Blood Double (22 page)

"Hordace and some of his associates like little girls," I lowered my head so Norian Keef wouldn't see my shame and horror over Kalia's life. "I was sold to him when I was nine."

"Truth," Jayd muttered angrily.

* * *

"Just leave. Leave." I wasn't looking at Frank or the others crowding around my bed, waving a hand vaguely to get them to leave me alone. If they didn't know already, they would figure it out soon enough. Kalia's childhood ensured that I'd never get real love from anyone, if I could bring myself to love someone to begin with.

They were all horrified at my background. Tiny whore to criminals, that's what I'd been. What man could ever want that? My equilibrium was nearly gone, having evaporated away inside an interrogation room at the hands of Norian Keef, Director of the ASD. All that was left now was the small voice, telling me to end it for both of us, this time.

* * *

"What in the name of the stars are we supposed to do, now?" Norian paced and growled while Lendill sat and watched. "She's a victim, that's easy enough to see, but what if she has other information?"

"Keef, she didn't know where Cayetes' hideouts are—he was smart enough to keep that information from everyone," Lendill pointed out with a sigh. "Jayd confirmed it. She wasn't lying."

"We didn't ask her about the one or ones who sold her," Norian's head jerked up at the thought.

"I think Trace or Franklin will try to kill both of us if we show up at NorthStar again today," Lendill said.

"You're right. We'll give this a few days and then go back."

"Norian, you're a snake, not a bulldog," Lendill observed dryly.

* * *

Kay's Journal

I'd refused dinner and thankfully they hadn't pushed it. There was no forced march to the kitchen or dining room, no obligated seat at the table so they could all stare. I didn't want their revulsion or their sympathy. I wanted a normal life. That's all I'd ever really wanted—twice. Was there punishment waiting in the afterlife for suicide? Punishment on top of punishment? Is that what there was?

I resolved not to think of it as I drew out the bottle of pills with shaking hands. Each round tablet was coated with a separate, harmless covering of painkill. That's how they'd gotten past the security gates on both Campiaa and Avendor. They'd registered as the other drug instead of the dangerous, forbidden one. Cull had spent quite a bit to get them—he'd planned his own death if the authorities ever came knocking.

Hordace would have killed Cull anyway if he'd ever been arrested and taken in for questioning. Too bad Norian Keef hadn't asked me about my deceased husband and who he'd once been—that would have raised a few eyebrows for sure.

I watched myself in the bathroom mirror, raising the handful of pills to my lips. A glass of water washed them down. Now what? Lie down so they could find me later? Sit on the bed until I toppled over? I opted for that. Sleep eventually threatened, and I knew I wouldn't wake from it. I allowed it to come, my eyes closing in weariness.

Suddenly, the room was boiling with people. I was hauled into the bathroom, Franklin's hands were on my belly and I was forced to vomit. The experience was painful and humiliating. When I was allowed to raise my head eventually, I found myself staring into the deepest blue eyes and stars fell through their depths.

Chapter 11
 

"I don't know what's wrong with her, now." Franklin shook his head as Ashe stared at him. "I mean, she was talking coherently when she came to us, and even after that asshole Keef grilled her. Then she attempts suicide, we prevent it and we're left with this." Frank's fingers ruffled through black hair in frustration. Had he known it, he looked very much like Merrill at that moment.

"She's retreated into herself, that's easy enough to see," Bill Jennings, former Director of the Joint NSA and Homeland Security Department on old Earth, muttered. "Nothing we've tried can coax her out of it."

"I've already called Kevis, but he can't get here earlier than tomorrow," Trace sighed. If he'd known that Kay was the one Ashe waited for, he could have sent mindspeech. Kay would have been transported to SouthStar immediately and Norian Keef and Lendill Schaff couldn't have touched her.

It was painful to watch Kay now—all she'd done since Ashe picked her up was rock on her bed while shaking and weeping. Even Ashe couldn't do anything for her, and that troubled Trace a great deal.

"Rabis said she'd need help, but this—this is impossible," Ashe muttered. "Trajan isn't speaking to me, either—I made him take his girl away. I yelled, Trace. That's just not me. Trajan's pissed and I have no idea what it did to the girl he brought here. Rabis said Kalia was close and that she was damaged and frightened of other women. I didn't want another woman at SouthStar, mucking this up. I managed to muck it up instead."

"You made him take Breanne away? Boss, that's not good. She's bad enough off as it is."

"Trace, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I don't know all of it. All I can say is this is the worst thing you could have added to this awful day."

"At least Keef is too afraid to ask to come here," Ashe growled.

"At least he knows you can turn him to sparks if he tries," Trace growled louder.

* * *

Breanne's Journal

No work got done that day. I was in such deep depression after Trajan dumped me in the arboretum that I curled up next to the trunk of an exotic tree and hugged myself. Could my life get any worse? Probably. I wasn't likely to feel any worse, though. Trajan called him Ashe. His words kept running through my mind, and each time they only served to frighten me more. What had I done? I had no idea. At least I knew what mattered to Trajan, though. The one he called boss. His job was more important.

Reasoning with myself didn't work. I knew I'd only met Trajan, so of course his job ought to matter more than a woman he'd just met. Somehow, I was hoping for more. That wasn't going to happen, and I had to deal with that. I knew, too, that I ought to be out looking for Erithia Cordan. There was no way to tell what evil she might create, and only I knew she still lived.

* * *

"You said you'd contact me. I have been expecting a visit. I am late taking an answer to your father." Pheligar frowned at Kalenegar.

"I am aware," Kal huffed. "I wished to make my father wait."

"What you have done is make me appear inept," Pheligar snapped.

"Then you have my apologies."

"I do not accept them."

"What do you want, then?"

"Is she, or isn't she? The truth, Kalenegar."

"Very well. All indications say she is, although she may be the worst possible choice for Vhanaraszh."

"Not least because she attempted to drown you in seawater, just as you did her." Pheligar didn't smile, although his eyes gleamed suspiciously.

"I had no idea she might learn so much so quickly," Kal muttered.

"The Vhanaraszh may be a continuous source of wonder to you, then," Pheligar pointed out. "The prophecies say she will be forced to come to terms with what she is."

"What about the Changer, Liaison? They are said to work in tandem, at times. That means that both must exist concurrently."

"Then perhaps you should stop wandering aimlessly and search for that one as well."

"I do not wander aimlessly," Kalenegar sputtered. "I am much older than you, Liaison."

"Then act like it," Pheligar said before disappearing.

* * *

"Get up, Hawer. Now."

Skel stared at the vampire who'd come to wake him. Where was his salvation? Surely, Erithia wouldn't leave him there to be taken to Evensun. Even the dimmest-witted criminal knew what lay on Evensun—hunger, fear, and (more than likely) death. Only the strongest could survive on that planet.

"Waiting for someone, Hawer?" Drake and Drew stepped from behind the vampire, who snapped restraining cuffs on Skel's wrists.

Skel worked to keep his breaths even and his thoughts positive. The ride to the space station remained, after all.

"We're not going to the space station," Drew said. Skel shrieked as he was jerked away from Le-Ath Veronis and dumped in the midst of a field of tall grass.

"You figured somebody would come save you," Drake pointed out as he removed Skel's cuffs. "We couldn't get to that information and we haven't discovered why that is, but we're not keeping you from your appointment because of it."

"What appointment?" Skel turned in a circle as he backed away from the Falchani twins. The vampire jailer hadn't been transported with him, and he wondered at that.

"An appointment with Plovel, here," Drew snickered.

"What?" Skel breathed as another man appeared before him.

"Plovel. That's me. Used to be an investigator on Bardelus," Plovel breathed softly. "Now, I'm something else."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Skel demanded.

"This." Plovel turned from humanoid to Black Ra'Ak in a blink, his ebon scales gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight on Evensun. "Come," he hissed around a multitude of teeth.

* * *

"Get Hawer transported?" Gavin asked as Drake and Drew took their places at the table in the royal dining hall.

"Oh, yeah," Drew nodded, accepting a drink from a waiting comesuli.

"He won't last long," Gavin muttered.

"Oh, he's gone already," Drake replied, accepting a drink identical to his brother's.

* * *

Fasil Bow waited. Ildevar Wyyld was hosting the King of Serendaan, who'd brought three of his wives, his Grand Minister and several servants bearing gifts for Ildevar's palace. Fasil had worked his way into the contingent of servants by eliminating the original servant and carrying a rug on his shoulder to hide his face afterward. His goal was to come within laser pistol range of Deonus Wyyld.

After that, the Reth Alliance would be leaderless—Fasil had no doubt that the Grand Alliance would turn on each other in an attempt to take Ildevar's place. Should one prove victorious, plans were likely already laid to take care of that one as well. The line of servants moved ahead of him. Fasil shifted the rug on his shoulder and stepped forward.

* * *

Breanne's Journal

I stood on a street corner in Casino City, rubbing my forehead. There was no sign of Erithia, I had a headache and still the images from earlier in the day insisted on playing out in my mind. What was really troubling, though? I couldn't get Ildevar Wyyld out of my head, either. Trajan's boss yelling was immediately followed by Ildevar Wyyld's image, like a horrid loop playing through my brain. Then, the yelling stopped, replaced by a continuous loop of Ildevar Wyyld's image, with a fear-filled, terrifying scream. What else was I supposed to do? I folded space.

* * *

"Glorious One, I bring gifts to honor you and your support of our world," the King of Serendaan offered respect to Ildevar Wyyld, who'd welcomed the King into the grand hall.

Ildevar, dressed in robes of cream and gold, nodded to the King of Serendaan and his three wives before stepping aside to allow six servants to come forward, each carrying a gift made exclusively on Serendaan. Wine, fruit, cheeses, two elaborately carved boxes and best of all, a Serendaan carpet, were brought forward.

Ildevar waited patiently, but the carpet was the thing he looked forward to eagerly. Only the best was ever made for the King, and it would be lovely beyond price, there was no doubt. Except—what was this? The servant bearing the carpet dropped his burden and pulled out—Ildevar slammed a shield in place as the servant fired a hidden weapon.

* * *

Breanne's Journal

All five of the Serendaan King's servants died attempting to protect Ildevar Wyyld, whose shield still held, thankfully. The crazed man who'd killed the others kept firing his weapon anyway, while the King and his wives cowered against a nearby wall.

The scene was chaotic—the attacker appeared to have a single purpose, only turning aside when three of Ildevar's guards raced in. Two of those fell before one managed to superficially wound the assassin, who then turned his weapon on the guard who'd hit him. The guard died quickly.

More guards rushed in from a nearby hallway, but were reluctant to fire. I realized something quickly—they weren't shooting because the King and his wives were around the corner and in the line of fire. It was why the first three had gone down so easily—they'd done their best not to hit the royal contingent from Serendaan.

Did I know I might do it? The Larentii could. My arm glowed as I held it out. The assassin hadn't seen me—I'd landed behind him. I might have splattered a bit of him at first before perfecting the art of releasing particles, but after his head exploded, the rest of him turned to sparks and floated peacefully away.

* * *

"I tell you I only saw a shining woman. That's all I saw," Ildevar snapped at Norian. "Willem believes this attempt was tied to Skel Hawer. He says he only saw it after the assassin's death."

"Then who was it? Who tried to kill you?" Norian wasn't happy and his hair was disheveled from raking it too many times with his fingers. Ildevar, who'd depended on Norian to keep him guarded, had been attacked because Norian had been sidetracked to Campiaa instead of finding a replacement for Skel Hawer.