Laws of the Blood 1: The Hunt (33 page)

“Yevgeny,” she answered, meeting his look levelly. “I want Yevgeny. I want his safety.” She sighed. Her words rushed on. “It’s time he moved on from me, whether I like it or not. I screwed up with him from the beginning. I took a happily married man from his wife and children without his permission. Took him from a culture and career he loved because of my own needs. Do you know how we met? At a party at the Disney studio. He was part of a Russian delegation doing a goodwill tour. He was the official translator, and a spy, of course. It was the middle of the Cold War, after all.
I took one look at him and jumped. It was assumed he’d defected, when a lust-crazed vampire had abducted him. He never asked for what he became.” Her face took on a dreamy, bittersweet expression for a moment. “He was so full of unfocused power, so beautiful and virile. I screwed him over. I thought better of it, eventually. Tried to make up for what I’d done, but my solution didn’t work. But I’m trying to help him as much as I can.”

It was a touching story. Her sentiments were admirable. “Yevgeny,” Selim said slowly, “is dead.”

“He’s not. I would have felt him die. He’s hurt, wounded, in pain . . . but he is not dead.”

Selim would have felt it as well, having been so closely entangled with Valentine during their daydreaming. “Yevgeny,” he repeated, words and intent as hard as titanium, “is dead.”

“No.” She was just as firm.

“He threatened Siri. He threatened the child. Whatever condition he’s presently in, I will be putting him out of his misery soon.”

Valentine jerked her arm from Selim’s grasp. “You most certainly will not!”

“He’s insane, Valentine! That makes him a threat to everyone in my territory. I won’t have it.”

“He needs help,” she replied, just as adamant as he was. “You’re going to find it for him.” She pointed at Sterling. “A bargain. I assume your responsibility for Geoff, you assume mine for Yevgeny.”

Selim sprang up, fury seething through him. “No! Do you hear me, Valentia? No.”

She rose majestically to her feet, exuding force and power. “It’s the only solution, and you know it.”

Selim stood his ground despite the impulse to back away from this little goddess. “You can’t have everything your own way. You—” If Sterling hadn’t started screaming at that moment, Selim would have gone on at great length about her being spoiled, selfish, imperious, and impossible. As it was, the sound and piteous
sight of the young man writhing on the floor did all Valentine’s work for her. The fight went out of Selim. All he could say as his shoulders slumped in capitulation was, “Shit.”

Valentine patted him on the shoulder. “I knew you had some compassion left in your heart.” She turned and walked out of the room.

Sterling fought for control while she was gone and managed to meet Selim’s gaze as Selim stared at him. The awareness fighting through the pain in those eyes was even more startling, and it stabbed deep into Selim’s conscience. Sterling managed to mouth a silent
Thank you.
He fought hard for control and even managed to twist up onto his knees by the time Valentine returned. She tossed Selim his pants and shirt, then knelt and put an arm around Sterling’s shoulders.

The clothes were warm from the dryer, scented with fabric softener. He went back into the bedroom to dress and put on his shoes. When Selim came back, Valentine had coaxed Sterling to his feet. “What are you going to do?” Selim asked her.

“Take him Hunting right now, of course,” she answered. “It was your idea, remember?” He didn’t, but she went on before he could point this out. “When you were Hunting Jager, you had a notion about taking out all the other strigs in town for their Hunt. That’s what we’re going to do, Geoff and I. Go strig hunting.”

Selim wasn’t even tempted to argue with her. The night was racing past, and there was so much to do. He wanted to be with Siri more than anything else. He needed her, and she needed him. He closed his eyes for a moment, forced himself to keep his priorities in order. Siri would have to wait, damn it! This devil’s bargain over Yevgeny would have to come first. He opened his eyes.

“Fine,” he told Valentine. “Do what you have to. I’ll check back tomorrow night.”

Valentine gave a firm nod, then left Sterling to walk Selim to the door. “Go.” She opened it for him. “We’ll
both do what we have to, and that’s that.” Selim might have said something else, but she pushed him out and closed the door firmly behind him.

She collapsed weakly against the door and breathed a thankful sigh once she’d felt Selim’s presence moving swiftly away. “Elvis,” she murmured, “has left the building.”

She waited a while longer before she moved. Geoff needed her, but she had to gather her courage first. That had been quite a performance she’d put on for Selim. Now, for the sake of the poor, suffering boy she’d talked Selim into leaving in her keeping, she had to turn in an even stronger performance. She had to find the strength to live up to her end of the bargain.

She walked past the couch and out onto the balcony. She looked up at the stars, down at the walled garden of her Bunker Hill building, out at the skyline of the skyscrapers in the center of the city not too far away. This was her world. A few rooms and a view. A computer modem, a television, a fax machine, and a telephone fitted nicely into this small world, made it as large as she wanted. She wrapped her arms tightly over her stomach, protectively. It couldn’t be about what she wanted right now. Couldn’t be about her fears and phobias. Geoff needed her. Yevgeny needed her to keep her bargain. Selim, in deadly peril, needed her most of all.

Then again, she faltered, maybe the vision wouldn’t come true.

Her head spun dizzily at the very thought of leaving her safe retreat. The sky tilted down, and the steel and glass buildings in the distance rose up higher and higher. She knew they were going to fall on her, flatten her, crush her. She threw her hands up to cover her face, took a frantic step backward. If she could just get inside, close the door, draw the heavy drapes across the view of the outside, then she’d be—

A hand grasped her shoulder. She backed into a solid wall of muscle. A reek of sweat filled her nostrils, and
a shock of pain transferred from soul to soul at the point where Geoff touched her. Valentine gasped and spun to look into Geoff’s tortured face. He was beyond words, but his thought came to her clearly, acid-tinged with agony.
How long since you’ve been outside?

“Three years,” she answered honestly. “Give or take a month or six.”

He gave a brief, curt nod. His eyes were full of pleading.
Help me. I’ll help you.

His hunger burned into her. Hunger for revenge as much as the bloodburn that desperately needed to be released. That he was on his feet and lucid amazed her. Pleased her. Gave her hope, as well. He was a tough one. He reminded her of herself when she was young.

Why not? I’m your grandson, aren’t I, Lady of Snakes?

Her eyes went wide at his presumption, at the blasphemy. Then she smiled. “So you are.” She patted his cheek, though he winced from the gentle touch. “And a smart little owlet, too.” At least his thoughts gave her a certain amount of courage—or at least helped return her focus. She could do this. Would. Must.

She told him, “Wait here while I get my dagger.”

S
ELIM HAD TWO
choices after racing up the steps and crossing the wide, fountained plaza at the top of the hill a few blocks away from Valentine’s neighborhood. He could take the steep concrete steps that led down the sharp descent of the hill on this side of the plaza, or he could take a car of the old-fashioned funicular railway known as Angel’s Flight down to the street far below. He paused at the rail for a few moments, considering options, gazing down through the night at the old, beaten up backside of the city, sharply divided from the flashy new skyscrapers and prosperous housing just the height of the hill away. It was a long way down. Union Station wasn’t far from where he stood, the hour wasn’t that late. He could probably grab a seat on a commuter train out to Claremont.

“Or I could just go home to Siri,” he murmured. “And hope she’ll be there.” He continued to lean against the rail and found himself wishing for a cigarette for the first time in years. They helped him think. He’d given up the smoking habit when he’d met her, at her insistence. He smiled at the memory of those arguments over health and secondary smoke. He was a henpecked Hunter, and she was right, he loved it.

He wanted to be with her, ached to, physically and psychically. Home was where she was. Selim knew that if he’d been with her, paid attention to her, given her his strength, Yevgeny would never have somehow wormed his way into her mind. He was the one who’d put her life and sanity at risk, thinking he did it for her own good. Which was the excuse Valentine gave herself for her selfishness with Yevgeny. Selim could almost forgive Yevgeny what he’d done in light of what had been done to him. What he’d started doing to Siri—because he loved her. Wanted to keep her forever in a world where the inhabitants were immortal but relationships were ephemeral. He and Siri had a lot of making up to do. He had a lot to pay for. All he could do was love her for as long as he could have her.

“Screw it,” he growled and jumped over the railing.

He landed in the middle of the street below and sprang on top of a car roof to avoid being hit. The driver honked and swerved, not sure of what he’d seen but radiating an adrenaline rush of terror that reached out to perfume the night. Selim leapt off the car, got his bearings, and decided not to bother with the train. He needed a long, hard run to clear his head. He hoped something would clear his head soon, because if it didn’t, he was going to go as crazy as his darling, little, fanged horror of a bloodmother.

He followed the train tracks all the way to Claremont. Streaks and traces of the mental energy and magic shot out earlier today permeated the center of the town. Selim had to stand for a while at the base of the hill beyond the train station to sort out the lines of scarring on the psychic landscape. He knew where the events at noon had taken place, but the trails that led from the site were more important right now. He drew in long breaths, searching through physically perceptible scents. There was a wealth of those in the air, as well. Finally, it was a fresh trail of emotion he recognized and chose to follow. He knew within a few blocks where the trail led and took a shortcut to head off the hunter.

Selim stepped out of the shadows on Miriam’s front porch when Don Tomas reached the steps. “You shouldn’t be here, Tom.”

Tomas looked up, his face illuminated by the weak yellow glow of the porch light. His eyes were wide black pools; a pair of fangs protruded from beneath his upper lip. Tomas pointed a clawed finger toward the door.
“He
—whatever he is—shouldn’t be in there.”

Selim nodded his agreement. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Out of my way, Selim.”

Selim moved to the top of the porch steps, blocking Tomas’s way. Tomas’s anger gave off a hot, deep red psychic glow, but he radiated cold determination as well. “I said I’d take care of it.”

“You should have already taken care of it! You promised to protect my son, Hunter.”

Guilt scratched inside Selim. “I know I did.” This was no time to offer excuses, to justify his failure with a tale of being disoriented and distracted because someone more powerful had been raping his mind. An Enforcer didn’t show weakness. An Enforcer of the Law didn’t explain. “I am sorry,” he apologized.

“Is Miriam part of this? Part of a plot to kill my child?”

“I have no idea how Miriam is involved,” he admitted. “Not yet.”

“Then let’s ask her.” Tomas snarled, and jumped toward him.

Selim caught and held him. They struggled, and Selim went over backward, landing heavily on the wide wooden porch, with Don Tomas on top of him. Selim grasped Tomas around the waist while the angry vampire swiped at Selim’s eyes. Selim turned his head, and Tomas’s claws scratched across his cheek. Fangs snapped at his shoulder.

“Ouch! Shit! Tom, don’t make me have to hurt you!”

“Get out of my way.”

“Get off my porch.”

Selim hadn’t heard the door open while he struggled with Don Tomas, but Miriam now stood behind them. Selim tilted his head back to look at her. “Good evening.”

“Hello.”

Tomas looked up from where Selim still held him in a tight grip, and he snarled a challenge. Miriam’s features began to change in response, but she caught herself and remained calm and human-looking. “I understand what you’re going through, Don Tomas, but don’t push it.” She came forward a few steps and nudged first Tomas, and then Selim, with her foot. “I won’t have you fighting like schoolboys out here. It will draw attention. Bring it inside,” she ordered them and stood back to hold her front door open. “I’m inviting you into my nest, Tomas,” she added as Selim and the angry vampire disentangled themselves. “Answer the invitation properly, and we’ll have this sorted out quickly.”

The implied threat of reprisal hung in the air, and Selim had to acknowledge her rights. “She can beat the crap out of you, Tom,” he reminded the
hidalgo
. “Then you’d be stuck here when Cassie and Sebastian need you at home.”

Miriam could beat the crap out of him, if truth be told—and what a stupid title for a movie that was—having been a vampire for a very, very long time. She was also a sweet, civilized woman with no interest in outmoded dominance games. She wouldn’t have dealt with her human stalker in a violent way if she hadn’t needed to Hunt. She didn’t want violence now, unless Tomas forced her into it, that is. “Let’s listen to what she has to say,” Selim urged. “We’re on her territory.” Selim carefully released his hold on Don Tomas.