Foregoing the more brutal Inscrolling spells that would make humans faithful, but mindless, slaves to a vampire and even the lesser Compulsion spells, Gideon had chosen the simplest means of assuring their loyalty.
Bribery.
Now he silently slid behind the ragged youth that was crouched behind a rosebush. With uncanny swiftness the villain turned to confront him with a knife in his hand. Gideon was suitably impressed by the boy’s ability to sense his presence. Such skill would serve him well.
“Hold, it is I,” he said in low tones.
With a saucy grin the youth gave the knife a twirl before it disappeared into the grimy sleeve of his jacket.
“Guv.”
“Have you noted anything unusual?”
The grin spread across the bony face. “A right fair number of those fancy guests have a queer interest in that tiny building.” He jerked his head toward the shadowed gazebo that was obviously a perfect spot for seduction. “Been tramping in and out all evening.”
A brief image of Simone floating down the path toward the gazebo where he would readily join her in rose-scented passion was fiercely thrust away. Sweet Nefri, did the woman have magic of her own? Had she managed to bewitch him?
Cloaking himself in icy control, Gideon regarded his young servant with a glittering gaze.
“A straight answer if you please.”
The lad dropped his false air of bravado and gave a somber nod. “Yes, sir. Seen a bloke slip through the garden and onto the terrace near an hour ago.”
Gideon was on instant alert. “What did he look like?”
A shudder abruptly raced through the boy. “Difficult to say in the dark, but I do know he was tall and thin with a cape like yer own. Hair seemed a funny silver like, but it could be the moonlight.”
“Tristan,” he muttered, easily able to identify one of the renegades. A vampire with considerable power, he was more crafty than intelligent, and always brutal. He was also notoriously impatient. Gideon would have to consider how best to use that weakness to his own advantage. “He now knows that I am here.”
“Beg pardon, sir, but he gave me a right queer feeling.”
Gideon snapped his attention back to the youth standing before him. “You did not approach him, did you?”
“No.” He gave a violent shake of his head. “I stayed right in the bushes as you said. Still ... I shouldn’t like to come up against him in a dark alley.”
“It would be even worse than you could ever imagine,” Gideon assured him in bleak tones. Were Tristan to discover that this boy was in his employ the vampire would take great delight in torturing him beyond all bearing. “You are to have nothing to do with him. Is that understood?”
The boy turned to spit upon the ground. “Couldn’t pay me enough to tangle with that bugger. Makes me feel like the night me da locked me in a crypt for spilling his gin. Nasty business.”
Gideon arched a brow at the youth’s perception. “You possess a rare insight for a mere mort ... boy,” he smoothly corrected.
That crooked grin returned. “I live on the streets, guv. I would have been dead long ago if I couldn’t smell trouble.”
“I suppose so.” Gideon straightened, knowing he still had a long night ahead of him searching for Tristan’s lair. “You know what is to be done?”
The boy heaved a breath at his question. He had been forced to repeat the command over and over until Gideon was certain that he had it memorized.
“Two of us on duty at all times. If the lady leaves we are to follow at a safe distance. If we notice anything a bit off we are to fetch you at yer home.”
“Anything,” Gideon stressed in tones that rippled through the air. “Even if it appears harmless.”
The lad gave a mocking salute. “Righto, guv.”
Gideon briefly considered the boy then; realizing he had done all that was possible to keep Simone safe, he gave a smooth nod of his head.
“I shall meet with you again tomorrow.”
Turning on his heel Gideon faded into the shadows. No one could see him halt one more time to glance toward the figure still outlined in front of the window before he was slipping through the mews and on the hunt for a silver-haired vampire.
Chapter 2
It had been a long, frustrating night for Gideon.
Upon more than one level, he reluctantly conceded as he moved up the steps to Simone��s town house.
Not only had he failed to find any trace of Tristan as he had searched through the streets of London, he had been unable to banish the thought of a golden-haired beauty with eyes of emeralds.
Even when he had at last accepted the limitations of his physical form and briefly lay upon his bed, he had been haunted by the vision of her graceful features and enticing curves. Curves that he did not doubt would fit perfectly beneath him.
The very fact he could not dismiss her from his thoughts had Gideon leaving his bed and attiring himself in black coat and breeches.
He disliked the sense of being controlled by the sudden passions that plagued him, he acknowledged sourly. The sooner he could track down Tristan and convince him of the futility of his cause, the sooner he could return behind the Veil.
But first he had to call upon Simone and somehow establish a means of forcing her to obey him.
His lips thinned. He would rather face the bloodthirsty Tristan.
Reaching the top step, Gideon patiently waited as the door was pulled open by the pug-faced butler who regarded him with a challenging stare. There was little doubt that the poor servant had been severely chastised for allowing him to pass last night, and that he fully intended to halt him today.
He was visibly bristling with aggression.
Stepping past the servant into the foyer, Gideon handed the man his hat and gloves.
“Mr. Ravel to see Lady Gilbert,” he stated smoothly.
The servant jutted out his chin. “Her ladyship is not at home.”
Gideon waved a slender hand, silently speaking the powerful words that would ensure he was allowed to see the stubborn minx. He did not possess the time for such nonsense.
“I fear you must be mistaken,” he said softly.
“No, I ...” The servant faltered as his thoughts became tangled. “I mean, she does not wish to see you.”
“She will see me.”
There was a strained silence. “I was commanded not to let you in.”
“Now I am commanding you to allow me to pass.”
“I ...”
“Move aside.”
There was a brief struggle before the butler was giving an obedient nod of his head.
“Yes, of course.”
Gideon smiled with cold satisfaction. “I will show myself in.”
“Very well.”
Knowing that it would be some time before the butler realized that he had once again failed his mistress, Gideon moved toward the steps and fluidly swept upward. He paused briefly upon the landing, using his senses to draw him toward a room at the end of the gallery. Even before opening the door he could feel the maiden’s tension as it hummed through the air. Somehow the thought that she was as unnerved as he brought a sense of satisfaction.
Moving with unearthly silence Gideon opened the door and slid into the ivory and gilded room. For a moment he merely watched the woman as she paced across the carpet, appreciating the manner the brilliant sapphire gown drifted about her slender curves, and the play of the afternoon sunlight in the flowing golden curls. There was a vibrant spirit about her that called to the stirring passions deep within him.
With a stern warning at his tenuous restraint he cloaked himself in the cool arrogance that had once seemed so effortless.
He was a superior being with powers beyond the comprehensions of a mere mortal.
No mere maiden was going to disrupt his equanimity. Or at least he would never reveal such weakness.
“Good day, Lady Gilbert,” he greeted in tones as smooth as black velvet.
He watched the slender body stiffen and her hands clench at her side before Simone slowly turned to regard him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
“You. How ... ?” She bit off her words as she noted the expectant glint in his dark eyes. With an obvious effort she attempted to appear unconcerned by his sudden arrival. “What are you doing here?”
He waved a negligent hand, refusing to allow his gaze to linger on the translucent perfection of the satin skin revealed by the low bodice. Or to notice the musky scent of rosewater that filled the air.
“What any gentleman would be doing when he has been captivated by a beautiful woman,” he retorted as he strolled toward the center of the room. “I have come to pay homage.”
The emerald eyes flared but surprisingly she did not accept his calculated words with the ease he had hoped.
“Fah.”
“Fah?”
“You are not captivated.” Her expression was one of stubborn suspicion. “And you are not here to pay homage. I have had enough time to consider your odd arrival at my home last evening.”
A ripple of impatience threatened his calm demeanor. There was an unmistakable air of challenge about her that threatened to touch his more primitive nature.
“Indeed?” He stepped closer, hoping to intimidate her by his mere presence. “And what have you concluded ?”