Free Blood Therapy (Kismet Knight, Ph.D., Vampire Psychologist) by Lynda Hilburn

You’re aware of that, right?”
    “Of course,” she said, her expression serious as she leaned in to whisper, “every vampire in the world knows about that—it sent a shock wave through the entire community. Nobody thought Devereux could be defeated, even with a death-magic ritual. The vampire hierarchy has been rocked to its foundations. Doubts have surfaced about Devereux’s leadership.”
    “Damn.” I said aloud, more to myself than to her. “I hadn’t considered the ramifications to Devereux and his position in the hierarchy. Maybe that’s why he’s been so distracted lately. And so moody.”
    “Indeed. From what I understand, he’s enraged because he hasn’t been able to find this Lucifer creature, who was apparently a mental defective even as a human. My friend has become obsessed with seeking revenge. His pride is wounded—he’s never had his omnipotence questioned in such a way before, and I haven’t seen him this bloodthirsty for centuries. I pity the idiot when Devereux uncovers his lair. Quite frankly, he isn’t himself, and he’s stubbornly refusing to talk about it. He tends to dig in his heels. I mean, look at the way he refuses to join the twenty-first century. Unless it suits his purposes, and makes money, of course. He’s the hot topic at every vampire gathering. Listen.” She touched my ear with a finger and suddenly the volume knob for my hearing turned up several notches.
    “Oh yeah. Big, bad Devereux brought to his knees.”
    I turned my head toward a group of male vampires dressed like meth-lab refugees.
    “I can’t believe he had the nerve to show up here,” a Keith Richards look-alike said, “acting like everything’s fine. Everyone knows he’s been put in his place. About time, if you ask me.”
    “Yeah, nobody’s going to listen to him now,” agreed a fat, greasy-looking man with extensive facial scars and orange hair. “Always so high and mighty, telling us who and what we can kill. We should just throw his sissy ass out and find a new Master.”
    Anne touched my ear again, and, like a speaker clicking off, my hearing returned to normal. I brought my eyes back to her.
    Holy shit!
    “See what I mean? Devereux’s made many enemies in the vampire community because he takes a rational approach. He insists we remain hidden, keeping our existence secret. Others don’t agree. In fact, there’s a growing number who want vampires to be free to kill again, to be the predators we truly are. If it wasn’t for Devereux and those who follow him, humans would die by the thousands.”
    “Jesus.”
What?
“I had no idea Devereux was so pro-human and he was keeping us safe.”
    “Not pro-human,” Anne said, shaking her head. “He’s pro-vampire. He doesn’t want things to go back to the way they were in earlier times, when vampire slayers made it difficult for us to share the world with humans. Devereux enjoys his elevated position and mingling with humans like you. His ego is taking a beating, and he isn’t handling it well.”
    “That’s awful. He didn’t tell me.” My gaze followed another vampire approaching the donors, but I looked away before I could become distracted again by the bizarre scene. I dragged my eyes back to Anne’s. “I noticed something while Devereux was unconscious, or whatever he was. During those three weeks, even though he communicated with me in my dreams, I didn’t have the same overwhelming desire to be near him that I’d experienced previously and have again since he regained consciousness. It was as if I’d been set free, in some strange way.”
    She raised a brow, surprised.
    “I know,” I said, “that probably doesn’t make any sense.”
    “On the contrary, it makes perfect sense. While Devereux was out of commission, his influence over your brain diminished. In essence, you became yourself again.”
    I tensed and sat silently for a few seconds, letting her words sink in. Her statement felt very important. I barely noticed