Vampirates 6: Immortal War by Justin Somper

brutality of Lola and her crew. Worse still was the thought of how close she herself had come to being one of their pack.
    “I’m bored with all this talk of me and my dreary journey,” Olivier said now, though he never seemed bored when talking about himself. “Much more interesting to talk about you and how you’ve changed beyond all recognition from that wide-eyed little girl I led across the mountain, foraging for berries.”
    “It wasn’t that long ago,” Grace said. “A few months at most.”
    “It was a world ago, Grace,” Olivier said. “And I speak as an immortal when I say that. Time passes rather differently for us.”
    “I know,” she said in an impassioned voice, once more irritated by his superior tone. She realized he was staring at her curiously now. “I know,” she said, rather more gently. “I’ve been around Nocturnals and Vampirates for some time myself.”
    “Indeed,” Olivier acknowledged. “You know, I was a little jealous of you when you first arrived here.”
    “Yes, I realized that,” she said.
    “In some ways, it’s your fault that I betrayed Mosh Zu. I was always his favorite before you arrived on the scene.”
    Grace was surprised by his candor but infuriated by his attempt to implicate her in his rebellion.
    “You said we were ‘in-betweens,’ ” she reminded him. “You always implied we had a particular bond.”
    He looked at her with obvious disdain. “Oh, I tried to bond with you, because those were my instructions. But, really, I had my own work to do and—to be honest—it was so tiresome having to stop and explain everything to you.”
    Grace bit back her anger. This was not at all how she remembered their time together.
    Olivier nodded. “Remember when I showed you how to make the elder salve for your ailing boyfriend?”
    She nodded.
    “And look at you now. I expect you could knock up a vat of the stuff in your sleep.” Before Grace could think of an appropriate response, Olivier continued. “I’m impressed, Grace. It’s clear that Mosh Zu’s faith in youwas more than justified, though I don’t say that easily. You do have the makings of a healer.”
    Grace had allowed most of his barbs to wash over her, but she had too much pride to let this one pass. “I
am
a healer,” she said, fixing him with her eyes. “
I
healed
you
. When the ambulances arrive here, all patients are classified according to the severity of their wounds. You were a Platinum case—the second-most-severe kind. That’s why they assigned
me
and
my
team to treat you. Otherwise, well…”
    Olivier nodded. “Yes, yes, I’ve heard the feverish whispers that you are Mosh Zu’s second-in-command these days. And I’m grateful to you, I truly am.”
    This paltry offering was clearly as close as he would come to thanking her. He had turned away from her. His hand stretched toward the muslin drapes around his bed. He pushed back one of them and peered out at the ward. Holding the curtain open, Olivier turned back to face Grace. “This is quite a setup you have here. Tell me, how many patients do you treat each night?”
    Grace shrugged. “It varies,” she said. “Last night was particularly busy—though we’ve had worse. Sometimes the bell just keeps going and we don’t get much rest between arrivals.”
    Olivier nodded and looked once more through the gap in the curtain before letting it drop. “Does Mosh Zu know that I’m here?” he asked.
    Grace paused. “Perhaps, though I haven’t seen himmyself since I healed you. As I said, it’s been a busy night and day and we’ve all had a lot to contend with.” She paused. “But, when I see him later, I’ll be sure to tell him.”
    Olivier shrugged. “As you wish. Just don’t get your hopes up for a bedside reunion.”
    Grace couldn’t help but smile. Olivier was so eaten up with bitterness, and more egocentric than ever. “We’re in the middle of a war, Olivier. I’m just here doing a job. You were brought to me on