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.
I might be considered beautiful by some, except for my eyes. Those had never changed. Hadn't since my birth. My eyes had always been a deep, cobalt blue with barely a visible pupil, and they told me many things, most of which I had absolutely no desire to know.
"They're just too awful," one of my foster mothers claimed as she handed me back to the social worker when I was seven. She'd shuddered, too, making me feel small and ugly as the social worker took my hand and led me from the house. She'd been talking about my eyes, and her reaction wasn't the worst I'd experienced through the years.
I'd always been thin, so my clothing still fit. Except it wasn't my clothing. A few things had been culled from the Queen's closet and lent to me—things that didn't cost so much or had gone out of style. That's what I wore now as I did as my vampire sire instructed, walking down the marble hall toward the small office I'd been assigned. No, his compulsion didn't work, and that was out of the ordinary. Vampires, even King or Queen Vampires, were generally susceptible to their sire's compulsion. Only a few very rare ones weren't, and most of those were destroyed immediately, according to the records I'd read.
Those records came from many worlds, and they'd been written by many vampires at the direction of many Vampire Councils. Unmanageable vampires were often killed. Vampire children who disobeyed their vampire sires were harshly punished at the least, destroyed at the worst. As I had no desire to die on my first, pain-free day as a vampire, I went to my office to tend to assigned duties.
* * *
"You're the new one." I stared at the vampire standing inside my office. He hadn't been there before, and my curse informed me he was one of the Queen's assistants who'd been away on vacation when I arrived.
"I suppose I am." I lowered my eyes. I'd seen what he was with only a quick glance. No, he wasn't awful—he was a bit timid. He was also terrified of my sire—just as I was.
"I'm Grant. Heathe is out hunting Rigo down for a few signatures on paperwork."
"It's nice to meet you, Grant." I nodded briefly before sitting down at my desk. I'd almost gotten everything caught up before my arrest and subsequent beating. That had been fourteen days earlier. I'd lain in the dungeons, barely alive and in terrible pain for three days before Gavin came. Nobody thought to provide medical care or any comfort.
"I'm glad they cleared you of the charges, but Rathik got away."
"Yeah." I knew Rathik had gotten away—that's the other thing I'd seen in Grant's eyes—guilt. He'd hired Rathik after a hasty interview. I also saw what I hadn't known before in Grant's expression; I was supposed to have been paid. Rathik had stolen my salary and my credit chip. The credit chip had gotten me arrested for a murder I hadn't committed—Rathik scanned it to get inside a hotel to do the deed.
In fact, I hadn't left the palace the entire time I'd been a resident of Le-Ath Veronis. All I could think was that Skel Hawer was a piss-poor excuse for an ASD agent, and he'd almost killed me with his fists. I didn't know what happened to Skel Hawer, but I intended to find out. Eventually.
"Well, I'll just get to work, then," I nodded at Grant. Whatever I might have been paid before, there would be no paycheck now. Young vampires weren't allowed to earn money until their five-year training period was over. Before that, they were dependent upon a sire for their needs. After seeing Gavin's face when I woke as his vampire child, I wasn't expecting anything from him.
* * *
"Trev, he let him go." Kooper Griff shook his head.
"Norian let that murderous bastard get away with this?" Trevor schooled his face—his sire, now long-dead, would be ashamed of how much emotion Trevor had shown of late.
"Not only let him go, but allowed him to keep his job. He was demoted—one placement—and his name was changed so the media won't follow him around. He should be in jail." Kooper snorted.
"He should be charged with attempted murder," Trevor, vampire Sheriff for Casino City, growled in response. "How's the woman?"
"Made the turn, according to my sources at the palace."
"Then it's a miracle," Trevor sighed. "She should be dead after the beating Hawer handed out. The prick left her there for three days, hoping she'd go ahead and die, no doubt. I've spoken with Drake and Drew, but they're army and not palace guard. Those vampires who knew about this should have stopped it. I think I'll have a word with Flavio."
"Her new sire should be weighing in on this. He is over the palace guard."
"Gavin?" Trevor stared at Kooper in disbelief.
"Yes. That's the name I heard." Kooper sipped a hot drink from a recyclable cup he'd brought with him. He'd come to Trevor's office in Casino City—Trevor asked to be updated after handing information to Kooper. Kooper was off-planet on assignment when Hawer, who'd been left in charge of the local ASD office, abused his authority and exacted vengeance against an innocent woman.
Trevor cursed softly before asking his next question. "What happened to the real culprit? I haven't gotten anything since he disappeared from Erithia Cordan's casino."
"Probably light-years from here by now, under an assumed name," Kooper huffed. "Hawer let him get away while he was busy beating a helpless woman."
"Are you going to the palace soon? I'd like to know how she's doing."
"I'll probably go soon. I'll let you know."
"I'd appreciate it. Gavin isn't the easiest person to deal with, and I have no idea why he decided to turn someone now instead of asking one of the experienced vampires to take it."
"I'm worried he did it just to keep his palace guards out of hot water. No offense," Kooper held up a hand as Trevor started to protest, "but I know enough about compulsion to realize she can be ordered to keep her mouth shut."
"I hope you're wrong," Trevor muttered.
"I'll let you know about the woman." Kooper stood and stretched his tall frame. "Thanks for your help with this. If you hadn't notified us, we'd be looking at two murders instead of one."
"Yes," Trevor nodded. "I know."
* * *
Breanne's Journal
"Breanne, why did you refuse this request?" Grant was back and tapping a finger against his comp-vid. One of the small comesuli councils had requested funds for a new water cooler for their meeting chamber.