Deathstalker 07 - Deathstalker Return

to speak through in public. So on the whole, I feel most secure when I don't have to think about what I'm saying— when I can just play the part, and not have to worry about who I really am. Or what I might think, given the chance. I am not James. The more I read up on my progenitor, the more clear it becomes that he wouldn't have put up with this shit for a moment. He was always his own man, and proud of it. But if I'm not James, who am I? Who am I when the lights go out and there's no one there but me?"
    His voice was rising now, growing more agitated. "Give me a speech to deliver, and I'm fine. Ask me to strike a pose, flash the smile, act the King-in-waiting, and I can do that. Easy. No problem. But even now, when it's just me speaking to you, the words sound more like James Campbell than the few poor personal thoughts that drift through my mind. It's easier to act James than be myself—whoever that might be. Is there any me, anymore?"
    By now he'd almost reduced himself to hysterical tears. Anne comforted him as she always did, by taking him in her arms and rocking him gently back and forth, and he clung to her like a child. But this time, when she was ready to let go, he held on. They looked at each other, their faces very close, and then James kissed her impulsively on the mouth. Anne was honestly surprised. She still had trouble remembering that she was beautiful now, and that a man could be attracted to her. And anyway, James was off-limits. Finn had made that very clear. Anne kissed James back, and put her arms around him again, and let the passion rise within her. Why not? she thought fiercely. James never knew the old me.
    As jar as he knows, I've always been beautiful. And it's time I had something for myself. Something that doesn't come from Finn.
    James was actually shy with her, and Anne had to lead him on. Encourage him, coax him, teach him. It was a new role for her, and one she enjoyed. She locked the door, and had him lie down on his back on the floor, and then she straddled him, and they made fierce, almost brutal love. And James's open adoration allowed Anne to be the kind of woman she'd always wanted to be, aggressive and wanton. It was good, so very good. And it wasn't as if she was doing anything wrong. No one was getting hurt. She was building his confidence, as he built hers. Two orphaned souls who had no one but each other.
    But Anne was still very inexperienced in some ways. Afterwards, as they lay in each other's arms, thinking their private thoughts, if Anne had taken the trouble to look directly into James's eyes, she might have seen something. Something to make her wonder how genuine James's motives really were. Whether perhaps he was clever enough, and cold enough, to use her to break him away from Finn's control…
    But she didn't look. And neither did he.
    Elsewhere, in a room of no importance, theShadow Court was in session. No comforting holo of the Empress Lionstone this time, no clever recreation of her savage court. Most of their old meeting places
    had been discovered and overrun, and many of their supporters had been lured away by the more promising causes of Pure Humanity and the Church Militant. Only a few still kept to the old faith, and the return of the Families. TheShadow Court still had money and influence, and a handful of dedicated souls still ready to kill or die for the cause, but the movement had become just a shadow of its previous self.
    Nine men and women—carefully anonymous in enveloping black cloaks, faces hidden behind artfully embellished black masks of silk and metal and leather—were all that remained of the ruling elite. And they came together around a bare table, in a bare room, to argue about money. TheShadow Court 's most successful attempt to reestablish interest in the old Families had been the creation of that most popular vid soap, The Quality. It had become amazingly successful, bringing in profits so great that not even vid company accountants had been able to hide them all. The elite of theShadow Court were now all incredibly, embarrassingly rich. And some of them were determined to stay that way.
    " The Quality works fine as it is," said a slender woman in a domino mask. "I see no reason to change anything."
    "And I say we've lost track of what The Quality was meant to be," snapped another woman, in a black mask liberally spotted with sequins. She fanned herself angrily with a paper fan decorated with erotic images. "The Quality was