BLOOD DOUBLE
A Novel by
CONNIE SUTTLE
The Author's contact information can be found at the end of this book.
For Walter, Joe, Sarah S., Lee D. and Dianne J.
Many thanks!
And for Perpetual Groove—thank you for the music.
Blood Double, copyright © 2013 by Connie Suttle
All rights reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents portrayed within its pages are purely fictitious and a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons (or vampires, werewolves, High Demons, Greater Demons, Lesser Demons, Larentii, shapeshifters, Ra'Ak, wizards, warlocks, witches, Saa Thalarr or gods) living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book, whole or in part, MAY NOT be copied or reproduced by mechanical means (including photocopying or the implementation of any type of storage or retrieval system), without the express written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
Other books by Connie Suttle:
(Blood Destiny Series)
Blood Wager
Blood Passage
Blood Sense
Blood Domination
Blood Royal
Blood Queen
Blood Rebellion
Blood War
Blood Redemption
Blood Reunion
(Legend of the Ir'Indicti Series)
Bumble
Shadowed
Target
Vendetta
Destroyer
(High Demon Series)
Demon Lost
Demon Revealed
Demon's King
Demon's Quest
Demon's Revenge
Demon's Dream
(God Wars Series)
Blood Double
Blood Trouble*
*Forthcoming
Chapter 1
Prologue
When the formation of the Dark Realm was decreed in order to shape the balance of the created worlds, a request was sent out to the Hierarchy, asking for one from the higher levels to volunteer. That one would afterward be named Lord of the Dark Realm and hold sway over all he'd created—worlds and creatures alike.
None came forward. Another call came, and still none answered. Finally, Kifirin, high among the Nameless Ones but still a lesser god, offered. His offer was discounted at first, as he held insufficient power. The call went out a third time, and still none were willing.
"I grant this power to you," Kifirin's parent, one of the Al'Riyu who loved his child dearly, agreed to lend much of what he held to Kifirin. "This power will return to me, once the Dark Realm is complete. What you hold will be sufficient past that."
Kifirin bowed and accepted his parent's offer. The Dark Realm was created, according to Kifirin's designs and expectations. Then, because he had no previous experience at creating the races and held little knowledge of how sentient creatures might grow and develop away from his care, Kifirin made a promise never to interfere with the Dark worlds or their decisions. Thus were sown the seeds of the Dark Realm's destruction.
* * *
Reah's Journal
"Reah, you've done everything you can. The Lifegiver can't intervene or provide assistance if she's pregnant. The power required may be beyond us, even." Edward paced across the deck outside our suite. He was upset, just as I was, but he attempted to soothe me anyway.
"They're dying," I moaned, covering my face with shaking hands. "All those we brought forward to help in the Great Battle eighteen turns ago are being targeted, and new life on the Dark Worlds is snuffed out before it even has a chance to grow and develop."
"Look, we've already asked Belen for help, and he sent Lissa," Edward released a troubled sigh. "If she needs help, Belen said he'd ask Kiarra, Merrill and Adam to go later. Those four should be more than sufficient, if anything can be done at all. You and I know that this requires complete secrecy—it doesn't need to get out that it may be connected to the God Wars. The whole thing is frightening enough as it is, and the enemy shouldn't be alerted that we suspect anything. Sweetheart, be honest—if Lissa and Kiarra can't stop these deaths, we can't, either. The most we might do is weep at their passing."
"But these are lives," I found myself weeping anyway. "Lives that deserve to be lived. Who could do this?"
"Someone powerful, perhaps?" Edward's hazel eyes locked with mine and reflected my concern.
"There are seven levels of gods between us and the Three, including the Koh'Ahmari," I said, brushing tears away. "Any of those could be behind this, and we might not have enough power to fight them."
"Do you think we might be powerful enough, if we stood together?" Edward attempted to mask his growing concern.
"Not without the Three with us," I said. "And that may be what they're hoping for—to draw one of them out so they can play their trump card. If we lose one of the Three, we've lost everything."
"This is worse than I thought," Edward raked fingers through his hair. "No wonder Ashe stays hidden behind SouthStar's boundary, and only comes out when he must. Everything he does is covert and his tracks are carefully covered. I know he's directed Lissa many times, to accomplish what he wants. She's powerful, but perhaps not powerful enough to draw the enemy's full attention."
"I hope it's the same with the others," I agreed.
* * *
Breanne's Journal
They call this world Le-Ath Veronis. It means Heart of the Vampire. Did I really believe in vampires? Not until now. They're everywhere, here. No, they're not the bloodsucking fiends portrayed in horror films. Most of them are better than that. A few of them might be worse. How did I end up here? I'll save that story for later, because those around me weren't aware of it for a while. I thought they knew—they didn't. Still, that doesn't excuse their behavior—at least in my opinion.
I'll start with the day I was dumped on Le-Ath Veronis. No instruction was given as I was abandoned here—I was only told that I'd understand the language. That's it. I already understood every language I'd ever heard but somehow, my kidnapper didn't realize that. As for everything else, if it weren't for the curse I bore, I'd never have figured it out and who knows where that might have left me?
All the Queen's mates were absent as I was dropped off in her suite of offices. Her personal assistants were on holiday, which left only a skeleton crew running the palace and me under the (sketchy) direction of one Rathik Erwen, vampire.
A temporary employee was Rathik Erwen, hired at the last moment after one brief interview. I can't help but believe no background check was performed as well—I could see how oily he was when I first met him. Barely five-seven in stacked-heel shoes, Erwin believed himself more important than he was and informed me from the moment I was left in the Queen's office that he was running things and I was expected to take care of the work piling up.
Work. That's why I'd been snatched away from my life elsewhere and dumped on Le-Ath Veronis by a being so powerful he could bend time and fold space? It wasn't even important work. Paperwork was what it was, except it was all digital—files and files of it, on what the locals called a comp-vid. The comp-vid was a smaller version of an Earth tablet, but so much more advanced. You never had to worry about Wi-Fi connections or anything such as that—the range of the comp-vid spanned star systems.
Regardless, I will attempt to recreate my first days on Le-Ath Veronis, and what happened afterward as well as I can. History can judge me past that.
* * *
"I don't have time to show you how to do this," Rathik snapped, his black eyes boring a hole through me as he slammed the comp-vid on the desk where I'd been left. "It's so simple a child could do it. Answer the messages and respond to the requests. Tha
t's it. No questions, I'm expected elsewhere." With that, Rathik, dressed in the latest Reth Alliance fashion, took himself out of the Queen's office in a blink, moving with vampiric speed.
That was the first time I witnessed the blinding speed with which a vampire could move. Yes, I was at a loss to explain why I'd been brought who knows how many light-years away from my Earthly existence, just to answer letters addressed to a Queen I hadn't met and respond to the many requests sent by the comesuli who populated Le-Ath Veronis, all of whom she apparently adored.
Did I say it was always dark on the portion of Le-Ath Veronis where I'd been abandoned? It is. Dark when I rise of a morning, dark when I retire at night. And were it not for my curse, I would never have known how to answer the letters or respond to the many requests.
Fan mail. Tons of it, received standard replies, with a few personalized touches. Requests from the comesuli for books, supplies, new comp-vids for students, farm equipment, waders to go into ditches to unclog drains, uniforms for small volunteer fire departments on the light side of the planet—the lists were endless.
My curse let me know which requests were worthy of funding and which were not. A fund was set up in the Queen's name and I transferred money, accompanied by messages that the Queen was happy to provide assistance.
Rathik only showed up sporadically after that first day. I knew I was doing his work and mine, but what could I do? I'd been threatened during my abduction and was too afraid to rebel. Meals became a problem as well, since I am vegetarian and Rathik had instructed the kitchen to serve only standard fare (and not much of it).
Meat was served to the resident comesuli, and the few vampire guards left in the palace didn't consume anything other than blood substitute. Unless it was a drinking day for the vampire in question, that is, and their willing comesula showed up for the bite. Yes—the mere thought of it makes me cringe. I might have gotten along, even with the few vegetables I was served in the kitchen and the extremely long work hours, until I was arrested for a crime I didn't commit.
Chapter 2
I blinked stupidly at the two vampires sent to arrest me, while what am I being accused of? chased itself through my brain with terrifying regularity. They didn't know either—they'd just been sent to grab me. Dressed in the black and silver of palace security, the vampires slapped a metal cuff on each wrist and hauled me away from my small office. The Queen had a dungeon, I learned, and I was introduced to it quickly, still with no explanation as to what my supposed crime might be.
It was dimly lit, that dungeon, made of stone walls so thick it would take a vampire days to tunnel through it. Mostly it consisted of small cells lined up, one after the other, with titanium bars and electronic locks to keep criminals inside. At least it was clean, with no dripping water or rats squeaking in the walls. Then he came.
He wasn't vampire. My curse told me that. A history of violence. My curse also told me that. Skel Hawer was a compact, snarling beast of a man, filled with enough anger to fuel Le-Ath Veronis' space station for a week. "You killed her," he accused and punched me in the face, knocking me out with his first, cruel blow. I can't describe my beating at his hands—I was unconscious during most of it. What I do remember is the agonizing pain during waking moments afterward—three days of it, which woke old memories and stirred feverish dreams. Then another came, bringing a worse nightmare with him.
* * *
"Skel, I understand you were upset. The woman you loved had just been killed and Ms. Hayworth's credit chip was used to pay for the room." Norian Keef offered Skel Hawer a hard stare. "You should have done your homework. Sheriff Trevor had this sorted out in less than two hours—after he learned what you'd already done. If you'd bothered to look at the vids recording traffic in and out of that room, you'd have known it was Rathik Erwin and not Breanne Hayworth going inside to kill Erithia Cordan."
Norian didn't add that the murder had been so vicious Breanne Hayworth couldn't have accomplished it—she was in her late fifties, frail, in poor health and aging swiftly, whereas Erithia was strong and in her prime.
"I understand, sir." Skel's head was bowed, preventing Norian from seeing his expression.
"Not only did you arrest the wrong person, you allowed the killer to escape as a result of your poor judgment. If Breanne hadn't accepted vampirism when Gavin turned her, you'd be facing murder charges."
"I understand, sir."
"As it is," Norian sighed, "I'm demoting you." Skel's head jerked up in surprise. "Yes, you should be sitting in the dungeon where you beat that woman senseless, but I'm considering your frame of mind at the time. I've had your records altered—you'll be working for the ASD under a different name from now on. I don't want this following me, Hawer. Do you understand?"
"I understand, sir."
"Good. Kooper has the information. Go see him, now. Your next assignment is on Wyyld. You'll be transported there tonight."
"Yes, sir." Skel Hawer turned smartly and walked out of Norian's office.
Norian sighed and shook his head. He'd gotten good service from Skel in the past. Drake and Drew wanted Hawer brought up on charges for beating the woman and then leaving her in the Queen's dungeon for three days without medical care, but Norian pointed out that the woman hadn't been properly registered as an Alliance citizen. Drake argued that he and some of the others had been away on assignment and hadn't had the opportunity. Norian cut them off, claiming he had other business.
* * *
Breanne's Journal
Eleven days. Eleven days it took, for me to become vampire. The beating had revived old nightmares and I only wished to die. I'd shaken my head and muttered no through lips so bloodied and swollen it was difficult to say the word. He'd asked me if I wanted to live. I said no. He asked me if I wanted to be strong and live forever. I said no again, with difficulty. "Wrong answer," he whispered and cut into my wrists.
I'd been fleetingly surprised that any blood remained in my body. As it was, I became sleepy as my blood drained away; then he'd forced me to drink from him. When I refused his commands at first, my throat was stroked and I swallowed unwillingly. Someone else was in the room with us, counting time. After what seemed an interminable period, the other man asked him to stop giving me blood. That's when the darkness came.
* * *
After waking with a start, I shook and trembled as I gazed upon my sire for the first time. My eyes had swollen shut from my beating before, and I hadn't been able to see him. I saw him now. Dark hair, cut very short, dark eyes, straight nose, strong chin. Handsome enough, but I could see through that. My curse assured it—every time.
He'd killed many times throughout his life. Most of it was deserved. A few deaths were at another's command and perhaps not so deserving. My first glimpse of the Queen of Le-Ath Veronis was seen in his eyes. She was lovely, no question about it. She was also absent, and he had no idea where she was or when she'd return. That made him angry. In fact, many things made my sire angry, and one of those things, unfortunately, was me.
"Drink," was his first command and a bottle of blood substitute was shoved into my trembling hands. I stared in confusion as he gave the order. Gavin Montegue was my vampire sire's name, and he frowned deeply at my hesitation.
He hadn't introduced himself, but that didn't matter. I knew who he was, through my curse. I also knew that Gavin Montegue wasn't his given name. He was Roman by birth, had no idea who I was and had no care for me. He should have let me die (and he would have), but someone—a voiceless, nameless someone, had instructed him to make me vampire, no matter the cost. Therefore, I was now vampire.
I wasn't stupid—I'd learned that humanoid females seldom survived the turn to vampire. The comesuli, however, turned regularly and roughly half of them would become female after the turn. Humanoid women usually didn't live through the attempt. Perhaps one in twenty-five thousand attempts might make it. I'd done plenty of reading after I was so callously deposited on Le-Ath Veronis, and what my curse didn't tell
me, my curiosity did.
Turning my gaze away from Gavin Montegue—I'd seen all of him I wanted to see—I slowly drank the blood substitute he'd given me. Knowing it wasn't real blood made it easier for me to swallow, but I really didn't want to consume it.
Yes, Gavin should have reassured me. He didn't. He should have begun teaching me that first day. He didn't. Instead, he took the empty bottle away after I'd finished my first vampire meal, pressed a comp-vid in my hands, told me to read through the vampire laws and said he'd answer questions later. "You'll continue your assigned work," he added as he walked away. Then he vanished, leaving me inside the bedroom I'd been given after my arrival eight weeks earlier.
"Hello." I greeted my likeness in the mirror. The face that stared back was an unfamiliar one. Perhaps it was how I should have looked when I was young, but fate had not been kind to my face or my body. Thankfully, too, the arthritis and other difficulties had vanished with the turn, and for the first time in more than forty years, I wasn't in pain.
A bath was in order as soon as Gavin left me, and I blinked again at my altered appearance in the glass over my tiny dressing table. Early twenties—vampires usually appeared to be in their twenties. My hair had always been my best feature, but it had gone very gray over the years. Now it was dark auburn, shoulder-length and curled frantically about my face. I also had clear skin and delicate features.
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