Laws of the Blood 4: Deceptions: Deceptions (33 page)

Olympias looked at her. The nest leader was disheveled, bruised, blood-spattered, all magic and energy drained from her for the moment with the devastating turn of events. Olympias had been going to kill her a few minutes ago. It would have been easy then, a routine matter of dispensing the swift justice of their kind. Only it turned out Rose was one of Orpheus’s kids. Had to be, or how else had she come to be a member of the Nighthawk line, and possess the dagger? Rose wasn’t a thief, and Orpheus had always been uncomfortable with silver
daggers becoming the symbol of the Enforcer organization. The original hippie had never been comfortable with the idea of organized government.

“He’s not an establishment kind of guy, is he?” Olympias asked, pressing the dagger hilt back into Rose’s limp hand.

“Bentencourt?” Sara asked.

“Our bloodsire,” Olympias clarified.

Rose lifted the dagger, though it seemed to weigh a ton. “You want me to kill Roger with this?”

“Hell, no,” Olympias answered. “He doesn’t deserve the honor.” Olympias sniffed the air for companion scent as well as searched the area with her psychic senses. Angela’s girl was sticking close to her mistress’s side, and Angela was standing quietly where Olympias had left her, with Bitch standing guard over the rebellious nest leader. Sara was right here, her newly altered state shining out of her as bright as a new penny. “Hmph,” Olympias muttered and turned her concentration farther afield.

“He’s heading out of the park,” Rose announced. She turned and pointed back toward the wooded ravine that went steeply down to the pathways that ran along the creek. “I can feel him moving away from me.”

“Toward Adams Morgan?” Sara suggested.

“Lots of mortals that way,” Andrew added. “Not a good place for vampires to cause a scene.”

“He won’t get that far,” Olympias promised. She whistled for her dog. “Stay here,” she ordered, and she and Bitch took off toward the woods.

“Wait here,” Andrew ordered Sara and ran after the Enforcer.

Sara and Falconer exchanged looks as the supernatural beings disappeared in a blur of motion. His father’s girlfriend gave him a wild grin. Falconer shrugged, and they followed Olympias and Andrew after the quarry.

Why aren’t I calling in the Special Forces? Falconer wondered as he ran. Somewhere along the line he’d totally shed the military skin he’d worn most of his life
and slipped easily into the weird underground loony bin where he must have always belonged. He was a loon. Loons didn’t belong working for the government. Loons had to stick together. Besides, never mind that they were vampires, you couldn’t call in an air strike on your family. All he could do was help the vampires save the world from some guy with delusions of godhood, he guessed.

All was not yet lost. No matter how bad it seemed, there were contingencies, different ways to achieve his goals. Rose was too weak, and Sara proved useless. Grace was a selfish child, Angela a coward, and Douglas unbelievably easy to kill. If not for the weak tools at his disposal, Olympias would be in his power now, Bentencourt told himself as he moved cautiously down the steep slope.

He had to move carefully. He might be away from the killing field, but he certainly wasn’t out of danger. He feared falling or a sprained ankle almost more than he did the inevitable pursuit. He knew he could get away if—

If, if, if, there were many dangers yet facing him tonight, but he knew he had a chance. If Olympias killed Rose, then it was all over. If the psychic backlash from her death didn’t kill him it would certainly fry his brain. Olympias could hunt him down at her leisure, then, for he would be as helpless as she was during the daylight. Rose wasn’t dead yet, so he had hope that Olympias would be talked out of such a usefully ruthless act by Sara. He’d only stayed crouched next to the fence long enough to hear the beginning of the argument. With each passing second that brought him closer to the walking trails he grew more certain that Olympias had made the mistake of being merciful.

He would survive if he made it to somewhere populous and public. There was a chance she’d try to kill him in a crowd, but it would be more dangerous for her. Olympias had to protect the knowledge of the strigois’
existence at all cost. She was limited in what she could do among people.

He would survive if he had enough time. Come the dawn, the danger to him would be over, and the danger to Olympias would just be beginning. He knew where all the vampires lived. The nests were weakened. He could move through the daylight and dispose of all that remained at his leisure. He’d kill Olympias first. He should have done so already, but the plan to play kingmaker had seemed so much safer until he put it in action.

They were all too weak. That was why vampires did not rule the world: they were cowards, fools, and weaklings. Bentencourt knew he would do better next time. He’d hunt up one of Alec’s strig friends, convince the lawless vampire to turn him and protect him until he could function on his own. Chances were good that he could—

“Hi, there,” Olympias said behind him.

In front of him, two glittering points of fire coalesced into a pair of inhuman eyes.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Andrew Falconer spoke on Bentencourt’s left.

Fear and adrenaline spiked at the sights and sounds coming out of the dark. Bentencourt dashed to the right, but his foot caught in the undergrowth, and he went down. There was nowhere for him to run, but Bentencourt scuttled away on his back, using hands and feet to move down the steep hill. They let him move a short distance, savoring their love of the chase, no doubt. He wasn’t going to give up.

Then the glittering eyes loomed over him again, and he made out the huge head and sharp muzzle of the largest dog he’d ever seen.

Bentencourt threw up an arm to protect against the animal’s fangs, but it didn’t attack. Instead, Andrew grabbed the arm and dragged Bentencourt to his feet. Bentencourt looked at the vampires, expecting to see fangs and claws set to rip him apart. The pair hadn’t
bothered to change. He was only a mortal after all.

“You’re nothing,” Andrew answered the thought.

“I nearly got you killed,” Bentencourt spat back. He wasn’t going down begging for his life. He turned to face Olympias. “I nearly had you in my power.”

“Nearly don’t count, hon,” she answered, and smiled that familiar, triumphant smile. “In this town winning is all that matters. I dreamed about you a few nights ago,” she added. “Well, not you.”

“I am Philip of Macedon!” Bentencourt proclaimed.

“No. You’re dog meat.” She looked at the huge hellhound. She said, “Bitch. Kill.”

Falconer arrived with Sara as the hellhound’s muscles bunched, and Bitch leapt. When he heard the sound of the dog’s fangs snapping shut in the man’s throat, Falconer very nearly threw up. Somehow, this killing affected him more than watching Olympias rip out vampire hearts.

“Fluffy?” he whispered and the memory of Olympias saying
“She’s nice until I tell her not to be”
floated through his mind. Now he knew what Olympias meant. Bentencourt died quickly, and Bitch licked blood off her muzzle and trotted back to Olympias. At least the hellhound didn’t seem to have any interest in eating her kill. Which was more than could be said for vampires.

“She prefers dry dog food,” Olympias answered Falconer’s thought. “Did that man taste nasty?” she asked the dog, bending down and rubbing Bitch’s head and ears. “You want a big treat and my best pair of shoes to chew when we get home? I think you deserve that. Stay,” she then told Bitch, and turned to Andrew. “Your turn.”

There was a blur of movement, and the next thing Falconer saw was his father pinned to a tree, with Olympias’s hand around the other vampire’s throat. Falconer took a step forward, and Sara rushed past him.

Olympias poked a finger against Andrew’s chest. “You took what’s mine,” she told him.

“I did not!” he shouted. “Not exactly,” he added, with
a sudden calm Olympias found infuriating.

Sara tugged on her arm. “Let us explain. Please.”

Olympias glanced at Sara. The girl was crying, but her spirit shown with defiance.

Andrew managed to speak again before Olympias could smash his throat. “Maybe Sara belonged to you once, but barely. It had been years since you touched her. You can’t maintain a relationship without sharing blood—even with a slave. But if you shared blood, she wouldn’t be a slave, she would have been your companion. You didn’t want it, you never told her, but she deserved it. She gave you her loyalty—”

“I still do,” Sara rushed to put in. She still clung to Olympias’s arm. “You don’t need me the way Andrew does, but you do need me.”

“You need me too,” Andrew added.

Olympias didn’t know what they were talking about. She didn’t know why she was listening. It had been a hell of a night. She was exhausted, even with the fresh blood and sense of triumph coursing through her. It wasn’t that long until dawn, and all she wanted to do was take Mike home, have a fantastic bout of sex, then sleep like the dead while Sara—

“Who do you think’s going to clean up tonight’s mess?” Sara jumped into Olympias’s revelation. “You?” Sara laughed. There was only the slightest edge of hysteria in it.

“Let me go,” Andrew said, far too calmly for someone in his situation. The young vampire certainly had presence.

Olympias backed off. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t kill him anytime she wanted. It was disgusting the way Andrew and Sara rushed into each other’s arms. Olympias crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Talk,” she told the happy couple. “Fast.”

“You could kill me,” Andrew admitted. “Though custom dictates that what I did was not a killing offense.”
He held up a hand before Olympias could respond. “A fine would be more appropriate.”

“A fine?” And who was this kid to tell
her
what was lawful and appropriate?

Andrew nodded. He had his arm protectively around Sara’s shoulders. “I should have asked to buy Sara from you first, but you know how irrational we can behave when the companion bond forms. Sara is my first companion. I reacted to the need before thinking through the consequences.”

Olympias considered telling Andrew that his nose was starting to grow, but said, “Go on.”

“If you kill me, you’ll lose Sara. You cannot afford to lose Sara. And I think you need me for several other reasons.” He glanced toward Mike. “Him, for one.”

“I wouldn’t take it kindly,” Falconer spoke up. “I don’t want to find out my father is alive—undead?—only to lose him before I find out whether or not
I
should drive a stake through his heart. Give us a chance to get to know each other. By the way, I feel like I’m marrying into the Addams family,” he added.

“Marrying?” Maybe it would be easier to kill all three of them and run away and hide somewhere. Olympias spared Mike Falconer a glare. “We’ll talk about us in a minute.” She turned her attention back to Andrew Falconer and Sara. “I know I need Sara,” she had to admit. “But what good will she do me as your companion?”

“I can still work for you,” Sara spoke up. “I love my job, Olympias.” She squeezed Andrew’s waist. “You’re overworked. You need help. Andrew’s a Nighthawk.”

“What?” Olympias shouted, and thought the word came out loud enough to be heard the length of the park.

“I didn’t know it until tonight,” Andrew went on in his infuriatingly calm way. “I had planned to offer my services to you in any way you wanted to use them. To purchase Sara’s companionship the way Jacob worked to acquire Rachel.”

“How—biblical,” Olympias replied.

Andrew shrugged. “I used to hang out in Miriam’s nest. Speaking of nests,” he went on. “You’ve acquired one tonight, you know. With Douglas gone and Angela not exactly trustworthy, the pair from Douglas’s nest need someone to take them in. Rose isn’t capable of running a nest right now.”

“I can arrange to send Rose out to Helene Bourbon’s in Oregon to recover,” Sara piped up, showing her usefulness.

“I don’t want a nest. I’ve got too much to—”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Andrew hurried to state his case. “Sara’s told me about how much you are personally responsible for, how much you have to delegate, how thin your resources are. If you keep doing things as you have been, others like Bentencourt are going to try to take advantage of the situation. Don’t send the local vampires away. Show me how to be a Hunter, train me as junior Enforcer. I know I’m not ready to make the change yet, but I can keep an eye on the locals. Sara, the other slaves, and the nestlings can serve as needed. And you and—” Andrew gave a not altogether approving glance between Olympias and Mike. “You and my son seem destined for a commitment. From your treatment of Sara, I guess you’ve tried not to take companions for a while. You know how that always turns out. You end up with the bond when you least expect it. Companion relationships work out best for the long term in a stable household.”

Maybe she would kill the self-righteous little fangboy. Kids on their first companion were always so know-it-all smug about relationships. She wanted to be around when Sara changed and went off to lead a life without him. How content with the status quo would he be then? Would he mouth platitudes about Laws and curses and all that goddess worshipping crap she was sworn to uphold?

“So you want to become an Enforcer?” she asked him,
aware that this might be just the punishment Mr. Andrew Falconer the prim and proper deserved.