Laws of the Blood 1: The Hunt by Susan Sizemore

containers circled the fountain. A smell of hot grease assailed the senses, masking the warm scent of human that was already dulled by the cold air. Gary waited for them, seated near the west entrance. He was one of about ten people scattered at the tables, none near where Gary sat. The slave was sipping on a soft drink when they came up. There was a pile of french fries spread out on a tray in front of him, and a great many empty packets of ketchup were scattered around the fries. He nodded amiably as Selim took the seat across from him.
    Selim dipped a fry into a pool of ketchup in the middle of Gary’s tray. “Don’t bother to get up.”
    “I won’t.” Gary hiked one shoulder higher than the other and assumed a stupid accent. “Unless you want me to fetch you a hamburger, master.”
    “Nah. The meat’s always overcooked at these places.” Selim popped the fried potato in his mouth, then let ketchup linger dramatically on his lips for a moment before licking it off.
    Gary snorted and dropped the Igor pose. He glanced briefly at Sterling, who remained standing uncertainly by the table. “Your friend’s being obvious.”
    “He’s not my friend,” Sterling answered.
    “He’s talking to me,” Gary complained to Selim.
    “Don’t get formal on me now,” Selim said to the slave. To the vampire he said, “Sit.” Sterling sneeredbut did as he was told. “If you’re looking for a foster mother, you can talk to Miriam after the hunt. Until then, strig,” Selim informed Sterling, “you will leave those in her nest alone.”
    “Oh. Sorry.” Sterling looked at Selim as he spoke, but the word was aimed at Gary.
    Finding a well-mannered vampire in need of a good home beneath the posing and silly getup gave Selim hope for the boy. The strig pulled up a chair and took a seat without noticing how obedient he was. Selim turned his attention from Sterling to concentrate on the more important part of the evening. “Is he here?” he asked Gary.
    The slave nodded. “Following Miriam. I saw his car follow hers away from the house. I wish you hadn’t told her to lure that creep into the mall alone.”
    Miriam was small, a good-humored intellectual who lived in a world of ideas and clever conversation. She was shy, as many of their kind were. Selim could see how the members of her family could be concerned at the idea of her being out alone with a sicko stalker on her tail. He didn’t bother reassuring Gary that she’d be fine. He ate another french fry and waited.
    Gary took the hint. “Joe’s at the east entrance of the court now. Andrew’s in the north. Miriam said she’d come in through the south. What do we do once he gets here?”
    “Miriam and Andrew will know.”
    Selim knew exactly where each member of Miriam’s nest waited. Andrew was hungry and surprised at the intensity of it. Joseph had never been more excited in his life, but he had no idea why. He thought it had something to do with righteousness, with justice, with protecting his lady. Curiosity was almost as strong in Gary as his urge to protect his mistress. Miriam was the most in control of the group. A fine sense of irony edged her hunger, and the hunger was overlaid with the need to protect her people. She wanted to get this over with and get back to her normal life. Her stalker was happy,gleefully obsessed with having the woman he wanted so vulnerably within reach. He was too focused on Miriam to notice anything else. The few humans still in the food court were alert to danger, on some primitive, subconscious level. Selim was reminded of nature programs he’d seen on television, the sort that showed wary herd beasts scattered across the Serengeti as hyenas stalked prey around them. Beside him, Geoff Sterling’s sulky anger was giving way to restlessness and growing arousal.
    Selim picked up some more ketchup-dipped potatoes. “Want some of these?” He asked the strig.
    Sterling looked around at the scattering of humans. One of them met