“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.
Tomas rose to his feet, his gaze locked with Miriam’s, but he reached down to give Selim a hand up. Selim stood by his side and waited through a short mental confrontation between the other vampires. It took a while, but Don Tomas’s features gradually returned to normal, his anger toned down to a banked, manageable fire. Selim held in his sigh of relief.
“Apologies, doña,” Tomas said, after silently acknowledging Miriam’s superiority. “I will accept your hospitality for now.”
Selim didn’t ask for an apology, and none was offered. He took Don Tomas by the arm. “Let’s do what the lady says, and take it inside.” He had quite a few questions for Miriam himself, but out here in the open dark was no place to voice them. Once they were in Miriam’s book-lined bedroom with the door closed behind them, Selim said, “Where is he, and what is he doing here?”
“Why is he alive?” Don Tomas demanded. “He tried to kill in your territory.”
Miriam took a seat in a deep leather chair and gestured for them to sit. Selim and Tomas remained standing. Joseph and Gary hovered on either side of Miriam’s chair, protective and worried. The household’s other vampire was not present. Miriam looked calmly up at Selim. “Yevgeny is here because he failed in a suicide attempt. Suicide,” she went on, her gaze locked hard on Don Tomas’s. “Surely, you saw what happened at Andrew’s place today? I know I was aware of much of what went on.” Tomas nodded, his jaw tight with tension, his hands balled tightly at his sides. Miriam cut her gaze to Selim. “How is Siri?”
“Fine,” he answered, though he didn’t know that at all and wanted very much to find out. That was why he had to get this over with quickly. Was it suicide? He wondered. Or had Siri helped direct the silver knife toward Yevgeny’s heart? He didn’t question Miriam’s interpretation, not with a promise to Valentine to keep.
“If it wasn’t suicide,” Miriam said anyway “he would not be under my protection now.”
“How can you protect him?” Don Tomas demanded. “After what he tried to do to my son? Where is he? I promised to bring his heart to my wife.”
“That’s very touching, Tomas,” Miriam said, quite unperturbed. “But I won’t allow it. The man is disturbed but not evil. Believe me, I know. I’ve been inside his head; so have Joseph and Andrew. I trust my judgment and theirs. Gary and Jo
seph went back to the coffeehouse late this afternoon and found him,” she explained before Selim could ask. “The plan was to finish him off if he was still alive.” She glanced fondly at her companion and her slave. “They couldn’t do it. This was cold-blooded killing, not a Hunt. So they stuffed him into the back of the car and brought him home for me or Andrew to dispose of. He was coming around, and thinking very loudly by then. What they picked up from him was very unsettling. Not the emotions of a child murderer, certainly.”
“He tried to kill my son!” Tomas looked frantically at Selim. “Why doesn’t she understand that?”
“Because he set out to kill a monster, not slay an innocent child.” Miriam stood. Joseph and Gary moved closer to her. “Honestly, Tomas, why are you being so single-mindedly stupid about the whole affair? Look at it from his point of view!”
“I am the victim’s father,” Tomas pointed out. “I don’t need any other point of view.”
“No, I suppose not,” she agreed. “Look at it this way, then. Yevgeny did not set out to kill a child. In fact, he couldn’t kill a child. He set out to ritually sacrifice a monster in order to gain the immortality he’d earned after five decades of enthrallment to a vampire who denied him his rightful birth. It turned out he was an honorable person who could not harm a child, even though it meant sacrificing his chance to join the strigoi. Now that,” she went on, her attention mostly on Selim. “Is the sort of person we need living in this little world of ours.”
Selim gave her a grudging nod. He wasn’t going to disagree with anything she said in the blond bastard’s behalf. He said to Tomas. “Let it go. Sebastian’s home, he’s safe. No harm has been done.”
Tomas shook his head unbelievingly. “No harm—”
Selim took Tomas aside. “No one’s going to change your mind,” he said quietly to the outraged father. “So let’s make a deal, instead.”
“Deal?” Tomas spat out the word, but he didn’t turn away. Selim had no doubt that Tomas knew what was coming.
“You and Cassandra,” he said anyway. “She shouldn’t be living with you. It creates a great deal of tension and resentment, but I’ve allowed it for five years now. If you don’t let this Yevgeny matter go, I won’t allow her to live with you any longer.” Selim didn’t mention what everyone suspected, that Tomas and Cassandra were still, somehow, lovers as well as a parent and child living in the same nest. He couldn’t help but recall the vivid dream about making love to Valentine, vampire to vampire. Remembering it, he didn’t blame Tom and Cassie a bit, though it was wrong and evil and forbidden on pain of death by the Law. Don’t ask, don’t tell, he thought and went on. “You need to Hunt, my friend. Once you do, Yevgeny won’t seem so important to you.”
Don Tomas stood before him, wiry and intense, dark eyes blazing, deep voice rough with emotion, cold as death. He ignored Selim’s mention of Cassandra. “You’re saying I’m irrational because I’m hungry?”
Selim nodded, hoping Tomas would accept this. He almost held his breath while he watched Tomas battle with his anger and pride. “I will Hunt,” Tomas said finally. He glared at Selim. “Tomorrow. Where you said. Arrange it.” With that, he was gone, moving so swiftly that the front door slamming behind him was the only indication he’d been in the house a moment before.
Selim breathed a sigh of relief and turned his attention to Miriam. “What do you plan to do with the nut case?”
She frowned at his attitude. “Heal him, of course. He deserves our help.”
Selim refrained from voicing his personal opinions on the matter. “How?”
“Take him under my wing, of course.” She smiled. “Andrew’s solution, really. In fact, Andrew will be the one who gives birth to Yevgeny. If that’s all right with you?” she asked, for form’s sake. “He’s been wanting to visit some friends in Texas, anyway. We thought that after Andrew helped Yevgeny make the kill, he’d spend a year or so in Austin with his friends. That way I can concentrate on the fledgling, and no Law will have been broken.”
“Bent a little, though.” Selim sighed and shrugged. It seemed that every vampire in Southern California was becoming expert on bending the Law lately. “Fine. Do it, Miriam. Do you have someone in mind for the kill? Or am I supposed to help with that?”
Her smile widened. “We have a plan.” She glanced fondly at Joseph. “You remember the man who was stalking me?” There was no need for him to reply to that. Miriam looked disgusted as she went on. “While we were disposing of him, he emptied a great deal of what was on his nasty little mind into ours. There is a rapist he occasionally ran with before he caught sight of me. We couldn’t help but find out this person’s name and what he’s done. Joe managed to track down his address. We have all the information we need. We thought it would be good for the world if we took this slime off the streets. With your permission, of course, Hunter.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Selim looked toward the door. “I’m going to go home now, okay?”
Gary spoke up for the first time. “Siri needs you.”
Followed by Joseph. “What about the other matter, Hunter?”
“Yes,” Miriam added. “What about this script Joseph says mentions us by name?”
Selim did his best to project casual unconcern. He managed a nonchalant smile. “No problem,” he told the worried nest members. “It’s already taken care of.” Valentine couldn’t be trusted, he knew, but her Yevgeny couldn’t be in better hands. And he’d have the weak, vulnerable, fledgling Yevgeny to use as a bargaining piece if Valentine tried double-crossing him over the rewrite she’d promised. He looked at Joseph. “I believe the term for what’s happening with If Truth Be Told is that it’s lost in development hell. This is good, and I’m going home now,” he said again, and left before anyone could say anything more.
Selim wasn’t there. He hadn’t been home when she arrived at his apartment as soon as she could after taking Sebastian home. She’d almost been too tired and drained to care. Exhaustion and reaction claimed every bit of energy she had left as she fell into his bed, wondering where he was. She’d slept alone through the last of the day for hour after nightmare-riddled hour, only to wake in the night, still alone. It was so damned unfair to always be alone that all Siri wanted to do was lie in the big, lonely bed and scream and scream. So she lay on her back, gazed at the blank beige ceiling, and did just that. She drummed her fists and heels against the mattress, too. After a while, her throat hurt, and she felt like an idiot. So she got up, took a shower, then made her way to the living room.
She hadn’t noticed the wreckage left from the night before when she’d arrived, though she supposed she must have picked her way through it. All she’d cared about then was getting to the bedroom. Now she surveyed it with a mixed sense of utter distaste and gleeful delight. She hated his pack rat ways, hated the ancient furnishings. She was well aware that the world was falling apart around them, that her vampire was probably out trying to save them all from death and disaster. She also knew that he wasn’t here with her where she needed him to be. The best way to keep her mind off approaching chaos, and get even for Selim’s absence, was embodied by this scattered mess before her. Siri stood in the center of the living room, rubbed her hands together, and cackled evilly. Then she went to get a broom and trash bags from the kitchen.
She was filling the second plastic bag when she became aware of Selim. Her mind was bruised, her gift dulled, but she could feel him, though she had to close her eyes and concentrate very hard. He was nearby. He was coming home. He was coming to her. She relaxed with relief and found herself sitting on the floor. It hurt too much to try to hold onto the awareness, so she let it go. Only to have the vision slam her like a nail right between the eyes.
Too exhausted to clear the razor wire, the panting strig slid down the fence. She turned to face the pair behind her, bloodied hands raised defensively. One of the pair behind her moved forward. Geoff Sterling’s form flashed into and out of the glare of a passing train’s lights. The tr
ain roared. Geoff dashed straight at the other vampire, dodged a kick, blocked a downward arc of claws with a forearm. Geoff snarled. Something silver flashed through the air behind him. He snatched the blade from the air. Brought it down with all his strength across the strig’s face. Another strike buried the blade to the hilt in strig’s throat. The screaming strig went down. A small figure raced forward, grabbed Geoff, and dragged him to his knees. Two sets of fangs and claws attacked the body on the ground. Heat soared through the attacking creatures. Huge, obsidian-bright eyes met, their bloody hands reached for each other. Then—
Siri’s vision cleared at the sound of the door opening. She sprang to her feet, panting with terror and need. Selim was there, as wide-eyed as she was, as full of the hot, heady emotions of the vision. He held his arms open to her. She rushed forward on a wordless cry. Hearts pounding, blood burning, they came together in the center of the room.
There was no stopping after a chaste kiss and swift, affectionate hug this time. Not after 390 days. He’d counted those days as much as she had, suffered through each lonely hour with her.
“No more. We aren’t going to be alone tonight,” he promised the fierce little woman in his arms.
She bit him first, before he could even kiss her. Her teeth sank into the flesh of his throat, not sharp enough to break the tough, supple skin, but hard enough to drive all memory of the Hunting vision out of him. He’d been struck blind with another’s need as he reached his own door. Once inside that door, with Siri in his arms, being with her was all that mattered. Her touch filled his senses, her scent surrounded him, the texture of her skin, the firm, familiar weight of her small body as he carried her into the bedroom. Her hair brushed his cheek and sent waves of fire through him. The tips of her breasts pressed burning points into his chest.
Laws of the Blood 1: The Hunt Page 25
