have seen him race past on his red motorbike. I think it is a Firebird, but I could not be sure. By now, I knew the sound of the thunderous engine and I often saw it parked in front of Carmine’s house.

  “I’ll make sure you get a formal invitation then.”

  “Okay. Thanks for inviting me.” I did not really have anything else to say to her, so I turn to walk away, but she falls in step next to me. She walks with me toward my car and I remember that usually her parents collect her from school. You cannot miss Carmine; she is always happy and bubbly. In a crowd, you would always notice her first.

  She asks suddenly, “Can I get a lift with you?”

  I turn back toward her and she starts to explain, “My mom is too busy today to collect me. You are going in my direction anyway, aren’t you?”

  Briefly, I consider that I might have been going to a mall before going home, but I agree friendly anyway.

  I get into the car and then I wait for her while she walks around to the passenger door and gets in. When I start my car, the stereo automatically loads the CD player. Carmine turns the volume louder and the base reverberates through the car. I usually feel old in the company of young people, although I myself am only sixteen as well. The youthfulness of Carmine rubs off on me though and by the time I stop in front of her house, I feel youthful again. I have a sense of childishness wrap itself around me.

  When she gets out of the car, she leans in and asks, “Do you wanna come in?”

  Impulsively I reply, “Ya, sure. I’ll go and leave my car at home though and walk back.”

  She sits down again. “I’ll come with you.”

  Laughing amused, and after she closes her door, I drive down the hill toward my house on the other side of the block.

  I stop the car in the driveway in front of the garage and then we both get out of the car.

  Politely I ask, “Do you want to come in? I have to change first.”

  “Sure,” she agrees and follows me up to my room. When we walk into my room, she looks impressed, but for some peculiar reason I feel embarrassed at the blatant display of wealth.

  I walk toward my closet, while Carmine immediately swoops down onto my music collection. I select an outfit and then excusing myself, I walk to my en-suite bathroom to change my clothes.

  When I get back wearing a floral dress that hugs my body tightly and then flares out over my hips, Carmine is paging through my closet. She notices me walking in, smiling over her shoulder and then she exclaims, “That’s a pretty dress you’re wearing.”

  I smile and say, “Thank you,” while looking down at the soft material.

  She turns back toward the cupboard, and she asks, “Would you mind if I tried this on?”

  I try to see what dress she is talking about, but she is blocking my view, so I say, “No, I wouldn’t mind.” I honestly did not mind what she wore from my cupboard, because just like Amanda, most of the clothes in my cupboard I have never worn. Boredom drives us to the shops, and then we buy things we think are pretty, but never get the chance to wear.

  She pulls the dress from the hanger and I notice it is a simple mauve slip dress. She starts to dress in front of me and I look away uncomfortably. After she slips it over her head, she smoothes the dress over her hips with her hands and the dress fits her perfectly. She decides to keep it on. The dress looks nice on her and it almost matches the purple, blue color of her eyes.

  She turns toward me, her golden blonde hair bouncing around her face. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “No. I don’t think I have ever worn that dress anyway.” It had a little shine to it and I did not like the formal look of the dress. I liked to be comfortable.

  She suggests, “I look so pretty and it would be a waste if nobody saw me in it. Let’s go to the mall.”

  I am not usually this impulsive, but I need to make friends. Even though the dramas of people bore me, I like to be surrounded by their excitement and enthusiasm, because it sometimes rubs off onto me and I find a glimmer of exhilaration myself - living thro
ugh them.

  We walk out toward my car again and then we drive the short distance out of the estate toward the mall. The music is loud and Carmine sings along at the top of her voice. Some of the words, especially the hip-hop songs, she does not know, but she makes them up as she goes along and I cannot help smiling amused.

  At the mall, she leads me toward a café. The café is in the middle of this lifestyle mall. The restaurants and cafés surround the centre square, with a fountain in the middle. Trees line the perimeter of the square, so it does not feel as if you are in the middle of a bustling mall. Someone wrapped Christmas lights around the trunks of the trees, so at night they light up and make it fairy magical.

  When I walk into the café, the first thing I notice is Andrew.

  Carmine looks across her shoulder at me, as she says, “Andrew is always here. He might as well have shares in the franchise.”

  I smile nervously.

  He is sitting with his back turned toward us. I am hoping to avoid them, but Carmine takes me by the hand and then she leads me toward that specific table. We reach the table and Carmine blurts, “Hey.”

  I am standing close to her and I see Andrew notice me, but then just as quickly he looks toward Carmine and a smile lights up his face. My stomach drops. I feel a weird sense of loss, a feeling I last experienced leaving Francois behind. A feeling I have forgotten.

  Carmine slides into the booth across from Andrew and I slide in after her. I am sitting in front of Andrew and for me time stops. His hands are resting on the table mere centimeters from mine. It feels weird, all these feelings rushing through me. I have never felt like this before, this total awareness of my entire body of another person that I did not want to feed on.

  I hear Andrew talk to me from a distance and clearing my mind, I hear him say, “You are Susie?”

  I smile. “And you are Andrew?”

  He nods and smiles. “I have seen you in class. You are new?”

  I am a fool or crazy, or both, because I move my hand away from his. Although his hand does not touch mine, I still feel a weird magnetism between us. To get away from the feeling that seems to take over all of me, I bump against the glass of orange juice standing near the edge of the table accidentally. We both go for it and obviously, I am faster. With lightening speed my hand folds around the glass and without the contents even being disturbed, I place it back on the table.