Authors: Jacquelyn Frank
Tags: #Spirits, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #General, #Romance, #werewolves, #Supernatural, #Fiction, #Love Stories
No.
Dying was far less painful than a hurting heart.
Gideon opened his eyes barely twenty minutes after he had drifted to sleep. The stained glass
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windows of the bedroom blocked a great deal of the dawn light, making it a shower of warm colors rather than intrusive white, and he adjusted to it in seconds.
He and Legna had decided to spend the day in his former residence. As opposed to their dwelling at Siena’s court where people came and went constantly during times of holiday, here they were assured absolutely uninterrupted privacy during their Samhain night. They had not stayed long at the usual castle festivities with Noah and their other friends, the urgency of the night chasing them quickly to bed just as it had Jacob, Bella, and the others who were Imprinted and even those who were not.
Gideon had planned on sleeping as lengthily and as thoroughly as he had just made love to his wife, who lay in a deep sleep herself. Legna was sprawled over him, exactly as she always was, exactly in the way that made his heart pound with his deep-seated emotions for her.
But something had stirred him awake, and as he absently stroked her soft hair, he searched for some clarity about the disturbance that had done so.
The moment he realized who it was that approached his house, Gideon rolled Legna off his body quickly and un-gently. He ignored her sleepy protest, jerking the coverlet up over her as he grabbed for his robe.
The Ancient medic paused for a moment of uncharacteristic indecision. Then he reached down to Legna and closed his hand over her forehead. He sank into her body mentally, expending quick energy into her as he manipulated her in a way that no other could match. Once she was completely submerged from the world, her spirit, thoughts, and bio-signs repressed into nonexistence perceptually, he scooped her up into his arms and hauled her over to a swing-away bookshelf that concealed the room that had served as his meditation place for centuries. Placing her gently on the floor within the secret room, he didn’t even spend time kissing her before parting from her, although he wanted to more than anything in that moment.
He exited the room and hurried out of the bedroom. He grabbed the banister, vaulting over it and dropping all three floors down the center of the spiral stairwell.
Gideon landed on his feet, remaining in a crouch as he tilted his head and altered his senses until they were at his most acute. He was out of time and he had not even had the chance to astral project to Noah and tell him where Legna was in case…
…just in case.
“I feel you waiting for me, medic.”
The voice was artificially enhanced in volume within his thoughts, causing him remarkable pain.
He realized then exactly how powerful his enemy had grown. A Demon had never dabbled in black arts outside of a pentagram before. Gideon would never have expected it to have this kind of effect, this extraordinary enhancement of power. But it was corruptive all the same, he could feel it, smell it, the dark stain of it spread deeply over Ruth’s soul as she winked into existence with a flash of strange, dark light.
Gideon gained his full height, narrowing his eyes on the bold bitch who dared to threaten his home and his family. But he kept his temper, as always. He had not lived over a millennium without learning that losing your head in your emotions when confronted with a battle was a sure way of signing your own death certificate.
“Ruth,” he greeted coldly. “Even you cannot be this mad.”
Ruth did not seem to pay attention to him. She was tilting her head, looking up toward the ceiling with curiosity.
“Sleeping without your wife on Samhain?” She made a tsking sound. “Am I supposed to believe she is not here? You are right, I am not that mad.”
The cool blond’s eyes roamed thoughtfully over the Ancient, her gaze clearly avaricious. Her lush body curved, beckoning in a way that had once been quite alluring, and still might be had she not chosen the path she was now clinging to so greedily. But now she was as sinuous as a poisonous reptile, and clearly just as deadly as she was beautiful.
“I once had the most terrible crush on you,” she confessed, her countenance amused. “You were
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so powerful. And handsome. Quite handsome.” Ruth slid a hand over one smooth hip, her movement obvious and practiced. “Does your hidden wife know we were once together on Beltane?”
“That was three hundred years ago,” Gideon said, his tone as neutral as ever. “And if I recall, women were somewhat scarce in our population at the time.”
Ruth looked as if she had been slapped, and in effect she had been. But a second later her face flared with outraged color.
“How dare you!” she hissed. “You enjoyed it well enough at the time! Even you cannot deny that!”
Gideon let her indulge in her rage. He was intent on remaining focused on the power that was outside the walls of his home, gathering far too quickly even for his comfort and abilities. He had been right to conceal Legna from them. Ruth would never be able to figure out what he had done with his wife; she was not quite that powerful. But his mate was vulnerable, left upstairs in a state that simulated death in order to mask her presence. If the condition was not reversed within an hour, she and the baby would be in terrible danger. But in order to revive her from the stasis, he had to remain alive and must protect her by being victorious in this encounter.
The odds of this diminished with each new presence that he sensed. Gideon was strong, but not against the odds that were becoming all too probable with every passing minute. He should have known better. He should have never brought Legna into territory Ruth could discover with a little creative ease. But there would be time for self-recrimination later.
“Ruth, is there a purpose behind your visit besides a walk down memory lane over a quick tumble behind a random bush most of your lifetime ago?” He narrowed frigid silver eyes on her. “It must be, because you could not possibly be so stupid as to try and take on me.”
“It is exactly what I intend to do. I am more powerful than even you can imagine, Gideon. And I am not alone.”
“Forgive me for saying so, but it is not as if I could not smell your stench from a mile away. You are corrupted, Ruth. You must be aware that the stench of the others no longer affects you because of that.”
Gideon was already mentally reaching toward the female Demon’s body, her physiology, preparing to manipulate her into death the moment he could. But her chemistry was troubling, confusing. She was transforming on levels even she was unaware of. It made her unreadable, a puzzle that would take too much time for him to sort through.
Ruth gave him that faint smile again, the one that reached too far into her mad eyes. She was a powerful Mind Demon and no doubt was aware of his attempt, and his stalling out.
“You know, Gideon,” she said softly, stepping so close to him he had to fight off the urge to back up from the corrupt smell of her. “I may have been a quick encounter for you, but I know she is not. She and your unborn baby. And I will find her, even if we have to burn the house to the ground to do it.”
“You will have to go through me first, traitor.”
“Exactly my plan,” she mused.
“Then you better call in your little minions.”
Gideon moved so quickly, he had his hand around her throat before she could even anticipate it in his thoughts. She was slammed back into the nearest wall a second later, Gideon using the pain and the surprise to keep her from concentrating on her abilities. But she was an Elder and far too empowered to be held at bay with disruptive tricks for long. So the medic did not waste time; he immediately cut off her air and the blood supply to her brain. She gagged, her eyes wide as she looked into the deadly threat in his eyes.
“Your problem,” he murmured to her, almost in a lover’s voice, “is that you waste time boasting and building yourself up with empty talk. You should have struck while you could.”
While he throttled the Demon defector, he reached out to the perimeter of his home, grabbing unsuspecting necromancers one by one with sheer force of power and will, stopping their black
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hearts dead in their chests. For all their power of magic, the necromancers were still as fragile as any human, making it a ridiculously simple task in many respects.
The others, watching their comrades fall inexplicably, began to panic and rushed toward the house to find the source of the damage to their ranks before he could cause any further harm.
They were clearly shocked at how easily he had done this attack. Once again, Ruth had not prepared them for what she was leading them into. It would perhaps be his one true advantage.
Ruth regrouped even as he throttled her consciousness out of her. Her eyes rolled back as she accessed her power, and he felt her pushing into his mind. The force was stunning and impressive. Gideon was blinded by pain, his free hand reflexively going to his head as she sought to turn his brain to a pulp with her telekinetic power. He had never met a female telekinetic before, but Mind Demons were relatively new to their species and, poisoned as she was, it could be an unnatural mutation. It took all of his mental fortitude to fight her off, and even so he felt blood drip from his nose as it filled his pressured sinuses.
When he was forced to take his attention from the others, they invaded the house within minutes.
The evil flock of women hovered like wingless harpies over the floor, speaking the tainted words that would bring forth the electrical bolts of power they wielded during attack.
Gideon spilt his attention. He struck Ruth in the face, dazing her with the sharp thrust of his palm to her delicate nose. He could have killed her with the blow had he been more focused, but he was also reaching for magic-users, muting several of them in a sweep of thought, cutting them off from the verbal means necessary for access to their power, sending them crashing to the floor.
Others he panicked with blindness, others still with deafness.
It bought him time only.
Gideon felt something strike him, the unmistakable puncture of teeth sinking into his calf. That was when he dropped a barely conscious Ruth to the floor and spun around to face her daughter. The spoiled automaton that was Ruth’s offspring, Mary, was more powerful as well.
Gideon felt it. He breathed it in as the wicked stench eddied toward him. She was drawing swarms of wild dogs, wolves, and even poisonous snakes in through every smashed window and doorway she could, coiled serpents even dropping down the chimney and into the cold ashes of the fireplace.
The animals were not responsible for the compulsion Mary had them under, so Gideon was pained when he had to reach to break the neck of the wolf that had buried its canines deeply into his flesh. By the time he turned, there were a dozen others on him.
Razorlike teeth sliced into his flesh from every direction. All he could do was cut off the pain and the blood as they tried to drag him down, seeking access to his throat.
Gideon considered that he might have made a mistake by not waking Legna and allowing her the freedom of thought to escape. But then again, he knew his beloved wife all too well. She would have insisted on being at his back, fighting where she had been born to fight. And that was exactly why he had done what he had done. He would rather die than see her hurt or worse.
But by leaving her helpless, that might be just what he had sentenced her to.
Gideon could only do one thing to possibly save her.
Though it would take several highly talented medics to reverse the stasis he had put her in, and even though they might not succeed, he had to try.
Gideon gave up his fight and projected his astral self into the dawn, reaching for Noah as the attacking forces began to drag him down.
He was not even aware of the sudden, violent wind that made the house shudder from foundation to rafters.
Siena woke with a start, her heart racing as her head rang with warnings and filled with bloodred rage.
She turned over swiftly, reaching for Elijah in panic and feeling an awful, clawing sensation of
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dread and despair as her hand came up with empty sheets and blankets.
He had left her, and as sure as she knew that, she knew he was in trouble. Oh, he was trying to keep it from her on some sort of automatic, protective level, but he could not hide the rage and horror flooding through him because of whatever it was he was seeing.
She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate, wishing suddenly she had never let him out of her sight in the first place. From what Gideon had told her, if they had spent the days since Jinaeri’s cavern together, they would have had a stronger bond mentally, to the point where she would have seen through his eyes perfectly.
The minute she thought of Gideon, his image flashed into her mind, but it was washed away by silver and red.
Blood red.
Siena flew from her bed, transforming into the Werecat on the run as she flew out of her quarters. The guards were startled to see her exit in such a wild manner, and in her Wereform to boot.
“I want Anya this moment! Tell her to meet me at the Demon ambassador’s home with troops immediately!”
“But Majesty—”
“Do not question me! Do as I say this instant!”
“Majesty, it is daylight,” the guard pressed on, though clearly loath to countermand her again.
She did not blame him. She hadn’t appeared to make a rational movement or decision in over a week. But this…this was something even she could not fight.
She had a sudden wash of terror, and tears of frustration, burning behind her eyes. Her hand went to her heart as it threatened to beat right out of her chest. Elijah needed her. Needed her help. Gideon as well. She was sure of it. They both were closer to her heart than she had been willing to admit, and now when they needed her, she was utterly helpless to aid them.
The sun.
A thrice-damned star hundreds of thousands of miles away, and yet it prevented her from going to Elijah’s side.