Authors: Joey W. Hill
Vampire Trinity (62 page)
“Lazy prick,” Gideon managed, his voice too strained. He couldn’t stand it, now that the feeling was washing past him, leaving him behind, bereft, adrift. But Daegan’s arm locked around his chest. He pulled Gideon down so he sat on his ass on the dusty boards, his body braced between Daegan’s powerful thighs as the vamp held that half-kneeling position.
“You went as far as you could go to get out of range of her mind, Gideon.” His voice was that silky murmur against his ear. The longer hair brushed it, a caress. “You are unnecessarily cruel to yourself. If you had stayed closer, we could call to her now, and she could come into your mind, show you how she might be in your lap, kissing your mouth, rubbing her beautiful, soft ass against your cock, making it hard again. Teasing you with the give of her sweet breasts against your chest. Demanding you open your mouth to her, let her strip you down and ride you, possess you as she was meant to do. You are hers.”
“She doesn’t want me; you don’t need me. She has you.”
“Yes, she does have me,” Daegan acknowledged, in an arrogant tone that made Gideon briefly consider stabbing him through his excellent-quality shoe. “But we don’t have you. And we both want you. Need you.”
Abruptly he yanked Gideon’s head back, hard enough that tendons and bones groaned. When he covered Gideon’s mouth, made him submit to the heated kiss, taste his own blood on Daegan’s tongue, Gideon strangled on a half sob.
“I’m fucking broken,” Gideon choked out in his embrace. “I’m lost, Daegan. I’m just lost.”
He couldn’t believe he was admitting it so baldly, like some little kid, sitting in this warehouse almost near tears, for Christ’s sake. But he didn’t know what else to do, and Daegan . . . Well, hell, Daegan just brought this shit out of him.
“No, you are not.” Daegan’s arm tightened around him. “She found you, Gideon. She found us both. You can heal. It is only you standing in the way of that.”
Daegan slid his fingers down into Gideon’s T-shirt, found the mark with unerring accuracy, tracing the three small scars. “Use your brain instead of your dick. Think about what this means. I had to point it out to Anwyn as well. Daft humans.”
He pressed his fang back against Gideon’s throat, not breaking the skin this time, just letting him feel the enamel, the wet, hot promise of it again. “She needs you . . . and so do I. Come home when you’re ready, but come home. And when you do, I’m going to make you pay for every tear she’s shed for you.”
He straightened abruptly, though his hand lingered along Gideon’s nape long enough for Gideon to confirm he could sit up on his own. He realized that was why Daegan had done it, cosseting him. But before he could form words, Daegan shifted in front of him. Gideon stared at his shoes, the dark jeans. He wanted so badly to look at all of him, but he was here, on his ass, and it would be like being on his knees . . . wanting to be on his knees.
“Thank you for the meal, vampire hunter.”
Gideon dropped his forehead onto those knees, stared between his own shoes. Daegan was taking off. Of course. “Yeah, sure. Me and Mc-Donald’s. Drive-thru open all night.”
He was startled when those long fingers slid under his chin, jerking up his head, not so gently this time. “You’re not doing this.” Daegan nodded toward the window, where Allan was moving past. John had already gone by, Gideon’s opportunity to save his life lost. “For one thing, you should have realized Allan Walker was a Ranger before he was a vampire. He would have killed you.” Daegan held Gideon’s gaze, wouldn’t let him shift away, even though Gideon felt his cheeks begin to burn with the knowledge there. “Though obviously you know that.”
The vampire’s firm lips tightened, a flash in his eyes reminding Gideon of the seemingly long-ago time when Daegan had pinned him in the weapons room and fucked him for the first time, a sensual and savage reproof for a death wish. “Regardless, you will not punish others in a failed attempt to reclaim a belief you no longer have. You’re better than that, Gideon Green. Deal with it; accept who you have become. Understand what you are being offered and be courageous enough to accept it.”
His tone softened slightly. “If you have the courage to do that, perhaps you can rely on Anwyn and me to help with the rest.”
Then he was gone, with that Holy-Transporter-Beam speed that irritated Gideon mainly because it was so damned impressive. He thought about getting up. Getting his gun, if nothing else. Instead, he let himself fall back to the warehouse floor. He covered his face with his arms to hide from the truth he couldn’t bear to face in himself, but that didn’t stop his heart, neck and groin from throbbing, still stirred by the impressions Daegan had left on them.
22
B
LOCKING Gideon out of her mind was something Anwyn had integrated into her daily routine, her usual disciplines. When he’d been out of geographic range, she hadn’t had to devote any energy to it, and maybe she should have been grateful he’d done that for the first month he’d been gone. Now, though, he was back in range. The first second she’d been aware of it, it had been an amazing relief, like when she was a little girl, staying beneath the water of the swimming pool as long as she possibly could, then surging up to savor the sweetness of oxygen.
LOCKING Gideon out of her mind was something Anwyn had integrated into her daily routine, her usual disciplines. When he’d been out of geographic range, she hadn’t had to devote any energy to it, and maybe she should have been grateful he’d done that for the first month he’d been gone. Now, though, he was back in range. The first second she’d been aware of it, it had been an amazing relief, like when she was a little girl, staying beneath the water of the swimming pool as long as she possibly could, then surging up to savor the sweetness of oxygen.
Careless of who saw her, she’d raced back to their apartment with all the fledgling speed she had. Finding him not there had been a crushing blow. Realizing that all it meant was he was within a few hundred miles of her made her furious with herself, her weakness, so she’d made a new resolve. She would keep her mind blocked to him at all times, no matter how close he was. He could come find her if he wanted something, though of course he wouldn’t. That was the whole problem.
Remarkably, despite her self-imposed boycott, just having the connection active again had diminished the power of the voices in her head and the severity of her seizure episodes. She should have been happy at the evidence that she might not need his immediate proximity to help with that, but she wanted that proximity too much.
Keeping that checkpoint between her mind and his, not allowing herself to set one toe over it because she knew she wouldn’t be able to bear it if his mind was crying out for her, was every bit as difficult. As he got even closer, Kentucky, Tennessee, she immersed herself in the now-ongoing club renovations, but stressed herself out too much. Though Gideon’s nearness might have helped the strength of the seizures and the volume of the voices, her frayed nerves could still increase the frequency with which she had to deal with them. She and Daegan had several near misses, where a seizure began when she was among staff personnel. After that, she forced herself to work in cautious increments, and kept her mind fully open and connected to Daegan when she was outside their rooms.
It was a limited existence, but he’d warned her it would be a long while before they had enough of a handle on it that she could trust herself to manage fluctuations in her stress and not have the convulsions. Brian was continuing to work on an improved injection, but that was in the future. He and Debra had stopped by for several days on a research trip to Texas. Daegan had left her for two days then, indicating he had to finish up a small bit of Council business. But other than that, he hadn’t left her at all. She knew that couldn’t go on forever.
Though they’d had more than one struggle of wills over it, Daegan encouraging her to mark James, she refusing, she knew she’d eventually have to choose a new third-mark servant and get a grip on the stress. If for no other reason than it wasn’t fair to Daegan. He needed to have the freedom to resume whatever role he wished for the Council, though he pointed out that was an expectation she was setting, not him. He’d indicated he had no interest in lengthy assignments that took him away from her.
She had no intention of turning into a long-term burden, though, even if he refused to view it that way. When she finally forced herself to think over her choices, she knew he was right, that James was the likely candidate. Still she hedged, until that sense of Gideon told her that he was getting farther away again, headed toward New England. Then she broke down and did it. Partially. She gave James the first and second marks.
Right afterward, she’d had to flee to their quarters, running straight to the cell, knowing that the jagged pain in her chest was going to explode in her head, the gremlins tearing her apart from the inside out. She’d locked herself in, refusing Daegan’s help, and fallen to the cell floor, hated tears flooding anew as she writhed and screamed.
It was giving up, the first, definitive step to truly letting Gideon go. Accepting that he wasn’t coming back anytime soon.
Daegan had explained, unnecessarily, that she didn’t have to worry that James could cause her the same pain as Gideon. Most vampire-servant relationships, while physically intimate, were not the emotional bond she’d formed with Gideon. It was just a different level of employee/ employer relationship.
She’d managed a dry, humorless laugh at that idea. As Daegan had said, James was willing to serve her. When they’d initially talked about it, the staid and quiet male had shocked her—not an easy feat—by saying he thought he could handle the demands of a servant in vampire society, if ever she wanted to give him that third mark and she and Daegan needed to travel or entertain vampire company.
She wasn’t sure if he knew what he was saying, but at least on its face, he was appropriate on all levels, right? He was her security chief after all. While his insight into her shifts of moods wouldn’t be as good as Gideon’s precognitive sense, with the marks he could anticipate the seizures well enough, and he had the training and dispassion needed to put the restraints on her. She had Daegan for love, and in the vampire world, the strength of her feelings for Gideon, a human, weren’t appropriate, even if he wasn’t an infamous vampire hunter.
But she still couldn’t bring herself to give James that third mark.
Despite Daegan’s pressure in that area, she sensed he was more reluctant about it than he wanted her to know. When they were intimate, curled up in his bed together, hands interlaced, his body moving on hers, eyes clasped in hers, mind open, she knew he felt the emptiness around them in the shape of a person that should be there, as she did. They didn’t want anyone else. They both wanted Gideon.
She wondered if the powder keg that represented her feelings about Gideon would eventually explode her brain, so she wouldn’t have to face the aching truth. Needing him wasn’t a choice. She didn’t know how or why he’d become so vital, but she wasn’t sure if she would survive without the balance of his presence beside her. On those days, she knew if she could go back in time, she would have kept him on whatever terms or lies were necessary. They would have ended up hating each other.
That said, she wasn’t sure if what she felt was joy or murderous fury when she woke early one evening, emerging from her daytime slumber, and sensed Gideon sitting in their living room, waiting for them both to wake.
She didn’t raise that curtain between their minds. It had been down long enough that it was weighted with her emotions, rusty and inflexible. She wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. In the late-afternoon hours, she’d risen from Daegan’s bed, come back to her own as she often did, to lay and stare at her ceiling in a lethargic drift of thoughts, needing that time to collect herself for the day ahead. It took so much energy to handle those voices. Sometimes she wanted Daegan to cut off her head so she wouldn’t have to listen to their damn noise anymore.
Now they were quiet. Waiting, like Gideon was. As she always did, she went to her shower, let the water wake her up fully. Brushed her teeth and hair. Slid a silken wrap over her shoulders and then turned her feet toward her doorway. She stood there for several moments, wondering what she would have done if he’d left while she was pulling herself together to face him. Probably run him down like a one-woman pack of wolves, even naked and dripping wet.
He was quiet out there, too. All through her shower, his mind touched her, a caressing knock she refused to answer. It was as if he were leaning against the door, stroking the wood, flattening his palm against it. Waiting her out. She didn’t give herself to fear, but he was the match to that powder keg, perilously close. She trembled in the grip of it when she put her hand on the door, forced herself to stop and take a breath.
Willing submission. That means willing dominance as well. If he’s offering himself, I take him back because I want him, desire him, not because I think I have no other choice. I refuse to be that weak, that person who needs another so desperately I would beg to keep him.
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