Vampire Trinity (35 page)

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Authors: Joey W. Hill

BOOK: Vampire Trinity
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“No. I’ve acquired the best.”
Her vampire’s eyes darkened in fierce agreement, his mouth firming. “Then tonight, focus all you are on helping him. He will think he can shut it all out, everything they do to him. He will believe if he goes on autopilot, he will be all right. Vampires are the cruelest, most clever Dominants imaginable. They can take away the deepest anesthetic of the soul, hold it above a human head and laugh as he struggles for it. As a result, he will need the sanctuary of
your
soul—the soul of the best Dominant I know—to survive tonight.”
13
G
O numb.
Just as Daegan predicted, that was what Gideon had decided would be his best strategy. She could hear it in his mind when he came out of the shower at last. She hated to knock him out of his false calm so quickly, but she’d been thinking. Presentation, drama . . . the impact of appearance. These were all parts of her skills, and she was keenly aware they would be useful tonight. Looking through the extra wardrobe items she’d brought also gave her something to do other than go insane at the idea that she was about to lead him into the same kind of alley she’d experienced, only he’d be fully aware of what could happen there as he walked into it.
Once she had him dressed, he stood in front of the mirror, scowling at himself. “I look like one of the Village People.”
Anwyn rolled her eyes. “Shut up or I’ll put my foot up your backside.”
“That might prepare it for tonight,” he jested, a brittle note to his voice.
Impulsively, she slid her arms around his chest from behind, putting her cheek against his shoulder. “Gideon, I hate this. I hate it so much. But no matter what happens, I’ll be with you. If things get too difficult, you come into my mind, you hear me? You talk to me, cry out to me, whatever you need to do to get through it alive. That’s what matters most to me. That we’re all headed out together on that plane as soon as possible.”
He clasped her hand, his grip almost bruising. “Don’t worry. I can handle the dinner. These clothes, on the other hand . . .”
Knowing about vampire “dinners,” Daegan had encouraged her to include such garments in their suitcases as a precaution. As a result, before they left, she’d made a short foray with Daegan to the fetish store that Atlantis had on its premises. The fetish fashionista that ran it assured her the newest line of men’s pants, made with a cunning combination of latex and spandex, would mold a slave’s body in a way that would make her order him to wear them seven days a week. Looking at Gideon now, she had to agree.
She’d been familiar with all the store’s offerings, but had found herself looking at them with a new eye. She’d considered the Cocoon, a suit that encapsulated the slave from head to toe, trapping his arms and legs inside a tight latex mesh, with zippers at the crotch, mouth, nipples and buttocks. Of course, since Gideon was chafing at one pair of tight pants, she knew it was good she’d left that one in the store. For now. She’d use that at a later time, when his only source of anxiety was what she might demand of him, not a phalanx of vampires.
It was good to be thinking of the future, thinking of her club, of having him serve her. A life beyond all this. She couldn’t afford to get upset about the rest, the thought that Gideon was being despicably sacrificed for her preservation.
When he turned self-consciously at her command, she forced herself to concentrate on this moment. This man. At least her vampire and female libidos didn’t have any problem changing focus. In fact, they responded vehemently to the display. The pants fit like a second skin, shiny, sleek and black, molding the curvature of the buttocks, the groin area so that the cock and balls made a tempting and very eye-catching package. It took a very fit man to pull off something that defined every muscle group so distinctly, and he did it—in spades. She’d kept his upper body bare, wanting the Council to see the impressive musculature and scars, reminding them of his capabilities. The trinity mark would remind them of what he’d decided to do with them instead.
His carefully crafted appearance was intended to make a psychological impact on the Council. So, too, was the last item in her hands, but that wasn’t why she’d purchased it. She’d bought it because of its psychological impact on
her
. Ostensibly, she could tell herself it had to do with this “performance,” but she wasn’t in the habit of lying to herself. The price she’d paid for it had been far more significant than what she’d pay for a simple showpiece. When Daegan had watched her charge her store account for it, by his silence she knew he understood.
“You know, when you get worried, sometimes you still drop that screen between our minds, the one that keeps your thoughts and gremlins down to a dull roar, like a dinner crowd at a nice restaurant.” Gideon sat down on the ottoman. He’d been sitting there earlier so she could use charcoal to embellish his third mark. She’d made the scarlet teardrops stand out more dramatically. He seemed surprised the pants gave easily, since they looked so tight, but she knew the fabric combination gave him almost full flexibility.
“Yes. I’m still working on that.”
“Hmm.” Gideon slid off the ottoman, dropped to one knee before her, making her throat thicken. It put his head on a level just above her waist, at her breasts, and while his gaze flickered there, it was to her face he went.
“You know, a lady used to give a knight a favor, telling him that whatever he did, it was in her honor. I think this is kind of similar, in a way. Don’t you?” His gaze moved to the collar in her hands.
“Does it help you to think of it that way?”
“Maybe. Am I right?”
“It’s a part of it. But you’re wrong. Not about that, but about your brother being the only knight in the family.” It gave her poignant pleasure to touch his hair, brush a fallen lock back over his brow. “He might be Sir Galahad, but I think you’re gruff Sir Kay. No less noble or brave, merely rough at the edges.”
He seemed charmingly taken aback by that, but she looked down at the object in her hand. “Gideon, I don’t really think in terms of boy-friends, or lovers. I’ve never wanted a husband. That’s not who I am. When you walked into Atlantis, I looked at every inch of your powerful body, the wariness in your eyes, the danger you carry with you, the pain and nobility, the intelligence and resourcefulness. You know what I thought?”
She knew he was capable of delivering a smartass comment at the most inappropriate times, but this time he didn’t. He waited for her to answer her own question, gazing up at her with those serious blue eyes.
“That’s
my
slave. Mine.”
His mind tumbled that over, but didn’t outright reject it. “So that’s what this collar says. No matter what happens tonight, you’re mine. They won’t take that away from me, from us. Even though they might have something to prove, you still belong to me. Your pleasure is my property. I won’t see it abused.” She gripped the collar, and felt the power of it vibrate up her fingertips. “I asked you to trust me, before I became this. Will you trust me to be your Mistress tonight, Gideon? Everything after that, we’ll negotiate. Vampire or not, I go in there as a Mistress. Will you go in as my slave?”
“Yes.” Seeing and feeling the core of her resolve, so strong it rippled over his skin like erotic heat, Gideon spoke from his heart. “Anwyn or Mistress, they’re the same to me. I can’t claim to understand what I want or need most days, but the answer to that one is clear enough in my head. I’m yours. Whenever you need me, however you need me.”
Within limits.
But she knew his limits, didn’t she? When she put the collar on his throat, sliding the buckle into place, her fingers lingering, Gideon felt the emotion well up inside her. It was like a divine energy, a strong magic that held him still beneath her hands, as if he was part of a sacred ritual in truth. Fleetingly, he wondered if this might be what marriage felt like, that commitment to forever. What he might have felt sooner, if they’d had more time to do the third marking the way he’d heard it was supposed to be done.
The collar was definitely for a male slave, a wide three-inch strap with prongs worked into it so there was a warning prick of steel all the way around the top and bottom edges. Two long lengths of chain ran from the front steel loop, and fastened to two matching cuffs she tightened over his wrists. She closed her hand on those two lengths of chain where they met at that collar loop and followed them down, drawing his hands together until they rested on his knee and he felt the pull against his throat. Her gaze was molten, a blue-green sea under a hot sun, so that his skin burned beneath it. Latex didn’t have as much give as it first seemed, for his cock swelled painfully, pushing its limits. His body responded to that collar in a primal way, and he couldn’t control it. The collar was the sign of her ownership, his fealty to her. Whom he served.
His own fervency made him uncomfortable. Better able to handle his physical reaction than his incomprehensible emotional one, he let his gaze pass over her. She’d prepared herself as well. She’d put a sleek corset over a black bodysuit. There was a brace of topaz at her throat, one additional sparkling pin to dress her hair. A loose braided belt, studded with silver metal pieces, embellished the corset, low on her hips. Thigh-high boots with her trademark stiletto heels inspired a sudden desire to put his mouth on them, a peculiar feeling he hadn’t experienced before.
“My ankle, Gideon,” she said softly. “The material is very soft. I’ll feel your mouth through it.”
He bent, not caring about the extreme subservient position as he brought his lips to the creased ankle of those sexy-as-hell boots encasing sexy-as-hell legs. She shifted, putting the other boot on the curve of his bare back, holding him in the clamshell position as she adjusted a lacing, the point of the heel digging into his flesh. Catching his hair, she brought his head up, his mouth mere inches from her pussy. His nostrils flared so he could almost taste the scent through the thin fabric, saliva gathering on his tongue. “Smell that arousal? That’s all for you, Gideon. Be good tonight and you might get some of that.”
“I expect I might get more if I’m bad.” He tossed his head back against her hold, gave her a shit-eating grin. She bared her fangs at him.
“I’ll be happy to beat him if you’d like to watch,” Daegan offered, now standing in the doorway to his room.
Before they could respond to that, there was a knock on the door and an envelope slid beneath it. Glancing at Anwyn, Daegan retrieved it, looked at the addressee and extended it to her. “Apparently the Council has before-dinner instructions for you.”
Anwyn took it, turned it over in her hands and opened it. From where he now stood, Gideon could see only several lines of writing, but her mouth tightened in a hard line, matched by a sharp, vicious anger that electrified her mind and sent her shadows stirring with blood-thirsty eagerness. Daegan stepped closer and Gideon became instantly more alert. “What is it, Anwyn?”
“Damn it.” She closed her eyes, shook her head, fighting for calm. She handed it to Daegan. As he read it, his brow creased.
“They want me to dress in women’s underwear,” Gideon guessed, hoping they’d tell him before he had to snatch it from them or pluck it out of Anwyn’s head.
“Nothing so dire,” the vampire said, though there was a spark of angry fire in his gaze as he glanced at him. “They want Anwyn to mark you in some way before we arrive. Something that will have some pain and blood associated with it, so they can see that you stood for it.”
“Why not once we get there?” she asked. “Wouldn’t they want to see me do it?”
“This is just an appetizer, Anwyn,” Daegan said quietly.
Her expression hardened. “Bastards,” she said with quiet viciousness. “Gideon—”
“Your belt,” Gideon nodded to it, meeting her gaze. “It’s a whip, isn’t it? It’ll do as well as anything. They like floggings. Jacob told me.”
When she said nothing, her eyes stormy, he cocked his head. “You get aroused at the thought of flogging me. You like pain, Mistress.”
“Just because I can’t keep you out of my head when I get upset is no reason to take advantage of it,” she snapped. “And I like pain if it takes the submissive in the proper direction. You don’t do it just to torture a person.”
“I don’t suspect you will be.” Conscious of Daegan’s regard, trying not to think about the indecent fit of his clothes, Gideon took a step forward. Deliberately, he let his gaze wander over her, just a shade on the insolent side. “The thought of it makes you hot. You’re already creaming the nonexistent thong you’re wearing under those fuck-me pants.”
She narrowed her gaze. “You think baiting me will make me accept this?”
“That’s my hope.” He forced heat and challenge into his expression. Whether it was the overabundance of nerves and emotion in the room, or anger, it wasn’t really feigned. He took another step, deliberately using his greater height and weight to intimidate her. “One of the things you like about me is that I’m tough to tame. That we could go three hundred years together and I’d never be your pet.”
Anwyn unclipped the whip, let it slither off her hips in a practiced sensual move that made Gideon’s cock harden even further. Was it possible for a dick to suffocate? Jesus, it was painful. And pleasurable at once. He was glad he hadn’t had to walk more than a couple of steps.

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