Laws Of The Blood - Heroes Part 1

HEROES.

Laws of the Blood.

By Susan Sizemore.

Prologue.

"ALL LAWS ARE lies!" Martina stood up and proclaimed.

Ben sighed. The outburst nearly annoyed him enough to ask the woman what the h.e.l.l she was talking about, but that would give her an opening to tell him. He hadn't been following the conversation. Until a moment ago he'd been contentedly sipping a scotch and looking at the view from the meeting room in the hotel's penthouse owner's suite. Maybe the others at the table would just ignore her and go back to business.

Unfortunately, Dresser asked, "Why are you interrupting this meeting? What is it you want, girl?"

"A world without Enforcers," Martina promptly answered. "All Laws are lies," she repeated, and stuck her fist in the air.

She reminded Ben of Jane Fonda back in the Vietnam War era, but he managed to keep from telling the crazed vampire chick that as well. Martina and her whole nest were nuts. Fanatics. Death to the Pig Enforcers was their creed. Ben knew why Ibis had brought them in to manage the new hotel. Ben resented it, but he understood. The Silk Road had been open a little over a month and was running smoother than most new places usually did.

With the exception of his own nest, and that wasn't much of an exception, you couldn't get normal vampires to live and work in Las Vegas. Martina's crowd were at least focused on their cause. It helped them avoid the other dangers the city offered. His own people ran the casino and security for the whole Silk Road operation. They didn't have to deal with Martina's crowd that much.

Ben only had to put up with her personally in these meetings, but that was more than enough. She really set his fangs on edge.

At the other end of the table, Ibis quietly cleared his throat. Ibis was always soft-spoken, but Ben listened when he talked. Along with everyone else, Ben turned his attention toward the owner of the Silk Road. Ibis was a small man, though he claimed he'd been average in his time, not that he ever-said what his mortal time was. There was an ancientness about him, but he wore it as well as he did the dark, well-tailored suit. He kept his head shaved, and tended to wear eyeliner, but those were his only affectations. Most people might have pegged Ibis as gay back in his mortal life, but Ben knew for a fact that Ibis kept at least two female companions, and most of his slaves were girls as well.

Besides, once you became a vampire, gender distinctions didn't matter, even if mortal prejudices took a little longer to fade. Ben's were still fading, even though he found himself paying more and more attention to Morgan Reese since the stage magician brought his act to the hotel. Reese wasn't a pretty boy, or in any way feminine, but he had a glow of genuine psychic talent to him that made Ben's mating fangs ache. He wasn't yet sure if he was going to make a move on the magician or not.

All Laws are lies.

Ben jumped. He shook his head and glared at the old vampire.

Ibis nodded after he put that thought into all their minds. He steepled his fingers, caught Martina's gaze with his own, and said in his soft, subtle way, "I have heard that saying for centuries. It is true in most cases, of course, for mortals as much as for strigoi. Laws are necessary for the survival of a society, my dear. They have nothing to do with justice. You youngsters tend to hunger for such luxuries as justice and free will, when survival is the best one can hope for. And power, of course, but power has more to do with hard work and planning than it does with a pa.s.sive concept like hope. We vampires are hungry all the time. Hunger for justice is good. Hunger for change is dangerous."

"I embrace the danger," Martina answered. "I don't hope. I plan."

And you shoot off your big mouth whenever you get a chance, Ben thought, carefully guarding his opinions from the others.

Ibis nodded. "I commend you for your dedication, Martini."

Martina hated the nickname, and studiously ignored the smiles and chuckles evoked by Ibis's use of it.

"But you don't embrace the fight for freedom," Martina said. Accused, rather.

"I don't attempt to hinder it," Ibis reminded her. "Your every word is against the Laws of the Blood, but do I try to silence you? I do believe in freedom of speech."

Martina sneered. It would have been impressive if there'd been a group of mortals sitting around the conference table. "You see the cause as my hobby."

Ibis shrugged. "Whatever gets you through the night. Now that you've interrupted real business," he went on, unlacing his fingers and putting his palms flat on the shiny black surface of the table, "tell us what it is you want, so we can get back to business."

Martina's sneer stayed in place. "Business. See what the Laws have brought us to?" Prosperity. Civilization.

The words drifted through all their minds. Ben didn't catch the ident.i.ty of which vampire had sent the thought, nor did he try very hard. Politics on any but the most local level of strigoi society didn't interest him.

"I want more," Martina stated.

Ben felt the annoyance and confusion that emanated from everyone but Ibis.

Ibis was not in the least surprised, and answered, "You want more than our contract states. Let me guess, you ask the freedom of the streets of this city for your nest."

"We came seeking knowledge," Martina replied.

"It will take you years to discover all the treasures in my library."

"Knowledge can be found in other places than your ancient archive."

"Of course. You've decided that vampire history isn't really all that interesting."

Martina didn't notice Ibis's sarcasm. "Knowledge is of no use unless it informs action."

"If you say so." Ibis sounded particularly bored. He looked bored, but Ben saw the irritation in the old vampire's dark, dark eyes.

Ben took a sip of his drink. He wanted to get this over with, but he kept quiet. Restlessness and irritation sang through the room. It was Dresser who finally demanded, "What are you getting at, Martina?"

"The freedom of the city."

"Why are you asking us?"

She sneered again, and gestured dramatically. "I ask Ibis."

Ben put his drink down hard on the shiny gla.s.s table. For the first time he spoke to the irritating female nest leader. "Ibis?"

It was the same soft, dangerous tone that sent chills through his enemies and subordinates back in his mortal life. Martina wasn't mortal, and she wasn't smart enough to recognize danger. What she probably saw when she looked at him was a young nest leader without power and prestige in strigoi society. She didn't know who she was dealing with, and she chose to ignore him, though Vegas was now and always had been his town.

Ben looked to Ibis, who gave him the faintest of conciliatory nods, but the owner of the Silk Road concentrated his attention on his troublesome hotel manager. "The traditional way of moving a nest into a new territory is to ask permission of the Enforcer of the City."

Of course, Martina laughed at this. "I do not deal with Enforcers. Not as a subordinate. You know that, Ibis. I do ask your approval."

Her gaze should have swept around to every other vampire in the room, but of course, she didn't bother. If she noticed the angry tension building at the table, she ignored it. Martina was not only a revolutionary, she was downright rude, or maybe just totally oblivious. She was up to something, of course, something to do with her schemes to change the world. The world was just fine as far as Ben was concerned, though it would be much better if Martina and her kind got out of town.

"What about Duke?" Dresser asked. "He's given permission for Martina's nest and ours to occupy the hotel. This is our territory."

Dresser was one of about a dozen vampires that called Ibis nest leader. Martina had ten vampires in her nest. Even adding companions and slaves to this group, the vampire population took up only a small percent of the rooms and extensive grounds of Las Vegas's latest destination resort.

"You're not supposed to leave the area," Ben spoke up. "That's the deal."

"I did not make that deal," Martina answered. "I do not deal with monsters who eat my kind. I am subject to no Enforcer. To no Law set down by a puppet shadow government."

"We've heard this before," Dresser complained. ''Maybe you don't obey the Laws, but Ibis does. You agreed to work for Ibis in exchange for access to ancient knowledge. Do you want to get him in trouble with the Enforcer of the City?"

Martina laughed. "The Enforcer of this city is no threat to anyone."

She was right about that, and Ben was thankful for it. Duke, or the Duke of Norfolk, as he claimed to have been back in his mortal life, was not what you'd call conscientious. Above all else, the Enforcer of the City wanted a quiet life.

"Just slip Duke a few thousand," Ben suggested. "He'll be happy to leave you alone. I can arrange it for you." And take my usual twenty percent of the deal, Ben added to himself.

"I do not bribe corrupt monsters. I ask no one's permission to do as I choose. But yours," she added, concentrating on Ibis again.

"Out of respect for your age and learning, I ask the freedom of the entire territory."

Ibis rested his hands on the table. "I see."

"She's going to cause trouble," Dresser complained.Ibis sighed. "I know." He kept his inscrutable gaze on Martina.

This is my town, Ben thought. She should ask me.

"Do what you will," Ibis told Martina. When she grinned with satisfaction, fangs gleaming brightly, he added, "The consequences will be on your head, child, not mine."

There's going to be trouble all right, Ben thought. He sent a glare toward the happy Martina, who was about to spread her crazy revolution out onto his streets. He wondered just what he could do to help that trouble along.

Chapter 1.

"LIGHT'S BEEN AROUND for a long time, of course."

"Well - yeah. You have heard of the Big Bang, haven't you?"

"I meant artificial light. Even when I was a youngster, there were certain - shall we say, weak-minded - individuals who'd have a little too much to drink and sit around staring into firelight for hours."

"Seems like a harmless hobby."

"Let me finish. It was hardly unknown for fire addicts to walk into a raging bonfire. The results were a bit - "

"Crispy?"

"Geoffrey, I'm not often in the mood to be instructive. Why don't you take me seriously when I am?"

"Sorry, Val." The truth was this was his first time in Vegas and what he really wanted to do was look at the lights.

"Oh."

Geoff Sterling was suddenly glad he wasn't the one driving the Cadillac convertible. He thought about closing his eyes, but the lights were so pretty... "Maybe you better continue being instructive."

"Uh-huh. Wise child." It was her turn to keep him out of trouble as he'd been doing with her for the last couple of years. "Being immortal doesn't make you invulnerable. There are certain - mental problems - that crop up from time to time in even the powerful, wise, and ancient ones. For example, I never thought I'd end up agoraphobic." The fact that they were in Las Vegas at all, and in a convertible with the top down, and that she was driving showed that the fear of open s.p.a.ces was a treatable one. The fact that she was so scared she was having trouble keeping her hunting claws and fangs from growing showed that the phobia wasn't going away. It was just something, like all things that went with being a vampire, that had to be controlled. "Pain in the a.s.s, really."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"I have noticed the death grip you have on the steering wheel." His head craned from side to side. Glitter everywhere! "Go on."

"Then there's light addiction," Valentine went on. "It's an ancient problem, but I have heard those who suffer from it called neon junkies. I'm afraid Las Vegas seems to attract a certain element." She paused, and finally stated, "It's a town full of losers."

Geoff felt her distaste, and he laughed, which pretty much brought him out of his fascination with all the brightness and color filling the desert night. "Valentine, you are such a sn.o.b."

She tossed her head, stirring the thick fall of black curls around her shoulders. "Young man, I've worked in Hollywood for over seventy years. I wouldn't have stayed in the business if I was a sn.o.b about sleazeb.a.l.l.s and losers."

"Hollywood sleazeb.a.l.l.s and losers are mortal. You expect better from your own kind. Madam, you are a vampire elitist."

"I'll admit that I do prefer a.s.sociating with a better cla.s.s of monster, but I hardly think I'm sn.o.bbish."

"Uh-huh."

She ignored these sarcastic syllables. "All I'm saying is that light is a dangerous thing. While we're here, you need to be careful."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Just me?"

"Light's not my downfall. Probably not yours, either, but be warned, be aware. This place is dangerous."

"It's Las Vegas," he answered. "It's artificial."

"So are bullets," she reminded him. "So's a dagger, come to think of it. We tool-using types are very good at creating nonnatural recipes for disaster. Vampires have good reason to both bless and curse that Thomas Edison fellow."

Geoff turned his face into the hot wind that blew up the street out of the desert. "I like this town," he said. "It's a hungry place.

Garish. Dark to the heart. I like that energy."

"It doesn't have a basketball team," Valentine complained. "How can you like a town without an NBA franchise?"

Geoff glanced at the fanciful architecture of the huge resorts on either side of Las Vegas Boulevard. He looked at the anonymous hordes of people on the sidewalks and the bridges crossing above the tangled traffic. He absorbed emotions and the essence of excited life. Adrenaline-soaked blood scented the night. You could get a buzz just from breathing around here. "It has other amenities."

"Doesn't feel that different than L.A. to me."

"You are old and jaded."

"No s.h.i.t. Actually," she added, slowing the car, "something about this place is making my skin crawl."

Valentine ignored the honking behind them and the cars swerving to pa.s.s them. She slowed the Cadillac practically to a stop, her gaze swinging from left to right. "Oh," she said finally, concentrating on the nearest hotel. A many-domed palace set in exotic gardens rose above the street. It looked like ancient Samarkand had been set down on the Strip.

Valentine made a face. "So that's die Silk Road."