Deathstalker (18 page)

The Demon covered him with the energy gun, though it was all he could do to keep it steady. There was a wildness in his eyes that Valentine didn’t like at all. And yet it occurred to him that the Demon had had plenty of time to shoot him, if that was what he intended. And if he’d had an energy gun all along, why hadn’t he used it during the fight? And then, as Valentine watched, the Demon slowly turned the energy gun on himself, his face full of surprise and horror, pressed the barrel against his forehead and depressed the stud. His head exploded in a splatter of blood and brains that
rained down all over the shop. Valentine cursed mildly. The Demon had obviously been programmed by his patrons not to reveal any secrets. And that was interesting. It suggested that not only did the patrons have access to a mind tech, but that the Demons knew things that their patrons couldn’t afford to have revealed. Valentine smiled slowly as he wiped the fresh blood from his face with a scented handkerchief. He’d already worked out who the patrons were. Who they had to be.

He made his way to the living quarters at the back of the shop in search of a cloak he could use to cover his bloodstained clothes. He’d have to replace them before he rejoined his Family. Wouldn’t do to have them asking question, and besides, he hated to be seen not looking his best. He had an image to maintain. He glance back at the dead bodies littering the floor. Poor Georgios.

Ah, dear brother, dear sister … what am I going to do with you?

Daniel and Stephanie Wolfe, brother and sister to Valentine, waited impatiently for news in the Family’s private box at the edge of the Arena. It was a fair-sized box, as boxes went, complete with every luxury that money and position could command. The sands lay a mere ten feet below, so that the occupants of the box could enjoy the various life-and-death struggles at close range, and it came equipped with its own private force screen, just in case things looked like they were getting a little too close.

Stephanie stalked back and forth in the narrow confines of the box, her arms folded tightly across her chest, while Daniel stood at parade rest, scowling out across the empty Arena. People had begun to arrive and were filing slowly into the ranks of tiered seating, but it was early yet. No one who was anyone would dream of arriving this much in advance. Under normal circumstances, the two Wolfes wouldn’t have been there, either, but they needed to be alone when the information they were waiting for finally came. In particular, they wanted to be sure they got the news before their father did.

Daniel was the youngest Wolfe, only just out of his teens. He had the hulking frame of his father, but as yet neither the muscle nor the presence to carry it off. He was clumsy as a child, until his father beat it out of him, with the result that
even now he kept his movements to a minimum and saw those through with exaggerated grace and care. The stutter took longer to disappear. His hair was a long mane of shining bronze strands with silver highlights, the latest fashion, but he wore the formal robes his father had insisted on for a public Family appearance. They were dark, dull and severely cut, and didn’t suit him at all. Daniel often wished he had the nerve to defy his father as Valentine did, but then Daniel often wished for things he didn’t have, which was what kept getting him into trouble.

That, and his sister.

Stephanie Wolfe, the middle child, took after her late mother, being tall and gangling with long hair that always looked ratty, no matter what she did with it. Her long frame was full of suppressed energy, constantly in danger of bursting out at the most inopportune moments. She was twenty-four years old, good-looking in a bland sort of way, no matter what she did with cosmetics, and boyishly slim in an age when voluptuousness was always in fashion. Stephanie had been through a great many body shops in her time, searching for a more acceptable look, but in the end her natural stubbornness kicked in, and she settled for her true face and shape. The aristocracy set trends, not followed them. No one ever commented on her decision or her appearance. Firstly, she was a Wolfe, and secondly, Daniel was devoted to her and ever ready to fight a duel over some perceived insult to his sister’s beauty.

Daniel and Stephanie Wolfe. Brother and sister, bound together by love and viewpoint and named ambition. Rich, young and aristocratic, they should have had the world at their feet, but the world wasn’t that simple. As younger siblings, they stood to inherit little or nothing as long as Valentine lived. So, being pragmatic and determined and children of their time, not to mention Wolfes to the core, they schemed and plotted and occasionally arranged little accidents for Valentine. They would have liked to order his death, but they weren’t that stupid. In the event of Valentine meeting a violent or suspicious death, the first thing the Imperial Court would do would be to order them both to be examined by an esper. Guilt would mean immediate execution, despite their rank and station. And if they tried and failed, and word got out, they’d be laughingstocks, humiliated before all the Families. So they settled for accidents, apparently
random occurrences that would hopefully hurt and maim, and at the very least make him look incompetent. If Valentine could be proved unfit to inherit, he might be put aside in favor of Daniel or Stephanie. Of course, if any of these accidents were to be traced back to them, there’d be hell to pay, not least from their father, but if truth be told, the risk was half the fun. After all, there was no point in gambling if you could afford to lose. Daniel and Stephanie needed the thrill almost as much as they needed their brother’s downfall.

Even if they didn’t handle the pressure very well. Stephanie stopped herself pacing back and forth with an effort, and threw herself into one of the extremely comfortable chairs set out by the guards earlier before they retreated to a discreet distance. Apart from making sure they were out of earshot, Daniel and Stephanie ignored them. There were always guards, no matter where they went. It was part of being an aristocrat. Daniel looked back at his sister and smiled slightly.

“About time. You’ve practically worn a groove in that carpet, pacing up and down. We wouldn’t want dear Papa to get the idea we’ve anything to feel nervous about, would we?”

Suzanne smiled at him sweetly. “Forget the sarcasm, Danny; you’ve never had the gift for it. It requires wit and a lightness of touch, among other things, all equally beyond your grasp. Father will be here soon, hopefully bearing news of our dear brother’s unfortunate mishap. When he tells us, do try not to overreact. We’re bound to be suspected, but there’s no point in providing our enemies with ammunition. Forget trying to look surprised, just look dazed and leave all the talking to me.”

“Of course, Steph. Don’t I always? There’s always the chance Valentine is dead. If things got out of hand …”

“I don’t see how. We planned for every contingency. As long as those thugs followed their instructions. No, if he was dead, we’d have heard by now. Father would have burst in with the news, or the guards, or a servant, or somebody! You couldn’t keep news like that quiet.”

“Keep your voice down, Steph. Of course, you’re right. Dear Valentine is currently lying in the filth of a back alley, one big mess of broken bones.”

“Yes. You’re right.” Stephanie took a deep breath and slowly let it out again. “You did fix the gun, didn’t you?”

“Of course. All identifying marks were removed. There’s no way it can be traced to us.”

“The gun still worries me. It’s a clear sign the street gang wasn’t working on its own.”

“We had to be sure none of the gang would survive to answer questions. The gun and the subliminal conditioning will take care of that.”

Stephanie relaxed a little in her chair. “Valentine won’t even know what hit him. The medics will fix him up fast enough, but the attack will cast severe doubts on his competence. A few more such incidents, and he’ll be a laughingstock. And then, finally, we’ll find a way to dispose of poor accident-prone Valentine, and nothing will stand between us and control of Clan Wolfe.”

“Unless Constance has a child.”

“Ah yes. Dear stepmother. If she was to have a child, dear Papa might well disinherit us in favor of the newcomer. So it’s just as well I bribed our Family food-taster not to notice the contraceptives I’ve been lacing her food with. She could no more carry a child now than Father could.”

Daniel glared at her.

“And what if he gets an attack of the scruples and betrays us?”

“He won’t. He can’t betray us now without incriminating himself. He should have gone to Father the moment he suspected anything was wrong. But the money I offered was just too tempting. Besides, we still have some insurance. The drug I’ve been slipping into his food is extremely addictive, and I’m his only source.” She laughed softly. “He checked everyone’s food but his own. Stop worrying, Danny. I’ve thought of everything.”

Daniel looked at her affectionately. “You always did have a delightfully devious mind. We’ll have such fun ruling the Family.”

Stephanie smiled dazzlingly. “With my brain and your brawn, we can do anything, Danny. Anything at all.”

And then they both fell silent as they heard approaching footsteps and the guards crashing to attention. Daniel and Stephanie just had time to get to their feet and look casual, and then Jacob Wolfe came crashing into the box, followed by their new stepmother. Jacob was clearly in a foul mood,
his heavy brows furrowed in a scowl, and his two children had enough sense to bow politely and say nothing. The Wolfe was flaming mad about something, and they didn’t want his anger aimed their way. Daniel bowed to his stepmother. Stephanie barely nodded. Constance Wolfe smiled at them both.

Constance was seventeen years old and already a breathtaking beauty on a world noted for its beautiful women. Tall and blond and perfectly proportioned, she seemed to glow with health and good cheer and raw sexuality. Just to look at her was enough to send a man’s hormones into overdrive. Jacob had won her for his new wife by the simple expedient of intimidating most of her other suitors and killing the rest in duels. Jacob was a great believer in tradition. Constance seemed happy enough with the arrangement, which made her one of the most important women on Golgotha, and had settled in well to the running of Clan Wolfe and her husband. The Wolfe’s three children had looked on with varying levels of concern as her word became law and her whim became increasingly wide-ranging. Jacob knew what was going on, but said nothing. It was up to his wife and his children to sort out their own pecking order. As long as they were polite in company and didn’t squabble in his presence, he didn’t give a damn.

He spun around suddenly, catching all three by surprise, and fixed them with his glare. “The SummerIsle died in court today. Cut down in a duel by Kid Death. His own damn grandson. There’s no pride in Family anymore.”

Daniel smiled tightly. “Youth must have its day, Father. The old must give way to the new. That’s the way of things.”

The Wolfe glared at him contemptuously. “You ever raise a hand to me, boy, and I’ll cut it off at the wrist. Or perhaps you think you’re ready to run this Family?”

“Of course not, Father. Not yet.”

“Not ever, unless you buck your ideas up. But I’ll make a man of you yet, boy, despite all your sister can do to prevent it.”

“That’s not fair,” said Stephanie, moving protectively closer to Daniel. “Someone has to look out for him.”

“He’s a Wolfe; he’s supposed to be able to look out for himself!” snapped Jacob. “That’s what being a man is all about. I won’t always be here to wipe his nose for him.”

“Now stop that,” said Constance, pouting prettily as she dropped a restraining hand on his arm. “You’re good for another century at least, and I won’t have you saying otherwise. Besides, it’s far too nice a day to spoil it with a quarrel. We’re supposed to be here for a Family meeting before the Games begin; can’t we make a start?”

“Not without Valentine,” said the Wolfe. “I seriously doubt he’ll have anything serious to contribute, apart from the address of his latest chemist, but he is my eldest and has a right to be present. Even if he is late. Again.”

“Yes,” said Daniel. “I wonder what’s keeping him?”

Stephanie tensed, but for once Daniel had enough sense not to share a confidential smirk with her. Instead, he was looking thoughtfully at their father, and Stephanie felt like joining him. Jacob Wolfe only retired to his private box at the Arena for Family meetings when he wanted to discuss something really delicate. The box’s combination of indoors and outdoors made it difficult for anyone to bug, and the esp-blocker concealed in the structure of the box kept out any psionic eavesdroppers. Jacob believed in being thorough.

Stephanie looked away from her father and searched for something to distract her. Out across the Arena, the giant holoscreen was showing close-ups and slow motion replays of the fighting in the Arena. The holoscreen was there for the benefit of the connoisseur, and those right at the back, so that no detail of the blood and butchery need be missed. Stephanie smiled broadly, enjoying the show. Nothing like a little life-and-death drama to get the blood moving. There were those, in and out of the Families, who campaigned regularly for the Arena to be shut down, or at least toned down, but they never got anywhere. The Games were incredibly popular throughout the Empire, drawing huge audiences wherever there was a holoscreen to be found. Try and stop the show, and the people might well rebel.

And then Stephanie stiffened as she heard footsteps approaching the box. Her heart jumped, and she breathed deeply to keep a betraying flush from her cheeks. The messenger was finally here with news of Valentine. She turned slowly, savoring the moment, and found herself face-to-face with Valentine, coolly entering the private box as though it was just another day and all was well with the world. For a moment she thought she might faint, but a quick glance at
Daniel, all slack-jawed and bulging eyes, brought her back. She had to be cool, had to be ice-cold. She had to be strong for both of them until she could discover just how much trouble they were both in. She made herself bow casually to Valentine, and he nodded politely in return.