Blood Double (God Wars #1)(2)
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. That'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."