power.
“What is your name?” she asked him.
He inclined his head as if to acknowledge her civility. “Damon,” he replied.
Appropriate, coming as it did from the ancient Greek word for “demon.” But what interested her more was that he had no Sire-name to indicate which Bloodmaster or Bloodlord claimed his vassalage.
It was true, then, what Aegis taught...that Daysiders lived outside the strict hierarchy of Nightsider society. No one in the Enclaves was completely certain of how they had come into being. The ongoing question was whether or not they had “awakened” years ago along with the regular Nightsiders, or if they had been created since.
“I’m Agent Fox,” she said, “and this is Agent Carter.”
“Ms. Fox,” Damon said, arching a brow. Alexia wondered how close he was to comparing her to her animal namesake. What did he remind
A leopard. Sleek and swift, well-defined muscle sliding under golden skin and mottled olive-brown uniform, dappled with shadow.
“
Damon moved his shoulders as if he were stretching against the pull of the cuffs. It almost looked as if he could snap the reinforced steel like the thinnest plastic.
“I propose that we work together,” he said, “pool our skills and our knowledge. Learn what we can about the colony without engaging the colonists, and then go our separate ways.”
“That’s insane,” Michael burst out.
Alexia was inclined to agree. But she also wasn’t too blinded by hatred to see the possibilities inherent in Damon’s suggestion.
“Why would you encourage your enemies to learn more about a settlement founded by Nightsiders?” she asked him bluntly. “Wouldn’t that be against your handler’s best interests?”
“Since Aegis will eventually obtain the information in any case,” he said, “it is my judgment that our working together would be very much to the Citadel’s advantage.”
Michael spun to face Alexia. “Can’t you see he intends to lead us along the garden path and annihilate us at the end of it?” he said.
Alexia let his anger pass over her. “Why should we trust you?” she asked Damon.
The Daysider’s eyes, already so dark, grew darker still. “Your partner wants to destroy me,” he said. “I am in no position to stop him. There are two of you, and I am alone. Yet I am offering this truce because I know that the distraction of fighting each other will lose us valuable time.” He leaned forward. “You understand the delicacy of the situation.
Even the smallest misstep—”
“Are you trying to tell us that your Council didn’t encourage this colony from the beginning?” Michael interrupted.
“Yes.”
“And your masters don’t see this setup as a way of getting a foothold in the Zone, or provoking a new war they think they can win?”
Damon blew out his breath in a brief sigh. “Your agency is well aware of the way my government is organized,” he said. “The Expansionists have minority status at this time. I serve the Council as a whole, which wants to keep the balance just as it is.”
“So you say,” Alexia murmured.
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “If your agency believed the Expansionists were in ascendance, this new settlement would be the least of its concerns.”
He made perfect sense, Alexia thought. Too much sense, in fact.
She rose, keeping the rifle leveled at Damon’s head. “My partner and I will have to discuss this privately,” she said.
“Of course.” Damon shrugged his shoulders again. “It’s unlikely I’ll be going anywhere.”
“I’ll make sure of that,” Michael grunted. “Lie on your stomach.”
Damon did as he commanded, and Michael made quick work of cuffing his ankles.
Maybe the Daysider could break free of them eventually, but Alexia didn’t plan to be away more than a few minutes.
She and Michael retreated into the brush, backing away with their weapons still fixed on Damon. Once they were a good thirty meters away, Alexia pressed the skin of her throat over the subcom implanted beside her larynx and adjusted her earpiece.
Mike touched his own highly sensitive earpiece, which picked up their subvocalizations as if they were spoken aloud.
He gave her a look she’d never seen on his face before, one uncomfortably like mistrust. But when he spoke again, there was only resignation in his expression.
After a long moment of silence he nodded, briefly and not at all happily. Alexia frowned. It just wasn’t like him to be so grim.
Michael pulled a face.
Michael signaled agreement, and they switched back to audible voice, still whispering to make it seem as if they were trying to prevent Damon from listening in. Michael was extremely persuasive in his refusal to go along, and Alexia found it easy to work up the appropriate anger. She’d already been troubled by Michael’s open protests before, and Damon wasn’t likely to think their exchange this time any worse than the previous one.
Once Michael had “stomped” off, vowing to let her learn from her own mistakes, Alexia returned to Damon. He was sitting up again, head cocked as he watched her approach. He wasn’t smiling, but she could feel his amusement at her and Michael’s little game.
“It seems your partner doesn’t agree with your decision,” he said.
She crouched a safe distance from him, her gun loose in her hands, and met his gaze.