Vampire Mistress

And Daegan trusted him not to abuse the privilege. It was a curious revelation. Gideon's brow creased.

“You knew it would be this way.”

“I didn't know she'd have a seizure during your marking, but yes, I knew that your minds would be open to one another, far more than most vampires and their servants. That's key to what will help her.

Are you regretting your decision already?”

No, he was wondering how the hell he'd made this kind of impression on Daegan Rei. And why it felt oddly gratifying to have his vote of confidence, conditional though it was.

Gideon made another attempt, shrugged off Daegan's hand as he straightened. “Piss off. I'm fine. I want to be with her.”

Why would you want that?

Those words in his mind brought him up short. While she sounded tired, her words were as welcome as the stroke of her hand. Daegan, watching his face, nodded. “She's speaking to you now?”

“Yeah. She wants me to go to her.”

Liar.

Not a lie, Gideon responded.You do want me to come to you. I can feel it. If you're looking into my head, you know I want to be with you.

“Of course she does.” Daegan gestured toward the hallway. “I left the cell door open for her. I'd recommend you help her clean up, if she'd like that, and then you both get some much-needed rest.”

“You're leaving the two of us alone?” Gideon's brow creased.

Daegan quirked a brow. “Yes. That was one of the points of doing this, wasn't it? You'll find you are somewhat faster and stronger, though not as much as you'd be with a third mark. Being in her mind, you will be able to anticipate her seizures all the better. That, and your considerable defensive skills, should help buy you time if a seizure happens unexpectedly.”

“Was that a compliment?”

“Unless I've experienced a head injury I don't know about, no. If she has a seizure, call out to me for help, and I'll hear you.” He gave Gideon a hard look. “Don't hesitate to do so. I'll be in my rooms. I don't require as much daylight sleep as most vampires, so I should be back up soon.” Turning on his heel, he left Gideon standing there, wondering what he'd just missed. The vampire was distancing himself. It made Gideon feel twitchy and out of sorts, because there was a dangerous predictability to vampires. While the shit could always hit the fan when they were around, if they were acting unpredictable, it was far more difficult to see from which direction the shit would fly, or when to duck. Daegan was already more unpredictable than most.

Maybe he'd just decided to give them space to deal with this new second-mark thing. Maybe he was tired as hell and wanted to go to bed. Maybe he was grumpy because he hadn't had any fresh blood.

Gideon was swamped by a swirl of thoughts and images from the woman two rooms away. Part confusion, part worry. Part marveling, as he was, at their new connection and the need to sort through whose thoughts were whose. With all that in his head, he set his concerns about Daegan's attitude aside.

He had to figure this out first. Daegan had made the most important thing clear enough. He was as accessible as ever to come to Anwyn's aid. Hell, not that Gideon cared, but the vamp might even deign to cover his back.

If it involved Anwyn, of course.

18

SHE was on the floor of the cell, her knees drawn up to her chest as she rocked. Daegan had given her another shirt. She was sitting on a pillow, the chains back on her arms and legs. With them, she looked like a prisoner awaiting beheading. That faint hint of whispering, coming from her mind on top of a jumble of mismatched thoughts, increased to a sibilant growling at his appearance, but he realized that it was a constant cacophony, not an indication that she was still in seizure mode. Christ, had this been in her head all along? He wondered she hadn't succumbed to more seizures than she had.

God, he hated those chains. He ignored the clutch in his gut that asked,What if we can never completely put them away? What if she has to go back to them forever or hurt someone? Had Daegan asked himself the same question?

When she lifted her gaze, he realized he was an idiot. Servants' minds were open to their vampires. But how the hell could he stop thinking?

“If you figure it out, let me know,” Anwyn said, her voice muffled in her knees.

He realized he still had the manual key to her restraints in his jeans pocket. Kneeling, he unlocked the ones on her legs, then on her wrists. She started to pull back when she realized what he was doing, but he reached up, pushed back her hair so he could see her face.

“That was just while I was unconscious,” he said quietly, holding her gaze. “You're a Mistress, and now you have a servant. If you can hold a man on his knees with just a look, you aren't going to let this son of a bitch's blood control you. You're going to use me to help steady yourself. Granted, my head's not the best one you could get, but it's what you got. One thing I do know is how to keep my shit together in a crisis. You use my mind, my blood, whatever it is your instincts tell you that you need to get a grip on this. You're going to be okay, because Daegan, you and me aren't accepting anything else. Right?” She stared at him, and swallowed. “I don't want to be around him right now.” So that was it. He should have known. Daegan's involvement in making sure his second mark happened would have tripped her off again, her not entirely unjustified anger at him handling her for her own good.

The bitch of it was, he wasn't sure he wouldn't have done the same thing, if he'd been in Daegan's shoes.

She gave him a vaguely hostile look, and he lifted his hands, a truce. “While I did kind of get a thrill hearing you don't want him around, you know you're going to have to work this shit out eventually. He's just a convenient target. You need somebody to be pissed off at that you know won't give up on you.”

“How do you know that?” She wiped at her nose with the back of her arm, an indication of just how crappy she felt. The woman he'd seen walk into the Queen's Chamber would never be that graceless.

“Because I'm more vicious to my brother than to anyone else. How about another shower? We'll get you into some nice clothes.”

“I'll just ruin them again.”

“You may throw up on them a few times, or tear them up, but they're just clothes. They can be washed.

Don't know about you, but I'm also done with treating you like a rabid dog.” He kicked at the chains, sending them rolling another foot away with a harsh clanking.

“What if I try to hurt someone?” He could hear her mind wondering about Daegan's absence as well, despite her claim to not want him around.

“He's close enough to come help us. We're underground, and you can't enter the security code to get out if you're in bloodlust or seizure mode. Daegan may have a key to override it, but he's probably put that up his ass. I know it's safe from me up there, and I don't think he'll let you get to it.” Her lips curved, just a tiny bit, but it was enough. When she reached out, he leaned into her touch, let her stroke his brow. He'd liked her touch before, but now, with her so closely connected, it felt like contact between a hand and a musical instrument, a resulting vibration resonating between them.

“I can hear your mind, Gideon. All the thoughts going through it. You can probably hear a lot of mine.”

“Yeah.” Right now, it was like listening to static on a radio station with occasional voices coming through, the channel not yet fully tuned in. It was amazing and disorienting at once. And painful, because there were flashes of terrible things, pictures that made him want to smash faces and cause great pain to those who'd made her suffer. Then there were those shadows.

“They don't belong to me,” she said. “I don't know . . . Maybe they were his? Part of his schizophrenia?

They seem to have picked up on my fears quickly enough. Demonic possession has a whole new meaning to me.”

He gripped her hand, hard, and she returned it, the two of them bound in a moment of silence, though the things going between their heads would have made the New York Stock Exchange sound like a temple of monastic silence. She gave a half chuckle, half sob. “My God, Gideon, I can't believe this is happening. It's just too much to think about.”

“Yet you're handling it. If it was me, I'd be alternating between crying like a little girl and trying to smash my head into a wall to make it shut up.”

“I believe the smashing. The little-girl thing is just to make me feel better.” She ran her thumb over his lips, down to his throat and settled there, her fingers stroking those two marks. Gideon tilted his head, giving her access, holding her gaze.

“It's crazy, but that feels good.”

“I know. Your body got all still and focused, your mind, zeroing in on my touch . . .” She moistened her lips, drew her hand away. “This isn't the most horrible thing that's ever happened to me, Gideon. If I'm handling this better than you expected, it's because I realized a long time ago the world doesn't stop, no matter what terrible thing happens. At first that horrifies you; then you realize it's a relief. You can step back into the stream and let the current pull you back in. It will help you pretend that things are okay again. You can watch TV and eat at Mc-Donald's with everyone else. Until one day you're not pretending anymore, and it's really okay again.”

But he saw deep clouds around those terrible things, things more recent and things past. It would take her a great deal more effort to step into that current. This room, surrounded by all the things she knew, he and Daegan, they were her insulation, but she actually wasn't sure if she could leave this room again.

Wasn't sure how she'd handle that.

When she lifted her blue-green eyes to him, he gave her the answer, though he realized she could read it from his mind. “Because we'll step out that door together. I'll be at your back. I swear I won't let anything else happen to you.”

They both knew that he couldn't make such a promise, but Gideon knew that wasn't why he said it, or why she'd needed to hear it out loud. She turned her hand beneath his, entangling their fingers, stroking his knuckles. “As far as the crying-like-a-girl thing, you've been out for a little bit. So I've pretty much handled my hysteria.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">