Dark Stranger

by Susan Sizemore

  He gave a curt nod.

  Zoe’s blood curdled. “You killed him.”

  “I do what is necessary to protect the Empire.” There was not a bit of expression in Jazoan’s voice. The usual blankness was back in his eyes. His emotions were colder than she’d ever felt them before.

  Why shouldn’t he take it calmly? The responsibility for Ryan’s death was all on her, wasn’t it? The guilt was hers.

  “What’s wrong with simply trusting our own people?”

  It was a stupid question and Zoe knew it. What if the Hajim interrogated the prisoners? What if Ryan only let a word about her slip inadvertently? Trust couldn’t be part of the equation when the stakes were this high.

  But now she had the loss of an innocent young man to mourn.

  “I hate this job,” she muttered.

  “There are other concerns,” Jazoan told her.

  He held out his hand, showing her a tiny device on his palm. She noticed a dark smear of blood on his thin wrist, and knew that it was from where he’d taken a hidden implant from under his skin.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I thought it was our last hope. I activated it as soon as I discovered Zoe Pappas was among the prisoners here a cycle ago.” The brief bitterness in Jazoan’s calm tone was frightening. “It’s a distress beacon,” he went on. “It’s supposed to call in help.”

  “Unit—”

  “No,” he cut her off. “No one’s coming.” He shook his head. “The retrieval beacon is not working. It’s broken. Or maybe it’s too deep down here for a signal to get out. Or it can’t penetrate planetary shielding. I don’t know. I only know that there’s no chance of getting you out.”

  The momentary flare of hope for rescue turned to a cold knot in Zoe’s stomach. Now she feared she’d never see daylight again.

  The bodyguard tossed the implant aside. It bounced against the wall with a metallic tinkle that was as sad and insignificant as the breaking of a toy.

  Then Jazoan put his hands on her shoulders, which shocked her to her core. Jazoan was the most restrained person she had ever met. For him to do more than touch her elbow was a sign of how desperate he believed the situation was.

  “You cannot be captured,” he said. “It cannot be allowed.”

  The words were almost toneless. They sounded like a mantra he’d repeated to himself over and over. And this frightened Zoe.

  She backed away from him, though they were still only inches apart in the cramped space.

  “I’ve already been captured,” she reminded him. “The point is to not get caught.”

  “The Porphyrgia cannot be captured. I am so sorry.”

  He lunged forward for a classic neck-snapping hold.

  Without time to scream, she bent and turned to pivot free. He countered with a clumsy grab, and trapped her with his forearm around her throat.

  19

  Doc knew Zoe didn’t want to see him right now, but he couldn’t stop moving down the corridor after her. He ignored questions that were called to him. He ignored the curious looks. He ignored his people for the sake of the woman. He kept going.

  Zoe! Listen to me!

  Nothing.

  How did she manage to block his thoughts when all he could think about was her?

  Pappas shouldn’t be more important to him than Barb Langly. Why had he left a lovely and perfectly willing partner to hunt down someone to whom he didn’t owe any explanations?

  He was afraid he knew the answer to that, and it wasn’t good.

  If you won’t listen, then forget. Forget what you saw, Zoe.

  There was a response this time.

  Don’t you Zoe me.

  Let me take away the pain.

  Don’t you dare try. Who do you think you’re dealing with?

  The resistance from her made him feel like he was trying to push a planet out of orbit. He dropped to his knees for a few seconds and shook his head to clear it.

  How could she do that? What was the matter with him?

  Killing the Asi had left him on the edge, the psychic energy that was mostly fear during the blackout had stimulated the hell out of the primitive part of him. He’d gotten too horny. Comforting Barb had turned into feeding, but it hadn’t felt right.

  Then Zoe showed up.

  “Doc? General, sir?”

  He looked up into the eyes of the worried woman standing in front of him. You don’t see me.

  His telepathy worked this time.

  She walked away. He got up and hurried on.

  He shouted thoughts at Zoe as he went. I’ve got the right to seek release where I can. The way I see it, you owe me an apology for interrupting. That was a very private moment you walked in on. We don’t show our fangs in public. I don’t need to explain my culture to you!

  This time she didn’t respond. He didn’t think she heard him. Her attention was on someone else.

  Who?

  He snarled with jealousy, but pushed the reaction down.

  Why care? Why was he trying to explain? Why was he rapidly approaching Zoe’s quarters when he was still hungry and horny as well as confused and embarrassed about why he was looking for her.

  Could it be because he wanted her but settled for someone else?

  Yeah, that was probably it. He was using her interruption as an excuse to be with Zoe.

  He was near the end of her hallway when the spike of terror hit his senses.

  “Zoe!”

  He had only a few seconds to get to her if he was going to save her life.

  He moved swiftly and silently up to the low entrance of her cave. His keen hearing picked up the almost silent combat. But it was his other senses that gave him the most information.

  He was aware of the frantic race of Zoe’s heartbeat, her fight for air. And worst of all, the terror mixed with the pain of betrayal.

  And he also caught a grief-filled thought from her attacker.

  Forgive me, Porphyrgia.

  Doc couldn’t just dive into the small space. He had to kneel at the doorway and reach inside. It took him precious moments to get a decent grip on Zoe’s attacker. When Doc finally grasped the other man’s arm, he wrenched him away from Zoe and out into the hallway.

  The man was a skilled fighter who instantly turned the attack on Raven.

  Doc pinned the man against the wall and showed his fangs in a wild, feral threat. “You touched my woman.” Furious, Doc attacked.

  Zoe clutched at her throat with one hand as she crawled out of her quarters. Panting, and dizzy with pain, she tried to shout.

  “Do—Ja—!”

  She wanted to shout, but all that came out was the raw whisper.

  She tried to get to them, but all she could do was crouch on her knees and watch the short struggle at the end of the barely lit hallway.

  She wanted to beg Raven to stop, to let her explain, but Jazoan had robbed her of her voice. He’d tried to rob her of her life. Within moments Raven robbed her bodyguard not only of his life, but possibly his soul as well.

  She couldn’t blame Raven’s actions. In fact, a small glow of pleasure at his protectiveness saved her from plunging into dark anguish at Jazoan’s betrayal.

  She stared helplessly while dragging much-needed air into her lungs. Shadow blocked much of her sight, as did Raven’s big body as he pressed Jazoan up against the wall.

  It was over in a few agonizing seconds.

  Then Raven left Jazoan’s body to fall to the floor and he was on his knees beside her. There was no question that Jazoan was dead.

  Raven’s hands touched her shoulders, just as Jazoan’s had minutes before. She finally managed a panicked gasp.

  Raven’s touch was warm, comforting. She tried to curse her reaction to him, to pull herself together, to—

  But all she really wanted was to be within the protection of Raven’s strong arms.

  20

  He pulled her back inside her quarters and held her closely against his wide chest. She coul
dn’t even struggle against being enfolded in the huge man’s embrace, and after a few seconds she didn’t want to struggle.

  She took comfort, whether she willed it or not.

  “You can’t control everything, sweetheart. Go ahead and cry.”

  Blast him for reading her mind—her emotions!

  “No magic involved. I’ve had plenty of experience in dealing with combat trauma.”

  He kept talking, but after a while the comforting deep rumble of his voice was all she heard while she cried and cried out every pain and fear she had.

  Gradually, the deep voice stopped and the crying stopped, and Zoe became acutely aware of Raven’s sheer size and presence. Her cheek absorbed the outline of chest muscles beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. His very slow, steady heartbeat was a lullaby against her ear. Her body rested against steel-hard thighs and his arms were metal bands protecting her back. She breathed in his distinctive scent and it was perfume, life-giving—

  Never mind that the scent of the blood of a man she’d thought of as a friend was on him. She now knew what Raven was, had witnessed his monstrous seductiveness and his voracious, killing hunger—

  But he had saved her.

  He was still saving her.

  Zoe couldn’t allow that.

  “I can tell you’re feeling more yourself,” he said. His hold loosened before she could start to pull away. He was suddenly all business. “Let me look at your throat.”

  The change in him shocked and stung her, and annoyed her when she realized this was the reaction Dr. Raven wanted to bring her fully back to herself. She stayed very still and glared at him, letting him know she was willing to suffer his touch—but just.

  He reached out, but instead of touching her neck, his fingertips settled beneath her chin and he tilted her head up. His face was a mask as he studied her.

  “Porphyrgia,” he finally murmured.

  Damn.

  She wanted to run away and hide instead of having to deal with his knowledge.

  Never mind how badly her throat hurt, she forced out words. “How could you have heard?”

  “He thought, Forgive me, Porphyrgia. That was his last thought.”

  Knowing Jazoan’s last thought made her want to cry again, to mourn—but now was not the time.

  “What did he mean?” Raven demanded. “Who was he?” he added.

  “He was the man you murdered,” she said.

  He wasn’t going to let her divert him with accusations. “Who was he? What did he mean?”

  She knew that Raven could attempt to take the answers from her mind. And she wasn’t sure if her shielding could hold up indefinitely to the strength of his kind’s telepathic powers. She was already pushing the limits of what she could artificially block. She didn’t have Raven’s natural telepathic powers.

  No one was supposed to know she’d been on that captured ship. The mission had been secret. The Hajim couldn’t find her. She was sworn to protect the Empire in any way she could. She’d thought her silence was for the best.

  But the man sworn to protect her had just tried to kill her. The man she now feared was not a man at all.

  But he had saved her.

  “What you want to know is classified information,” she told him.

  Raven laughed. “I’m still this base’s commander, Lieutenant,” he reminded her.

  She was still close enough to hysteria to let out a weak hiccup of laughter.

  Which he interpreted correctly.

  “I take it you think you outrank me.” He pressed his thumb against her chin. “How is that?”

  He closed his eyes for a moment.

  Zoe watched and waited, and read his changing expressions. He was not happy when his gaze met hers. She couldn’t help but give him a weak smile.

  He looked at her closely, running his thumbs over her brows and cheekbones and down the line of her jaw. “Please tell me you aren’t who I think you are.” He sighed. “Porphyrgia. The literal translation is ‘born to the Purple.’ ”

  “Born in the Purple,” she corrected. “It’s actually a ceremonial birthing room covered in purple porphyry in the—”

  “Wherever it is, the word still means ‘heir to the Byzant throne.’ Are you really the Porphyrgia?”

  She couldn’t manage a silent nod with him holding her face, but she whispered, “Yes.”

  His eyes closed again. “Holy shit.”

  She wasn’t used to her title evoking that sort of reaction, but she didn’t blame him a bit. She knew exactly how he felt. She’d been more than stunned when her sister died and left her stuck with inheriting a job nobody in their right mind should want.

  His hand dropped away from her face, and she immediately missed the warmth of it.

  But who touched the Porphyrgia, after all?

  “Don’t expect me to bow,” he growled.

  She rubbed her throat. “I don’t.”

  Raven gave her a long, intense stare. Perhaps he was trying to reconcile her current appearance with images he’d seen in the media.

  “Shorter and skinnier,” he said at last.

  She nodded.

  He tilted his chin toward the hall. “Who was that man?”

  “Head of my—” She coughed. “—security.”

  “Then why was he trying to kill you?”

  She didn’t like thinking about it, but it was necessary to face the truth, even though it sent a cold shiver through her. “For the good of the Empire.”

  Perhaps Jazoan had been right in what he’d done. To him it hadn’t been an assassination attempt but an act of patriotism. The safety of the people of Byzant was more important than her life.

  “He was trying to kill you to help you?”

  She couldn’t help but be pleased with Raven’s outrage.

  “Wasn’t it his job to protect you at any cost?”

  “He saw killing me as protection—I can’t say I agree with his solution. Not yet, at least.”

  He turned his outrage on her and gave her shoulders a slight shake. “Not yet?”

  “If the Hajim discover me—here …” She shook her head.

  “… they’d use you,” he agreed. He touched her forehead. “They’d break you to find out what’s in there. The Empire would fight even harder to get you back.”

  “And more people would die.”

  His hand moved to her throat to caress the bruising. His touch was warm—and comforting. She couldn’t want it not to be comforting.

  She reminded herself of his glowing eyes, of the sharp glitter of fangs, and told herself that he wasn’t exactly human. Any emotional response to him might not be real. Might be something this telepathic being imposed on her.

  “I’ve got to get you to the infirmary to have a look at that.”

  This reminder that he was a doctor sworn to help humans completely blew apart the shield she tried to build against him. She knew that depending on anyone, completely trusting anyone—caring—for anyone was a danger. To him more than her in this situation.

  I’ve got to get you out of my senses, Raven.

  “I’m fine,” she told him. It didn’t help that her voice was still hoarse.

  You’re not the only one with that sensory problem, Pappas.

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  “Of my senses?”

  “Of your health.”

  “You’re a vampire.”

  Her own bluntness surprised her. She was supposed to be subtle, discreet, a diplomat. She hadn’t meant to bring this up. It didn’t help her chagrin that he grinned at her.

  “I am a vampire,” he said. “Like all my ancestors before me back to Lady Lilith, beloved of the moon goddess.” He shrugged. “At least that’s what my parents told me.”

  21

  She wondered how he could sound so casual about such a frightening subject. Then she recalled that he’d had his whole life to get used to the idea of being a blood-drinking, night-dwelling parasitic creature. Which was certainly
not his view of himself, and shouldn’t be hers, either. But the image of fangs and eyes shining from the dark—

  “You’re scared of me, aren’t you?” he asked. “Do you think I’m a monster?”

  She hated that her reaction was so obvious. It was also very confused, very complicated, irrational in several ways she didn’t want to explore. She fell back on diplomatic language when she replied.

  “I have not been trained to think about the suprahuman citizens of the Empire as monsters.” She rubbed her aching throat and continued in a slow whisper. “It’s just that when I saw you with Barb—”

  She hadn’t meant to say that, either!

  “You got jealous.”

  “I—”

  “It was the sex,” he said. “You got a whiff of my pheromones swirling around the place when you caught me with Barb. I can have a certain … effect on women. When I want to,” he added. “When they want it. You responded because you wanted to.”

  “You think so?”

  “It’s a fact.”

  “Vanity is not becoming, General.”

  “Can’t help it, I’m a Prime.”

  Zoe found his grin infuriatingly charming, so she took refuge in continuing with her rational explanation. “When I recognized that you were a vampire my subconscious called up data from assisting my mother—”

  “Your mother. That would be the empress?”

  “I prefer to call her Mom. But in this context my mother was presiding at a trial in her capacity as chief justice.”

  “When you subconsciously helped her?”

  “Stop playing with words, Raven. That’s what I do.”

  He laughed. “You’re cute when you’re flummoxed.”

  She glared.

  He went on. “Just what was this trial about that turned you chicken when you saw my fangs?”

  “It was a sentient rights case that proposed revoking the citizenship status of several suprahuman groups.”

  All humor left him. “The Purists were at it again, eh? I don’t remember hearing about this.”

  “It was one of the highly classified Star Chamber proceedings she presides over. A test case, like the colonists’ suits over settling restricted worlds. In this case the Exclusionists—”