by Roxie Ray
I was shocked to hear all of this. “M'ruvev, I had no idea.”
M'ruvev shook his head. “When the Krote came for my ship, there was a part of me that welcomed them… that wanted to order the rest of the crew to the escape pods, and then sit and wait to be blasted into space dust. And then you appeared on our sensor screens. At first, I thought you were some twisted final joke the stars had sent to taunt me. That you intended to watch from a safe distance, and laugh at my misfortune. But no. The Angel's Wrath incinerated two of the raiders' ships, and drove the third away. You called out to us. Made sure we were safe. You even offered emergency supplies and medical aid. When you left, I wasn't foolish enough to think that such a small, isolated incident would end the hostilities between the Valkredians and the Mana. But it restored my hope that such a thing could be possible, in time. More than that – it made me feel that there was selflessness and nobility out there. That the universe was not cold and indifferent. I petitioned my predecessor K'buuda to seek out peace, and when he was no longer in charge, I did everything I could to replace him. All so we could reach this point. So we could end this destructive conflict once and for all.” His lip curled, baring his small rows of teeth. When he spoke again, his voice cracked. “And now you have ruined it all.”
“I don't believe that,” I insisted. “And what's more, M'ruvev, I don't think you want to believe that either. You said it yourself… there are elements within your government that don't want the treaty to succeed. I have noticed the same sentiment among some of my own people. Surely, this attack on the Aquavor was carried out by individuals who wish to prolong the war. What information can you send us about the Valkredian ships that attacked your people? Design configurations, identification codes, even engine output readings?”
M'ruvev sighed. “This data was masked with static sensor fields, holographic projections, and obscured engine signatures.”
“There! You see?” I crowed triumphantly. “If I truly wanted to keep waging war on your people, why would I conceal such things while still allowing you to determine that the ships firing on you were from the Valkred fleet? No, those ships were being flown by crew members who weren't supposed to be piloting them. The masked data was for my benefit as much as yours. Whoever did this was acting independently. Surely your people would understand that.”
M'ruvev considered this carefully, and then gave me an almost imperceptible nod. “Very well. You have five days to prove your theory and punish those responsible, Akzun. That's as long as I can give you before I must heed the will of my people… and rededicate our resources to the swift and decisive conquest of Valkred. I beg you: Do not make me regret this reprieve.”
M'ruvev's holographic form vanished before I could utter a response.
I sighed angrily. All those overtures leading up to the summit, and it felt like we were right back where we started. Worse – now that M'ruvev felt personally betrayed, he wouldn't hold back one bit. He'd keep coming and coming until one of us was dead and the other victorious.
And now I had to deal with another traitor among my own people.
I touched a comm button. “Send for Torqa and Zark. I must speak with them immediately.”
Dhako's voice replied: “They're already here, Blood Ruler. They heard about the attack on the Aquavor, and they're waiting to see you.”
“Good. Send them in.”
As I waited for them to enter, I thought about the haunted look in M'ruvev's eyes as he talked about the day I rescued his ship – a look that was all the more chilling, given how expressionless most Mana's faces are. They were, by and large, known as a stoic people, and have long endured many racist jokes from other species about being “cold fish.”
I'd always felt that M'ruvev was a bit more sensitive than the rest of the Mana, based on my dealings with him. But I'd never had any inkling of his deeply rooted mental and emotional issues before. If I'd known about them previously, would I have used them as a way to find common ground with him – or would I have tried to determine some way to exploit them, to turn the tide of the war in my favor?
I wanted to believe it was the former, but deeper down, I suspected that if it had come down to it, it might have been the latter instead. War doesn't often give us a chance to explore the better aspects of our nature, does it?
The door to the screen room swished open, and Zark entered, with Torqa right behind him. Both wore expressions of concern.
“I am so sorry this has transpired, Blood Ruler,” Torqa said, putting a hand on my shoulder. Her face was still stern, but this was the most genuine sympathy I'd ever heard in her voice. “I know how hard you've worked for this peace treaty, how much you wanted to believe in its outcome.”
“Even as you openly criticized me for it,” I reminded her, “and called my leadership into question.”
Her gaze never wavered. “I provided the best counsel I could, as I always have and always will. Still, I would never wish such a disappointment on you. I take no pleasure in having been right.”
“Were you right, Torqa?” Zark asked, a bit sharply. “Were you really? From what we've been able to determine, it was the Valkredians who broke the treaty, not the Mana.”
“Which only proves my point, Zark,” she replied evenly: “That our own people weren't ready to see you capitulate to these aliens. That the way to keep them under control was to refuse to back down until we had accepted the Mana's unconditional surrender.”
“So that's your theory.” I turned to Zark. “What's yours, brother?”
Zark shrugged. “It's hard to deny the evidence pointing to hardline elements in the Valkred military. Still…” He trailed off.
“What?” I demanded impatiently. “We're in the middle of a crisis, Zark. We don't have time for dramatic pauses and pensive chin-stroking.”
“Well, I only mean to say… how many of our vessels were captured by the Mana during the course of the war? Plenty of their own people disapproved of the peace summit. They might have reconfigured our ships, updated them to camouflage the sensor readings, and fired on their own people. Depending on their level of zealotry, it's a sacrifice I'm sure they'd be willing to make, just to keep the flames of war stoked.”
“I'm still not convinced that the human female isn't involved in this somehow,” Torqa sneered. “She shows up in the same room where the summit is being held, and suddenly you just have to possess her, outside the bounds of all reason or sense? And then, her first evening here, there's a skirmish that threatens the peace? No, no, this is all far too coincidental. I still maintain that she was sent to you deliberately, to distract and disarm you at the exact moment when it's most important for you to focus on your duties as Blood Ruler.”
“Presuming that your farfetched theory is true – and I highly doubt that it is – who sent her?” Zark asked. “The Mana? Our own people? For all we know, it could even be some third group… maybe the Krote wanted to destabilize the peace so we'd be too busy fighting each other to defend ourselves from their raiding parties. Or some other species, worried that a long-term alliance would threaten their trading interests.”
“Congratulations, both of you,” I said dourly. “You've managed to narrow the list of potential suspects down to every civilized race in the galaxy. Wonderful. At this rate, the five days M'ruvev gave us to get to the bottom of this will be just enough time for everyone on our planet to write out their Last Will and Testament.”
“If we only have five days, then we must act fast,” Torqa insisted. “Blood Ruler, you must allow me to properly interrogate the human woman, to make sure she's not a factor in all of this.”
“I'll handle the woman myself,” I replied.
Torqa rolled her eyes. “Imagine my surprise.”
“I won't have her tortured to death by you on the basis of a mere theory… and a flimsy one, at that. No, Torqa, if she's hiding something from us, I'll discover it. Meanwhile, you will pursue any leads pointing to our own forces’ participation in this attack, a
nd Zark will make inquiries among the Mana. I expect reports shortly.”
“Why is Zark assigned to the Mana?” Torqa balked, putting her hands on her hips.
“Because I have more finesse, of course,” Zark answered her with a grin. “If you go charging in headfirst and guns blazing, the Mana's mouths will snap shut, and the tensions will only be escalated. But as Akzun's beloved brother, I can make better inroads, since they'll assume I'm as sympathetic to the cause of peace as our Blood Ruler is.”
I nodded. “Precisely. Now get to it, both of you, and tell me what you find. We don't have any time to waste.”
Torqa saluted, turning on her heel and leaving. Zark stayed an extra moment, giving me a rueful smile and a small nod of understanding before he left. He knew how depressing the news of the Aquavor must have been for me.
I considered returning to Carly – but I was too emotional, too filled with rage and confusion. I was worried that if I were in her presence, these things would overtake me, and I'd give in to my desire to drink from her… that I’d become lost in my bloodlust and wouldn't be able to stop myself until it was too late, until I'd consumed too much of her blood and inadvertently killed her.
No. That would be an expensive mistake.
But there was some part of me that knew the expense was the least of my worries. That I simply didn't wish to harm her. Not if she was to be my mate, rather than my slave.
I needed to exorcise these feelings before seeing her again. First, though…
I hit the comm button. “Dhako?”
“Yes, sir?”
I keyed a sequence into the console. “I'm sending you some design specifications. Would you see to it that they are assembled immediately, and deliver them to the human upstairs?”
“Of course, sir. Right away.”
“Good. Thank you.”
I stepped out of the screen room and headed toward the training chamber, to lift weights and leap catwalks and dodge automated spiked weapons until the more immediate effects of the bloodlust had been sweated away.
I prayed to the Succubi that it would be enough.
7
Carly
While Akzun was away doing… well, whatever it was that Blood Rulers did when they were summoned for emergencies… I wandered around the tower a bit, exploring. I was trying to find out as much as I could about my host. My anxiety regarding my situation had started to subside during our last conversation, and had been replaced with a ravenous curiosity.
My entire life, I'd never known that there was intelligent life on other planets. Now I'd learned that not only did aliens exist, but some of them were vampires! Who would have guessed that? I was eager to learn more.
I found the strange blend of futurism and gothic architecture particularly fascinating. Clearly, the Valkredians were a race that embraced new technologies while still managing to respect and appreciate the beautiful elements of their low-tech past. I felt like humans could take a lesson from them in that regard; on Earth, everyone was obsessed with erasing the lovely edifices and antique masterworks of bygone eras in favor of whatever was newer, shinier, and cheaper. True craftsmanship was rare, and only found in the upper classes as hobbies and keepsakes. Everyone else had homes, clothes, furniture, and appliances that were mass-produced and only meant to last a handful of years at most.
There was no doubt that this planet was a bizarre and unfamiliar place – yet in some ways, I almost felt more at home here than I had on my own world.
After all, had it ever even been “my world?” As a member of the poorer class, I'd gone through most of my life feeling like a tenant, and an unwelcome one at that. I'd never really owned much of anything. The clothes I wore were secondhand. The places I lived belonged to landlords who had more money than I'd ever see in my lifetime. No matter how hard I worked, I could be fired on a whim.
Here, at least, I was important to someone.
I was still wishing Akzun had answered my question earlier. If he was so thirsty for me, why hadn't he drank any of my blood yet? Could it be that he was worried about scaring or hurting me? If so, a quarter of a million rula was a lot to pay just to keep me around as a decoration.
He couldn't have… feelings for me… could he?
I had to admit, the more time I spent with him (and the more my fear faded), the more handsome and graceful I was starting to find him. The pointed, vaguely wolf-like shape of his face was compelling, his dark eyes were hypnotic, and his pale skin made him look like a marble statue come to life. And those amazing feathered wings! When he'd flown me up to the top floor of the castle, I'd been too upset and indignant to enjoy it. Now, there was a part of me that was eager for him to sweep me up and fly me around again.
Jesus, what a surreal experience. Is this what my life has become – some silly B-movie from the 1950s? I Married An Alien From Outer Space?
The thought made me giggle. Then I heard someone clear his throat behind me, and turned to find the one called Dhako standing a short distance away, holding a square, flat box.
“For you,” he said. His accent was much heavier than Akzun's. “From the Blood Ruler.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the box from him.
He nodded, turned, and walked away.
I opened the box, and my jaw dropped. Inside was a form-fitting, long-sleeved shirt of silky, shimmering fabric that rippled in various shades of cool blue, like an ocean – and matching pants that were cut more loosely, with a high waist and tapered legs. Underneath were low-heeled black boots that came up just above the ankle.
Speaking of craftsmanship, these clothes were magnificent.
And he remembered that I prefer pants to dresses. How considerate of him.
I ducked into Akzun's bedchamber, slipping out of the atrocious dress Nos had forced me to wear and putting on the outfit my host had sent me. As I dressed myself, I looked at the rows of portraits hanging on the walls. They were incredibly detailed renderings of proud, fierce-looking Valkred men and women.
Members of his family, perhaps? Or previous Blood Rulers? I made a mental note to ask him about it when he returned.
Meanwhile, there was a full-length mirror in the corner, and I twirled in front of it, admiring my new look.
Guess vampires are fine with mirrors after all… in space, at least.
The clothes were gorgeous. More than that, they almost seemed alive – I could feel the smooth fibers expanding and contracting against my skin, and warming me (which was good, since apparently these Valkreds liked to keep their homes like refrigerators). Part of me felt like I should be uneasy about clothing that breathed on its own, but the exquisite softness made it impossible for me to worry.
Maybe that's part of what they're designed to do. Maybe they're supposed to keep blood slaves calm so they won't try to run or put up a fight when it's time for their owners to snack on them.
Well, if that was true, I didn't much care. Calm was good. Calm meant it would be easier for me to consider my present situation, and what – if anything – I should do about it.
“So,” a female voice behind me snapped, “it appears as though you're just like the other females of your species: materialistic and vain. Not that you have much to be vain about, mind you.”
I turned and saw the Valkred woman who had been with Akzun at The Vein, sneering at me coldly.
“Short and squat,” she continued, walking around me in a tight circle and sizing me up. “Weak, brittle, mewling creatures, with ugly pinkish skin and flat little teeth. The only appealing thing about you is the blood you carry around inside you, and even that is too cloying and sugary – just thinking about it makes my fangs ache. Still, I suppose it's our leader's prerogative to indulge in expensive sweets now and then. Frankly, though, I don't know why he doesn't just drain you and get it over with.”
“If I've done something to offend you,” I began hesitantly, “I certainly didn't mean to, and I apologize. As you've probably guessed, I'm new to this planet, and I'm un
familiar with your customs –”
“Then again,” she went on as though I hadn't spoken at all, “he wouldn't be the first Blood Ruler to 'play with his food,' as you Earthlings say.” She gestured to one of the paintings. “Vylaad the Tenth, for example, was fond of making his slaves watch as he drained their blood into a series of decorative glass bottles, leaving just enough inside them to remain alive so that he could wait for them to produce more red cells to do it all over again.” She pointed to another face on the wall. “Then there was Batreyia the Fourth. She preferred to attach Gorvyan leeches to her slaves and let them gorge until they were fat and succulent enough to be removed, roasted, and eaten as a delicacy. Something about the way their digestive enzymes interacted with the blood made the flavor more appealing to her… and she claimed that the screams of horror from the slaves were her favorite music to dine to.”
“Listen, lady, if you're trying to scare me…”
“I am, and I'm succeeding. You may posture all you wish, but I can hear your pulse quicken from across the room, and it doesn't lie.” She singled out another portrait. “Then, of course, there was Rennfil the Seventh, a personal favorite of mine. He enjoyed feeding pieces of his blood slaves to each other, letting their unique tastes mingle… and savoring the terror in their eyes as they were forced to chew and swallow their companions' body parts and organs raw. 'Have you done something to offend me,' you ask? Your very presence here is an offense to me.”
“I'm sorry to hear that, but in case you haven't noticed, coming here wasn't exactly my choice,” I snapped. Whoever this woman was, she was pissing me off.
She raised an eyebrow. “Wasn't it? Somehow, I doubt that.” She sniffed in my direction, and her nose wrinkled. “Hmm. Your scent isn't attractive to me, so obviously, your pores were engineered to secrete pheromones specifically targeting Akzun. Impressive. You'll have to tell me how your people managed that – after you've told me who sent you, and the parameters of your mission.”