Real Vampires: Glory and the Pirates by Bartlett, Gerry (red white royal blue TXT) 📕

not about to strut about like her victor. “I certainly don’t feel like a hero but do tell Captain Burnett she is dead. That may change his plans for our defense.”

“She threw herself off because she knew you had won the fight!” Colin was almost hopping with excitement. “She’s dead. I’m sure of it. Fergus has to know. Everyone does. Could be the pirates will want revenge but I can’t imagine they will be quick about it after the losses we gave them.” He laughed. “You should have seen the lads fighting, mistress. I was that proud of the way they took down those rats.”

“You’ve turned into quite the leader, Colin. I’m sure the captain will let Lord Jeremiah know how you won the day yourself when Jeremiah returns.” I was so tired, I just wanted the boy, no, man, to go.

He finally offered me a deep bow. “You vanquished the queen of the pirates. By all that is holy, Mistress Gloriana, that’s a fine night’s work! We should break out the ale again, don’t you think?”

“Why not? Thank you, Colin. You’ve made me feel better about it.” I was glad to send him on his way. Mercy had managed to get the small tub filled and arrived to help me undress. I let myself be taken care of in the maid’s capable hands. Too bad my ease was overshadowed by my worry about Jeremiah.

As I finally lay in my bed, ready for the dawn, I remembered the potion the witch had left for me. Mercy had found it in my clothes and set it on a chest, mumbling and crossing herself when she handled it. It seemed to glow in the firelight, calling to me. The witch had claimed it would calm me. I was certainly in need of calming, the pain of my still healing wounds making me restless. Lying in bed without Jeremiah also bothered me. But could I trust the word of such a woman?

My heart thudded as I climbed out of bed. Surely Helen was too wily to risk hurting the mistress of the Guardian of the Coast. Unless she’d “seen” that Jeremiah wouldn’t return? I had no business even touching the bottle that seemed to hold its own light from within.

As if drawn beyond my control, I picked it up. The glass was smooth and cool to the touch. I pulled out the stopper and sniffed. It was a pleasant smell, reminding me of the whiskey that Michael used to enjoy when he had an extra coin. How could something like that hurt me?

I raised the bottle to my lips. Just a taste, not even a sip, should be fine. I knew a vampire was not supposed to eat or drink but I let a drop land on my tongue. It was delicious and even that tiny bit had warmth flushing my cheeks. Before I could stop myself, I drank it down.

Heat flowed through me, seeping down to my toes and even to my fingertips. I barely made it back to my bed before my legs grew too weak to support me. My heart slowed until I was afraid it would stop. Thump. Thump. Thump. Suddenly as frail as an old woman, I fell onto the bed. I was limp and so relaxed I felt sure I wouldn’t be able to raise my head even if Jeremiah came running into the room.

What had I done? Did I care? I smiled up at the ceiling, noticing for the first time men and women dancing across a sky of blue. I blinked. Now I saw a flight of birds, pretty birds in many colors. They disappeared into the clouds before angry men raised their swords and dashed across that same sky to fight an army that appeared from behind a storm cloud.

I tried to lift my hand to rub my eyes, but couldn’t manage it. Visions. The potion had not only relaxed me to the point of making me powerless, but had made me see things. For some reason I was not afraid. Instead, I watched the parade of pictures above me, looking for clues, messages that might help me in some way. Could I see where Jeremiah was getting ready for his own death sleep?

Or perhaps I could learn something about my past? I would do anything to find out where I came from. Just a hint about my home would mean the world to me. Who was I, really?

As soon as I asked that last question, a great building appeared. It was white, a palace unlike any I’d ever seen before. Inside, people knelt before a shimmering throne where a handsome man sat. He wore a crown formed by a circlet of golden leaves. I knew at once that he was a god. A god?

For a moment he seemed to look right at me, his eyes sad. Did he know me? Had I known him once? Light burst from behind the throne before a woman joined him. She was beautiful in her white robes and wore a smaller crown of those same golden leaves. Her hair streamed down her back and was the same color as mine but her locks shone with the radiance of the sun.

Goddess. I found that word in my head to describe her. She leaned over to kiss the man before she settled onto a throne of her own. They both looked out at the crowd of people kneeling before them and smiled. I wanted to reach out to them, to say something, but the vision faded before I could even lift a finger.

Who were these people, this god and goddess? I always said “gods” when I prayed or cursed. Was that because I’d come from a place like that? One that worshiped such beings instead of the strict god in the Church of England. The church the Scots had chosen to ignore when they celebrated Yuletide?

So many questions. My heart slowed as dawn crept closer. With a deep sigh