Blood Rebellion

"We don’t have much in the options department, since Campiaa isn’t an Alliance world. This is why we razed the casinos to begin with," Adam raked a hand through his dark-brown hair. I could tell he was frustrated at the information.

"I’d like to send this one back as a spy, but that could get him killed and not in a nice way," Merrill glanced at me, piercing blue eyes asking a nonverbal question.

"We can’t send him back." I was sure of that. Merrill nodded—that was the answer he wanted as well.

"We need more employees on the light side," Erland suggested.

"Fine," I shrugged. "But how are we going to pass the news along to Arvil San Gerxon? He’ll put a contract on Theos. Theos," I turned to him; he was sipping his second Scotch and soda. He needed it; he was shaking. He lifted his eyebrows at me. "Do you have any family or loved ones that Arvil can threaten?"

"No," Theos’ gaze dropped to the floor. "He already killed everybody I know."

"Christ," Adam muttered.

"Find him a place to stay on the light side; we’ll figure this out," I sighed. "And don’t put him to work for a week—he needs some time."

"Thank you," Theos was about to cry again, I think, when he was led from my office.

"How do we get a message to Arvil San Gerxon?" I asked Erland, who was still there. Grant was, too, and he’d watched the entire incident with openmouthed astonishment.

"I can get a message to him; what are we going to say?"

"I have an idea," Grant volunteered.

* * *

"We caught your spy," Gavin snarled into the camera while Theos, cuffed and chained, sat in a chair behind Gavin looking terrified. Well, he probably was; Gavin’s eyes were red and he was showing fang. "He will be detained indefinitely."

"That’s a wrap!" Bryan Riley was getting a high five from Brock and Grace, who also had experience in this sort of thing. I didn’t know that Brock and Grace had once been award-winning documentary filmmakers. Who knew?

"We’ll have this put together as an electronic message in no time," Brock was having a blast. Gavin went back to normal; Theos breathed an understandable sigh of relief as Drake and Drew removed the chains and cuffs.

"Do you want to come to the kitchens and have something to eat?" I practically pulled Theos from his chair. He went with me and Cheedas found something for Theos to snack on.

"Do you do this all the time? I thought the Queen would be inaccessible," Theos said over his roast-beef sandwich.

"She comes to my kitchen often," Cheedas nodded. "We talk. If I need anything, I tell the Raona. Things get done after that."

"I can see how things get done," Theos nodded. "Yesterday, I was a slave to Arvil San Gerxon. Today I feel like a free man."

"You are. As long as you’re honest with us, we’ll protect you as well as we can." I was having half a sandwich with Theos—dinner had gone right past me, causing quite a bit of grumbling among the mate department.

* * *

"What the hell happened?" Arvil’s Chief of Security watched the video with Arvil.

"He got caught. Probably trying to record something he wasn’t supposed to. No way to get him back—and he wasn’t that important anyway. We’ll just have to find someone else to send. Look through the applicants and see who might qualify."

"Will Theos pass over any information?"

"Nothing Erland Morphis didn’t already know," Arvil snorted. "I kept him out of the important things."

"I’ll find someone else for you," the Chief promised.

* * *

"You all know what to do." Gart had dropped Felix and twelve thousand troops in the plowed fields on Beliphar. Now, Felix was handing orders to his troops. Spring had arrived and planting was about to begin. Farming had been done by vampires before they’d all disappeared—during the night since they could see just as well then as anyone else might during the day. Now, Beliphar was missing its slave labor. Most of the population had wakened one morning to find empty cuffs lying everywhere. Most of the cuffs were near piles of ash, but many were clean. The authorities were now scrambling to place humanoids in vampire positions and laying blame while they did it.

Felix’s second and third in command nodded to their leader as he stood in the soft soil of the tilled field. All they had to do was pass their saliva or blood to any one of the Belipharan population and they would be infected. It took roughly a month for the symptoms to manifest and about twenty percent of the population would die—the very young and the older ones, mostly; their bodies wouldn’t adapt. The rest would become soldiers, like them.

Felix had already made plans to get off world—Beliphar still had starships. Granted they were aging and hadn’t been used in a very long while, but that shouldn’t matter. They’d get where they were going, one way or another. Felix had lost touch with the contingent on Falchan and didn’t know what that meant. It could be something as simple as a broken communicator, since Falchan didn’t have that technology or the supplies or equipment to facilitate repairs. Felix would consider that problem later. For now, he had a planet to take.

* * *

"He left his ring." Shala held the gold ring in her hand. Gabron had removed everything when they’d gotten into the hot tub with him. "Look, it has the royal crest on it." Elthine pointed out the claw crown on the round signet ring.

"You know, I think I know what to do with this," Shala giggled.

* * *

"Roff, how did you do this?" I picked oxberries at lightning speed alongside Roff and twenty other comesuli on the High Demon planet. Giff had come, too, after leaving Toff with Grant. Grant loved to babysit and found a sling to carry Toff while he worked. He didn’t even mind feeding Toff. I’d ordered a new wardrobe for Grant, since his current one was stained with Toff’s lunch selections.

The sun shone warm and bright over our heads as we picked berries. Garde had come when we’d gotten started, laughed at my straw hat and then went to do Prime Minister things for Jayd.

"It just takes determination and experience, Raona," Roff grinned at me and kept picking. We were piling baskets of oxberries off to the side and Franklin, Shane and Tomas were folding them to Roff’s new winery on Le-Ath Veronis faster than we could pick them. The thorns weren’t much of a treat, either, and my hands were already scratched up. I figured I wasn’t feeling as much of the pain as the others had to be; I imagined Frank and the others would have patients lined up when we finished for the day.