“And access to the chapel for regular services,” I added, pressing our advantage.“Not merely during designated rest periods, but as a standard part of their training regimen.”
A muscle twitched in Mercer’s jaw, but he inclined his head in agreement.“Within reason.Combat readiness remains the priority.”
“Faith is part of their readiness,” I countered.“As tonight demonstrated.”
He didn’t argue further, which I took as tacit acceptance.Small victories again, but they accumulated like drops of water gradually reshaping stone.
Hours later, after the flock had settled into their improved quarters, I found myself drawn to the ship’s deck.The night had deepened, clouds obscuring both moon and stars, leaving only a perfect, velvet darkness pressed against the Leviathan as we continued our journey toward Europe.I stood at the railing, the Bishop’s manual of prayers open in my hands.
I sensed Desiderius before I saw him.He joined me at the railing without speaking, his gaze fixed on the invisible horizon where water met sky in perfect blackness.
“They performed well tonight,” he said finally.“Better than I expected, considering their limited training.”
“Faith guided them as much as discipline,” I replied.“Even Thomas recovered his control when reminded of his purpose.”
“Purpose is a powerful anchor,” Desiderius agreed.He gestured toward the prayer book in my hands.“I wouldn’t mind borrowing a few of those prayers.If you don’t mind.”
I traced the embossed leather of the cover, finding the small cross worked into its corner.“Bishop Harkins understood the true nature of our mission.He included a passage about carrying light into darkness, rooted in the twenty-third Psalm, that I find particularly comforting now.”
“‘Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,’” Desiderius quoted softly.
“‘I will fear no evil,’” I completed.“For even in darkness, we are not forsaken.”
A third presence joined us, appearing from the shadows with preternatural silence.Captain Mercer’s silhouette took shape against the railing several feet away, his posture rigid as always, yet somehow less adversarial than before.
We stood in silence for several moments, three immortals bound together by circumstance rather than choice, each carrying decades—or even centuries—of different experiences.The ship’s engines thrummed beneath our feet, driving us ever closer to a war whose scale and savagery would dwarf even our considerable lifespans.
“The Germans have a concept,” Mercer said suddenly, his voice carrying easily despite the wind.“Dämmerung—the twilight, neither day nor night, but something in between.”He turned slightly, his profile sharp against the darkness.“Perhaps there’s room for both prayer and predator in this war.Neither fully blessed nor fully damned, but something in between.”
The observation surprised me, not merely for its insight but for the recognition it contained—an acknowledgment, however oblique, that our approaches might complement rather than oppose each other.
“The Bishop would say that all of the creation groans for redemption,” I replied carefully.“Even those parts that seem furthest from grace.”
Mercer’s laugh held little humor but no malice either.“A comforting thought for those who need comfort.”He straightened, adjusting his uniform with habitual precision.“But I’ve found purpose sufficient.As did your flock tonight.”
He departed as silently as he had arrived, leaving Desiderius and me alone with the darkness once more.He remained silent for several minutes before speaking again.
“He is not wrong,” Desiderius observed.“Purpose sustained me for centuries before I found faith.”
“But was it enough?”I asked.“Was purpose alone sufficient to keep the monster at bay?”
His silence was answer enough.I clutched the prayer book closer, finding strange reassurance in its solid weight.We were entering waters both literal and figurative that none of us had navigated before—vampire soldiers in a human war, spiritual creatures forced into pragmatic violence, the holy and unholy combined in service to temporal powers.
As the first faint trace of dawn threatened the eastern horizon, forcing us to retreat below decks, I wondered what Bishop Harkins would make of our uneasy alliance with Mercer.Would he see divine providence in this arrangement, as he had suggested during our last meeting?Or would he recognize the danger of compromise, the slippery slope from necessary violence to embracing the very darkness we sought to transcend?
The question would have to wait.For now, we sailed on through darkness—toward the heart of history’s greatest war.What we would find there, and what it would make of us, remained hidden in shadow.But that didn’t mean we were without light.
Chapter 19
Thered-filteredlampsofthe USS Leviathan’s command room cast everyone in shades of blood and shadow, a fitting tableau for creatures of our nature.Three days had passed since our encounter with the German U-boat, three days of fragile accord between Mercer and myself, built upon the success of a mission we’d approached from fundamentally different directions.I stood by the navigation table, studying our path toward the French coast, trying to ignore the weight of Dr.Gallow’s constant observation from his corner perch where he scribbled endlessly in his notebooks.
Our proximity to land had brought a nervous energy to my flock.Soon we would exchange the relative safety—emphasis on the worldrelative—of the ocean for the chaos of the European front.I had spent the morning in prayer with those most troubled by our submarine encounter, particularly Thomas, whose near-loss of control still haunted his youthful face.
The staccato clicking of the ship’s telegraph interrupted my thoughts.Dr.Gallow moved with unusual haste to receive the message, his spectacles catching red light as he bent over the machine.The rapid tapping continued for several minutes, his pen moving in concert with the sounds, transcribing what I realized must be a message from General Gantry.
Something in Gallow’s posture changed as he decoded the message—a stiffening of his shoulders, a quickening of his breathing that my heightened senses detected even across the room.He finished his transcription, adjusted his spectacles with one finger, and turned toward Captain Mercer, who had just entered the command room.
“Captain,” Gallow said, his voice carefully modulated to betray no emotion, though I caught the underlying tension.“A communication from General Gantry.The vessels sent to recover the U-boat crew were intercepted and sunk by German destroyers.”
