“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.”
“It is Olympias’s choice,” Rose answered. “Though it
shows the sort of person she is. She’s a wasteful, arrogant creature, and always has been. What more do you need to tell me?” She sounded irritated. “I really hate the thought of going to sleep with her on my mind.”
“I’m sorry. If you’d rather wait until—”
“No. The meeting’s tomorrow night. Tell me now.”
“There is a companion in one of the nests in need of rebirth. Olympias has done nothing to arrange a Hunt to deal with this.”
“I’ve heard about that.”
“Forgive me. Of course you have. You’ve been in contact with the nest leaders.” He sighed.
“There’s more,” she prompted. “What?”
“This does concern you in a way, which is why I think you should know. Andrew Falconer was once a lover of yours, wasn’t he?”
“Of course he was.” She smiled as she picked up his feeling. “No need for you to be jealous, we were lovers decades ago.”
“But you still have fond feelings for him. I can tell.”
“As I’ll have for you when you leave my bed. What about Andrew?”
“Olympias’s slave talked to me about him. She told me that Andrew petitioned the Enforcer of the City for permission to die, and Olympias has completely ignored him.”
Rose sat up. “Andrew wants to die? How sad. But if that’s what he wants—”
“He’s sought out the proper person to fulfill his wish under the Law, but she hasn’t made the time to pencil him in on her schedule,” Bentencourt told her.
Rose shook her head, and her gaze went to the portrait over the mantel. “She’s ignoring her duty. I don’t believe it.” Another shake of her head. “Yes I do. What does the creature do with her time?”
“Apparently she’s pursuing the same mortal Lora has requested as a companion.”
Her attention swung totally back to Bentencourt. “What?”
“Her slave makes excuses, but that is a slave’s duty. I believe Lora is in danger from Olympias.” He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. At the same time Rose glanced out the window. Now that he was certain that there was no time for Rose to do anything about it, he added his last piece of information. “Lora went out this evening, and hasn’t returned. I fear she might have set herself on a collision course with Olympias.”
“You think Olympias is going to kill one of my nestlings?”
He said, “Let’s hope not.” But the truth was, he certainly hoped so. Even if things didn’t work out as he hoped, he’d certainly given Rose enough worries to chew on while she lay helpless during the long day.
“Sara!” Olympias called as she entered the house. Bitch barely had time to make it through the door before Olympias slammed it closed. “Sara!” she called again, and dumped the body on the hall floor.
Her legs still ached, but the long leaps she’d taken to put as much distance between herself and the crime scene would pay off. Olympias knew that the police would be troubled by finding such a short trail of blood outside Falconer’s house, and the crime lab would be puzzled by the anomalies found in those drops of blood, but nothing would come of the investigation.
Bitch had joined her at some point during the flight. The dog joined her now as Olympias sat down on the stairs. The dog sat on her foot and leaned heavily against her. Olympias rubbed the animal’s ears. She could feel that the house was empty. “Sara!” she called out anyway.
Where had the girl gotten to? She was supposed to be here when she was needed. Olympias stared glumly at Lora. “To help bury the body.”
Why did I kill her? She wondered. Killing’s easy. I should have—
“Admit it.”
All right.
I killed her because I was jealous. Also—Mike was hurt, and that infuriated me.
“If she hadn’t gone for him . . .”
If, if, if. Deal with what is.
“I botched everything. Acted like the greenest Enforcer out there.” Made it personal rather than justice. What was the matter with her? Mike Falconer, she supposed. Damn it. She always screwed up when she let herself care for someone.
Speaking of caring—Olympias lifted her head and shouted again. “Sara!”
Chapter 12
“HANG IN THERE, Mike, you’re going to be okay.”
If that was so, why didn’t he feel like he was going to be okay? The excitedly cheerful voice belonged to Grace Avella. He was horizontal, which was not a good sign. He was in the hospital, wasn’t he? It smelled like a hospital, antiseptic, over-air-conditioned air. He didn’t remember the trip to the hospital, but he did remember how he’d gotten here. “Shit.”
“Oh, good. You’re awake.”
He should have kept his mouth shut. Falconer opened his eyes. Grace stood over the bed. The expression on her pretty young face flitted from concern to curiosity to anger and back again so fast that it made him dizzy. He closed his eyes again, but when he did he became aware of a sensation that resembled someone knocking on his head like it was a door. He wasn’t interested in letting anyone into his mind right now. To ignore the would-be intruder, Falconer turned his attention back to Grace.
“I’m awake.”
“You don’t look so good.”
He didn’t bother replying that he obviously didn’t feel so good. Some memories came back of various medical types poking needles into him and waking him up throughout the night to tell him things when he would much rather have been unconscious than informed. He knew he’d been given a transfusion, that he had broken ribs and several bones in his wrist were also broken. He was lucky his back wasn’t broken—it only hurt like hell. They’d stitched up the deep cuts they believed were from his being mauled by an animal, and were running tests to see if he had rabies. He didn’t think you could get rabies from vampires, but hadn’t mentioned this to the medical staff.
“The police want to talk to you,” Grace said after silence drew out for a while. “They’ve got an officer waiting outside.”
“How’d you get in?”
She grinned. “How’d you think? Nobody noticed me ’cause I didn’t want them to.” She wiggled her fingers and made woo-woo noises. “This psychic stuff can come in handy.”
“I thought I taught you to use your powers only for good.”
“I’m good.”
He grunted and pressed the button that raised the hospital bed to a sitting position. He noticed that the second bed in the room was empty and that the sun was shining outside the large window. His room overlooked a parking lot. How cheery. He was not currently in pain, which meant he must be pretty well medicated. His mind was clear enough, though. “Why’s there a cop outside?”
“They want to know what attacked you. Georgetown is jittery. There was a very large dog spotted in your neighborhood last night. And the media is speculating—as the media is wont to do.”
“Mmm. Anybody from the office waiting to see me?”
“I’m from the office.”
He raised an eyebrow sarcastically. It hurt. “Anyone who outranks me?”
She shook her head. “We’ve got it covered.”
Falconer didn’t like the sound of that, but let her go on without commenting.
“Sela explained to them how she was on the phone with you when it happened. The official story is that she heard someone break in. She said the intruder sounded surprised to find anyone at home. The intruder had what sounded like a large dog with them. From what she heard it sounded like a burglary that went bad rather than some sort of security breach.”
“And they believed her.”
“She only uses her powers for good, Mike. Or for you. We all work for you before we work for the Project. Except maybe Jeremy, but he wants to be in on exposing the existence of vampires for the sake of his career, so he’s hanging with us for the moment.”
Oh, God, vampires. Why had he told Sela about the vampire? Because he hadn’t expected to live for much longer after the vampire chick broke in, he supposed. Which had been a stupid excuse to involve his peopl
e in a dangerous situation.
“I don’t want to talk about vampires,” he told Grace.
Grace looked at him sternly. “Are you going to pretend that they don’t exist?”
“Yes.”
“Why? For the safety of the team?”
“Yes.”
“We saw them when we went Walking, Mike.”
“Linear anomaly.”
“Bullshit. Walking is accurate. Just because we didn’t want to believe in what we saw, doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.”
“We’re all loons,” he answered. “We had a mass hallucination.”
“That hallucination put you in the hospital.”
“I was attacked by a burglar with a large dog. Sela says so.”
“Your FBI friend called. He said the lab tests turned up some weird shit. You want to tell me what he was talking about?”
“No.”
She was not deterred by his stubborn refusal to tell her all about it—and let her help. “We’re going to find them,” she declared. “The Walkers aren’t the only psychics in Washington, you know. We can get help.”
“No help. No taking this out of the group.”
“It’s already beyond the group. In fact, it has nothing to do with the project, or the government. This is humanity versus monsters. We can stop them.”
He remembered the one that had attacked him. He was a big man, and he knew how to fight. The vampire had been a small, fine-boned woman, and she’d tossed him around like she would a doll. And Olympias—Olympias had tossed the other vampire around with even more ease, and then she’d—
Ripped his attacker open with her bare hands and—
“Mike! Mike! Are you going to throw up? Do you want me to call a nurse?”
Laws of the Blood 4: Deceptions: Deceptions Page 17