Blood Double

by Connie Suttle

  "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 S
kel 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.

  Perhaps it's for the best, I berated myself. I was never destined to have friends. Or lovers. I was only a thing to be used and tossed aside on a whim. Teeg's compulsion was likely the reason I hadn't heard from Kooper—he wasn't aware of my existence, just like Stellan. Steeling my resolve, I realized I'd have to go hunting Erithia Cordan and her obsessed contingent myself.

  * * *

  Kay's Journal

  "Kay, what happened? You can tell us," Frank coaxed. I sat in the middle of Frank's bed, between Frank and Shane. Trace lounged on a chair nearby, watching us.

  "I don't want to," I whispered. The younger, more frightened side of me was about to crumble. The older, more reasonable side cursed myself and what I'd done. I'd handed information to the Vice-Director of the Alliance Security Detail during a brief visit, and he was certain to come sniffing after more. At least I'd gained employment at NorthStar using my official name, Kalia Sollo. I'd likely have been jailed already if I'd used my alias, Kay Zahn.

  They'd seen my scars after all—that was evident, and that had resulted in a visit from Lendill Schaff. Iversti always drew sun wheels on his victims' flesh with a long, thin dagger. Iversti also had connections to the bigger and badder. Cull's name, too, would hit a dead end when it was researched—that name had been created from the ether, just as my records had been.

  "Come on, sissy, let's see that middle of yours. We're healers, remember?"

  "Frank, you can't fix this," I muttered and attempted to climb over Shane to get away.

  "No, stay here with us. We'll wait until you feel better," Frank sighed. "Put your head on my shoulder, baby girl."

  "But why?" My voice was muffled against Frank's shoulder.

  "Shhh," Frank soothed. Shane reached over and touched my forehead with his fingers. I was unconscious immediately.

  * * *

  "You know this will be difficult for me," Kevis murmured, examining the scars on Kalia's body.

  "Kev, you're the best at this," Frank begged. "Somebody tortured her. We have to get to the bottom of this. She practically runs away if a straight man approaches her."

  "Come on, this is the most beautiful woman you've ever seen. Admit it. Doesn't she deserve your help?" Shane wheedled.

  "She deserves help," Kevis ran fingers through light-brown hair, his hazel eyes troubled, a frown marring his features. "I'll talk to Dad. Maybe we can get started on this soon. Have you contacted the Larentii to see if the scars can be removed?"

  "I haven't gotten that far. I'll have Mom ask Pheligar if he can do it or if Lenigar or one of the others might be willing, as soon as she and Dad get back from assignment. This had to happen over several years, Kevis. I can't even begin to comprehend what she went through while somebody was carving this stuff into her skin," Franklin shook his head.

  "Some of those cuts are deeper than that—I'm surprised she lived over it," Kevis muttered. "Dad is away, too, or I'd ask him to come now."

  * * *

  "Any new visions?" Ashe asked, holding back a sigh. Rabis sat on a bench outside his modest home, peeling potatoes for his evening meal of stew.

  "No." Rabis didn't hold back his sigh. "I get brief, blurring images. As if things keep changing from one moment to the next."

  "Is she still close, though?"

  "Yes. All the indications are there. Have you ever told the others what she looks like—so they might help?"

  "No. I'm almost afraid to tell them." Ashe rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

  "Perhaps if you described her to them," Rabis' voice trailed off.

  "Grandfather, I worry for her. Ever since you said she would be damaged and would mistrust another woman, I've worried. I've warned the others—the women—to stay away from the main house, too. Things are so unsettled, now, and everything is worse since I've detected evidence of a mind cloud."

  "A mind cloud?" Rabis jerked his head up in alarm.

  "Grandfather, you and the others inside my shield should be safe, but I can't guarantee that safety if you travel beyond the boundary of SouthStar."

  "Something else to protect us from, besides aging?" Rabis lifted an eyebrow. "How long do you expect us to stay here, before boredom or something else comes to lure us away?"

  "I don't know." Ashe raked fingers through slightly curly, light-brown hair. "I hope to keep all of you safe for as long as it takes. The Ir'Indicti is supposed to save the race, not allow it to die."

  "But that requires remaining here forever, if the time isn't right. You say yourself that only someone with a great deal of power can place two different time periods on either side of a gate and hold it long enough for several to walk through. And you say that your love was standing there with the shining woman, and that she sent mindspeech to you. The half-Elemaiyan children are here already—they merely appeared one day, but your love hasn't come. That means that two separate times were joined together at once, and one of those times hasn't happened, yet."

  "I know that, Grandfather. What if the mind cloud is attempting to eliminate that second timeline, so the ones who are here now will disappear into nothing? If that time and the one who manipulated it is destroyed, what will that mean for the rest of us? There will be dire consequence if they fail to accomplish the task within the designated time."

  "Surely that can't be," Rabis mumbled, dropping his paring knife into a bowl filled with potatoes.

  "I hope that's not the case, but there's nothing else I can do for now. With a possible mind cloud floating around, nobody is safe."

  "Child, you are the Mighty Hand. Surely you should be able to do something about that." Rabis gave Ashe a worried glance before lifting his knife and turning his attention back to the potatoes.

  "That's just it, Grandfather. What I detected,
well, I couldn't find the source, and it was too elusive for me to attempt a cure."

  "What about the other two? Might you come together and defeat it?"

  "What if that's what it's waiting for? Hoping for? Maybe it was placed to lure us into the open, so we can be destroyed."

  "What a frightening thought," Rabis muttered.

  * * *

  Breanne's Journal

  I watched Trevor walk past, with one of his assistant deputies. I knew the deputy had only worked for Trevor three of Le-Ath Veronis' weeks, and had once been comesula. Now he was vampire, just as Trevor's other deputies were.

  Did I want to call out to Trevor? Yes. I did. Instead, I pulled back into the shadows between two casinos. I was hunting Erithia Cordan and the obsessed man who'd trailed at her heels like a puppy when I'd seen them at Niff's.

  A Council meeting had taken up most of my day, and after filching a bottle of blood substitute from the kitchen—I'd gotten quite adept at misting into the pantry, after all—I'd put off sleep in order to go sleuthing after a woman who held more than a few in her thrall.

  My biggest problem, however, seemed to be that the specific obsession she'd placed couldn't be read in others, even employing the best of my curse to do it. I could read her, up to a point, anyway, and knew she'd placed the obsession, but couldn't read what the obsession was.

  Obsession. That was the word I'd read when I'd seen her briefly, and she'd been planning to place more but I'd dropped my eyes before I could read the names of those she intended to obsess.

  I wondered, too, how and why such a race as hers had been created in the beginning and what had happened—nobody seemed to know of it now. Sirenali. That was the race in question, and in all my research and gleanings on comp-vid for information, I'd not found a single word about them.

  * * *

  "Willem, tell me what you see. What are the Winds predicting?" Ildevar's gaze was troubled as he asked his elvish seer to consider the future.