Laws of the Blood 4: Deceptions: Deceptions (22 page)

“Yes. At least she mentioned driving back from Georgetown last night.”

“Then we don’t need your—” He glanced warily at Bitch, who sat on her haunches with her tongue lolling out. “—hellhound. I know exactly where my son lives.” He grabbed her by the wrist. “Let’s go.”

“He’s mine! You can’t have him.”

“No one belongs to anyone in this territory unless I say so.” Olympias looked down at Falconer, who’d slid down the wall, leaving a trail of his own blood on the wallpaper after Lora had whirled away from him to face Olympias. “Doesn’t look like there’s much left to fight over.” She knew the scent of all that virgin blood excited Lora. Olympias had to fight against the rush of desire herself. Olympias was glad she had at least arrived before Lora’d marked him for herself. Olympias hadn’t felt this sort of blood arousal in years, and she licked her lips.

The gesture was unconscious, and it infuriated Lora. “You’ve slept with him, haven’t you? You’ve slept with him!”

“Yes.”

“How could you? You knew he was mine!”

“I hadn’t said he was yours.”

“He’s mine!” The girl’s shout was deafening. She quivered with rage and bloodlust, and other lust as well.
She was crying. Her claws were covered in the man’s blood, and she was crying.

This child was not sane. Olympias tried to tamp down her own anger and the desire that swirled around her. She wanted to believe she was responding to the girl’s projected emotions, but she had to admit that her desire for Falconer was her own. She didn’t have to explain anything to Lora,
she
was the Enforcer.

Maybe it was some tiny hint of guilt that the girl had seen him first that made her say, “Calm down. I didn’t take a drop. Get over it. And get out of my way,” she added, gesturing for the girl to move aside. Another thing she hated to admit, she wanted to get to Mike Falconer to see how badly he was injured, not to finish off the job Lora had started. She cared for this mortal. “Damn it.”

“Damn you!” Lora stayed planted between Olympias and Falconer. She held her fully extended claws up before Olympias, and her fangs were now Hunting length.

Olympias was not impressed. She’d given the kid a chance. One chance was fair. Anything more was weakness. Olympias showed her own claws as she stepped forward.

Mike lifted his head when she moved, focused a dazed gaze on her, and croaked out, “Olympias.”

She couldn’t help but smile. The stubborn dear. “You’re a tough one, Mike.”

“Bitch!”

“That’s my dog.”

“How could you? I hate you!”

Olympias expected Lora to respond by attacking her; instead Lora lunged toward Mike.

“If I can’t have him—”

Olympias’s claws sank into Lora’s back before the girl could finish the sentence or do any further harm to Mike Falconer. “You can’t.”

She tossed Lora across the room, heard wood splinter as Lora crashed against the doorframe.

Instead of taking the hint, Lora rebounded quickly, and
leapt over Olympias, still trying to get at Falconer. The girl was totally in Hunter mode, focused on ripping mortal prey to shreds. She needed flesh now, not mating blood.

Olympias grabbed Lora by the arm and whirled the young vampire to face her. “Goddess damn it,” Olympias said, and ripped Lora’s chest open.

Lora screamed as her heart was torn out, but the sound didn’t mask the wail of police sirens outside. Olympias glared toward the street entrance of the house as she squeezed the still-beating heart in her bloody hand. This night was not going as she’d planned.

“I hate when this happens,” she said to Mike, who was trying to sit up, with very little success.

Someone was pounding on the front door now, and there was shouting outside as well as the continuing sound of sirens. The residents of Georgetown liked privacy and a low crime rate. The Georgetown police generally showed up at any call in significant numbers to impress upon the wealthy neighborhoods that they were capable of handling anything. Olympias knew they couldn’t handle her, but supposed she shouldn’t be found here with a corpse on her shoulder and a heart in her hand. She glanced toward the broken window and dark backyard beyond. She’d come in by jumping through the open bedroom window on the second floor.

She looked at the injured man, but didn’t have time for sloppy sentiment. “Gotta go. We’ll talk later. Try not to die,” she advised the human. “Don’t discuss this incident with anyone,” she added before she jumped out the window with Lora’s corpse. “Because that will prove fatal.”

She might have blown him a kiss in leaving, but she remembered what she was holding in time. While she might have been incompetent this evening, she was never gross. So she bounded out the window and disappeared into the night instead.

•••

“We’re too late.”

Sara put her hand on Andrew’s arm. “No we’re not.”

Andrew shook her off and pointed toward the emergency medical vehicle blocking the narrow brick street outside the house. “Then explain what that’s doing there.”

Sara glanced up at him and sighed. He was being dramatic and unreasonable. She couldn’t blame Andrew. After all, in a very short space of time he’d heard that his son was alive, rushed here with Sara, carrying her most of the way. Bitch had raced happily beside them, eyes glowing, and scaring the bejesus out of everyone they passed. They’d arrived in front of the Falconer house with pedestrians’ screams ringing in their ears at the same time as the cops, the ambulance, and the crowd. Bitch had sniffed the air, barked once, and disappeared. This was just as well, as the huge dog tended to draw attention. Drawing attention would not be good. In Andrew’s high-strung state, attention from mortals might set off his Hunting instincts.

“The medics are here to take him to the hospital,” she said patiently. She was used to being patient with vampires. It helped keep them from going on rampages. “You already heard the officer tell his neighbors that Colonel Falconer was injured, but alive.”

“What if he’s been bitten? Do you think I want my son to go through the same thing I did? Without any choice?”

Sara looked around anxiously, worried they’d be overheard. There were too many people, too many lights. She’d noticed one or two of the neighbors glance their way, suspicious of strangers. Andrew was scruffy, and she was disheveled. This was not the sort of neighborhood where street people wandered freely. She’d stared hard back at the neighbors, getting them to look away out of force of will, but if Andrew insisted on talking crazy, even in whispers, attention wasn’t going to stay off them for long.

She jerked a thumb toward the deserted shadows, and they moved away from the crowd in front of the house. “He can’t have been bitten,” she said once they were out of the crowd. “He was found alone in the house. No strigoi would leave a new companion alone. He’s been injured. Maybe he fought off the one who wanted him. Olympias said he was a strong psychic. Lora’s a young vampire. He’s been injured, but he’s whole.” She clutched at Andrew’s shoulders. “He’s alive, and he’s going to be all right,” she reassured him.

Her words drew a faint smile from the vampire. He stopped staring toward the ambulance and turned his warm gaze on her. “You’re right. He’s all right. When I concentrate I can hear his heartbeat. He’s in pain, but he’s strong.” Andrew brushed a strand of hair off her forehead and planted a brief kiss on it.

She blinked, and her toes curled. “What was that for?”

“The ghosts are gone. You drove them away, Sara,” he told her. “You are amazing.”

“No I’m not.”

“You gave me my son back.” He chuckled, the sound a low sweet rumble. “You gave me my life back.”

His words set off a small nova inside her. How could a creature of the dark fill her with so much light? This could not be good, but it was so very right. Their beings touched, twined—it must almost be what it was like to be a companion. She tried to misunderstand what he was saying, looking into his eyes the whole time. “You don’t want to die anymore?”

“I’m not going to die,” he answered. He snagged an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I still might be in trouble with Olympias.”

“Protecting your son from becoming an unwilling companion?”

“That might be part of the problem.”

This was bad. Very bad. Why did she feel so good? It was staring into his eyes, wasn’t it? He was a vampire. They had powers. “Part?” she asked.

He smiled. And she thought something inane about whether those were fangs in his pocket or if he was just happy to see her . . . except that fangs . . . were beautiful. His were. Gleaming. Sharp. Sexy.

“Come back to the park with me.”

It was a request. It was her choice. If she did it was probably going to get them both killed. “All right.”

At least she’d die happy.

“Please, Roger, I’d rather be alone now.” Rose sighed wearily. “I have so much I need to think about.”

“I understand,” Bentencourt answered, but he closed the bedroom door and came silently across the thick carpet toward the bed, despite having been told to go away. Rose was sitting on the bed, her back propped up by a thick pile of pillows. There was a book open in her hand, an old, leather-bound diary she frequently reread.

He settled down beside her and took her hands in his. “I don’t want to add to your burden, Rose. Talk it out, if you want. You know I’m a good listener.”

She sighed again. “I’m not a leader. I’ve never been very good at being a leader.”

“People come to you for help. They believe you can lead. I know you can, but you have to believe it yourself.”

She smiled wanly. “You’re sweet to say so, but I know my limitations. I’m not strong.”

He chuckled. It was a deep, rich,
loving
sound. “You’re a vampire, and a nest leader. The first vampire made in this land. You’re a part of the land. There’s strength in that.” He took the book out of her lap and set it aside. “Your strength is rooted in the past, but you’re strong here and now.”

“Alec made phone calls. He was right, I think, to call the other nests, but . . .” She sighed again.

The sound was irritating, but Bentencourt took it as a good sign. “They want to have a meeting?” he asked
gently. “They want you to lead them? As they should. It is your rightful place.”

“I don’t want to be a leader.”

“No good leader ever wants the position fate thrusts on them. Doing what you have to do, what has to be done, that’s what makes a good leader. You have a sense of what is right for the community. You must act on your instincts.”

That drew a faint smile from her. “Darling, if I acted on my instincts—”

“You’d be a queen among vampires.”

“Oh, no. We don’t do that sort of thing—set up personal kingdoms and all.”

“Really?” He projected as much concerned puzzlement as he could. “Perhaps I’ve gotten the wrong impression from the way the Greek woman behaves. She’s set up a fief, but she’s hardly behaved like a leader.” He spoke his next words with all the earnestness he could command. “You’re the leader the nests need. You’re the one to set things right.”

“I—don’t know.”

“Listen to what the nest leaders have to say,” he advised. “You’ll have to seriously consider acting for them if they prefer you to Olympias.”

“Perhaps I will have to talk to Olympias—as the voice of consensus,” she added.

“You’ll do the right thing.” He felt her reluctance melting a little in the face of his belief in her. “I love you,” he told her, twisting the simple truth to his purpose. “You are a good person.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m a vampire, Roger.”

“A just person, then.”

She didn’t try to deny it, was quite flattered, really, to be held up as a paragon of vampire virtues. Virtues that were all weaknesses as far as he was concerned, but what were the virtues and weaknesses of others, but tools for him to use. Whatever he could bend to his purposes, he
would. Right now, he used a soft brush of his lips across hers to draw Rose’s attention further to himself. He deepened the kiss, and let himself adore her for a while. It was easy to do, and made her feel better. Made her more trusting and dependent as well. When he had her aroused just enough, he made slow, gentle, worshipful love to her. He craved the taste of her blood and the heightened excitement that came when her fangs sank into his flesh, but he did not ask for the completion of blood exchange. It was the best way to show his loyalty to her, a proof that he loved her and wanted to stay with her as long as possible. It garnered more trust from her without his having to say a word. It was good to be able to manipulate on the subconscious level when there was a psychic involved.

After they’d made love, he held her close for a while, keenly aware of the passage of time. “Feeling better?” he asked her after an appropriate number of minutes had passed.

“Feeling delicious,” Rose answered. “Not that any of our problems have gone away.”

“I know.” He stroked her hair. “Doing what I can do. I’m here for you.” He sighed. “But—”

Rose raised her head to look at him. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“There’s more to this crisis than you know,” he said slowly. “More you should know if you’re going to speak for the nests. There’s some things I’ve found out—from talking to other companions and dealing with the Greek’s chief slave—that poor girl has the gift to be a companion, by the way, but Olympias chooses to enslave her instead—never mind. I know that’s not anyone’s affair.”