Blood Rebellion Page 25


"Who likes to read, here?" I asked. Several hands went up. "Good. I'm looking to open a library and maybe some bookstores. Come to the palace tomorrow and we'll see what we can do."


We ended up at somebody's house, about forty or so of us, and we talked about all sorts of things. Bottles of blood substitute and wine were passed around, if anybody wanted it. I had a glass of red wine and enjoyed the company.


By the end of the week we had books, both paper and electronic, on order, a news channel in its infancy and Radomir, Russell and Will were going together to put up stores offering a variety of toiletry needs. My shy vampire got what he wanted—I folded to Earth and got him a case of everything.


His name was Grant and I decided he would make a very good personal assistant. He already knew his way around Alliance hand-held computers, could file like the wind and was overjoyed when I offered him the position. He moved right into the palace (cases of toiletries and all), and Roff, Giff and little Toff liked him very much. Actually, Toff loved Grant and would squeal and laugh if Grant held him. Grant had a cubicle just outside my large, private study and started making sense out of all the paper that was piling up, in addition to pointing me toward the important electronic messages I was now getting from the Reth Alliance.


We were also coming along with the rules and laws concerning the vampires and comesuli, and then we had to hammer out the rules and laws concerning the gambling guests who were already lining up to come for a visit, cameras in hand, no doubt. Bryan got his network set up and running smoothly, which meant that vid screens were ordered by the thousands. One of the Reth Alliance worlds made a lot of money on the sale of giant vid-screens and I think it might have been Refizan. Gabron, no doubt, had connections. He and I still weren't talking much. Two months later, the brothels were in place and the pleasure workers were arriving. I hoped they all didn't expect a personal greeting from the Queen when they walked off the ship—that wasn't going to happen.


* * *


"He's married to her?" Shala stared at Elthine. They'd worked for Gabron on Refizan and leapt at the opportunity to come to Le-Ath Veronis. They enjoyed the climax they received whenever a vampire had bitten them before and often begged for it. Gabron had frequently satisfied them himself. They were now discussing the Queen, whom they hadn't seen.


"Seems to be. He wears a ring he never had before." Elthine had noticed that right away, when Gabron had shown them their new home.


"She can't compete with us," Shala snorted, making Elthine laugh.


* * *


"I applied for this under your name," Arvil San Gerxon handed the ticket to his assistant. Theos stared at the official document—it bore the crown of claws on the front, which was the Queen of Le-Ath Veronis' royal seal.


"You want me to go?" Theos squeaked, reading the acceptance card in surprise.


"I do. I want information," Arvil snapped. "I have all the hype the media are releasing, but I want someone there on the ground. You will send me regular updates; you're scheduled for a two-week visit."


Theos knew what concerned Arvil the most. Erland Morphis and the A&M Consortium had pulled all their employees away from Campiaa, closed down their casinos the previous week and Arvil had wakened the following morning to find both casinos razed to the ground. Arvil had yet to determine how that had been accomplished. Of course, there were rumors that Erland was Karathian, which might explain things. Some of the other casino owners were allegedly negotiating with Le-Ath Veronis to open casinos there. Arvil was considering breaking his own laws and building on the now vacant lots still owned by Erland Morphis and A&M Consortium. That would increase the San Gerxon holdings and their profits.


"Get my contractor on the phone," Arvil barked, breaking Theos out of his stupor. He'd been staring at the ticket Arvil placed in his hand. Theos rushed to obey.


* * *


"I will consider almost anything, if the money is sufficient," Gart examined his fingernails. A Karathian Warlock by birth, Gart had been on Wylend Arden's most wanted list of rogues for a very long time. He nodded to his newest client, who'd identified himself as Felix. "How many do you have and where would you like them transported?"


"Beliphar is ripe for a takeover," Felix smiled. "You'll get your money."


"Tell me what I am transporting, for curiosity's sake," Gart feigned indifference.


"A new race. A little faster, a little better than your average humanoid," Felix replied. He didn't add that they were capable of reproducing themselves by sharing a bit of DNA—all it took was a simple kiss or a bite and the victim was immediately infected. One of the unexpected but useful advantages of the Ra'Ak DNA that had been spliced into cast-off Elemaiya. They'd purposely bred quarter and eighth blood children, just to achieve these results.


The Elemaiyan races were no more, but these children had been hidden away at the suggestion of the Khos'Mirai. The Bright Elemaiyan Queen regretted her decision regarding the Khos'Mirai, but that could not be changed, now. She no longer existed, either. Not in her former capacity, anyway. Felix, a quarter-blood and enhanced like the others, was quite happy with this turn of events. The gates had been closed against them, but there were other ways of getting from one place to another.


* * *


"Stand still, love. They'll think you're a servant." Garde was teasing me about my clothing—I was wearing jeans and a silk top—not the outfit one might expect a Queen to wear as the first tourists and gamblers came through the Alliance-required customs stations. No weapons were allowed—coming or going. Vampires manned those stations; they were trained to pick up any scent of gunpowder, but those weapons would be archaic. Laser tasers were now the weapon of choice and could kill if aimed at the proper part of the body. A zap to the heart was all it took for most humanoids. Vampires operated the machines that would detect those and any other weapons visitors thought to bring with them.


Shadow had also come to see this for himself and was giving me his best grin as we watched the new arrivals drag their luggage toward waiting public transportation. Some—the wealthy or those who'd purchased an upgraded package, had vampire chauffeurs waiting with private transportation. Their bags were carried by vampire valets, too. I'd hate to be some of those tourists if they tried to treat the vampires carrying their luggage in a less than respectful manner.


"Can you help me?" A woman walked right up to me with a brochure in her hands. "How do I sign up for the tour to the palace? It says here that it only happens once a week and I don't want to miss it." Shadow almost bent double, trying to hold back his laughter. I kicked him unobtrusively.


"You can sign up for the tour at the hotel desk when you check in," I answered her question. "Be sure to fill out the form completely. You'll be notified if your application to go on the tour is approved."


"But why does it have to be approved? Shouldn't it be open to the public?" The woman demanded. She looked to be in her late forties and wore a bright fuchsia top and cream slacks.


"Because the Queen is a reclusive bitch who enjoys her privacy," I replied, causing Shadow to guffaw. Garde snickered.


"Should you be speaking of your Queen that way?" The woman asked. "From the moment I read that she was taking over and rebuilding the vampire planet, I've wanted to meet her." She seemed a little annoyed.


"I can speak about the Queen any way I want," I said. The woman frowned at me. "What's your name?" I asked.


"Galene," she replied huffily.


"And the hotel you're visiting?"


"The Chessman." Well, she was uptown, then. Adam had lent his family name to his premier hotel and casino.


"I believe that Mr. Chessman is actually there today, to greet some of his guests." I took the brochure from her hands and Pulled in a pen. "Tell him I approved your application personally for the tour." I was busily writing the same message on her brochure for Adam—he'd know it was authentic—and then signed my name. Galene stared in fascination as the pen materialized in my hand and then watched as I signed my name.


"See, I really can talk about the Queen any way I want," I smiled and handed her brochure back.


"Should I bow or curtsy?" Galene got her voice back after a few seconds.


"Please don't. I don't require it of anyone else," I said. "You should go before you miss your bus. Do you need help with your luggage?" She had a roller bag sitting next to her.


"Maybe," she said.


"I'll get it." I lifted the bag easily and walked toward one of the waiting buses.


"Lissa, what the hell are you doing?" Flavio demanded. He'd come to make sure everything was flowing smoothly.


"Helping Galene with her bag," I replied, handing said bag off to a vampire, who was loading things into the luggage compartment. "This is Galene," I introduced Flavio to the woman. "Flavio is Head of the Vampire Council from Earth and one of my trusted advisors. Also the third most beautiful man I've ever met."


Galene thought so, too—she was staring at Flavio with an expression of complete worship on her face.


"You," I motioned a vampire over; he was making sure the passengers were loaded safely.


"Yes, my Queen?" he smiled at me.


"Will you see that Galene gets a good seat?" I pointed the woman toward the vampire.


"Are you a vampire, too?"


"Yes, Madame. Most certainly a vampire. Eight hundred years a vampire, from Refizan." He led her away.


"That poor woman is so stunned she is nearly immobile," Flavio commented dryly.


"Well, she got her wish, right off the bat. It's all downhill from here," I said. Flavio winked at me. I could hear Shadow and Garde still laughing where I'd left them.


* * *


We were getting the newsfeeds; Alliance news crews were everywhere and there was Galene, talking to one of the reporters. "Oh, no," I slapped a hand over my face. A vid screen had been brought in so we could all watch during dinner.