Vampire Trinity (59 page)

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Authors: Joey W. Hill

BOOK: Vampire Trinity
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“As I told you from the beginning, you’re not a submissive, Gideon, but you are a servant. You serve. That’s your deepest dream, to protect and serve the love and needs of another to the fullest extent of your soul. And I think Daegan and I are the ones you wish to serve. But you have to believe that yourself. A Master or Mistress can help you with your belief. It doesn’t have to be perfect from the very beginning. But you have to accept it exists before we can do anything else.
“I think I told you once it’s easier for some submissive males to be forced. You give them the safe word they’ll never use, and then you have a license to beat them, chain them, drag them to you by their balls, no matter how much they fight or struggle or curse you. Because nothing is more frightening to them than being forced to face the fact they need, they suffer. They love.”
He was drawing darkness around him with every word, shoving her away from his mind, shoving her back from him. She stopped, bit her lip, gave herself a full moment before she spoke again. He stayed silent, waiting. Waiting to escape.
“Go, Gideon,” she said. “Because you’re not a submissive, I won’t grant your wish. You’re my servant. I want your obedience and surrender, freely given.”
Stepping back now such that she drew his attention to her face, she hardened her tone. “And I want it for both of us. You give it to me
and
Daegan, belong to us both the way I know your cock, heart and soul want to, or you don’t come back. We are a family,” she said, her voice laden with emotion. “But one of choice. You no longer have my permission to dishonor that with lies to yourself. Choose, or go with my love and best wishes.”
Choose. Yeah, right. With her three freaking bullet points, she’d set an impossible bar. Probably because she knew it was impossible. They didn’t want him here. But for a few moments, he was paralyzed. He guessed he’d known all along. The pain had been building for these three days, so now her words froze every nerve ending, made it hard to breathe or even function.
She’d turned on her heel without another word, and left their quarters. Leaving him to pack up his few belongings and get out. It took only minutes, something that felt like hours. When he was done, he didn’t let himself look at anything. Not the morning paper Daegan had left on the sofa so Gideon could read it, a new routine they’d adopted, or the silk robe Anwyn had draped on the back of her vanity chair, visible through the open door of her bedroom. The fabric would smell like her, and he had to fight the desire to steal it, ball it up and stick it in his bag to take with him.
The stuffed gremlin he’d bought her was sitting on her bed, staring at him in a way that felt smug, not cute. Which just confirmed he was about two clicks from losing it.
All the items in these rooms had meanings and significance, things that identified them as Daegan’s and Anwyn’s. He’d seen into their minds, when they’d let him, and he’d had a precious few weeks to experience being a part of them. Maybe being one of those items, in a weird way.
For just a minute, he wished he had direct access to Daegan’s mind, so he could figure out . . . something. Appalled with himself, he realized he was doing exactly what she’d implied, appealing to one “parent” about what the other had done. Besides, Daegan had damn well known this was coming. That was why he hadn’t said anything. Oh yeah, he’d say some reasonable bullshit, too, only for Daegan it would be about giving Anwyn the free will to handle her choice of servant the way she saw fit. But either way, he no longer had to share her with Gideon, did he?
Shut up.
He swore at himself viciously. None of that made any sense, but he knew empty lies to himself to keep him pissed off were better than acknowledging the truth, the pain he’d seen in her face, the tears threatening behind her eyes. The quiet sadness he’d caught in Daegan’s expression these past few days, as if the vampire would change the outcome if he could.
But Anwyn had made it clear. Only Gideon could change it. Damn it, this was the way he was. If they couldn’t accept that, then fuck them. He was done. He could be whatever she needed, within certain boundaries, but that wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want him.
More lies.
Though it felt like he was going to his own execution, Gideon left the apartment, let the door close behind him. Walking up the corridor through accounting and maintenance, he avoided the higher-traffic areas, headed for the alley exit that would take him out of Atlantis and the strangely welcome reality he’d found there.
Home and family.
Bullshit.
Bullshit.
He summoned the rage, but it didn’t hold against the other shit. Hell, she was right. He’d never been cut out for this, and though it hurt like hell to leave her behind, she’d been the smart one, right? She was going to be fine now. She and Daegan both. They didn’t need him. She’d gotten through the Council. Yeah, maybe she’d still have the seizures, but . . . Fuck it, she’d said she could do without him, so fine. Her well-being was no longer his concern, right?
He put his fist into the brick wall, was somewhat amazed when it crumbled, though his knuckles vibrated with the pain of impact. There. He’d made his mark. Maybe sometime she’d be out here, feeding her cats, and her hand would drift over it, feel his lingering presence.
Damn it.
Yeah, he was mad right now. But he did care. He wasn’t that much of an ass. When push came to shove, it was the right thing. He’d always known it. Maybe one day he’d even be okay thinking about them, and it wouldn’t feel like this, like he wanted to howl and rage, tear something apart. Only he couldn’t figure out what.
As Gideon shouldered his duffle and headed out the side alley, the alley where he’d found her that terrible night, Anwyn watched him from the second-story level of the club, her office on the main floor. When he put his fist in the wall, she flinched.
She guessed she’d advanced to the head of the class on hiding her feelings from him, because inside she was beating on the bars of her own mind as violently as she’d fought her restraints during her transition. That part of her was begging the cold, efficiently closed-down part of her to lift the gate, let her say a better good-bye. It was like watching her heart walk away.
It was no surprise to feel Daegan’s hands close on her shoulders. She didn’t let herself break, though, just quivered under his touch and watched the tall, dangerous-looking man walk away and disappear around the corner.
“He wouldn’t listen. He’s telling himself that we’ve rejected him. That I don’t want him.” She laid her hand on the glass, over the receding figure just before he vanished.
Daegan’s hand covered hers, his fingers pressing to the pane between the spaces. “You knew he needed to leave us to make up his mind,
cher
. You saw it in his mind. He needs time. You both do.”
He was so fucked-up, their vampire hunter with so much rage and a heart of gold. She was his last sanctuary. Hadn’t Daegan said something like that? But she’d just sent him out into the cold, knowing all he’d face was his own desolation, and he might not have the ability to work his way through it.
She locked her jaw against the fear, the threatening tears. She couldn’t keep him, couldn’t protect him from himself. Not until he wanted that, was ready to accept it. To deal with that pain, she would ruthlessly shut that curtain between their minds, dedicate herself to reinforcing it until she at last perfected a complete block. The best way to deal with a drug was a full withdrawal. If she couldn’t hear his thoughts anymore, the pain would fade. She could handle it. She would. She wouldn’t worry every waking moment about what he was doing, if he was okay. If she’d sent him to his death, the kind of death that came with blank despair.
The shadow creatures laughed.
And kept laughing, getting louder and louder, until she did her best to tear them out of her head, using her hands or whatever solid surface presented itself. She knew she made it worse because she struggled to keep her mind closed even as she fought those monsters, but she didn’t want Gideon to know. If he came back to help her, she’d only give in, do the wrong, easy thing, and be forced to reenact the same scene again, a few months down the road. Then it would be even worse, though she couldn’t imagine anything that felt worse than this now.
As she screamed and thrashed, Daegan took over the wall, made her understand he’d cocooned her mind so she didn’t have to worry about Gideon knowing. Then she let go, let the blackness take her.
A few bloody and violent hours later, she found herself with Daegan, back in her apartment belowground. He held her between his knees on the floor. With his arms tight around her, she buried into him and sobbed, trying to ignore the frightening fact she’d let an essential part of her soul go.
She wasn’t sure how much soul she had left to spare.
20
S
OON after leaving, Gideon felt a disturbance from her. Before he could respond to her distress, an instinct he didn’t question, he’d felt something else. Her destructive and excessive effort to keep him shut out of her head, a clear message that she didn’t need his help. Then a block, a sense of Daegan that told him he’d helped her.
Once the dust settled, the connection with her remained, even though it was like an abandoned room, whispering with past voices, nothing left of the present. To get away from it, the first thing he did was drive halfway across the country. He knew that most vampire mind-link ranges were within a thousand miles, much less for a fledgling, so as he kept a loose hand on the wheel of the old Nova, he let the rhythmic thump of the asphalt beneath the turning tires drown out the whispers in that abandoned room. As they died away, it made it easier not to strain to hear them, to see if maybe one of those whispers was talking to him, asking him to come back.
There was a vampire in Seattle who’d taken twenty kills the previous year, and that was his first target. Once he got into town, found the usual dive where he could sleep and plan, he set up his prey as he always did. A couple of weeks later, he made the kill, then threw up afterward. It made him savagely angry, such that he destroyed the shack where he’d cornered the vamp, tearing down boards and risking electrocution from the faulty wiring before he set it on fire, a wooden pyre on top of the body.
It wasn’t long after that he had the insidious, tempting thought. He should kill another vamp like Trey. Daegan would come looking for him. Gideon could see him, maybe smell Anwyn’s lingering scent on the vampire, feel the warm touch of her mind one last time before Daegan ended him. Losing a servant had been described as leaving an aching hole in a vampire’s soul, but Gideon was sure she’d fill it with someone far more appropriate in no time.
He refused to think about the things she said, but he wasn’t stupid. In hindsight, Gideon knew she’d done what she thought was best, even if he couldn’t bring himself to face or believe the reasons she’d given. He knew it had hurt her. As a result, him being taken out would likely be for the best. Then she wouldn’t have to suffer guilt or anything else. He didn’t want her to worry about anything, not ever again. He was too fucked-up for anyone, anyhow. He’d just forgotten that for a little while, and it had made him mad to be reminded of it. Really wasn’t her fault.
His brother called several times, but Gideon never answered. One night he tossed the phone out the car window and watched it shatter on the gravel shoulder. He didn’t know who or what to be anymore, so he’d just be nothing and nobody. A shadow even more ghostlike than Daegan himself. A being that wanted no name, no soul, nothing that would make him feel or care or suffer loneliness. He’d reached the end of the road. The only thing left was what kind of cliff he’d drive over.

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