Free Spirit

Free Spirit

(In this story Magdalena is Nick's older sister. This story was written long before the Revelations series came along. Just happened to find it while looking through some old writings.)

Tortuga 1777…

Magdalena de Sang was lounging in a dark corner of the rowdy tavern idly picking her fangs with a dagger when her first mate, Jeremiah Bonney, and his unknown guest approached.

"Evening, Captain." Jeremiah greeted.

"Evening, Jer. The men enjoying their shore leave?" Magdalena asked.

"Of course, Captain. This gent here would like a word with ya. Claims that yer family." Jeremiah replied.

"I'll be the judge of that. Bring him over." Magdalena answered.

Jeremiah motioned and the man stepped forward. He lowered his hood to reveal a smiling face with ice blue eyes and unruly golden hair.

Magdalena's stern demeanor dropped as she recognized the man standing before her.

"Nicholas!" she squealed with delight as they embraced and kissed.

"Bonsoir, Maggie, or should I say Captain Mags?" Nicholas asked.

"Maggie as always. So what brings you to my neck of the woods? Don't worry about Jeremiah, Nicholas. I could hardly function as a captain if I didn't have my first mate's trust. He knows what I am." Magdalena explained.

Jeremiah grinned, "She makes it worth my while in more ways than one."

"Don't kiss and tell, Jeremiah. Nicholas obviously has a favor he wants to ask of me." Magdalena asked with a smirk.

"I wanted to ask you as a brother to a sister. As…" Nicholas began.

"One free spirit to another?" Magdalena asked.

"Oui. I wanted to ask if you would allow me passage on your vessel." Nicholas confessed.

"Petit frère, in case you haven't noticed The Archangel is a pirate ship. We aren't exactly welcome at many respectable ports. The best I could do would be to get you close enough to shore that you could fly there before sunrise." Magdalena muttered.

Nicholas beamed, "Parfait. When do we set sail?" he asked.

"Hold on there, fella. The captain hasn't said anything." Jeremiah snapped.

"I can speak for myself, Jeremiah. Besides, Nicholas, what makes you think that I want to get involved in yours and LaCroix's eternal game of cat and mouse? Especially since this could spell trouble for me and my crew. Word is that LaCroix is now working with the Royal Navy. That's not good." Magdalena snapped.

"Please, Maggie, I have to get away for a while. You know how LaCroix is." Nicholas whined.

Magdalena wasn't moved.

"Well enough to know that you should count your blessings, petit frère. There are a lot of masters out there who make Lucien LaCroix seem like a sweet old grandmother." Magdalena growled fighting to keep her eyes from bleeding to gold.

LaCroix had kept Magdalena close for the first five years of her new life to ensure that she knew how to survive and after that when Magdalena had wanted to leave him LaCroix hadn't lifted a finger to stop her. As much as Magdalena treasured her independence she couldn't help but be disappointed that LaCroix didn't hold her in the same high regard that he apparently held his eldest son.

Magdalena reluctantly returned her attention to the vampire in question.

"Sure if your grandmother seeks to control every single aspect of your life and gives you everything save freedom and choice." Nicholas snarled.

"My gran was just like that and I turned out fine." Jeremiah grumbled.

"With Anne Bonney as your gran you couldn't have turned out any better, Jeremiah." Magdalena acknowledged as she patted his hand fondly.

"Maggie, LaCroix will not allow me to live as I wish while I search for a cure." Nick complained.

Magdalena rolled her eyes, "When will you get it through that thick skull of yours, Nicholas? THERE IS NO CURE. We are what we are." she stated coldly.

"Are you channeling LaCroix now, Maggie?" Nicholas demanded.

"It would do you good if I was, Nicholas." Magdalena insisted before she rose from the table intent on leaving her younger brother behind to sulk.

Toronto 1994…

Magdalena sipped a glass of blood wine as she recalled that night over two hundred years ago and wished the story had ended there. It hadn't.

Against her better judgment Magdalena had allowed Nicholas to board her vessel. Two days later The Archangel was ambushed by a small fleet of British warships under LaCroix's command. The ship was burned and Magdalena's crew were hanged their bodies left to twist in the sea breeze like morbid wind chimes while Magdalena, her new son Jeremiah, and Nicholas were spirited aboard LaCroix's flagship and taken to Cuba, where he owned a plantation.

Magdalena hadn't remained there for long. Just long enough to grow weary of her father's smug arrogance at having caught his son once again and her brother's withdrawal as he blamed himself for the deaths of Magdalena's crew.

Jeremiah, who had also grown restless, left with her and had stayed by Magdalena's side for the next twenty years as he learned how to adapt to his newfound abilities. The two had then parted company and save for their regular exchange of letters they hadn't met again since the end of the Second World War in Europe when they'd been assisting the Red Cross.

Magdalena sighed setting her empty glass in the sink as the memories of that rainy April night nearly half a century ago filled her mind.

'Another story for another time.' she silently resolved.