Blood Double (19 page)

"You did this," Yinza hissed, standing next to me as I ate a bowl of seafood stew, shocking me and causing me to drop my spoon as I stared up at her.

"Huh?" Was all I managed to say before she was on me. With her weight, height and reach, she soon had my face beaten into a pulp before Trace came and pulled her away. The others, all fans of Yinza's gossip, had stood by silently while I'd been beaten senseless.

* * *

"We should have fired her when we let the others go," Trace sat beside my bedside later. I was in pain, staring at the tall man with only one eye and that one was nearly swelled shut, just as the other was. I still didn't know what happened and in my agony, I couldn't reason it out.

"I have healers coming," he added. "They were out when this happened, so I apologize for the delay. Don't worry, they'll get you fixed right up—there won't be permanent damage."

My lips wouldn't move, so there was no way I could snort at his statement. I had no care about permanent damage; right then I wanted relief from the pain, like so many times before. Shutting my only working eye instead, I let unconsciousness claim me again.

* * *

"Frank, I'm telling you she looks enough like you to be your sister." Trace's voice sounded, speaking a language that wasn't used in either Alliance. What was he doing? I recognized his words easily, but he wouldn't know that. Alliance common was used most often by both Alliances; there were a few other languages spoken, but not this one. The name Frank I hadn't heard in a long time, either. Would I tip my hand? Not for a million Alliance credits.

"Maybe we should get Mom and Dad in here when they get back. Let them have a look." Apparently, that was Frank speaking, again in the same language. He had a nice voice—a strong baritone. Might be able to sing, if he had the inclination. All this took place while I had my eyes closed, so I hadn't seen Frank—the one who looked enough like me to be my brother.

"We've decided to move her up to the house—none of those girls thought to step in; they let that lying, stealing bitch beat on her instead."

"You left that lying, stealing bitch in her job," Frank pointed out softly.

"Yeah. This is my fault." Trace sounded depressed.

"Trace, honey, I didn't mean it like that." I heard the unmistakable sound of kissing. Well, Frank and Trace were together.

"Hey, where's mine?" Another voice, still speaking the same language, joined us in the room. At that moment, I wondered where I was. Still refusing to open my eyes, I listened in while I realized my old, much harder mattress from the barracks was definitely not beneath my body.

"Shane, why do you even have to ask?" Trace chuckled and more kissing noises came. Multiple mates were allowed and sometimes encouraged by both Alliances. Having multiple mates meant additional income for a household, more hands to raise children and a better standard of living for all involved. It also reduced the number of infidelities—according to studies I'd read, anyway.

"You little possum," Shane, the newcomer, accused softly, sitting down on the side of my bed. The term possum also didn't exist in either Alliance. Blinking my eyes open, I caught sight of Shane first; he was smiling mischievously at me. Light-brown hair, nice brown eyes and a comforting smile greeted me first thing. He looked young, but my senses told me he wasn't.

"Who are you?" I croaked in Alliance common. I didn't want him to know I'd understood his words earlier.

"I'm Shane. You know Trace already and this is Frank—Franklin, actually." I got my first glimpse through swollen eyes at the man who did resemble me enough to be my brother. The blackest hair, fair, pale-honey skin and bright, sky-blue eyes—wrapped in an extremely handsome package. Franklin smiled at me, just as Shane had.

"We're healers," Shane announced conversationally as he settled more comfortably on my bed.

"Where am I?" I asked my second question. My voice sounded a little better this time.

"You're in the main house," Shane grinned. "In a guest bedroom. Frank's mom will probably offer you a job here at the house when she gets back. Harvest is almost over and we need an extra staffer here, anyway."

Terror suddenly gripped me—he'd said they were healers. Had they? I lifted the covers before breathing a relieved sigh. I was still dressed in my own clothing. Hardly any time had passed. These healers must be very good—I could see out of both eyes and nothing felt broken, now. How had they accomplished that? The only ones with that sort of talent were warlocks, and I wasn't about to ask about that. Warlocks were frightening. It was better not knowing.

"There's a bathroom right through there, and a change of clothes. We didn't get too friendly," Trace drawled. I recognized that drawl. It wasn't from anywhere in either Alliance.

* * *

"But how did she know Iversti? How did he manage to carve her up like this?" Lendill held up a photograph and squinted at it. "This is Iversti's work, no doubt about that. Please let me question her in a few days."

"I think we're pushing things as it is, since Kiarra, Adam and Merrill are gone," Trace mumbled. He'd been terrified of the markings on Kalia's torso when Franklin and Shane healed her bruises and fractures. There was no mistaking the marks—sun wheels—the symbol of the old Solar Red religion. Only one criminal carved sun wheels into his victim's skin, however. Iversti Foculis, who'd disappeared from the Reth and Campiaan Alliance's grid barely six turns before.

"If she can lead us to Foculis—either Iversti or Rezil, that may get us closer to Hordace Cayetes," Lendill dropped the photograph on his desk. Hordace Cayetes had graced the top of both Alliance's most wanted lists for many years. He was as insubstantial as smoke, however, and nobody seemed able to track him for long.

"Look, I'll only need a little time with her," Lendill wheedled.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea." Trace shook his head.

"You think she's been involved with criminals, don't you." Lendill lifted an eyebrow at Trace. "If I show this to Norian, you know what he'll do."

"That's why I brought it to you. If she's involved in criminal activity, I doubt it was voluntary."

"Easy enough to determine." Lendill formed a ball of light in his palm distractedly. "Besides, if she can give us anything on Cayetes," Lendill shrugged. "Face it; Iversti never let any of his victims live. Not after he carved them up like that. It makes me wonder why this one's still around."

Chapter 10
 

Breanne's Journal

"The disposition of prisoners will be dealt with this morning," Gavin announced after striding purposely into the Queen's bedroom. "This afternoon, you will assist Teeg."

I stared at Gavin. Would I ever see an emotion cross his face that wasn't anger? Not likely. Not if it were aimed in my direction, anyway. Two weeks had passed since I'd sent my message to Kooper, and no answer nor any arrests had been made. Either he'd ignored the message or he hadn't received it for some reason. Refusing to read my sire and squaring my shoulders, I lifted Queen Lissa's coronet onto my head and adjusted it before following Gavin to the Council Chamber.

* * *

The first three prisoners were accused of petty crimes—theft, mostly. They were given sentences of prison time and in all cases, restitution and service would follow. Then the next trial was announced.

I had no idea that Skel Hawer had been brought to the dungeons of Le-Ath Veronis to face trial. Too many other things had taken up my time and nobody, especially Gavin, had thought to inform me of the fact. I'd deliberately refused to read him for the most part after learning how to block the visions, so this had come as a surprise.

Regardless, Skel Hawer was brought inside the Council Chamber, shackled, dressed in prison yellow and wearing an angry scowl. One of the Queen's Larentii mates—Reemagar—appeared in a corner of the chamber, but I discovered quickly that he was concealing his presence from most of those present. I and perhaps a handful of others could see him—most notably Drake and Drew, who stood near the chamber doors, a barely noticeable frown tugging at their mouths.

"Bring in the victim," Gavin announced. My head jerked in his direction so fast my vision blurred.
You will sit quietly and not interfere
, his voice snapped in my head.
You will abstain when the vote is taken
, he added.

I understood the Larentii's presence swiftly; Drake and Drew opened the wide, chamber doors and an exact copy of me, as I should appear, walked inside, escorted by a palace guard. Yes, I recognized him as one of the vampire guards who'd stood by while Skel Hawer beat me. Neither he nor the other guard had interfered or come to my defense. In my opinion, they were almost as guilty as Hawer.

My copy sat wordlessly on a designated chair. I could tell it was a three-dimensional image cast by Reemagar—only a Larentii might create such an image and add scent to it, in order to fool a multitude of vampires. I wanted to shake my head at the complexity of it, but that was unbecoming of the Queen. I pulled my gaze away, desiring more than anything to punch Skel Hawer, Gavin Montegue and anyone else involved right in the face.

"That is a female vampire. Why were we not informed?" A vampire stood and growled from the midst of Council members.

"She is recovering and has been sequestered," Gavin growled right back. Was he going to own up to my turning? That question was answered almost immediately.

"This is Heinrich's turn, and you know how reclusive he is. He refused to be here today, even to offer support for his child." Rigo spoke for the first time. Well, Rigo was lying. I could also tell from a quick read that he found it distasteful.

"I shall certainly place my bid for this one," the huffy vampire sat down again. Blinking at him in astonishment, images raged unbidden through my mind. Any female vampire not claimed by her turning sire was open to be courted by any available vampire. Her sire and the Council were allowed to pick and choose appropriate suitors, although she wouldn't be forced into a relationship she didn't ultimately want. I wanted to gag.

"We are here to pass judgment, not to bid on an available female," Gavin's voice turned surly.

"Very well, tell us how this one," the vampire indicated Skel Hawer, "is involved with this female."

"Allow me to show the images." Gavin clicked a tiny remote and a huge vid-screen dropped from the ceiling. Another click made images appear. Had these images been available all along, and only now coming to light? I noticed immediately that Norian Keef was absent from these proceedings.
The coward.
I was forced, in my seat on Queen Lissa's throne, to witness my own brutal beating at the hands of Skel Hawer.

The vid recordings included sound, too, and in my lucid moments during the beating, I'd shrieked in pain. Each blow that landed made me flinch, and as I was dressed and looked like another, I wasn't allowed to utter a sound at the horror I witnessed. At that moment, I couldn't decide which was worse—the beating or being forced to watch it in its entirety now.

After the images were shown and I shook in silent shock and rage, Rigo, ancient vampire that he was, read from comp-vid records that Skel had flown into a fury after Erithia Cordan's murder and latched onto the first suspect without following proper investigative procedures.

Yes, I'd been displayed in the images, aging, graying, in poor health and disfigured by an unfortunate past, sitting on a bunk in the Queen's dungeon before Skel arrived. He'd then beaten me nearly to death. Too bad the vid didn't include Gavin's appearance three days later and my subsequent, unwilling passage into vampirism. I wanted everyone to hear that I'd said no. No vampire was supposed to turn anyone without their consent. I had certainly not given mine.

It wasn't comfortable sitting through Skel Hawer's trial after witnessing my near-death. I couldn't stop trembling. Would Reemagar hear my plea if I sent mindspeech? I sent it anyway while Skel, under compulsion, described his crime in detail. I wanted to weep as I formed mental words.

Reemagar, please don't let them see me shake
, I pleaded.

I will deal with this
. Pheligar, also shielded from the vampires, appeared at Reemagar's side.
Breanne, weep if you must. The ones inside this chamber will not know it
. I sobbed.

* * *

Skel was terrified he'd be asked about his doings following his beating of the aging bitch, Breanne Hayworth, but they hadn't asked those questions. Fasil Bow and the assassination plots would continue, with none the wiser. He hoped, too, that Erithia would use her considerable resources to free him from his dungeon cell before he was transported to Evensun in a week.

* * *

Breanne's Journal

"I hear Skel was sentenced to Evensun." Teeg's words were clipped as I walked beside him later. He ignored my red eyes and occasional sniffle, just as his father had after the Council meeting was concluded. That wasn't the worst my day might hold. Not by light-years.

Stellan folded to Teeg's side, handed a comp-vid to Teeg and refused to glance in my direction. I'd already read it in Teeg's face after briefly lowering my shield, but the reality of it was so much worse. Teeg had placed compulsion on Stellan and his brothers. He'd also placed it on Kooper and Sheriff Trevor. My shoulders drooped and I sniffled again. "Straighten up," Teeg snapped, compulsion strong in his voice. I wanted to hit him. Shout at him, too, before hitting him again. That desire had never done me any good.