Deathstalker 08 - Deathstalker Coda

die.”
    “Why not? You let so many other people die. And it might actually have been kinder, in my case.”
    “I couldn’t let you go,” said Finn. “Because you’re the only one who saw the monster within me, and didn’t flinch.”
    Anne looked at him for the first time with her glowing golden eyes, and smiled briefly. “Takes one to know one.”
    “I want to help you,” said Finn. “Tell me how.”
    “Don’t you know what I need, Finn?”
    “Emotional support. But I’ve never been very good at that. Just don’t have the knack.”
    “Then you’re no use to me. You’d have to be human to understand what I’m going through, and you left that behind a long time ago.”
    Finn looked at her, feeling helpless. He didn’t like the feeling. He could see what she needed, but had no idea what it involved. He never had. Emotions were for the most part things he only understood from a distance. But he tried anyway. Because he needed to believe that even monsters didn’t have to be monsters all the time.
    “I could still make you my Queen,” he said. “Set you on a throne beside me. No one would say anything. No one would dare.”
    Anne laughed harshly. “I can just see something like me sitting on a throne. A perfect symbol for the Empire you’ve made, Finn. No. I never wanted to be Queen. I wanted so very little, and never got any of it. And now . . . I’m haunted by the people I could have been. Stronger, better, happier people. All I am now is what you made of me. Just another poor damned monster—like you.”
    Finn considered the matter, and then shrugged mentally. Anne was lost to him, trapped within her own limitations. Which meant he had no more use for her, except as a weapon to use against his enemies. So he turned and left her in her room, her cage, nodded good-bye to the preoccupied Dr. Happy, and went off to set in motion his plan to bait and trap and kill Douglas Campbell.

    First, he made an official announcement, on all his tame news stations, that Anne Barclay wasn’t dead after all. Instead, she had been kept in strict seclusion while she recovered from her many serious injuries. But now that she was finally well enough, she could at last be put on trial for treason, and the murder of the well-beloved Paragon Emma Steel. There would be a show trial, televised on every channel, followed quickly by a prolonged, painful, and messy execution.
    Finn watched a recording of his broadcast afterwards, and gave himself serious points for an excellent performance. He struck just the right notes of betrayed trust and outraged honor. He still had the crystal paperweight with which Anne had bludgeoned Emma Steel to death, stained with the Paragon’s dried blood. He’d had a feeling at the time it might come in handy someday. Not that he expected to have to offer it in evidence. It would never come to a trial. Douglas would see to that. He’d take one look at the news broadcast and come running to save her. Because after all that had happened, after all the things that Anne had done, she was still his friend. Douglas would come to rescue her, because he still believed in people. That had always been his greatest weakness.

    Nina Malapert got the news first, of course. She hurriedly called a private meeting, just for her and Douglas and Stuart, and wouldn’t say why until they were all assembled in Douglas’s room. Two Psycho Sluts stood guard outside the door, ensuring they wouldn’t be interrupted. Douglas and Stuart sat on the two chairs and looked expectantly at Nina, who was too nervous to sit or stand still. In the end, she folded her arms tightly under her breasts, mostly to keep her hands from shaking, and broke the news as swiftly and kindly as she could. She kept to the bare facts, not commenting, while watching Douglas carefully. After she’d finished, he didn’t say anything for a long time. Nina and Stuart looked at each other.
    “You’re thinking about a rescue,” Stuart said finally. “Don’t. We can’t risk it, Douglas. She’s being held inside the palace. We’d need an army just to break in, and I don’t see why we should risk so many good people for a back-stabbing traitor like Anne Barclay.”
    “We wouldn’t need an army,” said Douglas. “I know old, secret ways into the palace, remember? Ways that Finn doesn’t even suspect are there.”
    “You’re thinking of going on your own, aren’t you?” said Nina. “Sweetie, it’s a trap! Has to