Deathstalker Return (32 page)

“Yes,” said Corcoran. “I do. I see them. They walk among us and no one knows. Which is kind of spooky, if you think about it. But they don’t bother me so I don’t bother them. Do you know where you’re going?”

“There’s currently some debate about that,” said Joy. “We can’t stay here indefinitely, but we’re a long way from anywhere else.”

“You need to access hyperspace,” said Donal. “It’s easy. Look.”

He reached out to the oversoul and touched it with his altered thoughts. Both sides winced, but they held contact. Donal could see into many places now, and hyperspace was one of them. He showed the oversoul a direction to look in, that they had never suspected existed, and there was hyperspace waiting for them. Donal withdrew, hiding inside his own head again, leaving the oversoul with new possibilities and a massive collective headache.

“Go to Mistworld,” said Donal. “I did a lot of trade there, when I was still sane. They’re still rebels at heart, and they have defenses that could stand off whatever the Empire sends against them. They’ll take you in. They remember what it was like to be hunted. I was happy there. It seems such a long time ago.”

“Don’t be sad,” Joy said earnestly. “The universe isn’t as dark as it seems. The long night is full of stars, and the worlds are full of people. Who could have predicted that? We are not alone. There is comfort.”

“I don’t want it,” said Donal. “I only want revenge now. It’s all that’s been left to me.”

Crow Jane frowned. “You’ve had closer contact with the Terror than anyone else. Could it be some part of the Recreated, that was never made human again by the blessed Owen?”

“No,” Donal said immediately, shaking his head violently. “It’s bigger than that. It lives in more than three dimensions. Its spawn incubates in the hearts of suns. It eats souls. It wants to destroy the whole universe and everything in it. Unless I kill it first. I can see it. I can always see it, no matter what place it’s in. Part of me is there with it, and it suffers.”

“How can you hope to stop it?” said Crow Jane.

Donal smiled. “It pushed me into Hell. And now that I know the way, I’m going to grab the Terror and drag it down into damnation forever with me.”

“Hope you’ve got a backup plan,” said Joy.

Crow Jane hushed him. “Best of luck, Captain Corcoran. Perhaps we’ll meet again someday.”

“It doesn’t seem likely,” said Donal.

He broke contact, and the two vessels passed each other in the night, each going its separate way.

 

 

Treasure Mackenzie, that almost impossibly gorgeous star of the vid soap
The Quality,
was going to have dinner with her husband-to-be, King Douglas. He wasn’t expecting her. She contacted him on the viewscreen in his private chambers, using a private number she shouldn’t have known about, and invited him to join her at one of the most famous and fashionable restaurants in the city. The kind of place where you had to get on a waiting list just to bribe the maître d’. But of course people like Treasure never needed a reservation—as long as her ratings held up. Douglas explained to her, very politely, that the dinner date wasn’t possible. For reasons of security, Finn Durandal had decided that it wasn’t safe for the King to leave his palace. Except to go to the House, and then only when protected by Finn’s guards. Treasure pouted prettily, wrinkled her perfect brow, and then smiled brightly.
Not to worry,
she said.

And within half an hour she was knocking at the door to his private chambers, having brought dinner with her. When Douglas opened the door she barged right in, followed by half a dozen waiters from that very fashionable restaurant, pushing trolleys loaded down with everything necessary for a full scale banquet. There were main courses, side courses, in between courses, and a selection of snacks to keep them going while they decided which course to have next. Just the smell alone would have fed a family of six for a month. If anyone else had asked the restaurant to provide such a meal to go, they would have laughed in their face; but of course nothing was too much trouble for Treasure Mackenzie. She bustled about the room, directing the waiters on where to set things up, making sure everything was to her satisfaction before she signed the bill with a practiced flourish. She then signed autographs for all the waiters, kissed the youngest on the cheek just to see him blush, and then shooed them all out. The door shut behind them, and Douglas and Treasure looked at each other.

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I brought everything,” said Treasure.

“So I see.” Douglas considered her thoughtfully. “How did you get past the guards at my door? They usually have strict instructions not to let anyone in.”

Treasure smiled. “Pure charm, darling. And several deep breaths. Cleavage will get you places even security passes won’t. Shall we make a start?”

They sat down facing each other across Douglas’s dining table. Treasure helped herself to generous amounts of everything on offer, piling her plate high, while Douglas filled his plate more cautiously. He was still trying to work out exactly what was going on here. He opened the wine expertly, pausing a moment to approve of the excellent vintage, and poured out two tall, thin glasses. Treasure rewarded him with her trademark wide smile. Douglas had to admit it really was a very nice smile. He was glad he’d made the decision to clean himself up. He would have hated her to see him the way he used to be. As it was, they made a striking enough couple. He with his handsome face and golden hair, Treasure with her famous sensual face and a great mane of pure white hair tumbling down past her bare shoulders. It had to be said, she had the most delightful collar-bones . . .

“Are you sure you’ve got enough there?” said Douglas, as Treasure finally finished loading up her plate.

She laughed easily. “The joys of a fast-moving metabolism, darling. I burn it all off through nervous energy. Besides, I’ve always believed that appetites should be satisfied. Anything less is unnatural and unhealthy.”

“So you eat like this all the time?”

“Oh, hell, no. My agent would have a fit if she could see me now. There are very strict clauses in my contract about being overweight. But this is a special occasion, so . . .”

“It is?” said Douglas.

“Oh, yes,” said Treasure, smiling over her wineglass at him. “Drink up, darling. You don’t want to get left behind, do you?”

Douglas had to smile. In her own ingenuous way, Treasure was as unstoppable as a force of nature. She attacked her food happily, wolfing it all down with good appetite, and Douglas ate his quite excellent food at a somewhat slower pace, so he could study his dinner companion unobtrusively. Her long, flowing, off-the-shoulder gown was shimmering silver, studded here and there with semiprecious stones, carefully designed to amplify and draw attention to her fabulous cleavage—as if it needed any help. Seen away from the camera, and with rather more understated makeup than usual, Treasure’s face was pretty rather than beautiful, given strength by her pointed chin and blazing green eyes. Her gaze was direct and untroubled, and she chattered happily about nothing in particular, in between and sometimes during large mouthfuls of food. She ate with her fingers when she felt like it, and didn’t give a damn.

Douglas watched her carefully, in much the same way he would have watched a dangerous opponent in the Arena, to see which way the attack might come from. Treasure was charming if undemanding company, and certainly easy enough on the eyes, but Douglas thought he knew a planned seduction when he saw one charging straight at him. Clearly Treasure had decided to make sure she had him properly infatuated with her before the wedding, so there wouldn’t be any problems this time. Douglas smiled, and poured more wine for both of them. He’d been dodging predatory women since he was a teenager. There’s nothing like being the only heir to the throne of the Empire to make one apparently irresistible to women.

So he ate with a good appetite, and nodded pleasantly back at Treasure as she chattered away. Why not? It was something to do, and thanks to Finn bloody Durandal he didn’t get out much these days. It was good to have company. And she was going to be his wife, eventually. Douglas wondered if Treasure knew that he meant to put the ceremony off for as long as he could. Perhaps she guessed it, and that was what this dinner was for. Certainly she was making every effort to charm, chase, and vamp him; and with anyone else she would probably have succeeded. You’d have had to be dead from the neck down not to feel Treasure’s appeal. Having the full force of her sexuality turned on you was like staring into an open blast furnace.

But Douglas still loved Jesamine. Stupidly, hopelessly, helplessly. Because love is like that, when it strikes a man in later life. Douglas had never really cared for anyone before. He’d never wanted for female company, and had been genuinely fond of most of them, but he’d always known that mostly he tended to choose his women by how much they’d piss off his father. But he’d loved Jesamine from the moment he met her. And he’d thought she cared for him. Perhaps she had, in her way, but she’d still left him to be with Lewis. It didn’t matter. He still loved her, and always would.

Besides, Douglas didn’t entirely trust Treasure’s motives. You didn’t get to be a major vid star without a ruthless ambition and determination far beyond the norm. She’d never be content to be just a trophy wife on his arm. Make her Queen, and she’d find ways to exercise power. Real power. Either on her own, or through her dominated husband. So Douglas ate his meal and drank his wine, gracefully sidestepped her little traps and seductions, and watched it all with quiet amusement. It had been a long time since he’d had anything to smile at.

Behind her smile, Treasure was watching him with increasing annoyance. Even her most practiced techniques came to nothing against this man’s casual self-possession. Look at him, eating the most expensive food in the Empire as though it was just another meal, and smiling at her as though she was just another woman. She wasn’t used to having her magnificent presence taken for granted. Most men lost the thread of what they were saying every time she took a deep breath, and spilt their wine if she deigned to lean forward. She was beginning to get just a little angry. She was a
star,
dammit. She even lowered herself to being a good listener, only to find Douglas had nothing much to say. She’d set up this meal specifically to discover whether the King really was the broken man he appeared to be; but she was no closer to finding out. His face was open and amiable, his manner dull but pleasant, and neither face nor voice gave any clues as to what was going on in his mind. She’d come here with every intention of seducing the man, but he didn’t seem interested in that, either, which was practically unheard of. Perhaps the Durandal was doping him? That would explain a lot.

But Frankie had to be sure. The Hellfire Club needed to be sure. There was a lot she could do as Queen to advance the Hellfire Club’s agenda, in public and in private; but not if the King opposed her. Douglas had killed dozens of Hellfire Club devils in his days as a Paragon, when he was still a man to be reckoned with. If he still was . . . She let her hand drift casually closer to the long slender dagger secretly sheathed on her upper right thigh. No one had body-searched her. No one had dared. She could kill him, if she had to . . . but it would be such a wasted opportunity, if he could be turned. The things she could do as Queen; the terrible, wonderful things . . .

She focused on the creed of the Hellfire Club:
Thou shalt not love. Thou shalt not be weak. Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.

“How are the baby mice stuffed with hummingbirds’ tongues?” she asked sweetly.

“A little overspiced, I fear,” said Douglas.

Treasure almost ground her teeth together. She held out her glass for him to fill, and arranged it so that her fingers brushed his lightly. He didn’t even seem to notice. Maybe if she just grabbed his face and jammed it between her breasts . . . She indicated that she’d had enough to eat, and he agreed. They moved away from the table, and took their drinks over to the fireplace. He was still being pleasant and even gallant, in a rather vague way, and Treasure, or rather Frankie, thought
Oh, the hell with it.
She pushed Douglas back against the wall and slammed her body up against his. Her magnificent breasts flattened against his manly chest. His arms went around her automatically. She grabbed his head with both hands and pulled his mouth towards her waiting lips. And Douglas grabbed her bare shoulders and pushed her away from him with such force that she fell backwards onto the thickly carpeted floor. She sat down hard on her well-padded bottom and glared up at him, hair disheveled, breathing heavily, and their eyes met. And for just a moment they both saw the real person behind each other’s public mask. They regarded each other coldly, and then the masks slipped smoothly back into place. Douglas leaned forwards, offering his hand. Treasure accepted it, and rose to her feet with dignity. She brushed herself down here and there, adjusted her décolletage, and ran her hands through her long white hair. Her breathing was perfectly calm now, as was his.

“It’s Jesamine, isn’t it?” she said. “After all she’s done to you, it’s still Jesamine.”

“Yes,” said Douglas. “I’m afraid it is.”

“What could she offer you that I can’t?”

“If you have to ask, my dear, you’ll never know.”

Two bright spots burned angrily on Treasure’s cheeks. “I will be your wife, and your Queen, Douglas.”

“Yes, I’m afraid you probably will be. I hope you get more out of it than I ever have through being King.”

“Someday,” said Frankie, “you will kneel to me, Douglas.”

“I suppose Hell has to freeze over sometime. Thanks for dinner. We must do this again, sometime.”

Treasure Mackenzie swept out of Douglas’s quarters, trailing her tattered dignity behind her. Douglas went back to the dinner table, and wondered if he could find the room for just a little more. It really was excellent food, and it would be a shame to let it go to waste.