Laws of the Blood 2: Partners (13 page)

She turned her face up to the thin stream of water, closed her eyes, and let the day’s dreams rise to the surface.

Char met Della in the building’s empty waiting room a few minutes later. Her hair was still damp, and the chill air in the room made her shiver, but she did feel better for being clean. She was disturbed by what she remembered, but being disturbed was becoming standard operating procedure. Della gave her a mug of weak tea. Char was both pleased and wary about the former companion’s remembering her preferred choice of caffeine. Odd how she’d gotten into a habit of drinking coffee since leaving Seattle but found herself craving tea now that she was home. They sat down, facing each other, on a pair of cold plastic chairs.

“I found your car,” Della said.

“Is there a demon in Seattle?” Char asked her. “Because if there is and he has Daniel, I have no business being here.” Char caught a buzz from the jolt of genuine terror that went through Della, but she fought off her own predatory instincts to absorb strong emotion and kept her mind on business.

Della’s mug hit the floor and rolled away after scattering a few drops on the worn linoleum. “Demon?” Her pale eyes narrowed, studying Char intently. “There’s
dark magic in town but . . . You mean there really are demons?”

There was a rumor that Krystalle and the other late strigoi of Seattle had made a pact with demons. Perhaps Della had heard that rumor. Char gave it no credence.

Char finished her tea, then put the cup down on a nearby table, with Della staring at her the whole time. While Della stared, Char slipped through Della’s weakened psychic shielding. Eating the mortal’s emotions was bad, but analyzing them was okay. What Char discerned was that the woman was resentful, compassionate, hurting, grieving, loving—but with a streak of viciousness. Della was a very confused and confusing woman, but Char was quickly convinced that Della hadn’t deliberately been trying to get her into trouble.

Char gently withdrew her probing and said. “There’s a very specific law pertaining to the strigoi people interacting with demons.” Of course Char couldn’t recall the exact wording when she needed to quote it. “It goes something like, don’t mess with demons, ever.”

Della looked at her with complete lack of understanding. “Why?”

Char shrugged. “There’s a treaty. Probably goes back thousands of years.” More likely hundreds, to the time when there were maybe a dozen vampires left in the whole world and they needed to bury traditional enmities and territorial disputes simply to survive in the mortal world. Char saw no need to tell a mortal suppositions based on her research. One of the most important survival tools the strigoi had used over the millennia was not telling anybody much of anything—oh, and
downright lying worked nicely, as well. While this helped hide the existence of vampires from mortals, it also hid vampires from each other. Char was not so sure this was a good thing, but who was she to argue with policy set by the Strigoi Council?

“The point is, if Daniel is somehow involved with a demon, I doubt there’s anything I can do about it.”

Della went from being confused to furious. “People have been killed. People are being used. There’s a missing child! Someone is using black magic to take over the city.”

“At least to hide their activities. I finally figured that out. After I was hit with a spell that needed to channel a demon’s psychic power to get it to work. I can’t fight a true demon.”

“You’re an Enforcer. What do you mean there’s nothing you can do?”

“Because the children of the lesser gods cut a deal with the Strigoi. The treaty was sealed with the Blood of the Goddess, making it a pact that cannot be broken.”

“What goddess?”

Oh, right, Krystalle must not have mentioned religion to her companion. “Never mind. You do know what a blood promise is, right?”

Della waved a hand. “Sort of. Something to do with contracts.”

Char nodded. “The most serious kind of agreement is said to be sealed in ancient blood. Very strong magic.”

If truth be told, all vampire blood was, technically or at least theoretically, the blood of the goddess—if one was a religious sort of vampire. Personally, Char would
rather think that vampirism was some sort of mutation or blood disease that brought about physical changes and enhanced the energy manipulation that was better known as magic. Demons, real demons, not the ones created by magical experimentation, were probably some sort of interdimensional alien. Or maybe they were exactly what they believed they were, creatures of forgotten gods whose duty it was to punish mortals. Who was she to question other beings’ religious beliefs when she had enough of her own to question? She supposed it was an easier explanation than the alien theory, though she suspected that it was demons that were responsible for the recent rash of what mortal victims deemed to be alien abductions.

She was musing again, Char realized, while Della gaped at her. When Char focused on her, Della asked, “You’ve got an agreement with demons?”

“I didn’t make the deal. I don’t necessarily think it’s a good idea, but I enforce the Laws.”

“Oh, really?” Della snapped. “What laws have you enforced lately?”

Char winced at both Della’s words and tone. But she admitted, “I know I’m a rookie.”

She had a ceremonial silver knife, but no nest leader had yet to give her an owl-faced coin to acknowledge her authority to organize hunts and mediate disputes. She wanted to be of active use to the community but suspected she was more of a support-staff type than field operative material. But Istvan wouldn’t have sent her out with an assignment if he didn’t think she was ready. Except, he hadn’t exactly set her to hunting other
vampires, had he? And demons? Demons were definitely out of Enforcer jurisdiction.

“Aren’t you supposed to protect people?”

“Enforcers protect mortal and immortal people from each other and settle disputes between immortals.”

“Demons are immortal.”

“No, they’re not, just long-lived. And I can’t protect mortals from them.”

“I protect whoever comes under my wing.”

“That’s very admirable, but there’s nothing I can do for Daniel if a demon has him under its power.”

“Excuse me? But doesn’t this treaty work both ways? If a demon’s kidnapped a vampire and is using the vampire to murder people . . .”

“I don’t know that Daniel was kidnapped by anyone,” Char interrupted. “I don’t know anything about what’s happened to Daniel. What I do know is that a mortal sorcerer—for want of a better term—is killing people. I know that this sorcerer is using obscuring spells to keep anyone with psychic talent from detecting his or her presence. I know that a companion called on a spell set by a sorcerer to knock me out, and that this companion also mentioned a demon. Whether this companion belongs to Daniel, I don’t know.”

“But what if this wizard is in league with a demon, and they’re using Daniel?”

“Then Daniel might be in deep shit with the Strigoi Council for being in league with this demon.”

“But—it would be against his will.”

“I would have to discover why and how he’s involved
before I enforce the Laws. I might be able to let him off. I might not.”

“But—”

“I know! No one says laws written thousands of years ago make any sense today, but they’re still the laws I have to enforce.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Della laughed harshly. “You’re ridiculous. You’re scared, Char-lotte. Scared you can’t handle what’s out there, so you invent a law about demons as an excuse.”

That was unfair and untrue, but Char saw the woman’s point. She didn’t argue about it. “Whatever.”

Della rose to her feet. “Something evil is going on. If you can’t fix it, find somebody who can.” She pointed toward the street door. “Get out of my house, and don’t come back until the streets are safer for the poor souls that are under
my
protection.” She tossed Char her car keys. “Hunter,” she added with a hard laugh and a dismissive shrug. “Hunter, my ass.”

“
W
HAT DO YOU
mean, how’d I get this number?” Char spoke into the cell phone from the exact spot in Pioneer Square where the companion’s magic had attacked her the night before. She could still detect the dregs of that burst of energy and noticed that the crowds on the sidewalk were unconsciously giving the area a wide berth.

The woman on the other end of the line said nothing, and Char went on. “I knew there was something you didn’t tell me when you came to my place, Bourbon. Tell me now, or forever rest in peace, all right?”

That sounded good. Sounded tough. Char gave a toss of her head as she gazed into the window of the Starbucks across the busy street. Friday night was a lot different in this neighborhood than Thanksgiving had been. Friday night was party time, with the square full of locals and tourists. Lots of noise, lots of fun. She remembered nights here years ago, Johnny and her drinking and listening to music at the clubs. She didn’t want to go back in them—stirring up old memories and all that. She planned on catching the last underground tour of the evening. She didn’t know if she’d find any clue to
Daniel’s whereabouts, but she had another purpose in mind. She looked up and down the street and saw no sign of the man she waited for. She smiled as she thought,
Maybe I spent the day sleeping, but that doesn’t mean I was napping.

She did have a plan. Despite Della’s lack of confidence, Char had every intention of behaving like an Enforcer of the Law before leaving this town. While she waited, she answered the question she’d posed to Helene Bourbon herself. “You told me you were tired of playing mother to strays, but the real reason you didn’t come for help sooner was because you didn’t notice he was missing. Somebody put a spell on you.”

The indignant answer came instantly. “Don’t be ridiculous!” No strigoi, especially a nest leader, would easily admit to that. Char didn’t bother replying, and after a long silence, Helene Bourbon said, almost whispered, very contritely, “That’s what must have happened.”

“And why didn’t you mention this to me?”

“I . . . forgot?”

“Oh, puh-lease. I wasn’t reborn yesterday.”

Of course that was exactly what everyone thought, that Char’s being a hunter was some sort of joke, a mistake, that she was naive and gullible, and maybe part of that was true. Time to change that perception.

“Was Daniel kidnapped by a sorcerer? Did he go off with a demon?” Char batted away the mental image of Huck Finn as a vampire being taken in by a pair of mortal con artists.

“A demon? I don’t know anything about demons,” Helene said hastily.

“What about the mortal magician?”

“I don’t know anything. Daniel ran off. I did go looking for him, but I got . . . lost. I ended up sleeping in the woods near my house. When I woke up, I went home and didn’t even think about Daniel for weeks. Neither did anyone else in my nest. When the spell wore off, I did what I could to find him.”

Char knew she should still be annoyed at Helene’s not adding this salient point about spells during their initial conversation, but she smiled. The spell had worn off. So this sorcerer wasn’t as good as he thought he was. She could work with that. “Thanks,” she said as she spotted her quarry crossing the square. “Gotta go. Have a date.”

She shut off the phone and put it back in her coat pocket. Maybe she couldn’t do anything about the demon if he was working with the sorcerer, but there was a chance she could take out the sorcerer. Then whatever magic he was using on the young vampire would fade. That might do Daniel some good. But this sorcerer was good at weaving protective spells, and she’d have to find him first. She’d work on that after taking care of some other business.

The problem with magic, Char thought as she walked toward where the tour group gathered beside one of the old buildings, was that some idiots thought they could rule the world with it. Magic, as any sensible being who was affected by it could tell you, was more of a pain in the posterior than it was a power tool. For one thing, it
turned around and bit you on the butt if you gave it half a chance. It was dangerous to use, hard to control, and there were always consequences for using it. Also, only a tiny percentage of the population could even be affected by it. Just because you put a spell on someone didn’t mean it was going to work. Magic was like ragweed or cat fur, some people had an allergic reaction; most didn’t.

She had the most serious form of the allergy or she wouldn’t have ended up not only a vampire, but a vampire’s vampire. The tall, stoop-shouldered man in the worn leather coat standing near the tour group was also sorely afflicted with the allergy, or he wouldn’t have responded to her dreamriding suggestion that he check out the underground tonight.

She regretted that he’d answered her call, because she was going to kill Jebel Haven this evening. She was going to have to have a talk with him first, and that would make it harder for her, but she was definitely going to kill him.

Her immediate problem was how to introduce herself. She always thanked her luck for meeting Johnny Bluecorn, because she’d never been any good on the dating scene. All that “Hi, what’s your sign? Come here often?” stuff was simply beyond her comprehension.
Oh, well,
she thought as Haven’s glance flicked her way and she was caught by the intensity in his dark brown eyes,
I’m sure something will come up.