Dark Stranger

by Susan Sizemore

  “Were doing what they’ve been doing for thousands of years. When anyone’s different from the norm, killing the outsiders is their philosophy. Especially if the ones that are different look like you—somehow that makes them even more dangerous.”

  “There’s also the traditional argument that suprahu-mans are predators.”

  He shrugged. “We’re a little higher on the food chain than mortals, but that doesn’t make us evil.”

  Having watched him both give pleasure and kill in the way of his kind, she now understood the visceral fear and fascination that fueled prejudice against the suprahumans. At least she was ashamed of her primitive response.

  “How did the court case turn out?” Raven asked.

  “You won.”

  “I’m happy to hear I’m still a citizen of the Empire.”

  Zoe recalled that there had been nasty but well-argued claims of the Exclusionist representatives that people such as vampires were not only parasites, but should be classified as enemy aliens. Her mom had not agreed.

  Nor had she at the time.

  “Symbiotic,” he said. “Not parasitic.”

  “And telepathic.”

  “I wasn’t reading your mind just then. It was more the look on your face that told me what you were thinking.”

  “You did bring out a lot of primitive responses I didn’t know I had.”

  “I noticed the revulsion you felt when you saw me with Barb.”

  “That wasn’t all revulsion.”

  Zoe put her hand over her mouth, appalled at the admission she’d just made. Especially since it drew a smug grin from Raven. He’d gotten exactly the reaction he expected from her.

  “Told you you were jealous.”

  Then again, better jealousy than prejudice.

  “Tell me more about how you feel about vampires.” He preened. “Me in particular.”

  “You’re the first vampire I’ve ever met.”

  “I know there’s a vampire representative at the Imperial court.”

  “But I’ve never met her.”

  “You said you researched—”

  “I compiled datafiles, I didn’t interview real people. Suprahumans aren’t the most vocal or forthcoming minority in the Empire.”

  “My granny always says that it’s better to keep a low profile if you want to keep your head.”

  “Your secretiveness makes you even more vulnerable to the prejudice. You can’t make people forget you exist anymore.”

  “I don’t have to tell people I’m a vampire to take care of them.”

  “Ah, but isn’t part of the problem the way vampires treat humans as if they need to be taken care of? It gives the impression that you’re up to something.”

  “I see. I give you the same creepy feeling you get from the Benso. Not all vampires are good guys. We’re just … people.”

  “Intellectually I know that.” Zoe swallowed hard. “But—”

  “We’re scary.”

  Vampires were faster than mortals, longer lived, stronger, blood-drinking, secretive, psychically gifted people who were citizens of the Byzant Empire, just like everyone else.

  “I’m not denying a visceral reaction to you. I can control my gut feelings. Besides, the Benso don’t creep me out—I was using that as an excuse not to go near them. I’m trying not to be recognized.”

  “What do I call you now?” he asked at the same time.

  “Lieutenant Pappas.”

  “I thought your name was Theodora.”

  Zoe grimaced. “I’ve never liked that official name.” Never mind that her full name was Princess Theodora Zoe Anastasia Maria Ora, or the numerous other official and ceremonial titles, or that her throne name, should she live long enough to assume the Byzant throne, would be Basilia Theodora the Eighth.

  “Only my great aunt Constanza has ever called me Theodora.”

  But then, Constanza was the cardinal of the Byzant Orthodox Church who had presided at her baptism. That formidable ecclesiastic official took the naming rite with proper seriousness.

  “My friends call me Zoe.”

  “All right, Zoe. What am I going to do with you?”

  22

  She guessed that meant he considered himself her friend, whether she felt the same way about him or not. And what she felt about Matthias Raven was far too complicated to sort out right now.

  The tragic reality of the moment reclaimed her attention. She glanced toward the hallway. “We have a dead body to deal with and—”

  “I’m well aware of that, Lieutenant, and it can wait.” He cut her off, in a tone that firmly reminded her that he was General Raven. “How do I protect you and my people?”

  “How do we protect every prisoner in this facility?” she countered.

  “We? Every prisoner? Wait a minute—”

  “I realize that your duty is to the human prisoners, but my duty is to every being the Hajim strive to oppress.”

  He gave a low rumble of laughter. “Nice speech. Are you thinking that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, or do you really believe that?”

  “Yes,” she said. “To both. I can be pragmatic and idealistic at the same time. The Empire’s policy has always been to prefer diplomacy over war. Our religion teaches that all aliens are to be respected, and protected when necessary.”

  “To be loved as we love ourselves,” he quoted scripture back to her.

  “Vampires do believe that, right?”

  “We aren’t orthodox, but yes we believe in protecting sentient beings.” His answer came reluctantly.

  Zoe nodded. This was no time to debate the old argument between intelligent aliens and all life.

  “The Hajim have tested our beliefs,” she said. “They’ve forced us into a conflict that makes us seem like the aggressor at times to other sentient races, but that is not the way it should be, or the way that we want it to be. We need to make strong, peaceful alliances to solve the Hajim problem.

  “Talking hurts,” she added.

  “Then stop making speeches for a while.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him, and got his deep, rumbling laugh in response. The sound sent a hot shiver through her. Their gazes locked, sending fire rushing between them with such intensity that they both gasped.

  Oh, please! Now was hardly the time for the attraction to kick in so strongly.

  They looked away at the same time. Zoe got herself under control by staring at the rough dark surface of the cave wall for a few moments before turning back to Raven. He was taking deep, calming breaths. She smiled.

  “Stop staring at my chest,” he growled.

  “Yes, sir.”

  She rubbed her throat, annoyed at their lengthy conversation when it was physically hard to get the words out.

  He said, “We may have to destroy the Hajim to solve the Hajim problem.”

  She nodded. “That may be true. Unfortunately. Let’s not talk about it anymore right now.”

  Of course, neither of them wanted to consider the possibility that the Hajim might get humans first. If the enemy captured her, that would bring the Hajim that much closer to winning.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe Jazoan had the right id—”

  “Negative, Lieutenant.”

  His intensity was frightening, though it sparked a deep pleasure in her. She still explained, “No matter what happens to me, the Imperial line will not be allowed to die out. There are embryos frozen for both me and my sister, and surrogate volunteers.” She revealed a state secret to him. “There will be an heir in the event of my pass—”

  He grabbed her shoulders. “Your passing matters to me!”

  His strong reaction brought tears to her eyes.

  “How the hell did the Porphyrgia get caught by the bad guys in the first place? How could your minders be so careless? How could you be that stupid?”

  Her touched pleasure was throttled by the sudden vehemence he turned on her. “I—”

  “The government has an
obligation to keep the Imperial family safe. Regular people fight wars—it’s your people’s job to run them.”

  “It’s my job to stop wars. I insisted on attending the negotiations so that—”

  “You could get yourself captured?”

  “I was surrounded by an entire fleet.”

  “Didn’t help, did it?”

  She winced. “I’m a diplomat.” She defended her choice. “I spent my entire life training for that sort of meeting.”

  “You were a diplomat. Now you’re the heir. You are not expendable and you should have thought of that before insisting on getting into a dangerous situation.”

  “Don’t you just hate always being right?” she snarled at him.

  He rubbed her head. “You’re so cute.”

  “Hey!”

  “Shhh!” He turned toward the doorway.

  He was very still for a moment, head tilted toward the cave opening as he listened very closely. Then he moved silently out into the hallway.

  Zoe pocketed the remains of the broken retrieval beacon and followed. The faint lighting seemed brighter, the air fresher after the time they’d spent in the confines of the tiny cave.

  She watched Doc and tried very hard not to look at the remains of the man she still thought of as a friend. She tried not to think about how Jazoan had been part of a quad and how there would be a husband and two wives and several children to mourn him.

  As far as she could tell, the dim corridor was empty, but she trusted Raven’s suprahuman senses. “What is it?” she asked him.

  “Mental trace of someone,” Raven said. “Something. I think. Gone now.” He shook his head.

  “Alien?”

  “Well, certainly not human. Probably my imagination; I’m not easy to spy on.”

  “For which I am grateful.” She moved to stand over Jazoan, her fists clenched at her side. “What am I going to tell his family?”

  Raven’s hand touched her shoulder, gentle despite his size. “I can’t apologize for this.”

  She turned her head to meet his gaze. It took her a few seconds before she could work through her conflicting emotions. “You took the correct action, under the circumstances. Thank you,” she added fervently.

  Zoe barely restrained herself from hugging the big man, though she really, really wanted to put her arms around him. She missed having his arms encircling her.

  “What now?” she asked instead.

  “I could report him dying in the riot—if we’d had a riot.”

  “Maybe he fell off a ramp in the total darkness?”

  Doc rubbed his jaw. “I like that one. I wouldn’t mind making the camp commandant take some of the blame. It might make him hesitate before pulling a blackout again.”

  After a few more moments of thought, Zoe said, “It would be safer if the death wasn’t reported at all. What if Jazoan was somehow traced back to my security detail?”

  “Is that likely?”

  “No. But—”

  “I can see how we can’t take any chances. But a hidden body’s not likely to go undetected forever. Unless …” He scooped up the body. “Stay here,” he told her.

  Hide, you mean, she thought as he walked away.

  23

  That girl’s skittish and frustrated and too damned scared to be left alone, Doc thought. I think she was born sensible, and trained to be even more sensible, but everybody has a breaking point, and she’s strained enough that she’s going to bolt.

  Any trouble she gets into will be my fault. What the hell am I doing leaving the bloody Porphyrgia alone? Should have taken her to the infirmary and left her with somebody there. My bloodlust is sated, but not the other kind, and I want Zoe bad. I’m running from her right now, as much as anything. Got to put some distance between us before instinct …

  Imagine that, hungering after the bluest blood of them all.

  He gave a low, ironic laugh, but knew he wasn’t thinking straight, and that was not good. Not just for the safety of the Porphyrgia. He had to figure out what to do about her while still protecting everyone else as well.

  The Hajim had already come looking once, and used the Benso in the hunt. These inquiries were making the Kril guards increasingly suspicious of the humans. The Asi were smart enough to know the Hajim were up to something. It was impossible even for him to tell what the enigmatic Denthera prisoners thought of anything.

  Doc wondered if it would be easier or more difficult for him to blur the mind of the next Hajim hunter that showed up now that he knew what the enemy was looking for. Maybe they’d get lucky and the Hajim would conclude that their quarry was dead.

  But the Hajim never gave up, did they?

  How long would the Porphyrgia’s solution of simply assuming the identity of a naval officer hold up?

  Would the Hajim manage to insert spies into the camp? Would another of her security people show up and attempt to kill her?

  He snarled possessively at the thought, knowing that he’d do exactly what he’d done to Jazoan to anyone who tried. And not because she was the heir to the throne.

  Mine! he thought.

  Porphyrgia.

  Remember that. She belongs to all of us. We belong to her? I only know I have to save her.

  But what was he to do? Post a guard on Zoe fulltime? That would be a first step.

  It would have to be done very subtly, if at all, to keep even the human prisoners from knowing. He hated putting the ones he trusted with this duty in jeopardy, asking them to keep Zoe’s dangerous secret. No, that wouldn’t work. He couldn’t tell them why he wanted her guarded, just order them to do it without a need to know.

  Then again, there was a war on. Orders were orders, and there were plenty of prisoners in Camp Five that would welcome the chance to act like military people once more.

  But could he risk taking any action that the Kril might notice? They weren’t particularly enthusiastic about the guard duties the Hajim had forced on them, but they feared retribution from the Hajim more than they minded causing trouble for their charges.

  While he tried to work out the Zoe situation with one part of his mind, much of his attention was on the people he passed as he hurried down the murky corridors of the prison. He moved fast and silently, using the shadows to his advantage, but there was no way a man his size carrying a limp body over his shoulder could be completely ignored.

  So, with every person he encountered he had to telepathically tell them that they didn’t see him. This worked on most people. For everyone else he tried to plant the thought that all they saw was Doc taking a patient to the infirmary.

  Instead, he went into Asi territory.

  Their sentries let him pass, and the squat aliens surrounded him quickly as he advanced. In fact, they pushed him deeper into their tunnel system than he wanted to go, clacking their large pincers and chattering in a language he didn’t know. Because he was trying to keep this a peaceful visit, he went along with them.

  He hoped that the followers of the one he’d killed earlier weren’t getting ready to take revenge. How did one tell if they were angry or curious or partying? He wished Zoe’d been able to teach him some of the language—she’d tried and he’d ignored her efforts while enjoying her company. He wished she was with him—but he always wished that.

  He’d put the Porphyrgia in danger by letting her go alone among enemy aliens. He would not do that anymore.

  He could not do that anymore.

  Blast it, Zoe, you let me put you in danger on purpose! he thought angrily.

  You let me do my job.

  He didn’t know if the unapologetic thought was hers or if he was letting his imagination make excuses for him.

  He hoped it was imagination, because his being able to share thoughts with this nontelepath was one of the signs of a condition that would have been difficult to deal with before and was now impossible since finding out her true identity.

  His Asi escort finally halted when they reached a circular chamber where
several corridors came together. The place was crowded, yet eerily silent, the Asi as still as shiny black statues. He slowly lowered the body to the floor. Then he gestured to it and turned slowly, hoping to find a way to communicate what he was offering.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked when he found Zoe standing not far from him.

  She wasn’t a tall woman, and it terrified him to see her standing waist-high in a sea of serrated alien claws.

  He pointed for her to leave. “When I give an—”

  “I figured out what you had to do with Jazoan’s body and followed you,” she said. “The way you were using telepathy as crowd control I almost lost you more than once,” she admitted. “I kept wanting to forget what you were doing. Fortunately, I am fairly strong-minded.”

  “I ordered you to stay in your quarters.”

  “We both know you need a translator.”

  He wanted to repeat in a very loud, firm in-your-face Marine way that he’d ordered her to stay in her quarters—but how did one reprimand the Porphyrgia?

  Politely, he supposed.

  “You’re right,” he had to agree. He pointed at the body. “Tell them I brought them a present.”

  “A wise diplomatic gesture on your part, sir.”

  “This is no time to suck up, Pappas.”

  “Yes, General. It is a convenient way of disposing of a corpse.”

  “That it is. Tell them.”

  She spoke for a while in the clicking, buzzing language of the Asi. They all continued to stand deathly still while she talked, not an antenna or eyestalk or claw moved.

  After she was done the crowd parted for an alien that was smaller and more delicate-looking than the others. It came forward and bent over the body. After a few moments it swiveled its eyes toward Zoe and clicked and clacked and snarled at her.

  Even Doc recognized the tone of contempt in the alien voice.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “She says that the meat is dry. That it is an insult to offer flesh without any juice.” Zoe spoke to the female in Asi again. Then she said to him, “I explained that we mean no disrespect to them. I told her that since we do not consume our own dead we are offering one of our own to them to help alleviate the food shortages that plague all of us. That we do this in the spirit of cooperation and mutual benefit.”