Laws of the Blood 1: The Hunt (10 page)

Yevgeny was right. She was distracted. Or maybe it was just some kind of residual guilt popping to the surface at what she’d been doing with Selim. She didn’t have time for guilt. And what was that boy doing on his living room floor? What had he been doing that tired him out like that? She concentrated on finding out, on settling onto him, softer and more encompassing than the blanket he was wrapped in. Never mind that Yevgeny’s body now covered hers. She settled into Selim.

Dream it all out, my child,
Valentine whispered.
Tell Mama why you’re so sad.

“Okay, I admit to being a hypocrite,” Siri said. She paced back and forth across the living room with the phone held to her ear while her friend waited patiently for her to continue.

Siri lived and worked in a stately old house in Pasadena. She was a matchmaker; an old-fashioned job, perhaps, but she made a good living at it. While she used all the latest in electronic gadgets to impress her clientele, she relied on a natural-born talent for putting people together. Even when her own world began to fall apart, her hit ratio among human couples hadn’t suffered. She hadn’t been open for business today, hadn’t returned any client calls or E-mail. What did it matter if she helped people find true love when Selim thought it was perfectly all right to feast on any mortal that happened to be in the neighborhood when he was feeling peckish?

“It’s not as if I didn’t know that they kill people,” she went on. “I know they get off on stalking people.”

“It’s part of the hunting instinct.”

“But I saw what they do to any human who dares to stalk them. And what he plans for this young actress is completely unacceptable. And it’s my fault. I took her problem to Selim. If she dies, it’s going to be my fault. I can’t warn her. I mean, who believes in vampires, for God’s sake?”

“Siri, maybe you should come over.”

This was not a conversation she should be having on the phone. At the very least, she should be using euphemisms. Security was always an issue. Secretiveness imperative for survival. Face-to-face was always the preferred communication method among them, or mind-to-mind. “You know that’s
forbidden
,” she reminded Cassie.

“Not for you.”

“Not for the Enforcer’s companion, you mean. I’m not. We broke up.”

Cassie’s laughed sharply. “Yeah, right.”

She was wearing a hole in the carpet with her pacing. She hadn’t been able to sleep today. She’d called Cassie the instant the sun set. “Really,” she told Cassandra. “Selim doesn’t care. You know what he’s been like lately.”

“Inattentive?”

“He’s a heartless bastard. Besides, I’ve met someone else.”

Cassie laughed again. “Sure you have.”

“I have.” She made herself think about the arrogant blond. It wasn’t easy. She told herself she was just too used to thinking about a skinny Egyptian jerk. “He’s a companion. Gorgeous—in an Aryan master race kind of way. He
was
a companion, actually. Knows exactly what I’ve been going through.”

“How?”

“Some strig dumped him.”

“What strig?”

“I don’t know. Yevgeny won’t tell me.”

“You can’t just dump a companion.” Cassie was outraged. “It’s—”

“Against the rules. I know.”

“It’s against nature.”

“So’s being what you are.”

“Thank you very much.”

“It’s not your fault. Yevgeny wants to see me,” Siri hurried on before she and her best friend got into an argument. “He’s interested. Says he hangs at the Viper Room, and I should meet him there. I’ve never been to the Viper Room. What should I wear? Something black?”

“Black is good . . . since you’ll be going to this guy’s funeral when Selim finds out about it.”

That sounded so sweet. It just didn’t ring true right now. “I don’t know if I’m going,” she told Cassie. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” About anything. The phone signaled, and Siri sighed. “Got another call.”

“It might be Selim.”

If it was, she’d hang up. Surely she had enough independence left to do that. Time to forget about Selim. Move on. “It might be work,” she told Cassie. “I’m going to concentrate on my work for now.”

“And hope the Hunt passes you by?”

Siri didn’t answer the question. She hung up on the vampire. There was a vampire on the other line, but it wasn’t Selim. She hung up on him anyway.

“You’re having trouble with your love life.” It wasn’t a question.

Selim put his feet up on the couch and shifted the phone to his other ear. He’d woken up from a day filled with really bad dreams to the sound of a ringing telephone. He hadn’t expected the voice he heard when he answered, but he adapted quickly. “It happens,” he responded. “Everybody has problems.”
Bloodsucking fiends are people, too,
he added to himself. He didn’t mention this thought to the caller. Don Tomas wasn’t exactly famous for his sense of humor.

“This is no time for it to happen.”

Selim did not appreciate the reminder. “I need her eyes and ears and other gifts,” he agreed.

“You need to be clearheaded when the rest of us can’t be.”

“Thank you very much for that reminder, Don Tomas,” Selim answered acidly. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you take over my job in this town?”

Selim expected outrage in response, arrogant denial that Tomas Avella was
that
kind of man. Or at least haughty silence. Instead Don Tomas answered, “Cassandra would like that.”

Selim’s feet hit the floor with a painful thud as he sat up quickly. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

“That there would be no vampires in this town if I could hunt them.”

“Tomas—” Selim warned. “Careful.” That the old vampire felt no compunction about using such blunt language over the phone shook Selim.

Tomas took no heed. “I would do anything to protect my son. To protect my family. They’ll kill him if they get the chance. You know that.”

Selim shuddered. Had Tomas been walking inside his dreams today? Or were they sharing a dream? Or was there a vision they were sharing? He was too polite to ask, but he did promise, “I won’t let that happen.”

“I prefer the safety of my loved ones to be in my own hands, Selim. I’ve already sired a monster. I could change into one for his sake.”

“No, you couldn’t, Tomas. Do you really want to?”

“No. Got your attention, though, didn’t I, Hunter?”

Selim relaxed. He laughed. The sound was unconvincing to his ears, but acknowledging Don Tomas’s words as a joke was better than pursuing them as treason. Don Tomas would never have been so direct, so out of line, if the bloodburn wasn’t starting in him. People said stupid things when the hunger got them. Got reckless. They all thought they could rule the world, have everything their hearts desired, run in the daylight just because they wanted to.

“You’ve reminded me to look out for Sebastian,” he told Don Tomas. “Believe me, I will.”

“With your thoughts distracted by your own problems? Can I trust you to keep the Laws when your own house is in chaos?”

“We’re not in chaos. We’re just . . . What are you suggesting? That we go to a marriage counselor? Are you offering your services as one?” There was vast amusement in the silence on the other end of the phone. Selim smiled. He got up and walked to the balcony with the cordless phone tucked under one ear. He already knew that she wasn’t waiting at the Jamba Juice bar up the street. He stepped outside and looked that way anyway. “I miss her.”

“It drives you crazy,” Don Tomas said in his ear. “But you have to do it.”

It wasn’t advice, it was just the truth. Selim went
back into the living room. “It won’t get in the way of my job.”

“Good. What about Jager?”

Selim knew that this question was the real reason Don Tomas had called. “Just a friendly reminder?”

“Exactly. You’ll be taking care of the problem soon?”

Selim was restless and wanted to pace. He sat back on the couch. “Tonight.”

“Good.”

Selim could feel Don Tomas preparing to hang up. He asked a question quickly. “You’ve met Istvan, right?”

“You haven’t?”

“Never had the pleasure.”

“We met once.”

“What does he look like? Tall, slender, but with broad shoulders and long arms, big eyes under heavy brows?”

Selim wanted to ask if the
dhamphir
in any way resembled Nicolas Cage. That was who Istvan looked like in the dream. It had felt like someone had cast the actor for the part of the world’s most dangerous vampire. Like he’d been watching a movie. Weird. But that was only a dream. Some dreams were real. Most weren’t. Besides, Siri was a big Nicolas Cage fan, and most of Selim’s dreams were about Siri. He was very confused.

“He looks like that. Why?”

It had just been a bad dream. Either that, or Istvan was coming.

There could only be one reason. Selim wasn’t about to discuss it with Sebastian’s father. “Nothing,” he told Tomas. “Just wondering, that’s all.”

Selim hung up the phone and checked his watch. It was time he got going. He needed a shower and some breakfast before he went out and killed a vampire.

I
N THE END
, Siri simply couldn’t make herself do it.

She couldn’t wear black. Not even to the Viper Room. The whole Goth vampire thing just wasn’t her. Neither was looking cool and hip and with it and just like everybody else. She’d done her short, sexy, little black dress thing back in the eighties, at the Rainbow, the Whisky, the Roxy, and the other rock clubs on the Strip. She missed the eighties, but she couldn’t make herself dress like that anymore. She was a grown-up now, for God’s sake!

She did go to the Viper Room, though.

She remembered when the club at the address was called Filthy McNasty’s. That had been a lifetime ago, but Sunset hasn’t changed much, Siri decided as she waited by the velvet ropes outside the club. There wasn’t any more traffic or any fewer tourists. The giant billboards that lined the street were gaudier and more numerous than she remembered. There were fewer hookers, or they weren’t as obvious as they used to be. The tattoo places, strip clubs, and psychic reading rooms hadn’t gone away, though there was a darker, more degenerate feel to them than she remembered.

People just don’t know how to have fun anymore
she thought. Getting tired of waiting to get inside, Siri made her way to the front of the crowd and caught the doorman’s attention. She smiled and thought about how much he wanted to open the door for the nice redhead in the slinky emerald green dress and he eventually smiled back and did as her thoughts told him. “Good boy. Have a biscuit,” she added as she forked over a generous tip on her way in.

It was very noisy inside, the music from the stage overwhelmingly so. Siri didn’t expect to be impressed in any way with this hangout for the trendy but changed her mind the moment she let herself listen. The place had the best sound system she’d ever heard. All right, she decided as she made her way into the main room, she wouldn’t pretend to be bored and blasé about hanging out at Celebrity Central here. The music was great. She wasn’t sure whether to wander toward the stage or look for Yevgeny. She’d been listening to the Melissa Etheridge CD with “No Souvenirs” over and over in the car on the way over. She felt the need now for a song that was a bit less desperate. One that would help keep her mind off Selim.

Yevgeny solved the problem of what she should do by stepping up behind her before she got very far into the crowd. “Let’s talk,” he said, and took her arm. His grip was hard enough to keep her from arguing. His whole attitude was more domineering than she wanted or liked. She went with him, willing to keep him company for now.

“Macho, aren’t we?”

“Yes.” He flashed her a grin. “Chicks dig it.”

“What century were you born in?”

“Nineteenth. Want a drink?”

A few moments later, they were seated side by side at a small table. The couple who’d been occupying the table had felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to dance. Siri and Yevgeny smiled at each other as the couple, both bleached blonds, wandered off.

“Was that someone famous?” Siri asked as she watched the pair disappear into the crowd.

“Probably. Who cares?” Yevgeny looked at her with the sort of intense concentration she hadn’t felt from a man in over a year. It was the sort of look that made the temperature of the already hot room rise significantly. “Let’s talk about us.”

O-kaay.
Siri licked her lips. She chose to take his words in a general way. “How long have you been a companion?” she asked him. “Who were you with?” She’d asked Yevgeny these questions when they’d met. She asked them for Selim then. Now she asked because
she
wanted to know.

As before, he avoided answering her. “Too long. And does it matter?” Yevgeny took her hand. He gazed into her eyes.

She felt his thoughts probing her. She gave him a hard mental swat. He blinked. Anger blazed in his face for a moment. His grip on her fingers grew crushing. He relaxed before Siri could begin to struggle. He let her go and smiled.