Free Flight of the Phoenix by Melanie Thompson Page A

water.
    The sullen vampire’s name was Kimbo. His eyes glowed white in his black face and whenever they came out of the shadows and into the moonlight, they glowed with a red light. He appeared alarmingly well-fed. His cheeks were full and his face round. Only his eyes reflected his extreme hunger. He yearned for their blood. The presence of Tures and the two Egyptian vampires was the only thing that kept him from attacking them.
    The river was black and as smooth as glass. The boat waiting for them had two stacks and a stern wheel. Sam and Tomlinson, closely followed by Brighthouse, scrambled on board and immediately descended to the engine room to examine this new steam-powered engine. Bryn was exhausted.
    They were met by the captain, another black man, this one human. He stood scowling at them from under a broad hat. He wore a baggy pair of tan pants and no shirt. Tures spoke briefly to him, passing him a cloth bag that jingled with coins. “Your staterooms are on the upper deck,” she said. In an under-voice, she whispered to Bryn. “My crew will sleep below. This captain has carried us before and has a room protected from light. Please keep a watch over Captain Okoro. He is only so trustworthy.” She glanced up at Quinn including him in her request.
    Brynn nodded and watched her disappear below. The Joseph Conrad was a Belgian boat. As soon as they were aboard, crew members in tattered clothing drew in the ramp and the boat steamed into the river. Quinn took her arm and ushered her up rickety steps to their room. The sun was cresting the horizon to the east as the boat entered a huge lake. The damp air clung to Bryn’s body and brought back memories of Africa from her early days. She’d been gone a very long time.
    â€œThis is a wild land,” Quinn said as he flopped onto a bed with a copious amount of mosquito nets encasing it on all sides.
    Bryn batted at the netting irritably. “It seems everything here wants to drink our blood.”
    Quinn laughed. “How long will we be on this boat?”
    â€œI imagine at least a week. We are taking the river all the way to Stanleyville where we pick up bearers and head for the mountains.”
    Quinn smiled and grabbed her around the waist. “We are together, safe from Priest and on an adventure. Smile, my darling.”
    Bryn allowed him to embrace her. “Don’t be too sure we’re safe from Priest. He knows Africa and he knows where Kivunjo originated. Probably better than we do.”
    * * * *
    Priest gave up trying to track the undersea vessel holding Bryn and her sister. He knew where they were going. They sought Kivunjo. He flew in long lazy legs across the huge deserts of North Africa, hunting as a dragon, eating as a dragon eats. The voice in his head was relentless. Malenfant pressed him to find victims for his insatiable appetites and Priest, who had never been reluctant to kill before, suddenly grew saintly, refusing to even alight in a city. He delighted in remaining resolute in his refusal to find Malenfant victims for his perverse pleasure. Halfway across the desert, Malenfant went into hiding and stopped haranguing Priest’s every moment. Draak gloated, thinking he’d finally rid himself of his parasite.
    He flew across dense jungle for two days eating well. The jungle provided him with good hunting. When he landed in Stanley Falls Station, he morphed into a young priest and headed for the St. Bridget Mission. As he stepped out into the bright sunlight, the familiar, nagging whine of Cardinal Malenfant echoed in his head. “I see you finally stopped playing dragon. Now we can find us a nice, innocent woman. While you find one, I will think of some unique ways in which to defile her.”
    Hideous chuckling filled Priest’s head and he grabbed his hair. “Stop! If we kill one girl will you leave me alone?”
    A feeling of warm satisfaction filled his head and belly. Malenfant’s