Daysider (Nightsiders) (11 page)

She sank onto her haunches and ran her fingers through the dirt, blinking away the tears that had come without warning or purpose. Michael was dead. What happened to his body didn’t matter, not to
him.
But the hideous image in Alexia’s mind made her bend over with the dry heaves. She fought the nausea and got to her feet.

Damn
Damon for not letting her bury Michael. Her partner would have been safe if he’d had the decency to allow a brave man a little dignity.

But anger wouldn’t help her, or Michael. Maybe she could find something he had carried—some token to return to his kin in San Francisco. She knew he had an uncle, a cousin, people who would want something to remember him by.

And maybe there would be enough of him left to bury.

Clearing her mind of all distracting thoughts and emotions, Alexia searched for a trail. She found one among the dense thickets of scrub oak to the north. It smelled like Michael and traces of blood, and another stench that made her choke on her own breath—the same smell that had left its traces where Michael had died.

Orlok.

Alexia forged ahead, though her stomach cramped with horror.
Surely there must be some trace,
she thought.
That thing couldn’t have—

A glitter of metal caught the late-afternoon light, and Alexia moved under cover to search for the source. Nothing else moved, so she advanced slowly to the tree limb where the metal hung suspended from a cord or strip of something she couldn’t quite make out.

It was leather. The metal was a buckle. Michael’s buckle, the one he had bought on impulse at a street fair, back when he had seemed so lighthearted and carefree. The buckle had been cast in the shape of a grotesque parody of a Nightsider, more devil than leech, with a long, narrow face, slitted red crystal eyes, and protruding fangs.

Alexia pulled the belt from the branch and clenched the buckle in her fist. The edges bit into her palm. Dry-eyed, she tucked the belt into her pack and kept going.

She found bits of her partner’s clothes as she went on, boots here, shirt there, the small pieces of gear he had carried close to his body. The stench of Orlok grew stronger, yet she saw nothing of the creature or Michael’s remains.

Still she went on, tireless, grim with purpose. It was just past sunset before she began to sense that someone was following her.

She turned, carefully unslung her rifle and lifted it to her shoulder. But when her pursuer came into view, she nearly forgot the weapon was in her hands.

The thing was neither human nor Nightsider. It was lean and nearly hairless, bulging with muscle and tendon beneath pale skin, its face nearly as long as the creature on Michael’s buckle. One of its long-nailed hands was pressed to its chest, the other curled into a fist at its side. It opened its mouth, and she glimpsed rows of serrated yellow teeth.

Then she met its eyes, and she saw something she recognized.

No.
Alexia swallowed and backed away, the rifle pointed toward the ground. There were two kinds of dhampires: those who needed the patch and those who didn’t. The ones who didn’t could be converted by a vampire’s bite. That was why Aegis always sent out teams consisting of both subtypes, so that one would survive in almost any situation.

Michael was of the second type. He hadn’t been bitten by a Nightsider. An Orlok had attacked him, supposedly killed him. But he hadn’t died, despite his terrible wounds. He had changed...into one of
them.

Aegis had never been sure of the Orloks’ nature or origins; it was believed they were directly connected to Erebus and Nightsiders because they were, essentially, creatures of night that lived on blood—thus the name “Orlok,” taken from the old tale of the grotesque vampire Nosferatu.

That was exactly what this creature—this man—appeared to be.

“Michael,” she whispered.

The thing who had once been her partner swung its head from side to side, advancing on her slowly. She continued to retreat, unwilling to shoot even to wound.

But the Orlok didn’t attack. It—
he
—stopped several meters away, still swaying, and opened its mouth. Sounds came out, sounds almost like words.

He was trying to talk.

Alexia’s heart wedged in her throat. “Michael,” she breathed. “Do you know who I am?”

His head bent ever so slightly. A nod. A moan of pain and sorrow. He moved closer, a purpose in his eyes she couldn’t mistake.

“You don’t want to hurt me, Michael,” she said, speaking low and steadily as if she were quieting a cornered animal. “We were...
are
friends. We’ve risked our lives for each other.” She lowered her rifle farther and held out one hand. “I want to help you.”

The creature’s mouth twisted in something like the old grin. He continued to advance, and Alexia braced herself. If it came down to killing or being killed, she knew which one she had to choose.

But Michael stopped again, just within reach, and lifted his fisted hand. He opened his long, distorted fingers and showed her what he held within them.

At first she didn’t know what it was. The device was about the size of a large earpiece, but almost featureless. When Michael held it closer to her face, she recognized the tiny mic.

A communicator, but nothing like the one she carried, or like any she’d seen before.

Was it some new model Aegis had devised? And why had her partner been carrying it? Electronics seldom functioned well in the Zone, and she’d known nothing about it.

With a grunt, Michael seized her wrist with his free hand and dropped the device into her palm. His touch sent shudders of revulsion through her body, but she didn’t break away, and after a moment Michael retreated. He gestured at the communicator, his mouth working.

Coming.

Alexia jerked. Michael hadn’t spoken. The word had appeared inside her head. She stared at his contorted face, wondering if she were beginning to hallucinate.

Signal,
the voice in her mind said.
Attack.

Pressing the heel of her palm to her temple, Alexia tried to force the voice out through sheer strength of will. But Michael—what had been Michael—was still there, half civilized, half savage. And sinking quickly.

Warn,
the voice said.
War.

Warn whom, about what? What signal, and what attack? Was he asking her to send a signal to Aegis with this device? Was he telling her that war was coming?

There was no way to know, because all at once the voice went silent, and Michael shuddered again. It almost seemed to Alexia that his body was changing before her eyes, bending, writhing, slowly losing the last vestiges of humanity. She tried to approach him, but he backed away, shaking his head from side to side like a dog with a burr in its ear. Then, without warning, he loped off into the night-shrouded wood.

Alexia pushed the communicator inside her jacket and ran after him. She knew in her heart she couldn’t save him, but she couldn’t let him go down alone.

She was so intent on finding him that she nearly tripped over the man on the ground before she realized he was there.

Damon,
she thought, wild with fear.

But it wasn’t Damon, nor Michael. Her nostrils filled with the scent of Nightsider, and she stumbled back, pulling her rifle from her shoulder.

The Nightsider moved slightly, his pale, unbound hair fanned across the ground, his ascetic face drawn in pain. He didn’t seem to be armed, and he was clearly injured; she knew Michael might have attacked him, but there were only a few tiny spots of blood on his clothing.

Then she recognized what was wrong with him. He had been in the sun. Blisters disfigured what would have been handsome features, and his once-dark eyes were milky with cataracts.

“Get up,” she said, gesturing with the rifle.

The Nightsider’s blind eyes turned toward her. “I am...not your enemy,” he rasped.

Of course not. And he hadn’t been roasted alive.

Alexia glanced past him in the direction Michael had gone. She could either continue to follow him or deal with the Nightsider. The vampire at her feet might easily have been among those who had shot at her and Damon, the one Michael had been tracking, or both. He was dangerous, even in his weakened state, and leaving him here could lead to serious consequences later.

“Where did you come from?” she demanded.

The Nightsider lay very still, well aware of what she would do if he tried to rise. “I am not what you think,” he said, his voice a mere thread of sound. “I want what
you
want.”

“Where are you from?” she repeated, lowering the rifle’s muzzle to poke at his chest. “The colony? Are you one of the ones who have been trying to kill us?”

He blinked several times, as if even the emerging stars gave off too much light. “Where...is Damon?”

Alexia wouldn’t have believed it possible that her heart could beat any faster. “Why?” she asked sharply. “You aren’t going to be able to hurt him now.”

“The colony is not what we believed. I was to...report back, but I am dying. The others want to...” He took in a sharp breath. “They want to destroy it.”

“Destroy the colony?” she asked. “
Who
wants to destroy it?”

“Our enemies, of course,” someone said behind her.

Chapter 10

A
lexia swung around, bringing the rifle to bear on the new arrival. He grinned, a flash of bright teeth in a pale, handsome face. His hair was drawn back in the traditional Nightsider style, framing his features like a crown of snow and starlight.

“Put down your weapon,” he said. “I mean you no harm.”

“Don’t...trust him,” the first vampire warned. “It is
their
doing. Tell Damon...the colony, the drugs—”

He cried out as the blast hit him square in the chest, leaving a smoking hole where his heart had been. The second Nightsider holstered his weapon and shook his head.

“Traitors to the Council must be eliminated,” he said. He regarded Alexia with great interest. “Why are you alone, little Half-blood? The Zone is a dangerous place. Where
is
Damon?”

Alexia didn’t answer. She had been stunned by the sudden killing, but her thoughts were clearing rapidly. And once she could think again, she was extremely grateful that Damon wasn’t with her.

For whoever this leech was, he exuded a threat that utterly belied his words. It wasn’t just that he’d murdered the other vampire so callously. Nightsiders often killed each other; they were vicious, amoral creatures, predators without compassion, constantly maneuvering for rank and power.

But now two Nightsiders had appeared in the area very soon after someone had tried to kill her and Damon. That couldn’t be coincidence, and both of them obviously knew she and Damon were working together.

This vampire clearly meant to imply that he was with the Council, at least nominally on Damon’s side of the fence. Damon had admitted there were probably other Council agents in the area; maybe one of the two Nightsiders, the living or the dead, was working for the same faction he was.

But it wasn’t as if the leeches openly advertised their internal conflicts to their enemies.

And why would any Nightsider so blatantly slaughter one of his own kind right in front of an Aegis operative?

Alexia could think of only one good reason. And that was because he had to stop the “traitor” from telling her something he didn’t want her to hear.

She had to be very, very careful. Careful to show suspicion and mistrust, but not enough to seem as if she wanted to kill him.

“Who are you?” she asked the Nightsider coldly. “Why did you kill this man?”

He clasped his hands behind his back as if he meant to show just how harmless he was. “As I told you, he was a traitor.”

In spite of her resolve, Alexia’s fingers twitched on the trigger. “‘The colony is not what we believed,’” she recited. “‘They want to destroy it.’ What was he talking about?”

“You don’t know?” he asked, eyes narrowing. “Have you not been observing the colony?”

“It has been a little difficult with someone trying to kill us,” she said.

“Indeed?” the Nightsider said, lifting both brows as if he were genuinely surprised. “There are, unfortunately, many who would do anything to prevent cooperation between our peoples.”

As hard as he tried to express sincerity, the Nightsider couldn’t pull it off. She was dead certain he had already
known
someone had tried to kill them.

“We assumed it was the colonists who attacked us,” Alexia said. “They must have known we were watching.”

“They have protected themselves well enough so far,” the vampire said. “But then again, certain parties in Erebus would wish to prevent anyone from providing the Council with intelligence that might create obstacles to their plans.”

“What plans?” she asked, pretending ignorance. “Whose?”

The Nightsider glanced down at the body. “
He
meant to put you off your guard by confusing you, but there was much truth in his words. He merely twisted them around so that it seemed he was referring to others instead of himself.”

He met Alexia’s eyes again. “The colony is not, indeed, what any of us believed. This traitor
did
intend to report back to the Expansionists. We believed him to be one of our operatives, but in fact he was a double agent, as I recently discovered. I am certain he was hoping to persuade you to kill me when I caught up with him, and then eliminate you before returning to his true masters.”

“So he worked for the Expansionists,” Alexia said, continuing to play along, “and you work for the Council, like Damon.”

“Didn’t he tell you? The Council would hardly make the mistake of sending only one operative on such a crucial mission. And now that I know you have been attacked, the wisdom in that policy is apparent.”

“What did this man mean when he said ‘they’ wanted to destroy the colony? Why would the Expansionists turn against the settlement when extending the Citadel’s reach into the Zone is exactly what they’re after?”

The Nightsider sighed. “This traitor,” he said, “was about to tell you that the colonists, whom his masters secretly hoped to control, were determined to keep their independence and refuse to cooperate with any party in Erebus.”

His candidness caused Alexia an uncomfortable moment of doubt. Would he admit all this if he was with the faction most hostile to the Enclave?

He might if he planned to kill her after
he
made her think he was on her side. “Why would the colonists’ lack of cooperation be enough for the Expansionists to want the settlement eliminated?” she asked.

“They will brook no possible threat to their ambitions,” the Nightsider said. “They could create considerable trouble if they attacked the colony, and turn that trouble to their advantage. Of course, the Council would wish to prevent any action that might suggest bad faith in their dealings with Aegis.”

All very tidy, Alexia thought. But this Nightsider had said that his victim hadn’t yet made his report to the Expansionists. How could he,
or
the double agent, be so sure what the Expansionists intended to do
after
they received that report?

Because they already knew. The supposed “traitor” was going to tell the Council that an attack was coming.

Was that what Michael had been trying to tell her when he’d given her the strange communicator and spoken those few, ominous words?

Coming.
Signal.
Attack.
Warn.

War.

Instinct told her to run on the chance she might actually escape and get the message to Damon. But she knew she had to keep the vampire talking in case he carelessly revealed the nature of the Expansionists’ plans. And what the other vampire had meant about the “drugs.”

“That makes sense,” Alexia said belatedly, lowering the rifle. “But how did your double agent get caught in the sun?”

The Nightsider shrugged. “Once I learned what he was, I detained him. He escaped and was severely burned, but obviously not enough to prevent him from trying to provoke your sympathy and catch you off guard.”

Alexia kicked at the dirt with the toe of her boot. “Considering that Damon and I have been attacked several times by Nightsiders, why are you so sure I would have believed
he
was on our side?”

“Because both you and Damon have strong prejudices that would make you inclined to believe exactly what this one told you. The Expansionists want war, and they despise Daysiders more than any other faction in Erebus.”

“And that’s enough to make Damon discard his training and all common sense?”

“Perhaps you have observed that he is of a passionate nature, not unlike humans or your kind. He also has an inordinate amount of pride.”

“Like Opiri?” she asked.

The vampire ignored her mockery. “He is even more driven by irrational impulses than most of those you call Daysiders. That is the very reason he was sent to work with you. But it also makes him, shall we say, more apt to act according to emotion rather than intellect.”

“And to believe a man who tells him what he wants to hear. But you still haven’t told me what that is.”

He hesitated very convincingly and sighed. “The colony,” he said, “was founded by a Bloodmaster named Theron. Theron’s
philosophy
—” he nearly spat the word “—encouraged the concept of full equality among all citizens of Erebus, from Bloodmaster to the lowest vassal. It seems he has put this idea into practice.”

“And that’s the
real
reason the Expansionists want the settlement destroyed.”

“Perhaps,” he said.

She wasn’t going to push him. He’d given her a great deal more information than she’d expected to get already.

“That sounds like internal politics to me,” she said. “Once I get back to the Enclave, I’ll advise that we should continue to observe from a distance unless it becomes imperative that we interfere.”

“You ‘advise’ your superiors?” he asked mockingly.

“My opinion, as well as my partner’s, counts for something, yes,” she said. “In fact, I was on my way to rendezvous with my partner when I stumbled over this man.”

“I will gladly stand by to protect you until he arrives.”

Sure you will,
she thought. Now that it was down to the wire, she had very few choices about what to do next.

“I’ve been wondering,” she said idly, as if she were reluctant to end a pleasant conversation, “how do you think the Council will stop the Expansionists?”

“I am not privy to their decisions. In any case, you and your partner need no longer be involved.” He reached inside his sleek black jacket. “When I located Damon, I was to present him with his new assignment, which is to escort you back to the Border and return to Erebus for further instructions.”

His new assignment? This guy said he’d just found out about the double agent and had been chasing him, but he’d had time to return to Erebus and get new orders for Damon before Damon had reported back himself?

She frowned slightly and met the vampire’s gaze. “I think you’d better come back to camp and repeat all this to Damon,” she said. “You wouldn’t want him working in the dark.”

The Nightsider grimaced at her weak joke. “Of course,” he said, bowing like a courtier.

“It’s that way,” she said, pointing east.

He hung back with a knowing smile. “Please. A lady should always go first.”

“I didn’t know women had any special privileges in Erebus,” she said.

“I merely defer to your human customs,” the Nightsider said, pressing his hand to his heart as if he had wounded her. “We regarded males and females as equals long before your kind dreamed of giving your women the right to vote. Equals,” he said, showing his teeth, “in their freedom to compete for rank and power.”

“And you really think that we humans—”

She broke off, sensing Damon long before the Nightsider was aware of his approach. She didn’t know why her senses were so much keener than a full vampire’s, but she wasn’t about to question her unexpected advantage.

Unfortunately, Damon made no attempt to sneak up on them. As soon as he walked out from between two bigleaf maples with her VS in hand and saw the Nightsider, he began to run toward Alexia. He stopped between her and the vampire, his anxious gaze raking up and down her body. He glanced at the dead Nightsider and turned to face the living one, head slightly bent and shoulders tensed to repel attack.

The Nightsider didn’t move. “Damon,” he said.

“Lysander.” Damon’s voice was so utterly cold that Alexia could almost feel ice crystals form in the air between him and the vampire. “What are you doing here?”

Lysander looked at Damon’s ragged clothing, his bare chest under the dirty jacket and the shadow of a beard on his jaw with unconcealed contempt in his deep purple eyes. “The same thing you are,” he said.

“I doubt that very much.” Damon glanced again at the body. “Who is this Opir? What happened to him?”

“Lysander killed him,” Alexia said.

Damon’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t seem surprised. “Why?”

Alexia spoke before Lysander could answer. “He said the man was a traitor, a double agent working for both the Expansionists and Independents.”

Damon’s eyes narrowed. “But to
whom
was he a traitor?” he asked.

“The ruling faction, of course,” Lysander said, glaring at the Vampire Slayer. “Put that abomination down, Damon. You know such weapons are forbidden in the Zone.”

Damon set the VS on the ground, still within easy reach of both him and Alexia. “I never heard that you’d gone to work for the Council,” he said.

Lysander shrugged, a consummately human gesture. “You do not hear everything,” he said. “Or do you think you should be consulted in every matter that comes before the Council?”

“If it enables me to complete my mission, yes.” He stared into Lysander’s eyes. “You knew what I was sent to do?”

“Of course.”

“How long have you been out?”

“I left Erebus soon after you did,” the vampire said.

“Have you been in contact with the others?”

Shifting his weight ever so slightly, Lysander managed a sneer with a fractional twitch of his upper lip. “So many questions. I have not seen the others since I left with
him
—” Lysander gestured at the body “—and discovered he was working for the enemy. I was tracking him when this female—”

“Her
name
is Agent Fox,” Damon said sharply.

“
She
was nearly taken in by the traitor’s lies. I put an end to the conversation.” Lysander raked Alexia with another disdainful glance. “I was told you had been shot at.”

“You didn’t know?” Damon asked, nearly growling.

“It was not in my purview to watch over you,” Lysander retorted. “You should have been prepared to deal with any opposition.” He smiled with some secret satisfaction. “Or have you become so incompetent since Eirene died?”

Eirene.
Alexia flinched on Damon’s behalf and watched tensely for his reaction. But Damon didn’t move a muscle.

“You said you were with
him,
” Damon said, indicating the dead Nightsider. “Council agents work alone. Or are you an exception?”

“He was already under suspicion. I was to observe him until he made a mistake and revealed himself for what he was.”