Laws of the Blood 4: Deceptions: Deceptions (19 page)

She’d found Mike Falconer wandering around a darkened mansion that reeked with the concentrated essences of fear and tension. She realized that he was consciously projecting his consciousness, using it to spy on someone. The intense emotions might have drawn her attention if she hadn’t discovered something very significant while following him as closely as his shadow through the rooms and halls of the faraway house.

Olympias had really discovered two significant things. One was that she enjoyed being near the distilled spiritual core of the person who wore the body of Michael Falconer. This came as no surprise and didn’t bear talking about during this meeting she’d arranged here in limbo. Perhaps it was not wise to step into his awareness and let her presence be known, but she had a few
questions about the second thing she’d discovered, so she let him become aware of her presence after he finished his job.

“You’re the ghost,” she said.

“Not unless you’ve killed me, I’m not. Then you’d be dead, too,” he added.

“The party line is that we aren’t dead, just different.”

“We?”

“Never mind. You won’t remember this conversation anyway.” Olympias was relatively certain she had complete control of the situation. She’d managed to slip into the deepest part of his awareness while his attention was elsewhere. She wanted him to confirm what she thought was going on. Then she would go away and decide what to do about him, and what was obviously a government-run psychic spook program.

She moved very close to him. She cupped his face in her hands and let him try to get away from her. After a few moments of being unable to budge, he became very still, staring furiously into her eyes.

“I saw ghosts when I went back to the park the other night. The ghosts of five people. They weren’t ghosts at all, were they? What I saw was a residual image from whatever it is you do. You left similar but fainter images all over the building back there. What is it you do?”

She’d asked the question with all the ability to bend another psychic’s will that was at an ancient Nighthawk’s command. It still took quite a mental struggle before Falconer answered her.

“Walking,” he said. “We call it Walking.”

“You went walking in the park?”

“Yes, but not in the usual way. One of my team devised an experiment to try to find out what happened to me in the park. We attempted to Walk back in time.”

“And what did you see when you Walked back in time?”

“Vampires,” he answered promptly.

“Thought so.” Shit. She stared very deeply into his
eyes, going deeper still into his mind. “But you don’t believe in vampires, do you.” The words were a command, not a question.

His answer was automatic and sincere. “Of course not!”

“You won’t let anyone else on your staff believe in them, either.”

“Of course not,” he answered again. “That would be too dangerous.”

Olympias found that to be a very interesting answer, but she didn’t question it. Instead, she kissed Michael Falconer very thoroughly, spirit to spirit, building a fire of passion between them. She left him with only feelings of desire and pleasure when he thought of her, building up emotions she found already simmering in his mind. She left him the gift of their sharing mutual pleasure and wiped every other memory and suspicion from his head.

She did the best she could do, then she let him go, surprised at her own reluctance to return to her own empty bed.

R
OGER BENTENCOURT PULLED into the carriage house that had long ago been converted into a garage behind Rose’s home, switched off the engine, and sat in the car, composing himself before going inside. He had planned to return home before sunset, to greet Rose in her bed when she awoke, but rush hour traffic had spoiled his plan for private time with his vampire lover. He always felt better when he was with Rose, even though he was painfully aware the peace she brought him was all a result of being allowed to share her blood and body. He made himself sneer at his automatic devotion, but he couldn’t deny the soothing properties of being with Rose. She was beautiful, he very much appreciated her body, though he valued her malleability more. Everyone needed some form of stress relief, his happened to be a silly old vampire.

There were four bays in the large old garage. The household had three cars, and Bentencourt noticed that all three vehicles were in the garage. That meant Alec was home. Bentencourt permitted himself a sigh, but didn’t let it bother him. Alec was an annoyance, but
really only a minor hindrance to the way Bentencourt ran the nest. Fortunately, Alec was greedy, self-involved, and clueless about the true nature of power. Alec would have made a perfect guest on one of those who-wants-to-be-rich-and-famous television game shows. He liked thinking that he knew everything and that making money was the fast, easy way to power.

Alec, like most of the strigoi population, was deeply brainwashed into ignoring their powers, and their superiority to mortals. Bentencourt saw no reason to enlighten the vampire population to their own slavery, not when it came in handy in his own plans to rise to power.

Bentencourt forced down his contempt for Alec. It would not show when he entered the house. He would try to avoid Alec, but he would smile when he next encountered the male vampire, and politely offer Alec another bit of financial advice that would send Alec scurrying out of town once more.

Alec was easy to deal with. Bentencourt’s real annoyance was that his plans were not going as swiftly as he’d hoped they would once he’d set Lora on Falconer. He wasn’t used to being impatient, yet he had to keep reminding himself that it had only been a few days since his scheme had been set in motion. It wasn’t as if the plan was set in stone, or was on a precise timetable. He had to use what there was to work with, find and make opportunities, and be flexible. The basic plan was to take Olympias down and set Rose up as the senior nest leader in the area. It had to appear as though the vampires of Washington had united to overthrow a rogue who abused the Laws of the Blood from her position as an Enforcer and temporarily replaced her with a just, Law-abiding nest leader until the Council could sort things out.

He would be the power behind Rose before and during this period of uncertainty, and he would infiltrate all the other nests with his allies and supporters. Once he ruled the local vampires, they could then quietly infiltrate every branch and bureau of the government with a small army
of slaves he’d persuade his friends were necessary for their own protection from the powerful mortals. He’d always known the Council would send another Enforcer after the coup, but by the time the newcomer settled into the job, Bentencourt would have his moles in place. It would be better if the slaves belonged to him rather than to vampires he influenced, but he had to work with the tools that came to hand for the next few years. The point was to have an organization already in place once he came into his full powers. Start from scratch now, and his rise to power when he made the change would be swift enough to take the Council off guard.

Then—good riddance to the antiquated, outdated, totally ridiculous Strigoi Council. Though he would rather conquer at the head of an army, as he had done in the past life when he had been Philip of Macedon, he would still rule the world. This time the late Philip’s vicious bitch of a wife would not stand in his way. Olympias would not stop him.

Olympias herself had given him ammunition to use against her when she ordered the nests to evacuate their homes. He wished his plan to seduce Sara Czerny were going faster, but the slave was feeding him some useful information. Perhaps she wasn’t the type for subtle manipulation, not that he thought his overtures had been particularly subtle. She didn’t seem to pick up on his hints that her psychic ability was strong enough for her to become a companion, and that he was offering her the chance to be
his
companion once he became a vampire. Perhaps the loyal little slave needed to be presented with evidence of how Olympias had lied to her. Or perhaps Sara had become infatuated with this suicidal vampire she’d told him about and wanted to become this newcomer’s companion.

“Silly fool,” Bentencourt murmured. He got out of the car and headed with measured steps through the garden and toward the house.

He knew full well that Sara was going to belong to
him. Olympias would be disposed of, but Sara was invaluable. Sara was the most powerful Enforcer in the country’s chief of staff. Sara quite literally knew where all the bodies were buried. Sara knew everything there was to know about every nest, strig and, most importantly, every Enforcer in the country. Sara controlled all the slaves already working within the government. Bentencourt
needed
Sara, and he was going to have her. All he needed to do was make her hate Olympias and love him, even before they shared any bloodbond. He wanted her to gladly betray Olympias for him. It appeared this Andrew person might need to be gotten out of the way first, but Bentencourt believed he might have a use for a suicidal vampire.

His frustrations left him as he smiled at this thought. Of course, there was some information he needed first, to see if the scheme was at all viable. Fortunately, he already needed to have a conversation with the one person he knew that took a devoted interest in strigoi history, rumor, and gossip. He truly did value Lora as a member of Rose’s nest. He thought he might even miss her when she was gone.

There were voices raised inside. He stopped to listen in the hallway outside Rose’s sitting room. Shouting was not a sound Bentencourt was used to in this house, but he liked it. Dissent was what the plan was all about. The loudest voice belonged to Alec.

“We can’t pack up and leave!” he shouted. “Our lives are here.”

“I know that far better than you,” Rose countered.

“My livelihood is here. I have investments, business interests.”

“I have deep roots here. I’m in pain, Alec.”

“We all have roots here. Every nest, even the strigs.”

“We don’t talk about them in this house.”

“Maybe we could use their help.”

“Don’t tell me you know how to contact that sort of—creature?”

Alec hesitated, then admitted, “I’ve got a couple working occasional jobs for me.”

Rose’s voice rose. “I forbid it!”

“This is no time to be prejudiced, Rose. We all need to stand together this time. Have you called anyone?”

“Called?”

“Nests. We need to get the nests together. At least you nest leaders need to meet and discuss what you can do. They look up to you.”

“Well, I—”

Bentencourt smiled and walked away. It looked like Alec was taking on one of his jobs for him. It seems the household’s male vampire wasn’t as much of a liability as Bentencourt previously thought. Bentencourt knew the further he could distance himself from responsibility for future events the safer he would be. The point was to gain power by covert means. Misdirection was key.
Thank you, Alec, for your greed, it makes you one of my cat’s-paws without my actually having to recruit you. Thank you, indeed.

There was a spring in his step as he went up the stairs, but he put on a grave, sympathetic air as he knocked on Lora’s door, then went in without waiting for her to answer it.

“Well?” she demanded the moment he walked in. “What did she say?”

The girl was in heat, there was no denying it, and growing mindless with it. Lora needed some kind of release. A Hunt might calm her down, or a violent confrontation to channel off the pent-up energy. Rose could have done something about it. She could have at least given Lora a sound thrashing, or chained her up in one of the outbuildings to keep her from being a danger to herself or the neighbors. But, at his urging, Rose hesitated to interfere. After all, he’d assured his mistress, why hurt or confine the girl when Olympias was bound to decide quickly. Lora had the right to take a companion and to enjoy the release of all her pent-up lust when the
time came. How could Olympias keep the girl from her chosen lover unless she was turning into a territorial dictator? Olympias had allowed Rose to take him as a companion, hadn’t she? And he’d lived and worked in the heart of the city at the time.

When Bentencourt failed to answer Lora instantly, she grabbed him by the shoulders and tossed him across her room. He hit a wall, slid down it to his knees, then hurriedly got up and turned to face her as she slammed the door.

“Good evening,” he offered, holding his hands up defensively before him.

“Well?” she demanded again.

Being alone in a room with a crazed vampire was not a safe thing for a mortal, but Bentencourt would not let himself be afraid. They were emotion eaters as well as blood drinkers. It increased your life expectancy to remain calm around a vampire. “Sit down,” he urged, his voice and manner projecting soothing concern. “You know I’m here to help you. You have to be calmer before we can talk. We need to talk, Lora.” He used all his hypnotic psychic skill to reach her, pacify her, get her to focus on him.

Finally, Lora did sit, perching nervously on the end of her bed. Her gaze was fixed on him. “You know something,” she said. “Tell me.”