Vampire Trinity Part 5

Anwyn gave him a sidewise smile, a tiny curl of her pretty lips, then slowed for a light. She lowered her window, perversely liking the warming seats on her delectable a.s.s while she felt the cool air on her face, through her hair. Now she stretched her arm out the window, fanning out her fingers. Several times this week she'd taken the elevator to the roof apartment of Atlantis and sat out by the pool, staring up at the moon and stars, but she really hadn't experienced fresh air outside the property.

Gideon studied her profile, the firm chin and slim nose, the vibrant blue-green eyes that held so much. He knew the thoughts that moved behind them like ocean waves, liked being immersed in that flow, knowing no matter how happy or sad she was, it helped her for him to be there. He felt so connected to her this way. Even if he left, he wondered if he'd want that reversal of the marking, or if he'd prefer to carry this with him, so that when he was in range, he could have brief glimpses of the deep connection he'd shared with her, despite the abhorrent reason it had all happened.

"Look," she murmured. Gideon tuned in, followed her glance out the window and stilled at the sight of the b.u.t.terfly that had landed in her palm. Its wings pumped slowly, just like the dream he'd seen in her mind a couple weeks ago. Then, like now, she brought her fingers slowly up, formed a loose cage around the tiny creature. When she opened them again, the b.u.t.terfly continued to dry its wings for several pumps before it fluttered off.

"Like your dream," he murmured. It was a cool night, and though they were in the South, it wasn't the usual time of year for b.u.t.terflies. He told himself not to get stupid, but it couldn't help but make him wonder. Was it all predestined, all he was doing with her? Was he meant to be with her, not just now, but more than now? That word hung on his tongue. Forever Forever. Forever as a vampire's servant. Forever as Anwyn's.

But she wouldn't be his. It wasn't a two-way street, and that was what he knew kept hanging him up the most. That, and the knowledge that what they'd done with Brian and Debra had been tame next to the stories he'd heard. Anwyn had respected his wishes about Brian, but in mixed company, with more senior vampires, they'd test her by testing what she would do to her servant. She would need a servant absolutely willing to do and be everything she needed him to be, no matter his personal hang-ups. That wasn't him. Too many years, too many scars. Way too much history. He could handle someone like Brian, even Daegan, but he knew the types of vampires she would have to meet and play politics with. Vampires like those he'd killed.

On top of that, he'd become a servant to help her, not because he was one. If he had a woman, that woman was his, not someone who could share herself with whomever she liked. Call him a Neanderthal; that was the way it worked. The b.i.t.c.h of it was, he knew she was it, the one he wanted. There wouldn't be any more after her. Just more hookers, more brief hookups driven by loneliness and a need to get whatever drops of emotion he could out of the situation. He'd go mad with it.

No. No, he wouldn't. Because he would take every second he had with her now, burn it into his memory. Not just what she looked like on the outside, but the emotional terrain of her mind, every tear and smile, every quiet or crazy moment. He'd remember all of it, and use it like a monk's mantra to hold to a vow of loyalty to her.

Did she hear any of that? He wasn't sure he wanted her to hear it, and was glad when it appeared that she hadn't, her gaze on the city airport approaching ahead. d.a.m.n b.u.t.terfly was just a fluke of nature, was all.

They entered the terminal drop-off area and brought Debra and Brian to their gate. Gideon got out of the car, helped Debra get their luggage to a sky cap. The equipment was being s.h.i.+pped by a special freight company on to Brian's next destination, so they carried only their clothes. They packed light. Debra turned to Gideon, smiled up at him. "I didn't know if I'd like you, but I do. You're a good man, Gideon. I hope never to see you again."

He blinked, not sure he'd heard her correctly, but she stepped closer, gave him a serious, straightforward look. "Don't talk yourself into being her servant for longer than you should. There's a lot of bad feeling among the servants toward you, particularly about what you did in South America at the Gathering. You won't be welcomed by them, and believe me, you really need the support of other servants when you get in groups. It can be harsh sometimes, the things that go on. You're tough, but you're not cut out to let yourself go the way you need to do to serve her fully."

"I know that."

She tapped his head. "This knows that." Her hand settled over his heart. "But this doesn't. Good luck."

"Why don't you you have bad feelings toward me?" have bad feelings toward me?"

"Maybe because Lord Brian and I aren't as integrated into that world. We're a bit of an oddity. And no one I deeply cared about was killed." She lifted on her toes, slid her arms around his shoulders, squeezed. "Plus, I care very much about your brother, and you look and act too d.a.m.n much like him. Makes it hard for me to dislike you. You two are like knights from an ancient world, trying to live up to codes of chivalry long gone. Be careful, and be safe. I'd like to know you're alive out there. Teach martial arts, go get a job at Disneyland, whatever. Just get out of this as soon as you can, and stop being a vampire hunter. You already know it doesn't make sense anymore."

Letting him go, she turned away, joined Brian, leaving him surprised at what she'd noticed, for all that she appeared quiet and completely immersed in her work. But then, her Master was the same way, wasn't he? Both of them noticing far too d.a.m.n much.

Having made his good-byes to Anwyn, Brian lifted his hand to Gideon, gave him a courteous nod, a proper good-bye from a vampire to a servant. "I'll keep Daegan informed about the status on Barnabus."

Gideon grunted. "If you need someone to go stake his black heart, you don't need to wait for Daegan. I'll be happy to do it."

Brian shook his head, a scientist's resignation with the unenlightened, which Gideon preferred to call academia-with-its-head-shoved-up-its-a.s.s, but then the vampire nodded once more, gesturing to Debra to head with him into the terminal.

Getting back into the car, Gideon sat silently with Anwyn for a couple of moments, both of them following their progress. Brian's handsomeness and Debra's muted appeal were enough to turn heads toward them. Laying a hand on her lower back, Brian guided her past a group of outgoing pa.s.sengers, rolling their carry-ons behind them.

"I'm going to miss them. Not necessarily because I wanted them to stay longer, though they were lovely houseguests, but because it feels like they were an important moment, something that has to move on, but still needs to be mourned."

"Yeah. Know that feeling." Gideon cleared his throat. "How about we head for the private airstrip, go pick up that bloodsucking boyfriend of yours?"

Anwyn nodded, not looking toward him. "Okay."

It was about midnight when they pulled up to the small airfield. "The only thing that's landed is a Gulfstream," Gideon noted.

"That's his." Anwyn gave a faint smile at his snort. "Well, he does a lot of traveling for his job."

"Being the Council's private a.s.sa.s.sin pays well."

She gave him a sidelong glance. "How have you funded your . . . missions?"

Gideon's jaw tightened. She didn't intend it, but perhaps because of how much he didn't want her to know, it flashed to the front of his mind, harsh and bright, so she couldn't overlook it. "You took money from your victims?" Her brow rose.

"They weren't victims," Gideon said shortly. "They were vampires. And it's not like I was using it to buy a fancy plane, or a car that heats my a.s.s for me."

"That's true," she said neutrally. "Though I don't really know how Daegan got his money. I don't know if the Council pays him, or if it's just something that's expected of him. It's a pretty feudal society, from what I can tell."

"Yeah." Gideon focused on the airstrip. The pilot was talking to the controller, signing some paperwork.

Anwyn didn't see Daegan, though she was sure he'd notice their arrival. He was probably in the terminal. She ran a fingernail along the curve of the steering wheel.

"So how does it work? If you killed me, would you take my purse off my body, see if you could find bank account numbers or credit cards? Or would you go to my home before anyone knew I was gone, take valuables?"

"Anwyn, don't." He spoke through stiff lips. "I've made money other ways. The occasional protection job. And our parents left us pretty well set up. It was invested for us, divided equally. I just don't like to draw from that."

"Not when you can take from the vampires you kill."

He turned to look at her. "How about you answer a question for me? The last vamp I took murdered a twenty-four-year-old nurse behind the generator station at her hospital. He drained her dry. She had a fiance, a life. They wanted kids, and she volunteered at a battered women's shelter. She also liked to go s.h.a.g dancing on weekends and her favorite drink was a blackberry mojito. She had brown eyes as soft as velvet, and a great smile. What do you think she'd say about me lifting her murderer's wallet to fund my next kill, so someone else like her doesn't have to die? Think she'd be sitting there acting so d.a.m.n self-righteous?"

The coldness in his eyes pierced her heart, because it matched the frost that covered his mind. But something else penetrated. Daegan had spoken of Gideon's last kill. The night he came to you, he killed a vampire who didn't deserve his brand of justice. The night he came to you, he killed a vampire who didn't deserve his brand of justice. Was this vampire Gideon had just described someone different? Someone Daegan didn't know about? Was this vampire Gideon had just described someone different? Someone Daegan didn't know about?

Gideon's gaze was still on her. At her thoughts, something flickered in his gaze, a realization that sent a shaft of alarm through his mind. Abruptly, his brain was flooded with the tabloid images from earlier in the day, random commercials, his interest in Gulfstreams, the fact he had an itch behind his knee . . . It was so instantaneous, she knew he'd been practicing it, ways to thwart her ability to read his mind, his own version of the curtain she practiced.

Daegan had said that, once fully marked, a servant couldn't escape a vampire, not if she was determined to plumb his mind all the way to the soul. She remembered there was a caution involved in that, one of the reasons fledgings didn't have servants, but her instinctive reaction didn't care for such caveats. That cold withdrawal sparked something inside her. The woman Anwyn would be nursing hurt, the Mistress some anger, but the vampire reacted in a much more aggressive way. In a heartbeat, she wanted to shove through that debris he was throwing up in front of her, toss it out of the way and rip away any s.h.i.+elding to find whatever it was he was hiding from her. Her blood wanted to prove he had no right to raise his voice to her, show him how vulnerable his mind was to whatever she desired to know.

The force of it frightened her, because this was no seizure, no fit of bloodl.u.s.t. This was something integrating with what she was, an evolution into something else she seemed powerless to stop. Opening the car door, she shoved out of it, even though she was still in her bare feet. She strode a few feet away, blindly, trying to get a handle on the anger, find her humanity amid that demand. It was a close reflection of her own burning desire, taking her instincts as a Mistress and twisting them, tying her intestines into knots.

Bring him to his knees. Strip his mind, turn him inside out. The pulsing power in her mind told her she could unleash the power to do just that. The pulsing power in her mind told her she could unleash the power to do just that.

He'd gotten out of the car, was coming around toward her. She managed to shriek at him, although it was only in her mind.

Stay back, Gideon. Don't. I can't control it. I'll hurt you. Please . . . stay away. She didn't know exactly how; she just knew she would. Turning someone's mind inside out sounded high on the "not good" list. So focused on the physical danger she posed toward others, they really hadn't paid any attention to this one. But this was the first time Gideon had so decidedly defied her, shown he'd taken measures to wall her off from him, and every instinct as a predator wanted to take him down for it. She didn't know exactly how; she just knew she would. Turning someone's mind inside out sounded high on the "not good" list. So focused on the physical danger she posed toward others, they really hadn't paid any attention to this one. But this was the first time Gideon had so decidedly defied her, shown he'd taken measures to wall her off from him, and every instinct as a predator wanted to take him down for it.

She tried to turn her focus elsewhere. When she'd been human, during a stressful day she'd do meditation exercises. Relax her muscles, one group at a time. Her mind laughed with bitter incredulity, daisies thrown on a gas fire.

She was alone on this one. Gideon could help her manage her seizures, but he couldn't help her manage this, her vampire instincts rising against her, trying to turn her into a monster. Not when those shadow voices were controlling the trigger and aim.

But I can.

Anwyn, he's here. Gideon's voice was a quiet echo in her mind as she turned toward that long-awaited voice. She was aware of the tinge of regret and pain in her servant's thought. A brief overwhelming sadness, laced with that loneliness that tore at her heart. But she couldn't respond to it right now. That fomenting blood held her attention, making her stay locked where she was. Until a pair of familiar hands closed on her arms, drew her from her kneeling position to her feet, up against his tall, strong body. Gideon's voice was a quiet echo in her mind as she turned toward that long-awaited voice. She was aware of the tinge of regret and pain in her servant's thought. A brief overwhelming sadness, laced with that loneliness that tore at her heart. But she couldn't respond to it right now. That fomenting blood held her attention, making her stay locked where she was. Until a pair of familiar hands closed on her arms, drew her from her kneeling position to her feet, up against his tall, strong body.

She'd wanted this homecoming to be perfect, not flavored by this, but Daegan didn't soothe or treat her as if she were broken. His mouth came down on hers, hot, firm and demanding, and that lethal demand pivoted away from destructive instinct, leaped for what she'd missed so intensely for nearly a month.

His scent, his strength, the feel of him. He let her hands go so she could stretch up against him, slide them through his short hair, lean full into him, enveloped by that familiar duster. The soft stuff of his slacks and linen s.h.i.+rt teased her skin with the hard muscles beneath, the steel of the weapons he carried. She moaned in his mouth as he pressed his firm c.o.c.k against her abdomen, one hand lowering to cup her a.s.s and the other curved around her neck under her hair, holding her to him, chest to thighs. He delved even deeper into her mouth, his tongue teasing her to mindless l.u.s.t. His mind was in hers, giving her images of all the things he'd visualized doing with her, would do to her, driving everything else away.

Then, a gift like a bouquet of roses amid all the carnal images, she saw other things he'd been remembering about her, snapshots he'd pulled up to keep him company while in Europe. The tilt of her head, the way her mouth quirked when she was verbally sparring with him. How she brushed her hair at night, the way her nightgown lay against her breast and hip, the soft silk folding and straightening along those curves as her brush moved through the s.h.i.+ning waves. Handling club business at her computer, her legs tucked up underneath her, chin in hand, her mug of tea at her elbow, her hair falling over one shoulder.

I've missed you so much, cher cher.

The volatile energy she'd been holding back from Gideon had become something else entirely. She'd been right. She needed them both, to feel this balance, this sense of being . . . home. It was a dangerous feeling, with so many things uncertain and unresolved, for all of them, but she didn't care. She'd take it for now.

Recognizing a fragrant scent, she realized then why the image of roses had come into her mind. When Daegan lifted his head, she looked down and saw he'd laid a full two dozen lush red roses on the ground before bringing her to her feet for the welcoming kiss. He retrieved them now, still holding her close with one arm, and gave them to her, so they were cradled between them.

"They are perhaps old-fas.h.i.+oned or cliche, but you are red roses to me. Exotic, cla.s.sic, full of overwhelming pa.s.sionate color and beauty."

"Charmer," she managed, stroking the petals, then looked up into his face. Now that the voices in her head had gone silent, she could really see him. The dark eyes and sculpted jaw, never a five-o'clock shadow, since vampires didn't have facial hair. That overwhelming presence, completely in control and in command of his surroundings . . . and of her heart.

He was a vampire, just as she was. She had no apologies to make to him, because he understood who and what she was, what she was becoming. In his eyes there was acceptance, antic.i.p.ation. Pleasure.

She laid her head on his chest, hearing his heart beat. Then she closed her eyes to feel the strength of his arm, the brush of his coat against her side as Daegan s.h.i.+fted toward Gideon.

"Vampire hunter." The short greeting was warm, one man glad to see another, their typically minimalist-style communication.

Gideon grunted, noncommittal. "According to Brian, we should be calling you Lord Lord Daegan." Daegan."

"If you use that t.i.tle, I'll be forced to remove your internal organs."

"I wouldn't dream of contributing to your already overinflated mythology."

Anwyn looked up to see Daegan's lips curve, a show of fang. "I've missed you as well, vampire hunter." He glanced down at Anwyn. "Though I believe I interrupted a disagreement."

She gave a harsh half chuckle. Yeah, a disagreement. She'd about peeled his brain like a grape.

But you didn't. It's all right, Mistress.

She turned to look at Gideon then. His eyes no longer held that terrible cold distance, but there was a careful reserve, as if something fragile hung in the air between them. Too concerned that the rage might return and take her over, she decided not to press it. Right now, she wanted to focus on Daegan, even though she was sure all three of them were aware that a pall had been cast over the homecoming, a pall she hadn't wanted there. But with a transition like hers, she'd better start a.s.suming the best-laid plans might always have a wrench thrown in the works. It didn't make her feel any better about it, but it made her ready to move forward, leave it behind.

As if reading her mind-and she guessed he could-Gideon opened the driver's door. "I'll drive, so you two can talk in the back, if you'd like."

She took a step in that direction, then thought about the night she'd realized she couldn't allow Brian to use Debra to talk to her, relegate her to that level. She wasn't a coward. And she didn't let any man who served her, who submitted to her, get away with what Gideon had just done. She'd let it aggravate the vampire instincts, but Daegan had steadied and balanced her such that she could pull the Mistress to the forefront.

"Gideon, what were you hiding from me? I'm not going to look in your mind, not if I can help it." She had to focus hard to put that curtain down, keep his thoughts to just white noise, but she could do it, as long as she spoke in simple sentences and didn't try to walk and chew gum at the same time. "I want you to tell me."

His gaze went to Daegan behind her, and she was surprised to see a look of deep regret cross the vampire hunter's face. "She didn't know why I killed Trey," he said to Daegan. "You didn't tell her about annual kills."

Daegan's muttered oath was enough to alarm her, but it did more than that. It was something they both were keeping from her. She rounded on him, accusation in her gaze.

"I thought we were done with lies."

"I've never lied to you, cher cher."

She thought about screaming, but maybe men were incapable of considering premeditated omission lying. Sort of like the I would have told you I f.u.c.ked an entire cheerleading squad in your bed, but you never asked, did you? How did I know you'd want to know about that? I would have told you I f.u.c.ked an entire cheerleading squad in your bed, but you never asked, did you? How did I know you'd want to know about that?

Gideon made a short cough behind her, but she didn't turn, afraid of what she might do if it was a smothered laugh instead of a reaction to the cold air.

"What is an annual kill?"

Daegan hesitated. "Vampires must take a life once a year, Anwyn. The life of a decent human being, whose blood is not tainted by evil or a dissolute life. It's necessary, vital, to maintain our peak physical and mental stability. Without it, a vampire will start to lose that."

"You mean, I will . . ."

"It's not something you will need to deal with for many months. When you do, I'll help you, in whatever way is necessary." Daegan squeezed her hand. "Can we leave it as a subject for another time, cher cher? It will be there for us to discuss anytime."

Anwyn swallowed. Yeah, what the h.e.l.l. I guess we can put off the idea of me becoming a murderer for another day. Yeah, what the h.e.l.l. I guess we can put off the idea of me becoming a murderer for another day.

Now she understood why Gideon had blocked her, the alarm that had disrupted his anger about his income sources. In his irritation, he hadn't thought about the path he was taking the conversation, until it was too late to cover the trail.

She had understood that there were bad vampires, just like there were bad people. Until Daegan had told her otherwise, she'd hoped Gideon's targets had been those that were closer to the monsters of the movies, than vampires like Daegan. Even when Daegan told her about the vampire Gideon killed right before coming to her, she'd comforted herself with the idea that Gideon was with her now. For the time being, he wouldn't be doing that.

But this made things different, didn't it? There was no vampire who hadn't done murder. Daegan . . . Holy G.o.ddess, however many centuries old he was, that meant he'd taken . . . hundreds of innocent lives.

"It is necessary for our survival, Anwyn," Daegan said. "It's no different from what a wolf or lion must do to nourish itself. Only instead of making kills every several days, we only need to do it once a year."

She looked toward Gideon, understood a little better why that fortress existed inside him, a fortress that obviously rolled up its draw-bridge against her when she hit the right b.u.t.ton. If she could possibly come to grips with taking an innocent life, how on earth could Gideon reconcile himself to being a part of that, if he'd spent so much of his life trying to save the future annual kills of every vampire life he took?

"Take me home," she said to him. "You and Daegan can ride in the front."

5.

WHEN they arrived at the apartment, Anwyn went to her bedroom, closed the door without a word to either one of them. Daegan shouldered his bag, took it down the hallway to his room. Looking between them, Gideon decided he'd take the opportunity while he was fairly certain Anwyn's mind would be shut to both of them, and followed Daegan.

The vampire had unzipped his garment bag. He hung a handful of clothes back up in his closet, expensive clothes that looked dry-cleaned and pressed, reminding Gideon of how they'd gotten to this uncomfortable moment. Jesus, he wished he hadn't let temper take him over. Of all the things for her to have to deal with. And tonight, of all nights.

Daegan pulled a pair of loaded nine-millimeters out of the bag, placed them in the top drawer of his dresser. "They won't delay her validation as a vampire to the next Gathering," he said without preamble. "They expect me to bring her back in two weeks. The time I spent on a.s.signments in Europe for them was the only extension they would provide, and I drew those out as long as possible, to give Brian the maximum amount of time to help stabilize her."

Daegan hadn't turned on the light in the bedroom. The light was on in the bath, and the shadow thrown across his face made Gideon realize the vamp was a little paler than usual, such that he could see some stress lines around his mouth. It told him the past month had been no picnic for Daegan, either. "So there is is something going on. Somebody on the Council is gunning for you, and they're using what should have been a straightforward kill to stick it to you." something going on. Somebody on the Council is gunning for you, and they're using what should have been a straightforward kill to stick it to you."

"It's likely. They want to address that at the same time they do the validation. But she appears to be doing well. It's better to go ahead and get it done. The sooner she is validated, the safer she'll be within this world." Daegan sat down on the bed, began to remove his shoes.

"If someone wants to bring you on the carpet for Barnabus's kill, she could be in danger there."

"No. It won't be entirely easy for her there, but she is strong enough to handle herself, and I will be treated separately from her situation. Newly made vampires are viewed much as children, not yet culpable for the sins of their sires or a.s.sociates. I'll be able to watch over her."

"We both will."

Daegan's head lifted, his dark eyes fastening on Gideon's. "You can't be serious. You do remember what happened the last time you attended a Council Gathering?"

"Well, I didn't have an official invitation then. I'll be better behaved. I won't bring explosives."

"Gideon-"