Vampire Mistress (38 page)

It’s bad blood, awful blood. I don’t . . . I can’t.

“It’s the only blood I want,” Gideon said hoarsely, trying to hold her attention. He wanted to put a hand on her face, but he was too weak or his spine was snapped.

Instead she shoved herself to her feet, stumbled back. “No. I’ve . . . Great Goddess, look what I’ve done to him. I thought I was all right. I was sure of it . . . I’ll never be in control again. I can’t live like this. I’m sorry, Gideon . . . I can’t—Daegan, come help him.” Her fists clenched, her voice full of pain, face a distorted mask, even more horrible than when the shadow creatures had controlled her, because this was her turned inside out, all her raw, deepest emotions naked and trembling before Gideon’s straining gaze. “I can’t help anyone. You shouldn’t have saved me. Neither of you.”

Gideon tried his best to grab her, and found he had one weakly functioning arm. She was gone, the door open.
Daegan, she’s running. Go after her.

I will.

Then he remembered. It was still broad daylight.

24

S
HE was headed for the alley, and thank all the gods she was too upset and too new to her powers to move at full vampire speed. Daegan held on to her mind as if he were a fish she’d hooked, the barbed edges of her thoughts puncturing him and dragging him through the chaos of her mind. As he burst from the underground rooms, he took the side hallways so quickly his presence was felt but not seen, a rush of cold air that shivered through the waitstaff, maintenance and security people he passed. He snatched a radio from one, earning a startled yelp, and barked into it. “James.”

James came on immediately. “Yeah.”

“Privacy room three. Gideon needs help, but do not call an ambulance. Do what you can for him. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Dropping the radio, he hit the side door and automatically shielded his eyes against the sunlight hitting the brick wall of the next building. She’d returned to a place she never would have wanted to see again. Traces of her blood or clothing probably still remained in this hated alley. Quickly evaluating the scene, he saw several cats grouped in the corner near the Dumpster.

The sun’s angle seared his shoulder, but he dodged and moved along the shadows of this building. Despite the fact it wasn’t direct sun, to a fledgling it would feel like a searing-hot wind, threatening to burn her flesh off her bones. He heard her cries. Rage and something deeper had him shoving the Dumpster away from the wall. She was curled in a fetal ball behind it in garbage, a kitten standing on her hip, meowing plaintively. When he caught her up in his arms, kitten and all, he ignored her painful scream as his arms tightened over her, rubbing her clothes over her sensitized skin. The kitten jumped free and in two blinks, Daegan was back inside the door, holding her against his heart, which was thundering in his chest.

He didn’t trust himself to speak, but took her back to her rooms at the same speed, so their passage would not be noted. When he reached the apartment, he strode directly to the cell, put her down on the sofa. She curled into the couch, away from him.

Should have let me die.

He was on his way back out of the cell, but her broken, repeated whisper was too much. Everything he’d been feeling in the past few days, unable to accept or share with her, was too much. With a snarl, he spun back to the couch, caught her hair in his fist and yanked her head back, lifting her half off the couch so she had to face him.

She’d never feared him. He’d always been amazed and reassured by it at once, never sought to test or change it. But facing his full, unfettered wrath, he saw she finally understood why it was smart to be afraid of him. Anyone with sense would realize swords or guns were the least hazardous thing about him.

“If you ever,
ever
say anything like that again to me, Anwyn Inara Naime, I will chain you to that fucking cross and blister the skin from your back with a tawser, far past when you are begging me to stop. I may still do it. You are alive. You are loved. You
will
get through this. That’s the end of it.”

He gave her a quick once-over, knew she was in pain, but the skin was already knitting. “You stay right here. Remember that I can be here faster than anything you can do to yourself. If you try to hurt yourself again, you will truly know what suffering is.”

He left her wide-eyed, like a terrified, chastised child in truth. Slamming the cell door shut, he locked it and the apartment and headed topside, ignoring the ache in his throat, in his chest. He made it to that privacy room in a matter of seconds, startling the hostess coming down the hallway when he suddenly appeared at her side. “James asked me to bring this,” she faltered, handing out the first aid kit.

“Thank you,” Daegan said. “I will take it to him. Go back to your work.”

She fled, not questioning why this male she didn’t know was giving her orders. But then, he expected nothing less. He shouldered into the room, which was too small with the three large men in it.

Holy Mother. He’d been focused on Anwyn, knowing Gideon was badly hurt, but now he saw the extent of it, understood why Gideon hadn’t been concerned about himself. Not that the man had ever possessed much of a sense of self-preservation. His body was broken in too many places, and he lay in blood that seemed to be mainly from his ripped throat. The second mark and his own clumsy efforts had slowed the loss of arterial blood, but he was still in an astonishingly large pool of it. James had wisely not moved him, but seeing Gideon sprawled, his arm still stretched toward the door as if trying to stop her, made the whole scenario harder to swallow.

He squatted, nodded to James. “I’ll take it from here.”

The security man knew enough to be wary, but Daegan gave him credit for the balls to ask after his employer. “Is she all right?”

“Yes.”
For now. Until I get my hands on her again.
But Daegan gave a short nod. “Thank you, James. You are a credit to her, and to this place. In a few minutes, send someone discreet to clean up the room. I’ll call from downstairs if we need you.”

The man left with visible reluctance, but some relief as well. Daegan ignored it. No one felt comfortable around him on a good day, and this one was far from that. Gideon grunted. He didn’t move his head, and Daegan was fairly sure it was because he couldn’t. “Don’t be pissed off at her,” he rasped. “It was my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was mine.”
All of it.

“Bullshit.” But Gideon obviously didn’t have the energy to pursue it. “I’m going to be dead in a few minutes.” His eyes closed. “Go help her. She needs you. Especially since I’m not going to be around to take up the slack for you.”

Daegan ignored him, taking a quick assessment of his injuries. The back of his skull had a soft spot the size of his fist. His lips compressed. The fact the hunter wasn’t protesting being touched by him was an even greater indication of how wounded he was. He seemed uninterested in anything but the last thoughts stumbling through his mind.

“Do what you n-need to do with my body, but l-let my brother know I’m gone. Dress it up a little . . . ’kay? Make me sound . . . heroic. Like I rescued a busload of handicapped orphans . . . puppies. That way . . . won’t think . . . should have been here. Save me from myself. Irish Catholic guilt . . .”

He coughed, and blood flecked his lips, breath rattling in his throat. His eyes were glazing in a way that Daegan was not going to tolerate.

“Gideon.” He put as much command in his voice as he’d delivered when he’d roared in Anwyn’s mind. While this was a lower decibel, it was no less emphatic. Gideon’s eyes opened, swiveled to him.

“I’m going to take you to her, and she’s going to take care of her servant, the way she’s supposed to. She’s going to give you that third mark, and you are going to live.”

Gideon gave a weak half snort. “Too far gone. Better this way, anyhow. Third wheel . . .” His voice faded off, his attention oddly detached. “You can do a better job . . . You didn’t let her come up here. Don’t carry me.”

“Shut up and save your strength.” Daegan had slid his arms under the man’s body but paused, mentally preparing himself for a very fast transport, plus a very rapid third-marking, even if he had to force Anwyn to it unwilling. It was possible moving Gideon would be enough to kill him, but even if it didn’t, the man might be right. He might be too far gone. But it was the only possibility for saving his life.

As he lifted Gideon, the man’s heartbeat began to stutter. Daegan took off, moving faster than the light sparking along the shards of the blood-soaked mirror they left behind.

Anwyn was still curled on the couch when he got there. He brought Gideon into the cell, laid him on the opposite end of the sofa, stretching out his legs so that they slid against her hip. She curled into a tighter ball, but Daegan closed his hand on one of her arms and yanked her loose from the tight coil.

She came off the couch in a flash of motion, her fangs bared, hands going for his face. Part of it was the monster in her blood; part of it was the woman, enraged by the way he’d pulled her back from the suicide she’d sought. She hadn’t even really registered the body he’d laid next to her.

He fixed that quickly enough. Twisting her around, he knocked her to her knees beside the unconscious Gideon. She froze, her gaze riveted on the too-pale face. “He’s dying.”

“Not yet. Mark him.”

She fought his hold. “No, you do it. I can’t—”

He shook her, hard enough to snap her head back painfully, drawing her attention to him. “Your mark is the only thing that can save him.”

“But you—”

“I’m not doing it. You are.”

He forced her head down to Gideon’s throat. The man was covered with blood, so it was easy enough to activate a young fledgling’s hunger. Her fangs elongated. She was weeping, her hands shaking. “He didn’t want this.”

Daegan hardened his heart to her, to all of it.
He doesn’t know what the hell he really wants. A vampire takes what she wants. You take him, make him all the way yours. And then you’ll make him glad you did it
.

As a human, she would have known only that he was badly hurt. The supernatural predator she was now knew the damage was mortal. She’d killed him. He was dying. She could smell it, the insidious voices in her head delighted with her.

Gideon had known it was a risk, but he’d cared more about her need to reclaim some sense of herself than his own well-being. He would have stood between her and anyone she might have hurt, taking them both down before anything happened. She knew that about him. But she’d thought only of herself.

“You’re still doing that.” Daegan was merciless, plundering her mind.
Mark him . . .

The vampire in her craved to do what he said, the vicious predator Barnabus had put in her mind egging her on. But it was that commanding tone that blasted away the last remnant of protest, the tone that wouldn’t be refused, even by a Mistress. He was a Master who would not be defied, not now or ever.

She sank her fangs into Gideon’s throat, goaded past the part of herself that was beyond morality, deep in animal instinct.
He’ll never escape you.
The shadow voices rejoiced.

“Keep drinking, but get the serum in there. Don’t stop until I say so, no matter what he does.”

She didn’t know why that admonishment was necessary, because the primal part of her took over, eager to keep tasting the rich fluid, the mix of her binding agents in it. Then Gideon started convulsing.

The hunter’s humanity was vital to her, but that strength had been a weakness. Daegan had forgotten how an honorable, decent human being would think in such a situation, respecting her free will in a way he wouldn’t have, keeping her ass down here even if she swore an oath in blood never to forgive him.

Even to him, the vampire hunter who’d survived so much, killed so many, had seemed far more invincible. But humans were so fragile, too fragile. The compromise to his skull, the internal hemorrhaging, would kill him in a matter of minutes, unless Anwyn could win the race.

If there was time to do this right, she could have aroused him, minimized the seizurelike effect. At least she hadn’t had to mark him with all three at once. He had told her that combining them like that was like shooting acid into the veins of the unfortunate human. It also inflicted a simultaneous paralysis on them so the agony didn’t have the relief of movement or unconsciousness. Some more sadistic vampires did it that way for that very reason, but he wasn’t one of them. Even now Daegan wished he could close his senses to the rigidity of Gideon’s body, trapped in that straitjacket of pain and agonized transition, which reawakened deadened nerves. While it could be a good sign that she was pulling him back from the brink, he’d been very close to the other side. The trauma could still take him in the end.