He stood, slowly unfolding his big body from the chair. She had to look up at him when he was this close to her. She appreciated that he had four or five inches on her. She appreciated his mental strength, and his confidence.
“If I did what I want to right now, you’d be screaming in pain.”
“Destroying my mind?”
“Fucking your brains out.” Olympias moved closer and touched his injured wrist. When he winced she kissed him. Does that make it better? she thought.
His good arm came around her, pulling her close. Does it? he thought back.
Olympias’s arms came around him, and she fitted her body close to his. They both forgot his injuries while lost in sensation for a moment.
He made her forget things, important things. Falconer was a dangerous distraction. “You take up too much of my attention,” she complained, making herself step away from him.
He smiled. “You do the same to me.”
“You shouldn’t sound like you enjoy it. We’re grown-ups.”
“Some of us more than others.”
“We have responsibilities to other people.”
“More or less—people, that is.”
She laughed, when she probably ought to be offended. Damn the man, he made her laugh!
As she laughed, Falconer grew serious. “You’re not doing anything to my people. Whatever happens between you and me, you don’t touch my people.”
He was dictating to her. At another time, or with another person, Olympias would have been coldly furious at the presumption. Or she might have been coldly amused. She couldn’t be cold about anything with Mike. There sure as hell was something about those Falconers.
Falconer—
“Shit!”
“What?” Mike grabbed her shoulders. Bitch growled.
Olympias pulled away from him and turned to face the door. The temptation was to take the hellhound and scour the city. She knew what Sara had been keeping from her. She knew who Sara was with.
“Andrew Falconer,” she said.
“What about my father?” he demanded.
She almost explained, but it occurred to Olympias that Mike wasn’t ready to hear about how a vampire committed suicide. She was going to kill Andrew all right. No one took what belonged to her and lived—but she didn’t suppose she could tell Andrew’s son about that, either. Not when she needed Mike’s help to track his slimy, slave-stealing father down.
“Your father came back to Washington for a reason,” she told Mike. “You’ve been seeing him in your dreamriding.”
“Walking,” he corrected.
“Never mind what you call it, it’s your key to finding your father. It’s time you and I went looking for him together. Sit down,” she ordered. “We’re going to do that thing you do together.”
“Thanks for coming,” Sara said as Gerry slipped into the booth in the hotel coffee shop. “But I wish you’d come sooner. Like before sunset.”
Her beloved was up in the room taking a shower. Much as she wanted to be sharing the experience and scrubbing his hard-muscled naked back for him, Sara had more vital things to do. Things she wished she could have done hours ago, while the fang and claw crowd was harmlessly snoozing.
Curiosity and concern vied on Gerry’s expression. “Why haven’t you called Olympias? You’re the only one who can reason with her. We’ve been worried.”
Sara took a shaky breath. “You’ve talked to Olympias?”
“I had to find out about a vampire from the Alexandria nest getting killed from Bentencourt. The local vampires are really pissed off, and we need your help to calm the situation down.”
He kept saying ‘we,’ but Sara wasn’t sure whom he meant. Gerry had mentioned talking to Bentencourt twice when she’d called him to set up this meeting. Sara sat back in the thickly upholstered booth seat and put her hand down flat on the tabletop. Looking steadily at Olympias’s slave, she said as calmly as she could, “Gerry, please understand that I do not give a rat’s ass about what Roger Bentencourt wants, needs, or desires. My only interest in talking to you right now concerns your mistress, Olympias, the Enforcer of the City.” Her voice rose as Sara added, “You do remember her, don’t you?”
“Olympias is the problem,” he agreed.
“She’s certainly my problem.”
“She’s the whole city’s problem. She has to be controlled, Sara. Brought to heel. Someone who understands the changes that need to be made has to be at the helm. He needs your help,” Gerry told her earnestly.
Sara stared at her friend and working partner. Gerry had a frightening, fanatical look in his eyes. Oh, dear. “He? Bentencourt?”
“Of course. He’s just the man we need.”
“Yeah. He’s a man. We—you—work for a vampire.” A vampire Sara’d hoped Gerry would help her get to and reason with on some neutral ground. “I need you to go to Olympias for me. Set up a meeting. Maybe at the cathedral.”
“Bentencourt needs you. Come with me.” He held a hand out to her across the table. “We’ll go to him now.”
“I don’t think so.”
Sara looked up and smiled at Andrew, who was the one who’d just spoken. He was so beautiful. She was filled with so much longing at the sight of him that she was barely able to keep her mind on the subject. The only thing she wanted to say was that she loved him. She snuggled up close to him when he slipped into the booth beside her. She was overjoyed when he picked up the coffee mug she hadn’t touched and drained it.
“Sorry it’s cold,” she said. “Want me to call the waiter over to—”
“It’s fine.” Andrew put his arm around her shoulders. He looked hard at Gerry. “Who are you? Where do you want to take my companion?”
Sara managed to claw out of her happy fog of adoration to say, “He belongs to Olympias.”
“You don’t have to worry about Olympias,” Andrew told her. To Gerry he said, “Leave.”
“But—” Sara managed to protest.
“I’ll deal with Olympias,” Andrew promised.
“How?” She hated that the word came out as a squeak of terror.
Andrew chuckled. “Legally. That’s how I do everything.”
“Yes, my love. But—”
“Come on.” He slid out of the booth and brought her with him.
“Are you ever going to let me finish a sentence?” Sara asked when she was standing beside him.
“Frequently. But not any about your former mistress, at least not right now.” His arm was still around her, and he turned her toward the coffee shop door, leaving Gerry seated in the booth. “Right now we’re going back to Rock Creek Park to get my stuff, and then we’re going to go introduce ourselves to my son.”
All things considered, what Bentencourt had to work with was pitiful. It was Olympias’s fault, of course. It was her doing that had reduced the population of vampires in the vicinity to the handful that was seated in Rose’s living room this evening. Even though they’d all brought their companions with them, the room wasn’t exactly overcrowded. Three small nests in Alexandria, Bethesda, and Arlington made up the entire local strigoi population. With Lora’s death, that made exactly seven vampires, four companions, and a handful of slaves. What a weak, pitiful bunch of losers—and they were all he had to work with. Which, when he thought of it, was a good thing. For all his gifts, he was still mortal. It would be some years before he was able to raise an army of darkness to serve at his command.
Army of darkness, indeed. He almost smiled at the thought as he sat quietly at Rose’s side on the couch. He noticed Gavivi glance his way from her seat on the piano bench. She’d felt his momentary amusement and canted an eyebrow curiously, wondering at its cause. At least Rose hadn’t noticed. Her attention was on her own conflicted feelings and on the expectant emotions the other vampires were throwing at her. Bentencourt firmed his mental shielding into a tight mask and gave the faintest shake of his head in response to Gavivi. The mortals were slaves and companions, allowed
here only by courtesy—and a great deal of wheedling on his, Gavivi, and Cassandra’s parts.
Cassandra literally sat at her master’s feet, and Sidney Douglas petted her head absentmindedly, like she was a leashed animal at his side. Cassandra enjoyed the attention, and Bentencourt enjoyed the sight of a vampire behaving as tradition dictated. Rose treated her companion with respect and tenderness that hardly ever made him feel owned. Bentencourt had chosen her for her gentleness, was grateful for her care, but when he was a vampire he’d be a proper master, like Douglas.
Bentencourt had high hopes of bringing Douglas onto his team when he was finally able to establish a proper power base, for the nest leader was also one of the most famous of vampire sorcerers, though the antiquated Laws forced him to be more of a researcher than practitioner these days. True vampire power came from a blending of psychic ability and high ritual magic, though many vampires were unaware of this. Bentencourt wanted to learn everything the sorcerer knew before disposing of him. That’s for the future, Bentencourt reminded himself sternly. Concentrate on what needs to be done tonight.
Douglas had brought the two young vampires in his nest with him, punks in sunglasses and leather who went by the names Coyote and Isobel and held hands even though Rose kept giving them stern looks. Gavivi’s mistress, Angela, had brought her nestling Conan along. Alec and Rose were the only ones left from their nest, and both were devastated and furious by the news of Lora’s untimely demise.
It was nearly midnight, witching hour and all that. This gathering had been scheduled for nine o’clock sharp, but no one had arrived before ten-thirty. The regal nod he’d received from Gavivi when he’d opened the door at her nest’s arrival reassured him that at least Gavivi had spent as much time as possible discussing the situation with Angela. He’d used the same time to work on Rose. Now was the time to find out if all his hard work was going to pay off, but how to get the meeting going without making it look like he was the one in charge?
“Can I get anyone anything?” he asked, ever the polite and deferential companion. He started to stand, but Rose put her hand out to keep him in his seat.
“No,” she told him, then looked around the room, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “I don’t think this is quite the moment for my usual hospitality.” She folded her soft white hands in her lap. “I am well aware that I have the reputation of being something of a—I think the modern word is wimp.”
She held up a hand at the faint murmurs of protest from the other nest leaders. Bentencourt was sure Rose was aware that her listeners’ emotions were anything but disagreeing.
There was a tinge of annoyance in her voice as she went on. “I have always preferred to think of myself as a woman of peace. Not an easy thing to be, considering what I am, but I have tried to maintain a veneer of civilization. It has seemed the safest way to deal with the mortal world, I suppose. Still, I am strigoi, and obedient to the Laws. I am also the oldest nest leader in the territory, and a daughter of the Nighthawk line.”
There was a great deal of consternation in the room when Rose dropped this little bomb. Bentencourt gave her an affectionate look when he realized how pleased Rose was at the attention. So, his girl had an ego as well as a sense of responsibility. Vanity and pride were even easier to manipulate than believing one ought to be dutiful. Bentencourt noted the speculation as well, especially from Douglas. Vampires were a competitive bunch when they were allowed to be. Douglas was assessing how he could use Rose. Too late, Bentencourt thought. She’s already spoken for.
The sorcerer might have caught the thought, because his gaze did briefly flicker Bentencourt’s way. But he obviously dismissed the companion’s thought as simple jealousy. Bentencourt was aware of the vampire’s trying to hide his sudden flare of ambition as he concentrated on Rose. Bentencourt was gleeful with the realization that getting this little group to perform exactly as he wished wasn’t going to take the long, hard, tedious, time-wasting debate he’d feared. What he’d done was provide them with the means to scratch itches they already found madly irritating. They didn’t have to hate Olympias as much as he did to want to challenge her right to rule.
“We have so much to discuss I’m not sure where to begin,” Rose went on. “Perhaps by stating that even by holding this meeting we may be in violation of the Laws of the Blood.”
“There is no law against nest leaders conferring with each other,” Angela pointed out. “Nor is there a law against—”
“There’s a law against disobeying the Enforcer of the City,” Douglas cut her off. He gave Rose a hard look. “That is what we’re here for, isn’t it?” What you want, he thought loud enough for even the companions to hear. He looked around at the rest of the vampires. “Olympias has made an arbitrary decision that I, for one, do not intend to obey. My nest is in turmoil enough at the moment.” He tugged on his companion’s hair. She lifted her head and snarled in response. “My nest needs to Hunt, not pack up and move.”
“We could all use a Hunt,” Angela said. “It’s been three years. She could at least let us Hunt once more before she kicks us out of town.”
“I am not leaving,” Rose stated flatly. “I do not jump at the Greek woman’s command.”
“You haven’t Hunted recently, have you?” Angela questioned. Rose shook her head. “Then let us Hunt tonight.”
Douglas laughed. “In a show of defiance? Or because it’s fun?”
“Yes, and yes,” Angela said. “And for two other good reasons. Your girl needs to kill, and there are mortals who need to be Hunted. I’m sure Olympias hasn’t mentioned this to anyone—I doubt she’s even aware of the danger, since she leaves it to her slaves to deal with what goes on in her city—but I have information that a group of mortals have become aware of our existence. Something must be done to neutralize any threat from these people.” She spoke to Douglas. “How’s that for prey for your pretty one’s first kill? It’s our right to take down mortals who hunt us.”
“That is the Law,” Rose agreed. “Olympias has abused the laws more than enforced them of late. She murdered my nestling Lora last night. She has not seen fit to tell me why. The only conclusion I can draw is that she decided to take the mortal Lora wanted as a companion for herself rather than searching out a new plaything. If Lora had not already asked permission to have this mortal, a fight over him between herself and Olympias would have been lawful, but . . .” Rose’s voice trailed away in a despondent sigh. “Olympias simply killed her.”
“But a fight to the death over a lover?” Angela asked. “That’s ridiculous. There are too few of us to kill over a bunny.”
While Rose frowned at the use of the slang term, Sidney Douglas sneered and suggested, “Maybe the Nighthawk wanted Lora for a snack. Get rid of a rival and fill her larder at the same time. How efficient,” he drawled sarcastically.
“Don’t be disgusting, Sidney,” Rose rebuked him. “Remember that the dead girl lived in my house.”
“She’s meat now,” he replied coldly. “We’re vampires, Rose,” Douglas reminded her. “We kill our mortal cousins—living, sentient creatures of God, with souls and hopes and families. And we eat them.”
“They’re delicious,” Angela added.
If either nest leaders were trying to provoke Rose, Bentencourt caught no surprise in their reactions when she laughed. “I like mine with mustard,” she agreed. “I know what I am, Sidney. But I don’t kill nice people. I don’t worry about a victim’s soul when I’m ripping into their living flesh. I enjoy the fear and pain as much as any of you. I simply don’t see any reason to discuss it in polite company. Nor do I wish to become meat for an Enforcer myself.”
“You could become an Enforcer,” Douglas said. He pushed Cassandra away and came to his feet. All the other vampires looked at each other, then at Rose, then at him. “Think of it, Nighthawk’s Daughter,” he said to Rose. “It is you who could be the Enforcer of the City. The city you love. Replace the one the Europeans imposed on us. She is stri
goi. The law of conquest applies to her as much as it does to any of us. If we band together to take her down, hold her subordinate to us, then one of us can take her status, her place.”
“That is done with nest leaders,” Angela said, not quite a protest. “Taking over a nest is one thing—is it even possible to replace an Enforcer?”
“With another Enforcer,” Douglas said. His compelling gaze never left Rose’s.
“But . . . but . . .” Angela sputtered. “We’d need to present a case to the Council.”
“Would we?” Douglas wondered.
“We have a case,” Rose said. “She’s killed a vampire without good cause. She’s renounced her authority over us by arbitrarily exiling us from our rightful territory.”
“She hasn’t done anything about the mortals who are hunting us,” Angela added. “She hasn’t called any Hunts.”
“This is very interesting,” the young male vampire, Coyote, spoke up. “Sounds like a lot of fun, even, but—”
“—but a vampire has to die for an Enforcer to be born, even us kids know that much,” Isobel cut in. She looked over her sunglasses at the other vampires in the room. “Maybe you guys aren’t thinking about asking for volunteers, but I for one, haven’t done anything that would allow me to be lawfully sacrificed.”
“Nor I,” Conan spoke up.
“If we’re going to replace a corrupt Enforcer, we ought to do it strictly legally,” Coyote added. “I don’t want to get eaten for the cause, either.”
“If it is done, it will be Lawfully,” Rose promised. She looked at Alec, who’d so far kept out of the conversation.
Bentencourt had expected Alec to be vociferous on the subject of moving away from his business interests, but other than helping to organize the meeting, Alec had stayed out of it. Wise, cautious move on his part, Bentencourt decided. Alec was a creature of self-interest; the type of power he craved was of the financial sort. Bentencourt judged that Alec would jump whichever way seemed the most helpful to his monetary interests.
“What do you want from me?” Alec asked Rose. “To invite a strig to dinner? The ones I know work for me.”
Laws of the Blood 4: Deceptions: Deceptions Page 20