Vampire Mistress (16 page)

This was madness. She was going to rip into him like a wolf devouring a sheep’s stomach. Daegan had said it was chemical, that there was no way she could control herself. But he’d never been as smart as he should be. He just followed his gut most days, and dumb luck so far had helped him survive his missteps.

Today, he had help from more than luck. Without invitation, Daegan had stepped close, his hands sliding under Gideon’s arms to rest on his rib cage. Though he thought about telling him to back off, it was logical. Daegan was ready to pull Gideon away if needed. Functional, but also a strange reassurance to it, a steadying force behind the touch.

His gut aside, he’d been pissed by Daegan’s comment that he would refuse to be a donor. He’d donated blood for his brother when it was needed, albeit not straight from the vein. But he wasn’t so much of a bastard that he couldn’t look past his own squeamishness. With this sensual gesture of trust, he could tell her that he believed things were going to work out for her. God knew, he’d been in situations where everything had gone to hell in a handbasket. The right word at the right time was the only thing that told him the world wasn’t ending, even if it had come close to being the end of
his
world.

Tightening his grip on her hand, he encouraged her to get started before he changed his mind. Anwyn’s head dipped, her hair brushing Gideon’s cheek, her mouth touching his neck where it met his shoulder. His shirt was in the way, even though she’d ripped it in the back when she bit him there. Daegan slid the fabric to the right to expose the bite area, his fingers grazing bare skin. The brief, startling brush of the man’s mouth flashed through Gideon’s mind, discomfiting him. Hell, he’d never let a vamp touch him this much, but it was necessary. Whatever else the creature was, Gideon didn’t doubt his devotion to Anwyn.

He couldn’t help tensing a little, though, when Anwyn fastened her mouth over the bite, but she didn’t use her fangs. Just her tongue, licking at the wound, tasting him and stimulating new blood flow. His mind had been focusing only on a way to soothe her, but now he was reminded of other side effects that came from a woman, particularly this one, putting her mouth on his flesh. The thin T-shirt didn’t disguise the pressure of breasts against his chest, the nipples a noticeable difference in the soft give of her flesh. Her bare thigh brushed the inside of his. Glancing down to distract himself, he saw she even had pretty knees, smooth oblong curves of bone beneath her pale skin.

Her motion brought him the scent of Daegan’s shirt. Daegan had known, like many women, she could draw reassurance and comfort from her lover’s smell. Gideon used all his senses to the nth degree in his line of work, and knew he practically had a German shepherd’s olfactory skills. Right now, it wasn’t an advantage, because the unique male smell, mixed with the scent of Anwyn’s skin, wasn’t as unaffecting as it should have been.

Daegan had registered the spike in his tension when she’d put her mouth over the wound. His thumb began to rub Gideon’s hard shoulder muscle. While he used enough pressure to ease the knot growing there, and maybe he was doing it to keep Gideon calm for Anwyn’s benefit, Gideon didn’t like it. He twitched, an unspoken message to the vampire to cut it out. The erotic heat of Anwyn’s mouth so close to that massaging touch gave both of them more of a sensual flavor, and he was not going to let his cock get hard over Daegan Rei’s touch, even if it was just incidental to hers.

Anwyn made a sound in her throat. Her mouth was cruising up the side of his neck, where the artery pulsed even harder. Daegan paused. Gideon wondered if he should pull back, but from the heat coming off Anwyn’s body, he thought that might be interpreted by her newly minted vampire senses as prey trying to run. So he stayed where he was as her breath teased the flesh directly beneath his ear. Then she was moving along his jaw, the tip of her tongue tracing that bone, her lips dragging along his skin.

Damn it, his cock
was
getting hard, and the fact her nipples were tightening even further wasn’t helping. Yeah, she was getting aroused. No surprise there, because vamps stayed horny about 120 percent of the time with that never-ending fountain of pheromones.

He didn’t like the sound of that crude word in his head, though, not applied to Anwyn. Maybe he’d done it to distance himself.
Too late for that
, he observed ruefully, considering he was positioned between a fledgling vampire who could tear out his throat and a vampire who could dice him with his own switchblade and be sitting on the couch, paring his nails with the blade, before the last piece hit the floor.

When she found his mouth, he turned into the kiss, letting himself go with it. She had his blood on her tongue, but she opened wide, encouraged him to plunge deep, another sexy sound coming from the back of her throat. Pressing into her, he let her feel his arousal against her thigh. He moved his hand around her back, cinched her tighter to him, and she moaned full-out into his mouth, the need vibrating through his own vocal cords.

Daegan’s hand tightened on his shoulder. The vampire drew him away, slow and easy, as if he didn’t want to antagonize the beast, but Gideon wasn’t sure which beast was being soothed. He resented being pulled back from the heat of that kiss, but before he could accuse the vampire of jealousy, he saw what Daegan had. Her head fell back against the stone, her red eyes fixated on him, fangs long enough to slide over her bottom lip.

“Hungry,” she rasped. “More.”

“Soon,” Daegan said. “Just a mouthful is enough for now. I need to go,
cher
. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Her attention went to him then, and some of the red receded, Anwyn struggling to the forefront. “Daegan . . .”

“I know.” When he moved in closer, Gideon stepped back, but not far enough to miss the softening of Daegan’s austere features, the look in his eyes as he cupped her face and brushed his lips gently over hers. Her body quivered, a revulsion toward her restraints, even though it was obvious she was making a concerted effort to focus on him, not them. “I would give anything not to leave you right now,” he added, sliding his hands down to her tense shoulders, his thumbs teasing her collarbone. “But you will need the sire’s blood.”

She shook her head. “I won’t take it, Daegan. You might as well not bother.”

“You will take it, because it will keep you alive. I won’t let you die. Even though”—a slight smile touched his lips, but not his eyes, which were fixed on her face—“you have been insufferably strong-minded as a human. I expect you’ll be even worse as a vampire female.”

She swallowed. “Perhaps I’ll finally have the strength and speed to punch you in your arrogant face when you need it . . . and run fast enough to get away with it.”

Instead of humor, he responded by pressing his forehead to hers, cradling the sides of her face as she closed her eyes. “I’m so afraid,” she whispered. “Daegan, I’ve never been so afraid.”

Gideon was leaning against the wall, and he put his hand over hers. Daegan registered the gesture, and Gideon didn’t sense disapproval.

“I know. Which is why it tears me apart to go. But I’m not leaving you alone. You trust Gideon, don’t you?”

Her lashes fluttered up. “Yes,” she said, surprising Gideon with the simple sincerity of her answer. “But how do you . . .”

“I know everything. I’ve told you that before.” Daegan pressed a kiss to her forehead and then backed off, even as she summoned a half-serious look of irritation.

“There’s that arrogance.”

“I’ll look forward to discussing it more when I return.” He glanced at Gideon. “I’d like a word.”

As they moved out of the cell, Daegan pressed the control, giving Anwyn slack on the manacles again as he closed the iron door. She took several unsteady steps under the men’s watchful eyes, then sank down on the sofa, the chains at ankles and wrists clanking. As her head went to the pillow, her eyes closed.

“Good. A period of lethargy. Let’s hope she can get some rest before the next episode.”

Gideon noted that the chains did not give her enough slack to reach the door, but Daegan took no chances, locking it. He extended the key. “It’s already past dawn, but I can use the alleyways and sewers to track them,” he said, low. “He came asking for me, so he and the others should still be in the area. In the interim, human blood can help slow the madness. Give her a quarter cup every two hours. There are several bags in the refrigerator.” At Gideon’s questioning look, the vampire lifted a shoulder. “I have been injured, once or twice. Anwyn suggested I keep some here, ready, in case she could not fully supply my needs fresh. Her own human blood can feed her. Follow me.”

Daegan moved past him then and back into the sitting room. As he moved out of Anwyn’s sight, the unhurried calm the vampire had demonstrated until now disappeared, replaced by the mantle of a dangerous predator on the hunt. He lengthened his stride to a cabinet. While Gideon stayed in the corridor, so he could keep an ear to their charge, Daegan pulled the panel back with a rumble of the wood, revealing a silver safe. He keyed in a combination and the door released, showing a stockpile of gleaming weapons. Knives, both metal and wood, stakes, throwing spears and crossbows were there, as well as an array of swords, everything from a claymore to a katana.

Stripping off his coat, Daegan methodically began arming himself, much as Gideon did on a normal vampire-hunting workday. The duster had a place to hang the sword so it would be concealed but readily available. He chose the samurai blade, twirling it once expertly to test the balance before he fitted it into the straps.

“Remember, under no circumstances should you enter that cell when the chains are slack,” Daegan said, as if there’d been no pause in their conversation. “Her moods will be mercurial. It will get painful, as you know.” He threw a glance over his shoulder, holstering what looked like a sleek Walther nine-millimeter. “When the bloodlust takes over, she will be as bad as the most dangerous drug addict, willing to say or do anything to get you close enough to take a vein straight from the source. She will hate the refrigerated blood, but it and the sire’s blood are all she can have until she learns control. If she gets hold of your throat, she will kill you.” He gave Gideon an even look. “Your motivation of a few moments ago was not entirely misguided, but you will not repeat it by yourself.”

“I already told you about giving me orders.”

Daegan’s gaze could have seared flesh. “If you wish to get your throat ripped out, vampire hunter, I do not object. Just do not do it when she still has need of you.”

“Nice. Blow me. What I meant was, you could just say, ‘Feeding her from your neck won’t be a great idea unless someone’s around to keep her from getting overenthusiastic.’ ”

“That’s what I just said.”

When Gideon snorted, Daegan pushed the safe door closed. “You are as dumb as you look, vampire hunter. Fear can sometimes be your ally.”

“Being scared means you give a shit about your life. I don’t.” Gideon drew his six-inch wooden blade, flipped it over in his hand and extended it to Daegan, hilt first. “Know you don’t need it with that arsenal you’re carrying, but if you manage to sink it into the bastard, I’ll feel like I was there by proxy. It’s got a good balance to it. Best kind of throwing knife if you need to pin someone. I know I won’t need it here.” He met Daegan’s eyes. “You’ll be back, after all.”

The vampire inclined his head, taking the knife. Briefly, his hand closed over Gideon’s, then slid away. “While your childish rejection of authority is irritating, your faith is mildly gratifying.”

Dickhead.
“Fine.”

Daegan had put Anwyn’s razor tips in a small bowl on the coffee table, and now he collected them. “I’ll use the smell of their flesh to track them,” he explained. “Regardless of what you think of me, Gideon, take particular care with her. If she gets free, the casualties would be unimaginable, particularly if it’s at night, when the club above is full. The sexual energy would incite her bloodlust further.”

“Do you really give a rat’s ass about them, or would that merely be an unnecessary complication to an already shitty situation?”

“Your hatred of my kind is blinding you,” Daegan said, briefly showing fangs. “You’ve already seen that Anwyn has a deep-seated aversion to being out of control. Now imagine what would happen if such a loss of control resulted in her harming people she cares about, even killing them. She would not survive that, Gideon.”

He met Gideon’s gaze without blinking, that peculiar vampire stillness lending the look additional weight. “But to answer your question baldly, she is what matters most to me. Enough that I will do anything necessary to see her safe and well. So don’t goad me. I am depending on you now, but your worth will decrease in direct proportion to how much you get on my nerves.”

“I’ll tremble in fear over that while you’re gone.”

“You do that.” Daegan turned for the door.

Gideon cursed under his breath.
Shit.
“Rei.” When the vampire tossed him a glance, already halfway through the frame, Gideon spoke gruffly. “Good hunting.”

Another flash of fang, a feral smile, and the vampire was gone.

12

G
IDEON came back into the dungeon room. On a thought, he brought in a couple vases of her flowers, set them on benches he supposed were normally used for flogging happily helpless male slaves, their bare asses sticking in the air. He flinched from the distasteful image.

He knew it was kind of hypocritical, but he didn’t classify their session or how he’d responded to it the same way. Course, maybe he was just being an asshole because he didn’t really want to be lumped in with those pathetic losers. He also didn’t want to think about men who might have been something more than clients to her, brought down to this personal dungeon. Maybe there hadn’t been a lot since she’d known Daegan. The vampire didn’t seem the sharing type, not that way.
Yeah. That makes me feel better.

Anwyn was still curled up on the couch, but at his appearance, she sat up, so obviously relieved to see him, he was sorry he’d stepped out of her sight for even a moment. However, she rearranged her expression immediately to appear as calm as possible, adjusting the dark T-shirt. Almost primly, she crossed her sexy long legs and folded her hands in her lap, a composed image somewhat ruined by the clank of the chains. “You promised to braid my hair. Of course, under the circumstances, I guess you could just give me a brush and I’ll do it myself.”

“No, I can do it.” Gideon moved to the cell door, key already in hand, and then thought of Daegan’s admonition. He had half a mind to ignore the supercilious son of a bitch, but unfortunately his gut and Daegan’s logic were on the same wavelength.
If she kills you, she’s got no one.
“If you don’t mind me taking you back to the wall, that is.”

She swallowed, that composure wavering in her pale face, and lifted a shoulder. “Maybe in a few minutes. I want to be able to move around right now.”

“Okay.” Gideon looked around, found a chair. He couldn’t stand sitting at the door where she couldn’t reach him, as if she were a wild beast he couldn’t trust, no matter how close to the truth that might be. Seeking a good compromise, he moved the chair around to the couch side and straddled it. The sofa was pressed up to the bars, so if she wanted him to do so, he could put his hand through the bars to touch her. Since the chains were almost at full extension at that point, it was an acceptable risk.

Turning, she folded her legs under herself and laid her temple on the sofa back. It was natural to reach through, stroke her hair. Her eyes closed again.

“I’m sorry, Anwyn,” he said quietly. “You don’t know how much.” She didn’t reply, but sat beneath his touch, not discouraging it. Her beautiful hair already felt like the tempting silk that all female vampires had. There was a spot of blood on her shoulder, his blood, but he decided not to remark upon it right now. “This reminds me of the time my parents took my brother and me on a cross-country trip,” he ventured. “The first part of the trip, where we suddenly realized how many hours we’d be in the car, trying to figure out how we were going to pass the time.”

Her hand slid up, curled in the cushions. He would have covered it, but instinct told him to wait, to let her make the request or demand. “What did you do?” she asked, though her voice didn’t reflect much interest.

“Magnetic chess and checkers. Mad Libs. You remember those? Short stories where different parts of the sentences were left blank. You’d tell the other person to give you a noun or verb, an adjective, et cetera. They’d give those to you, without knowing the story. When you read them back, with their words filled in, they’d make you laugh.”

“If I laughed right now, I’d feel like I was laughing at a funeral.”

“You didn’t die, Anwyn. You’re going to be okay.”

Her jaw tightened, her head lifting. “You abhor what I’ve become. You want all vampires dead. So why would you lie to me?”

“Because it would make you feel better to believe it. And I want you to feel better.”

She stared at him. “You’re an honest man. I’m not sure if I appreciate or hate that.”

“I’ve heard both opinions. Usually from the same people, so feel free to vacillate. You’ll be in good company.” Spearing his fingers into the hair at her temple, he gripped her there to draw her attention. “You didn’t ask for this to happen.”

“So that makes it different, because I’m an accident rather than someone who embraced this?”

“Yeah.”

“Why does that make me think of someone who got AIDS through a blood transfusion instead of sex? I didn’t ask for it, so . . .” Her voice drifted off, and a shudder went through her.

He knew where her mind had gone, to what had happened in the alley. Not to the turning, but the more insidious invasion of her person. Drawing away from his touch, she slid down the side of the couch to the floor and folded her arms over herself, bowing her head. “It’s been a long time since I wanted to be dead,” she said in a voice that could have come from the grave, running chills down his spine. “Maybe I should have you go ahead and do it. Maybe that was why Fate brought you here.”

“Sorry; I’ve made my vampire kill this week. No new appointments until next week.” He said it lightly, but her words had clamped like a vise on his gut. Her arms shifted, linking beneath her knees, keeping the T-shirt pulled up to her thighs to retain her modesty. But when her head lowered farther, he thought she was mainly trying to make herself as small as possible.

Damn it, he didn’t care about Daegan’s warning. He knew she wasn’t normally a morbid person, so he wasn’t going to let her sink into the clutches of such black thoughts. Getting up, he took the key and unlocked the cell. Her head lifted only when he squatted in front of her, his boots inches from her bare toes.

“This is stupid,” she said. “I heard what Daegan said to you. And he’s right. Gideon, I can feel it inside of me. It’s like being seasick, feeling it coming and knowing you can’t stop it.”

“I don’t think a Mistress should be on the floor,” he said instead, giving her a steady look. “Why don’t we get you back on the couch?”

“It’s a sham, Gideon. It’s all a stupid, stupid lie. Look at me.” That tremor went through her hands again. He covered them with his own. Their coldness was frightening, but he remembered at times Jacob had been ice-cold as a corpse. Other times he’d burned like a denizen of hell. That might be his key. Keep a hand on her, and the body temperature would indicate when the bloodlust might be returning. Jacob’s always came with heat.

“You’re not a lie. You know I’ve been caught by vamps twice?”

She shook her head. “No. I didn’t know that.”

“You know the one thing they seemed most determined to do? They tortured me, yeah. Fire, whips, all the usual melodramatic movie props. But those were tools. They hurt and scared me. Big fucking deal. You’d have to be dead not to be scared of that. But what they most wanted to do was make me doubt what I was. They wanted to take that away.”

Her face lifted to him then, and he met her gaze. “Those other ladies you sent, they were okay. Yeah, they were Dommes, but not down to the blood and bone. The minute you walked in, I felt what you are, all the way down to those fuck-me shoes you were wearing and wanted to grind into my ass. It was why you scared the shit out of me, because I knew you had the shovel. You were the one who could dig down into the rotting things I didn’t want uncovered. That’s not an act, Mistress. You can’t fake who you are, what you become. No one can take that.”

Before he could regret the raw admission, she tightened her chin. “They hurt me. I hated that. But worse than that, I hated that they
could
hurt me. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I know. That’s always what rips you open the most.” Sliding an arm around her back and under her knees, he lifted her onto the couch from a kneeling position, staying that way as he settled her, adjusting the chains leading from her arms and legs as best as he could. She pressed her fingers to her temples.

“If I’m not interested in Mad Libs, what else can we do to pass the time?” Her voice was soft, a vulnerable, tired woman needing distraction.

He cleared his throat. “Well, if you tell anyone, I
will
stake you, but I give a decent pedicure. Not that you really need one right now.” His glance went to her perfect toes, a mockery of what else had been done to her.

Regardless, the comment startled a short, strangled chuckle out of her. Anwyn put her hands down, regarded him with amusement. “Daegan will be so disappointed if we don’t tell him. He loves to have his toenails painted.”

“Yeah, right.” At the flash of worry that crossed her face, he grimaced. “He’ll be fine, Anwyn. I wouldn’t want to be the thing standing between him and that blood.”

“I know.” She blew out a breath. “Female thing, to worry, I guess. I’m sorry. I know you think you should be out doing that, rather than babysitting me.”

“I’m where I need to be,” he said, covering her hand and letting her see the truth of it in his face. Before she could worry about it further, he latched onto an idea.

“How about Twenty Questions? That’s one that kept us going for hours. In hindsight, it was a sneaky way for our parents to find out things about us we wouldn’t tell them otherwise.”

“And hence a way to find out things about me that are none of your business?”

“Just finding a way to pass the time, Mistress.” He gave her a guileless look. Settling back into a cross-legged position on the floor, he brought his shins within inches of her small feet. He laid a hand on one, keeping tabs on her temperature, and forced himself not to caress the elegant arches and slim heels.

“Well in that case, I’ll play only if you play. Question for a question.” Her gaze glimmered with that insight she’d wielded so well earlier. “If you’re going to pump me for information, it’s going to be equal time.”

“All right, but if you find out I sleep with a teddy bear, then we’ll have to stop playing.” He stopped. “Aw, fuck.”

Her smile was almost genuine, and it warmed him. “You have a sense of humor, Gideon. That’s unexpected. Rusty, but charming.”

“Well, it’s a muscle I don’t work out much. You get first question.” She pursed her lips. “How does a fearsome vampire hunter know how to give a pedicure? And no lying or avoiding questions,” she added. “A penalty for every lie, to be collected at a later time.”

Heat shimmered under his hand. Taking a quick look at her face, he saw her focus had shifted internally, her hands closing into fists as perspiration collected on her lip. While Gideon felt a grim satisfaction at having his detection theory confirmed, it was short-lived.

“Hurts,” she managed.

“Breathe through it,” he said, moving carefully onto his heels. He knew he needed to get the hell out of range, but found himself unable to leave her when that panicked note was in her voice. “This is a transition seizure, different from the bloodlust. Right now, your internal organs are changing.”

“Oh, is that all?” she gasped, giving him a narrow glance.

“Jacob, my brother, had his at pretty consistent intervals the first few hours. We time the first two and we might know when the next ones are coming. For a while.”

“Like labor pains. And no, I’ve never had children.” A deep breath shuddered through her. “Talk. Tell me . . . Answer my question.”

“It was a hooker. She taught me.”

Anwyn tried to breathe through the pain as he suggested. It was an odd sensation, because breathing had become optional, requiring conscious thought. But the heat that licked at her insides wasn’t anything she could stop. Like thunder, the pain was counting down toward the lightning strike, a place where madness would take her, those shadowy voices in her head getting stronger.

When they’d put her in here, she thought she was going to lose her mind in truth, break her sanity with the fear of being chained, caged. It was still there, a panicked animal hidden in the corner of her mind, whimpering, exacerbated by the betrayal of her own body, but he was here. He was with her. He was helping her not think about the horrifying reality of the other things she couldn’t stop.

“Gideon.
Talk
.”

He braced a hand on the couch by her knee in his squatted position. A position that made it clear he was ready to retreat if needed. She wished that didn’t prod something savage inside her, something that wanted him to try to run.

“Most the time, these past few years, when I needed to fuck, it was with paid women.” He put it out there quickly, maybe for his sake as well as hers, as if it embarrassed him to admit it. “I chose women in pretty good circumstances, maybe not the best, but not in the gutters, either. That night . . . She had an ex-boyfriend who was giving her a hard time, so for whatever reason, after we’d done our thing, she said she liked my company, and if I wanted to stay the night at her place, it would give her a night off from worrying. She said I looked like I might need a night off, too.”

Remembering the jaded weariness in his more unguarded moments during their session, Anwyn could imagine what the prostitute had seen. A good man who could be trusted, who could use a bit of mothering in exchange for the protection of his presence.