It was not a lie.I’d secured the General’s consent back at the convent, before he’d left us in Mercer’s charge.It was a small concession on his part, but the most I could get given my limited leverage over the situation.
A muscle twitched in Mercer’s jaw—the only sign that my invocation of Gantry’s authority had found its mark.“One hour,” he conceded.“No more.”
When the time came, I was surprised to find nearly all my flock gathering in the forward hold.I had transformed the cold space with what few resources we had—a makeshift altar draped with a clean white cloth, candles secured in brackets to prevent them toppling with the ship’s motion, and the Bishop’s sacramental items arranged with reverent care.
The gold-lined chalice caught the candlelight as I filled it with the consecrated wine the Bishop had provided.
“This is my blood, shed for you,” I recited, lifting the chalice.“Consecrated and offered by the Bishop’s hand, he’s given me the charge to distribute it on His behalf.You may drink.”
One by one, they approached.Ruth with uncharacteristic solemnity, Rebecca with practiced reverence, Thomas with a youthful uncertainty he still had, despite being more than twice the age as a vampire as appeared to be.Then came the ferals—Catherine’s fingers trembled as they touched the chalice, her throat convulsing as she swallowed, eyes watering.James followed, a muscle in his jaw twitching violently, sweat beading his forehead though he refused to make a sound.Michael’s entire frame shuddered, his lips pulling back involuntarily from his teeth as the consecrated wine passed his lips.I watched them endure what, in the convent, I would have spared them for months.Even prayers were too much for them, but we lacked the time to prepare them in the usual manner.It was an affliction imposed out of love—out of necessity.
I didn’t notice Dr.Gallow until the service concluded.He stood in the doorway, clipboard in hand, observing with that same clinical detachment that made my skin crawl.As the flock dispersed, he approached me.
“Fascinating ritual,” he commented, jotting something in his notes.“Curious how simply believing that common wine isbloodcan tame the subject’s hunger.”
“They are people, not subjects, Doctor,” I reminded him.“And our faith in the Eucharist is not sentiment.It is real.”
His pen paused mid-stroke.“Semantics, Miss Bladewell.Your spiritual approach has measurable physiological effects, which interests me professionally.”He glanced toward Desiderius, who was speaking quietly with Brother Vincent and James across the room.“At least your counterpart is focused on practical concerns.”
Throughout the day, Gallow’s shadow fell across our training sessions like a winter draft.He lingered at the edges, his pen scratching against his clipboard whenever Desiderius demonstrated a technique.I caught his eyes narrowing when the ancient vampire showed how to disable without killing, his glasses catching the light as he leaned forward.Something in that eagerness made my skin prickle.
That evening, I followed that unease down the corridor toward the officer’s mess, drawn by the sound of hushed voices.I paused outside the partially open door, catching Mercer’s authoritative tone rising above Desiderius’ measured responses and Gallow’s intermittent interjections.Through the gap, I glimpsed them standing around a table scattered with nautical charts, Mercer’s finger stabbing at a point on the map.
Mercer’s fist slammed onto the map.“The U-boat’s changed course—it’s heading straight for our convoy.Thirty minutes, maybe less.”His voice dropped.“They’ve already sunk the Pembroke.”
“My flock isn’t ready for—“ Desiderius began, but Mercer’s face hardened.
“Ready or not, it’s coming,” Gallow interjected, removing his spectacles to wipe condensation.“Either your vampires engage, or we all end up as fish food.”
I cleared my throat from the doorway.Gallow swept several charts into a folder, producing instead a diagram of submarine hatches when I approached.With a motion too quick for him to avoid, I snatched the diagram from Gallow’s hands.
“This isn’t what you showed Desiderius,” I shouted as I looked over the information.“You’re deliberately keeping us in the dark.”
Mercer’s head snapped up.“We don’t have time for this, Alice.”
“Make time,” I demanded, stepping between them.“What aren’t you telling me?”
“We’re outgunned,” Mercer cut in.“Our conventional weapons can’t touch them at range.The only advantage we have is—.”He shook his head, gathering his words.“Your flock isn’t ready, but they’re all we’ve got.”
“So you’ll throw them into combat unprepared?”I challenged.
Gallow adjusted his glasses, the lenses catching light that hid his eyes.“The alternative is the bottom of the Atlantic.”
Chapter 16
Thealarmbellsshatteredthe predawn quiet like breaking glass, their shrill clanging reverberating through the ship’s metal corridors.Around me, my flock awakened with supernatural speed, their bodies tensing for action before their minds fully processed the situation.The ship’s intercom crackled to life: “All special units to the main deck immediately.This is not a drill.”Desiderius stood at the door to our quarters, his frame casting no shadow despite the harsh corridor lights behind him.I caught his eye; the slight tightening at the corners of his mouth was all the emotion his ancient face betrayed.Neither of us had anticipated the test of our preparations would come so soon.
We moved through the ship with preternatural quiet, our footsteps making no sound against the metal decking despite our haste.Regular crewmen flattened themselves against bulkheads as we passed, their eyes averted, heartbeats accelerating.They knew what we were, or suspected enough to fear us.I felt a familiar pang at their reaction—the gulf between our kinds had never seemed wider.
The main deck lay shrouded in darkness, the ship running without lights to avoid detection.Moonlight spilled across the churning Atlantic, transforming the waves into endless shifting patterns of silver and shadow.The air carried the sharp bite of salt and the faint metallic tang of approaching rain.I inhaled deeply, tasting the atmosphere, sensing the subtle shifts that told me dawn was still several hours away.I prayed it would be time enough for the mission that awaited us.
Captain Mercer stood at the railing, his silhouette crisp against the night sky.He turned as we assembled, his face betraying nothing but cool assessment as he counted heads.Dr.Gallow hovered nearby, clipboard still in hand despite the crisis, his glasses reflecting twin crescents of moonlight.
“German U-boat detected on our starboard side,” Mercer announced without preamble, his voice pitched low enough that only our enhanced hearing could catch his words over the wind and waves.“Three nautical miles and closing.Intel suggests it’s the U-19, one of their newer Wolf Pack vessels.”
He unfolded a diagram on a small table bolted to the deck, weighing its corners with brass instruments.“The submarine will surface briefly to confirm our identity before attacking.That gives us a narrow window to strike first.”His finger traced a path across the diagram.“I’ll lead Alpha team—Vincent, Ruth, Catherine, and James—in a direct assault through the conning tower once it surfaces.”
He looked up, his gaze sweeping across our faces.“Our mission is simple: neutralize the German crew, secure any intelligence materials, and disable the vessel for later retrieval by Allied ships.”
