Laws of the Blood 4: Deceptions: Deceptions (30 page)

He stroked her hair. “Of course it is, sweetheart. We’re vampires.”

That was it—and it wasn’t. “There’s more going on,” she told her lover. “I feel it. I never trusted my intuition until I met you, but this time . . . Andrew, this is a trap.”

“I realize that. But for who? Olympias?” He nudged the stranger’s mutilated body with his foot. “Him? Set by who? We have to find the Hunters before we can stop them and find out what’s going on.”

Sara banged her head against his shoulder. Andrew was turning into a hero. While part of her found this utterly romantic, the saner side of her wondered how a vampire who’d been depressed enough to want to die a few days before could suddenly want to go off and save the world.

“Love of a good woman,” he replied to her thoughts. He tilted her face up to his and kissed her. “Perks a man right up,” he told her when his lips drew away from hers. “Let’s go, shall we?”

She could feel darkness moving through the park. Even she could sense the hunger all around. Evil was all around, about to burst out of control. He was right, the violence needed to be leashed. Someone had to make the effort to stop it. “You’re going to get us both killed.”

“Not by this lot,” he reassured her. “Olympias—that’s another matter. Let’s deal with one crisis at a time.”

Sara reminded herself that she was used to crises, to putting out fires that could engulf mortals and immortals alike. Because the fangs, claws, and killings were no longer at a distance didn’t mean she couldn’t deal with
them—somehow. She forced down the urge to panic, and offered Andrew a wan smile. “What do we do?”

“Find them first,” Andrew answered. He glanced in the direction of the creek. “That won’t be hard.”

Falconer might have lost sight of Olympias, but he had no trouble tracking where she was headed. He accepted the psychic link without question, at least for now. Maybe they’d have time to talk about it later. He made his way down the hill to one of the walking paths, moving swiftly through patches of moonlight and shadows, distracted by the thought that he wasn’t sure following her was a good idea. He needed to find his loons and get them out of danger. He didn’t want Olympias to find them without his being present. There was no telling what would happen if she found them before the Hunting vampires did.

He considered trying to use the cell phone to contact Grace, but worried that its ringing might alert the hunting pack to her whereabouts. Besides, even with her number on speed dial, it would take precious seconds of fumbling with the phone that could be used catching up with Olympias.

When the pair of people came hurtling around the curve of the asphalt path, Falconer couldn’t do anything but jump out of the way. He didn’t move into the shadows under the trees fast enough to avoid a confrontation. One of the runners saw him and turned a frightened glance his way.

“Mike! Is that you? Oh, my God, it is!” Grace’s words came out on a sob, and she lunged toward him.

“Shh . . . Ow!” Falconer couldn’t stop the cry of pain as Grace’s arms came around him in a fierce hug. He could barely breathe from the agony by the time she backed away.

“Sorry! What are you doing out of the hospital? Do you know where we are?” Grace asked as Donald came panting up beside her. Donald signed, while Grace talked.
“What are you doing here? I’m sure Roger’s working with the vampires. I think we’re somewhere between the zoo and Connecticut Avenue, but I keep getting turned around. It’s like this darkness comes washing over me, and I sort of hear voices in my head calling to me, and I run away from the voices. When the dark recedes I’m all turned around again.” She leaned close to Falconer and whispered. “I think they’re playing with my head. I’m pretty sure Jeremy’s dead,” she added, and started to cry. “And I don’t know why Donald and I haven’t been separated. What are you doing here?” Grace asked again.

This time, she paused long enough to let him answer. “Let’s go.”

Grace looked like she was going to hug him again. She refrained and said, “Can you find a way out? Aren’t they messing with your head too?”

“No one messes with his head but me,” Olympias said, appearing suddenly behind Grace and Donald. Grace opened her mouth to scream, but Olympias’s hand covered her face before the girl could make any more noise. “Talkative little thing, isn’t she?” Olympias asked Falconer. “Don’t stare at me like you think I’m about to snap her neck, Mike.” Donald spun around as she spoke, and Olympias smiled at him.

Falconer could make out the young man’s profile, and was surprised when Donald smiled at the tall vampire woman. Olympias nodded to Donald. “Telepathy has its uses,” she said to Falconer and slowly eased her hand away from Grace’s mouth. “I’m not going to hurt anyone for the next few minutes.”

“She can talk to Donald,” was the first thing Grace said to Falconer.

“I figured that out,” Falconer replied. He kept his wary attention on Olympias. “These are my people,” he told her. “I’m here to protect them.”

“Where are the other vampires?” Grace wanted to know. “I can’t feel them in my head right now. Does that mean we can get away? Please!”

“Where are they?” Falconer asked Olympias. He looked around. “Where’s Bitch?”

“Tracking the pack. I think they’ve spotted more important prey than mortals.”

Realization jolted through Falconer. “My father? They’re after my father.”

Olympias nodded. “Don’t know what’s up, but I can feel magic starting to build like a thunderstorm growing in my mind.”

Falconer rubbed his forehead. “Feels like something trying to pull the power out of me.”

“We were lured into a trap,” Grace spoke up.

“I think we all were,” Olympias answered. “I’m doing the best I can to keep other mortals that were in the park out of it.”

“Is that why the place seems dark and forbidding when I look around?” Falconer asked Olympias. “You’re sending out psychic vibes to keep people away, aren’t you?”

Olympias nodded. “Trying to. Can’t put as much attention into it as I’d like, though.”

“Is this the vampire that saved you?” Grace asked Falconer. “Is she one of the good guys? Do you trust her?” It was Donald who answered, signing to Grace. “One telepathic dip into your head and you trust her? Don, you’re easy.”

“You’re all going to have to trust me for now,” Olympias told them. She wasn’t speaking to anyone but Falconer when she said, “I want your help.”

B
AD IDEA. DEFINITELY a bad idea,
Sara thought as she and Andrew raced across a baseball field with the Hunters on their heels.

He was the one doing the racing, holding her in his arms. She didn’t know if her weight slowed him down; she did know that looking over his shoulder gave her far too good a view of the slathering creatures, which wasn’t a reassuring sight. There were too many fangs, claws, and animal eyes glowing in the bright moonlight. The companions racing in the rear to keep up with the monsters added to the size of the pack. Every nest in the area must have turned up for this party.

Andrew was right in that finding the vampires hadn’t been hard. Getting their attention had been easy. Reasoning with them wasn’t likely. Andrew had shielded her behind him when they approached. The gathered nests had turned to stare. Shadows swirled around them, with magic rising like sparks into the shifting darkness. There was the reek of blood on the wind. There was stillness like death.

Then someone with a mouth full of fangs shouted, “Sacrifice!”

Sara saw the faintest glint of silver spark off a silver blade. Then the Hunters rushed toward them. Andrew slung her over his shoulder and ran.

“Why this rebellion?” she asked the night, trying for reason rather than giving in to the urge to scream like a banshee. “What do they want?”

“Us,” Andrew answered. He wasn’t even breathing hard.

“Me?” she questioned. She was mortal. Maybe they’d recognized her as Olympias’s slave and wanted to slice and dice her because of that association. “Then put me down,” she begged her lover. “Save yourself!”

“Us,” he repeated. “Can’t you feel them calling? They’ve got their claws in my mind.”

“They want you to join them? Then—”

“I wish.”

Oh, dear. They wanted him? There had been a silver knife. “Only Enforcers carry silver blades.”

“I know.”

“But Olympias isn’t—”

Andrew was tackled from behind before she had a chance to finish. He flung Sara as far as he could away from him as he fell. She hit the ground hard on one shoulder and rolled and rolled, coming to rest on her stomach, covered in dew, her knees and hands scraped by grass burns. It was a minor pain, and she had no time for it. Sara jumped to her feet, but there was nowhere to run. The pack was already spread out in a circle around them.

“Game’s over,” she heard a man’s voice cut through the sudden bays of triumph.

Sara spun toward the voice and found Andrew. He stood in the center of the circle. A trio of vampires stood before him, with one of the companions hovering nearby. Sara recognized the mortal.

“Bentencourt.”

She wasn’t sure if she’d spoken, or aimed a jab of hatred at the man when she recognized him, but Roger Bentencourt looked her way and waved his fingers at her in supercilious greeting. Rose’s companion radiated smug confidence Sara would have found infuriating if she didn’t have more to worry about at the moment. Her beloved was in trouble, and she wanted nothing more than to run to him and throw her body between him and those who threatened him. This, of course, would be a stupid, useless maneuver, and Sara kept still and silent, trying to think of something useful she could do to help.

She watched as Andrew looked at each of the vampires in turn, while he lifted his hand slowly and cautiously to push hair back out of his face. “What can I do for you?” he asked, seemingly quite calm.

Sara was surprised when the trio of vampires let him get up, and was very frightened at the way they surrounded him. They were smiling too much, too triumphantly. Everything about them was sharp and glittering. It wasn’t just the claws and fangs. Everything about the monsters cut; their smiles were edged like broken glass; their gazes stabbed. Their hunger was palpable, a sick perverted craving they’d turned on one of their own kind. Sara knew it was so, but didn’t understand it. Why had the pack chased them down? No, not them, the Hunt had been for Andrew. For now no one noticed her existence but Bentencourt. They wanted Andrew. Vampires did not Hunt vampires. She knew this for a fact—it was the Law. Maybe it wasn’t exactly a Law—the Law was that vampires didn’t kill vampires. Enforcers stepped in and did very permanent things to vampires that tried to kill each other. They couldn’t want to kill Andrew, Sara reasoned, trying to reassure herself.

They did other things to each other, though, didn’t they? Perfectly lawful, but perfectly awful things.

Why Andrew?

“No,” she whispered. “Please.” Where was Olympias? Surely the Enforcer wouldn’t let—

“She’d hardly be interested in helping you,” Bentencourt said, suddenly by Sara’s side. She’d been so intent on watching Andrew, she hadn’t noticed the companion come up beside her. He took her by the arm, his grip painfully tight. “She’s never been interested in helping anyone but herself. Believe me, I know.”

“How would you know?” Sara demanded, seething with anger for Olympias’s sake.

He laughed quietly. “Still loyal to your mistress?” He gestured toward Andrew. “How can that be? Congratulations,” he added. “I see you achieved what you wanted.” Of course Bentencourt recognized that she was a companion, one automatically knew one’s peers within the strigoi community.

“Not loyal to my mistress, but to my friend,” Sara said, realizing the truth as she spoke it. It was a good truth, but this was no time to explore it, or figure out how to convince Olympias of the advantages of this change in their relationship. This was the time to be concentrating on getting out of this mess.

“Hmmm,” Bentencourt responded to Sara’s declaration and moved away to linger on the edge of the group surrounding Andrew.

Sara thought about the risks for a moment, then followed Bentencourt to stand silently in his shadow. She might be closer to the danger, but it gave her a better view of Andrew.

Andrew held his hands at his side, his body language as unthreatening as possible. “Hello, Rose,” he said. Sara followed his gaze as he glanced down. She gasped when she saw Rose Shilling’s clawed hand wrapped around the hilt of a long silver dagger.

“I’m going to give you peace,” Rose answered.

“I think there’s been a mistake.”

Andrew took a step backward, but the others followed. The other vampires moved to surround the group in a loose circle, staying out of the way, but able to cut off any attempt at escape.

“You want to die,” Rose said to Andrew.

“We appreciate your sacrifice,” Sidney Douglas spoke up.

Andrew’s gaze flicked to the male nest leader. “Hi, Sid. Still practicing the black arts?”

“I gave up practicing blood magic,” Douglas answered, giving Andrew a triumphant smile. Triumph and cruel anticipation wafted off him like psychic perfume. “Since I got it right a long time ago.”