Vampire Trinity (38 page)

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Authors: Joey W. Hill

BOOK: Vampire Trinity
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“Do you want an opinion from the floor?”
Anwyn spoke the question in a hoarse voice. As she raised her lashes, they were wet from tears, the stress of her vomiting. Daegan stroked the moisture from the corners of her eyes as Gideon held her upper body. “You’ll be fine. Nothing has changed from a moment ago.”
“Putting me down is no longer an option,” she said, as if he hadn’t spoken. “Gideon’s life is dependent on mine. You’ll have to treat me like Barnabus, lock me away in a cage—”
“Anwyn.” Gideon tightened his arms around her, drew her gaze. “You never need to worry about that. It’s not going to happen, but if you couldn’t get better, we’d go together. It would be that simple. I wouldn’t let you suffer just so I could live.”
“I thought I’d made this very clear.” Daegan’s hands were gentle on her face, but the expression he gave them both was implacable. “No one is dying; no one is being executed; no one is going to sacrifice themselves in an act of pointless nobility. We are going to get through this. It is going to be difficult and terrible at times, but we are going to do it. As soon as the two of you can accept it and stop having these morbid fantasies, the better. Gideon, get her cleaned up, and yourself as well. I’m going to go change my shirt. We leave this room in twenty minutes.”
Rising, he strode into the next bedroom. Gideon lifted a brow. “You’d think he was the one with something stuck up his ass. Which, by the way, means I should get extra credit for what I just did. I could feel that thing the whole time.”
Anwyn tried for a smile, but instead laid her hand on Gideon’s face. “That was amazing, what you both did. How did you know that would even work?”
“The usual. Good old intuition and dumb luck.” He lifted his shoulder. “When I’m not tracking vampires, I have to do something. Arcades are great places for anonymity, and practicing hand-to-eye coordination. Your quip about computer games helped me remember it faster.” He stroked her hair from her face. “You need to stop holding it in, Mistress. Don’t internalize the stress. Those bastards feed on it like candy.”
Anwyn shook her head. It was the only way she could do it. She wouldn’t accept that control was an illusion. Perhaps they’d wrest it periodically from her hands, but she wouldn’t hand it over to them without a fight. She drew in a deep breath. Though it felt beyond the realm of possibility at this moment, she knew they were right. She couldn’t let this shake her confidence. Not tonight. She had to reclaim the feeling she’d had before she opened the door. Daegan was right to be irritable with her.
Gideon grunted. “You know, for a smart lady, you’ve still got a blind eye when it comes to him.”
“What do you mean?” As she struggled to her feet, Gideon helping her, she tried not to look at that puddle of blood she’d left soaking the stone floor and what was likely a very expensive Persian rug. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be. I provide you perfectly good meals, and you go wasting them.” He cupped her face, pressing an unexpected kiss to her forehead. “Don’t be stupid. Mistress.”
She curled her hand over his thick wrist, tangling the chains, using the support to steady herself. “What did you mean about Daegan?”
“He has no family, no close friends. It’s obvious even the vampires don’t fully claim him. Just you. You’re his family, Anwyn.”
“Not just me,” she said. “You’ve got one of those blind sides yourself, Gideon.”
“Yeah, he and I are best girlfriends.” He snorted. “If it wasn’t for you, we’d probably have killed each other by now.”
She arched a brow, even as he firmly guided her into a chair, probably because he could tell her knees were shaking. “He knew you before I did,” she said. “Maybe he made a connection to you long before you were ever introduced formally. He told
us
to stop dwelling on dying. Not just me. Since you die if I die, it would seem redundant and unnecessary to tell us both, right? Unless he values both of us.”
“Or he could be shaken up and wasn’t thinking straight. He can get insecure too, you know.” At her dubious look, he snorted. “Regardless, loving and doting big brother just left me with you and this blood to clean up, and wants us ready in twenty minutes. If he values me any more highly, I may stick this broken chair leg up his uppity backside.”
Anwyn began to rise to help him, but her servant made it clear she was going to sit on a chair while he did everything else. Bringing a cloth, he cleaned her up first. Fortunately, projectile vomiting like Linda Blair meant she hadn’t gotten enough on her to warrant changing. Gideon then cleaned the floor as only an impatient man could, with a haphazard use of the good bath towels that made her wonder what curses the cleaning staff would be heaping on him. But it was better than dwelling on what else the night would bring.
Particularly when it was off to such a promising start.
The chandelier was a waterfall of glass shards brought to shimmering life by the low-toned bulbs hidden somewhere among their curtain. Gideon expected it was probably worth as much as the college education he’d refused, despite the football scholarship he’d been offered.
Somehow, the idea of hanging out in dorms, drinking beer and indulging in the starry-eyed academic idealism that the world could be changed if you wished hard enough, like Dorothy in Kansas, didn’t sound as appealing once your girlfriend had been ripped open like a downed deer. The people who said you didn’t dream in color were full of shit. He hated the recurring nightmare where Laura’s pastel yellow dress glowed like neon mustard, the arterial blood like graffiti paint.
He guessed he should have expected his immediate surroundings would plunge him into those kinds of memories, but with effort, he tried to bring his mind back into the present.
The dining table was probably twenty-five feet long, with the Council members, Daegan and Anwyn placed at generously spaced intervals. He deliberately kept his attention away from the centerpiece as the waitstaff brought out appetizers and small portions of gourmet meals in several courses. The vampires would savor those morsels through smell, sight, and discerning bites before sending the bulk of it back to the kitchen. It would probably be enjoyed by the serving class of the castle, like him. Maybe Daegan or Anwyn could ask for a doggie bag. Particularly if his stomach started growling.
Vampires.
The one bright spot so far, with some reservations, was that the Council had invited Lord Brian to join them. In their flurry of preparations, Gideon had forgotten Brian had returned to his main laboratory and research facility in the Berlin compound by now. What made him uneasy was that Brian wasn’t high enough on the totem pole to be invited to a Council private dinner, unless there was a specific reason for him to be there. It was likely that Vincent had reported on the incident with Anwyn earlier and they wanted their resident pet scientist to observe her.
While predicting a vampire’s loyalties was never foolproof, it wasn’t likely that Brian had told the Council about his time with them earlier, since that had been a favor to Lady Lyssa, one Brian had agreed to keep discreet. His behavior confirmed it, because he greeted Daegan and Anwyn as if it were their first meeting. It made Gideon like the scientist even more, but he wasn’t going to bank on it too heavily. If the Council requested an evaluation of Anwyn, he knew the man would be honest with them on what he found, no way around it. In truth, the fanged geek was probably itching to have her come to the lab so he could track how his serum was doing on her.
Of course, despite the vampire propensity for hiding emotions, Brian couldn’t completely disguise the brief flash of utter shock that went through his green eyes when he saw Gideon attending Anwyn as her servant within the Council walls.
Yeah, you and me both, buddy. It’s a weird world.
Debra was with him, of course. Compared to the fetish wear and more seductive fashion statements worn by the other servants, positioned along the wall behind their Masters’ or Mistresses’ chairs, Debra was classic sensuality. She wore a formfitting deep crimson sheath and heels, simple jewelry and a ribbon choker that dangled a bloodred stone. Her blond hair was piled up. Though she looked pretty, Gideon had the sense she’d thrown the outfit together after a long day in the lab. He wanted to smile at her, but knew they had to pretend not to know each other. She gave him a cool, polite nod, which was actually far better than the vibes he was getting elsewhere in the room.
Just as she’d warned him, the scrutiny of the other servants was decidedly unfriendly, a “you have no business here” message, loud and clear. While vampires didn’t hold a grudge about his acts of sabotage against their kind, apparently servants did. Servants bonded closely with other servants, an exclusive little trade union, and a lot of servants had died during the attack on Mason’s estate.
He’d never understood servants. Even now, he’d chosen the path he had because Anwyn, a victimized human, needed him, not because a vampire had asked for his loyalty. Turn ownership of your soul over to a creature who already saw your species as inferior, who would consider you their property once those marks were in place? Crazy. And yet most servants who entered a vampire’s service willingly seemed to embrace it.
He understood that Jacob and Lyssa loved each other, even though it was an oddly intense, brutal sort of devotion. But most vampires weren’t Lyssa, who’d been willing to die for her servant. So he still didn’t get it.
Think of knights and their liege lord or lady. Or both.
Cute.
His attention returned to Anwyn at her murmur in his mind. Her profile was enticing, the sweet rise of her breasts over the corset as she responded to something Lord Uthe said, a smile playing on her lips. It distracted him from the irritating soreness of his back, kept him from twitching over it. He wouldn’t give the bastards that satisfaction. Plus, if she could handle this without flinching, so could he. When she turned her face toward him on occasion, he could tell her smile didn’t reach her eyes. A large part of what she did at her club had to be performance, but there he’d sensed her full heart was in it. She wanted to be anywhere but here, but she was doing a good job at portraying herself otherwise. He didn’t think anyone other than he or Daegan could tell, except maybe Brian. For all that the scientist tended to immerse himself in his research to the point that Debra had to be his communications liaison, he didn’t miss much that was important. He probably knew Anwyn’s emotional fluctuations as well as they did.
Anwyn had also taken Gideon’s warning to heart, not expending any energy on keeping the curtain of her mind drawn between them tonight. Fortunately, he was getting better at sifting through multiple sources of information in his head.
She was pouring all her effort into holding it together in this environment, as well as giving him the maximum ability to recognize another seizure coming upon her. They’d devised several different ways to handle that, but none of them had anticipated the Council trapping them into a formal dinner where she was the center of attention. What they could do in this situation, he wasn’t sure, but he hastened to add in his mind that he would be resourceful enough to come up with something. He was sure Daegan was staying just as close to her gray matter.
Her lips curved, a faintly rueful gesture as she tossed him a surreptitious glance.
It sucks, knowing I can hear “I haven’t a fucking clue what I’ll do,” right?
Yeah, but that’s the way I handle most crises in my life. I’m still here to talk about them.
Her gaze sparkled with a trace of humor.
Noted, and reassured. Thank you. I notice you haven’t been appreciating the table centerpiece.
Sex slaves surrounded by spring foliage is so last year. Martha Stewart’s mag says so.
He heard her laughter in his head, was warmed by it and the ever-so-slight easing of her tense shoulders, before she turned her attention back to the conversation. He’d need to give her a massage tonight, take out some of those kinks. He could do that passably well. He hadn’t ever had any training, just somehow knew where the knots were, and how to untie them. And touching her was no hardship, ever.
Brian had been placed across the table from Anwyn. Daegan was seated at one end, Belizar at the other, Anwyn to Daegan’s right. Gideon of course was against the wall behind his Mistress’s chair. He’d covered every inch of the terrain, but now, against his will, his eyes were tugged back to that centerpiece she’d teased him about.

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