Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

the back of her cloak?"
    "Yeah," said Owen. "Disrupter burn. I take it she wasn't wearing the cloak at the time?"
    "No. Her husband was. Someone shot him in the back, at point-blank range. She found the killer, and killed him slowly, but she still wears the cloak, and she never had the hole mended. What kind of person would do that?"
    "Cold, obsessed, unswerving," said Hazel. "An Investigator in other words."
    "Let's change the subject," said Silver. "Before I start looking over my shoulder and jumping at sudden noises. Jack Random and that Psycho woman took off on their own missions. What are you here for? Or aren't you allowed to tell me?"
    "It's no big deal," said Hazel. "I'm here to make contact with the Council on behalf of the Golgotha underground. It should have been someone else, but plans got changed at the last minute, and I was the only one who didn't run away fast enough, so I got volunteered. Owen's here to hunt down an old information-gathering network his father set up in Mistport some years ago. You can make a move when you're ready, Deathstalker. I'm going to spend some time with Silver before I get started."
    Owen frowned. "I thought we'd be sticking together. You know Mistport a lot better than I do."
    "So what do you want me to do, aristo? Hold your hand?"
    "You heard what Silver said," Owen said stubbornly. "We don't have any friends
    out there, and our… link is unreliable."
    "I can look after myself," said Hazel. "So can you."
    Owen scowled, nonplussed. It made no sense at all to split up when they both had so many old and new enemies to watch out for. He wondered for a moment if Silver might have been more than a friend in the past, and that was why he was being frozen out, but he didn't think so. The body language was all wrong from both of them. But it was clear he wasn't going to get anywhere with Hazel while she was in this kind of mood. There was also no point in losing his temper. She'd always been better at throwing tantrums than he. He found it all so undignified.
    Besides, she didn't look too good. She was sweating in the heat of the fire, and her mouth was set in a flat, ugly line. Owen pushed back his chair and got to his feet.
    "Well, if you'd rather waste time chatting with an old friend than getting on with the job we were sent here to do, I can't stop you."
    "Damn right you can't. And don't take that tone with me, Deathstalker. I know my duty, but I'll take care of it in my own time and in my own way."
    "Time is something we're rather short of, Hazel. Or had you forgotten how closely the Empire has been dogging our heels?"
    "I haven't forgotten anything! You stick to your mission and leave me to mine!
    Get out of here, aristo. I'm sick of looking at you. I don't need you!"
    "No," said Owen. "You've never needed anyone, have you?"
    He bowed curtly to Silver and stalked out of the room, not quite slamming the door behind him. The tense silence continued for a while, as Hazel glared at the closed door, and Silver studied her thoughtfully. He'd seen Hazel in many moods, but this was a new one on him. Clearly the Deathstalker, or at least his
    opinion, mattered to Hazel. Silver hoped she wasn't falling for the outlawed aristocrat. Hazel had never been any good at handling affairs of the heart. She always got hurt in the end. He almost jumped as Hazel turned suddenly to face him, her eyes hot and fierce.
    "We've always been good friends, haven't we, John?"
    "Of course we have. We've walked a lot of miles together."
    "I need your help, John."
    "It's yours. Anything you want, just say the word."
    "I need some Blood. Just a drop or two. Do you know where you can get some?
    Someone… discreet?"
    "If that's what you want."
    "Yes, John. That's what I want."
    Silver pursed his lips. "The Deathstalker doesn't know about this, does he?"
    "No. And you're not to tell him. He wouldn't understand."
    "I'm not sure I do. I thought you were clear of that shit. I held your hand and sponged your brow and wiped your ass while you sweated the stuff out of your system the last time. I don't want to have to do that again. It almost killed you, Hazel."
    "I'm not talking about going back to being a plasma baby again! I've got it under control this time. I just need a drop, now and again. You don't know what I've been through, John. You don't know the pressure I'm under."
    "I said I'd help you. Hazel. If Blood is what you need, I can get it for you. We all have the right to go to Hell in our own ways. As