Laws of the Blood 4: Deceptions: Deceptions by Susan Sizemore Page B

be in command of the magic, the need.
    “Let me go!” he recalled Lora begging last night when Rose stopped her from leaving the house. He had to admit he was impressed that his lethargic little Rose sensed the young vampire’s intentions and moved with decisive speed to keep the girl in the house. “I need!” Lora cried.
    Rose held her in her arms, rocking her like a loving mother trying to ease the broken heart of a child rather than soothing a monster who ripped them out. “Patience,” she urged. “We always need. The hunger bubbles in the mind and whispers all the time—take, Hunt, rape, kill. Fight the hunger, Lora. Be strong, one moment at a time.”
    “You told me I could have him!”
    “You will.”
    “She hurt me. She wouldn’t let me taste him. I stalked him, I claim him. He’s my prey!”
    “He’ll be in your bed soon. You hunted him too close to the Hunter’s territory, and that was my fault. I didn’t think she’d care. I shouldn’t have let you go without consulting with the Hunter. I was wrong.”
    “You’re never wrong,” Bentencourt interjected quickly. “The Greek witch doesn’t care, except to try to exert control she doesn’t deserve. She can’t control what goes on inside your nest. The Law says that Lora has a right to take a companion.”
    “Of course she does,” Rose answered, still holding Lora in a grip of steel. Lora moaned and clutched at Rose’s shoulders, her claws out, but not piercing flesh that only appeared soft and vulnerable. Rose made Lora look deep into her eyes. “You will have a companion. His blood is yours. Soon.”
    The constant hunger to Hunt was palpable in bothwomen. Bentencourt could taste it on the charged air. No matter how well vampires managed to control the dark urges, much of the time it was their weak spot, the place where they could most easily be manipulated. He loved that about them. It made it so easy for him.
    Bentencourt smiled at the memory of last night’s little drama. Lora certainly would not be granted her wish to take the companion of her choice soon, but perhaps she would have her bunny one way or another. Bentencourt really didn’t care what happened to Falconer, as long as Lora’s interest in him brought Olympias trouble.
    He had plenty of time before he had to leave, especially since he would probably catch a cab instead of walking the ten or twelve blocks to his meeting in this downpour. Time for a pub lunch, and maybe a game of darts if any of the bar’s regulars put in an appearance. The place was not too far from the zoo and a metro stop. Too many tourists found their way to the place at lunchtime to sample the excellent beer and simple but genuine Irish fare. Evenings it was different; locals came for the music and gatherings in the back rooms. Several genuine psychics did readings here once or twice a month and taught classes as well. It was a meeting with one of those psychics that had changed his life. He’d ended up holding his own classes as a way of developing his mental abilities and gaining information with the hypnotic and mind-reading skills he discovered he was so gifted with. Bentencourt was not the regular he’d been at one time, but he did miss the evenings holding court in the back rooms.
    It was good to indulge in a bit of nostalgia, but Bentencourt wondered why he was really here today. True, this old haunt was not too far from his destination, but he knew there was no such thing as coincidence for mental adepts, only synchronicity. By the time he’d signaled a waitress, given her his lunch order, then turned his attention to the door, he had his answer.
    Ah, he thought, of course.
    Bentencourt raised his hand to get her attention. Grace Avella smiled when she saw him. He noted that she did not look a bit surprised at his presence as she made her way through the mass of small tables to reach his place near the dark paneled wall. She’d been Walking, he concluded, looking for him. He was annoyed