Read Laws of the Blood 1: The Hunt Online
Authors: Susan Sizemore
Selim turned to see Don Tomas standing on the staircase, holding the hand of a tall, auburn-haired beauty. His four fledglings were there as well, glaring with stone-faced aggression at Kamaraju’s and Tancredi’s households.
“Hello, Tomas,” Selim said to the
hidalgo
.
“You’re late for our appointment,” Tomas replied.
Selim waved at the crowd. His heart was racing with relief. He was glad somebody other than Siri had responded to his psychic cry for help. Though Siri had likely gotten on the phone and made a few calls to get everyone here. He kept his manner cool. “Got held up.”
“You’re interfering with my Hunt,” Tomas said to Kamaraju.
Mike turned to Alice. He pointed at Selim. “He’s a fraud. We have proof! Join us, and the city will be ours.”
“I don’t want the city,” Alice answered. “I’d take a piece of you, though, hon,” she added, fangs showing. She laughed, harpy and siren at once. Others joined in,
but it sounded more like the howling of a maddened wolf pack than laughter.
She had the fever as well. Heat rolled over them all, the dark, ever-present
need
to stalk and terrorize and strike had reached boiling point in every vampire in town. This
was
every vampire in town. There was no way out of this fight, was there? The nests going after each other was the last thing he wanted. Slaves and companions would die, weaker vampires would end up serving the stronger until they could challenge for dominance themselves. It was all allowed under the Law, but it was no way for civilized beings to act.
Selim wasn’t sure who he blamed more, Valentine, Kamaraju, or himself.
One of Alice’s people moved forward. Lisa lunged at him. One of Tomas’s fledglings jumped to defend Alice’s man. Everything was up for grabs after that.
“Valentine,” Selim decided. But Kamaraju was here. He changed and leapt.
Snarling, fighting forms swirled around him, mixing teeth and claws with martial arts training. Blood scent rose on the air. Through the loud crack of bones and meaty thud of blows, Selim singled out his target. Kamaraju saw death coming his way and turned to run.
The spray of bullets that slammed into his chest as he spun away from Selim slowed Kamaraju down considerably. The sound of gunfire brought the riot to an instant halt. More bullets flew into the silence. Kamaraju fell to his knees, blood pouring onto the concrete. Selim raced toward him, but a dark figure in black leather reached Kamaraju first. Geoff Sterling put a bullet into the older vampire’s brain before he kicked him in the chest. Silence reigned as Kamaraju flopped over onto his back. Sterling tossed the gun aside. It was caught by a small woman, who swaggered forward, the AK-47 cradled with easy assurance in her hands.
Selim stepped back, transforming back to normal, and watched with the same silent fascination as the rest of the crowd. Bloodfever had died down considerably with
the introduction of this new danger in their midst. Cooled, but it wasn’t gone. Selim felt the atmosphere humming with the need for release, like the insides of a lightning storm.
“Now, that’s how you kill an older vampire,” Valentine instructed Sterling. “You just have to distract them long enough to rip out their hearts.” She beamed at Selim. “Isn’t that right, dear?”
He couldn’t find words to answer. All he could do was watch as Sterling’s claws grew out and out, to Nighthawk’s length. He’d felt the boy kill several times the night before; now he saw the result before him. The boy’s face changing into a muzzle that accommodated all those nasty, sharp, multiple rows of fangs. Impressive. There were gasps from among the watchers. Selim nodded his congratulations to Valentine on her work.
Kamaraju groaned, tried to lift his body off the ground. Valentine pumped a few more rounds into him. In the distance, police sirens began to sound. They weren’t very far from Parker Center, after all. The sirens might have nothing to do with the gunfire. “Hurry up,” Valentine instructed.
Geoff stood over Kamaraju for another moment, savoring his victory. Then he knelt and ripped open Kamaraju’s clothes. A second later, he ripped open Kamaraju’s chest with his fangs. He laughed when Kamaraju screamed. When Sterling stood up, he held Kamaraju’s heart in his hands. Selim didn’t begrudge him the kill. Revenge for Moira was Sterling’s right.
He turned and tossed the meat to Selim. “You take it, man. No way I’m touching that scum.”
Selim glanced disdainfully at the still-beating organ. “Yuck! What makes you think I want it?” He tossed it toward Valentine. “Somebody has to,” he told her. He wiped his hands on his pants. “You do it, Mom.”
It was Alice who spoke as Valentine made a face and disposed of the immortality of Kamaraju. “Is this a demonstration to show us that there are now three Enforcers in Los Angeles?”
“She’s a smart girl,” Valentine said after she’d gagged down the heart. She beamed around the crowd. “Does anyone have a napkin? If not,” she added, “why don’t you all go home?” She was still holding the AK- 47, and there were more mortals than vampires in the crowd. Most of them took the hint with only brief looks of permission from their masters. Kamaraju’s people had already fled.
Selim went up to Mike Tancredi. “I like Valentine’s trick—Have you met Valentine, by the way?—Do I have to use it on you?” Tancredi’s gaze was on the sidewalk. He shook his head. Selim put his hand on the car salesman’s shoulder. He was determined not to hold a grudge. He was determined to maintain peace in his town. “Go home, Mike,” he said quietly. “Get some rest. I’ll take you Hunting tomorrow night.”
Selim knew that Tancredi didn’t trust him or quite believe him, but he went without arguing, with all his people following closely behind. Selim let out a loud sigh of relief after they were gone. He turned around and found Valentine standing over Kamaraju’s corpse.
She looked his way. “Kama made the mistake most people do in this town. He began to believe his own press.” She looked around her at the buildings and up at the sky far overhead. Then she looked at Geoff Sterling. “I really would like to go home now.”
“I’ll take you,” he answered. “Soon.” He looked down at the body. “I have to clean up this mess first, just like you taught me last night.”
He’d become a Hunter in one night. Amazing. Maybe Valentine was the Mother of All Hunters. She was certainly Something Else. Selim didn’t want to think about what. He noticed the dark Mercedes pull up across the street. He waved a hand toward the car but didn’t go to Siri yet. He gestured Alice and Don Tomas over.
“I’ve been thinking,” he told them. And he knew what he was about to suggest was for Siri. And Valentine. And Miriam. And especially for Moira Chasen. And—he sighed—because it was the right thing to do,
if one was the sort who let ethics get in the way of self-interest. “There’s a serial killer in your neighborhood, Alice. Why don’t you take your people into Griffith Park and take him out?”
She smiled, radiated pleasure. “I had been meaning to suggest that to you.”
“Right. Tomas.” He turned to the other nest leader. “I think you get the job of making East Los Angeles a safer place. There’s a police officer that needs killing. Why don’t you and yours . . .” Selim gestured toward the group gathered around Tomas’s—companion? lady? wife?—Selim did not want to try to define the relationship just now. “Why don’t you prevent a riot instead of exploiting one?”
Don Tomas shrugged. “If that’s what you want, Selim. As long as we Hunt tonight.”
He could see Siri standing in the street, leaning against the door of her car, arms crossed. She was listening very intently, with her heart and her soul and her vision. She was smiling. Selim couldn’t help but smile back.
“Be right back, Tom.”
He trotted to Siri’s side. “Happy now?” he asked her.
Siri nodded. “It’s a start. Someone once said that a little revolution now and then is a good thing.” She frowned. “But I don’t know who.”
“A woman called Valentine,” he told her. He kissed Siri’s cheek and glanced at the small, lovely, mad, and marvelous Hunter on the other side of the street. He thought that perhaps she was called Valentine because it was impossible not to be in love with her. In an annoyed, exasperated way.
“I don’t want a revolution,” Selim told his companion. “I want a vacation.” He checked his watch, though he didn’t need it to tell him how fast the night was going by. “But right now, I think I have just enough time to save the world before bedtime.”
Bloodbond
The spell that enthralls slaves and companions to their vampire masters
Bloodburn
The instinct to Hunt
Bloodchild
What a vampire calls a mortal they’ve changed
Bloodfever
Another term for bloodburn
Bloodmother
Vampire’s female maker
Blood Parent
A vampire that has changed a human into a vampire; a Nighthawk who has changed a vampire into a Hunter
Bloodsire
Vampire’s male maker
Coin
Gold coin imprinted with an owl symbol unique to each nest; symbol of authority
Companion
Someone chosen to be a vampire’s lover
Curse, The
Vampirism
Dhamphir
Child born of a vampire father and mortal Romany mother
Dream Riding
Telepathically eavesdropping on someone’s thoughts and dreams
Enforcer of the City
Vampire appointed by the Strigoi Council to police a territory
Enforcer of the Laws
Vampire cop
Fledgling
Young vampire
Fosterling
Young vampire living and training under the protection of a nest leader
Gift, The
Psychic ability
Goddess
Some vampires believe they were created by a curse because of sins against the Goddess
Hunt
Sanctioned taking of human prey, regulated by enforcers
Hunter
Members of the Nighthawk line, and courtesy title of enforcers
Mindrape
Forced telepathic intrusion into another’s mind
Nest
A group of vampires, companions, and slaves that live and Hunt together
Nest Leader
Senior vampire in a nest; teacher and adoptive parent of younger vampires
Nighthawk
Another term for Hunters/Enforcers
Owl Bait
Term of affection
Silver Dagger
Symbol of Enforcer authority
Strig
A vampire that lives outside the protection of the Laws; a loner
Strigoi
The vampires’ name for themselves
Strigoi Council
The secret society that rules vampire society
Transient
Mortal psychic unable to form a permanent mental bond with a vampire
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s Imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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