by Мишель Роуэн
“Wow, she must have been really great in the sack.” I said it lightly, but my throat felt thick from hearing that he’d come an inch away from changing his evil ways. “However, you did go back to business as usual, didn’t you?”
“I did. I can’t deny that. And it’s true what you said. Hunting made me feel whole. It gave me purpose when otherwise there was none. But—” his brow furrowed. “—now I’m on the brink of becoming a vampire, myself. Of my own free will—”
“Not that you have much of a choice.”
“No, but the thought of becoming the thing I’ve always hunted doesn’t fill me with fear or apprehension. It fills me with hope. I don’t want to go back to what I was. I want to be different. I want to change. And when I do, maybe I can change other hunters’ views on vampires.”
A chill went down my arms. I shook my head, not wanting to believe him. “You’re lying to me right now, aren’t you?”
“I’m not.” He blinked. “Help me, Sarah. Please give me some of your blood tonight. It might not even work, but you’re the only one who can stop this pain right now.”
I couldn’t process what he’d said. It was too incredible. Gideon wanted to be different?
He wanted to change things?
“Dammit,” I said under my breath when I saw him shudder again as a wave of agony swept through him. His chest hitched.
Fine. The Sarah Happy Hour was officially open for business—even though he’d given me nothing in return but words.
I didn’t even feel the blade as I slid it over my forearm. Okay, that was a lie. It stung like a son of a bitch, but it did help that I was currently quite numb from hearing Gideon’s tales from the dark side.
Then I presented my arm to him. “Cheers.”
He studied it for a moment as if surprised I’d actually agreed to be his nightcap. The line of red welled up where I’d made the cut. He finally brought my arm up to his mouth.
Since he didn’t have a natural thirst for blood, still being human and all, he didn’t slurp greedily at the wound as a hungry vampire would. Instead, I felt the warm touch of his mouth, tentative at first, as he tasted me.
I felt awkward and more than a little bit scared by our proximity as he drank deeper. He didn’t let go of me. In fact, his grip became stronger.
After a minute he looked up at me with surprise. “I think it’s working. The pain is lessening.”
“I’m a walking, talking cure-all for demonic injuries.”
“You are.” He smiled and lowered his mouth to my arm again.
I felt something stir deep inside me from the sensation of his tongue sliding against my skin. It disturbed me a million times more than anything else that night.
Gideon is not Quinn, I sternly reminded myself. He’s evil. No matter what he tries to make you believe, it doesn’t change anything. It’s only words.
And he wasn’t Thierry. I loved Thierry. No matter how frustrated I got with his stubborn and secretive nature, it didn’t change the fact that I wanted to be with him. That’s why I did what Gideon wanted. To make sure everything went smoothly. That everything turned out okay in the end.
Gideon had my arm so tightly in his grip that I had to brace myself against his chair as he continued to drink.
He made a strange sound, like a sigh of relief. “It’s the first time since the accident that the pain is completely gone.”
He rose to his feet in front of me with renewed strength. His hands moved around to the small of my back and he pulled me up against him. I braced my hand against his chest.
“I think the bar is closed,” I said.
“Then I should probably settle my tab.”
He moved his mouth down to nuzzle at my neck, his hands moving lower to skim along my waist and hips.
“Gideon, stop—”
And then, suddenly, he was kissing me.
Gideon Chase was kissing me.
This was so not good.
Even less good was the fact that I was kissing him back.
But only for a second.
I pushed at him using every ounce of my vampire strength. It was more than enough to force him away from me.
I wiped at my mouth with the back of my hand. “That wasn’t on the menu.”
“I haven’t felt so well in some time. I couldn’t help myself.” He smiled widely at me, showing off his perfect white teeth. “And I knew you liked me, despite everything. You can’t deny it anymore, can you? I think we could be very good friends if you let yourself.”
“Think again.”
“I’m going to be a vampire very soon and you’ll be my sire. That brings with it a very special bond, doesn’t it?”
My cheeks felt like they were on fire. “Not the kind of bondage you’re thinking of. I think this little meeting is over. I’m leaving.” I turned toward the door.
He easily cut me off and blocked my exit. “Stay with me.”
“I don’t think so.” I reached past him for the doorknob.
He grabbed my wrist. Above it, the wound had already begun to heal. “I know that you and Quinn are involved again. I was informed you were seen with him earlier today.”
News did travel fast. It must have been the man with the suspicious-looking seeing-eye dog in the café. I knew it. “So what if I am?”
He shifted his grip to take my hand in his and entwined his fingers with mine. “Forget him.” He leaned in to whisper against my lips. “And forget Thierry. Stay with me tonight.
I want you.”
He kissed me again. But he’d succeeded in putting the thought of Thierry firmly in my head and a wave of guilt swept over me. What was I still doing here?
I pushed at him, but he only deepened the kiss and slid his tongue into my mouth. I bit it.
A small nip wasn’t enough to transfer any of my trusty vamp virus to him but it did manage to get him to jerk back from me. He held a hand to his mouth.
“Don’t try that again,” I said darkly.
His eyes narrowed and he grabbed my arm tight enough to hurt. “I usually take what I want when I want it.”
“I’ll remember that if I have to fill out a police report.” I shook my head. “See? I knew the real Gideon was in there somewhere under that nice shiny surface.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And yet you can’t seem to stay away from me, can you? And you willingly kissed me before. Don’t try to deny it.”
My stomach sank. “I won’t deny it. But listen to me, Gideon. I don’t care what you say to me or what you try to make me believe, the only reason I’m doing what you want me to do is that you’re forcing me to. You threatened my friends. You’re holding the grimoire as ransom to use against me.”
“I do regret having to use such extreme measures, but I was very desperate for you to agree to what I need from you. I promise to make it up to you one day. Rethink staying with me tonight. We could explore if we have anything more between us than our many differences.” He slid his hand down my back to the small of my spine.
I shook my head. “Goodnight, Gideon. This meeting is over.”
His expression darkened and his grip on me tightened for a moment before he let me go.
“Until next time.”
I opened the door and walked out of his suite without looking back, feeling completely and totally shaken.
I was in deep shit.
Let me repeat that: Deep. Shit.
What the hell had just happened? I’d been so in control when I got there. Totally. Then he was dealing with the pain, we talked about what a psychopath he was for a while, his story had made me think he might have a redemptive bone in his body buried down somewhere deep, I’d given him some of my blood… and then I’d kissed him.
Or, rather, he’d kissed me.
Semantics. Kissing had occurred.
I hated him. I did.
Or, at least, I tried to convince myself of that.
Was this a version of Stockholm Syndrome? When the kidnapped victim start to
empathize with her captor? Did I really believe that he wanted to change his evil ways after all these years?
I had to go see a shrink. Possibly check myself into a rubber room. The sooner the better.
At least I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I couldn’t possibly be falling in love with him. After all, I was already in love with Thierry.
What I felt for Gideon was… something else. Something darker and much scarier. Only I had no idea what to call it.
I walked down Bloor Street and tried not to think about anything. Thinking hurt.
Currently, a lot.
Even without thinking, I could sense that someone was following me. And if I could sense it, that meant it was my trusty, masked bodyguard whom my spidey senses alerted me to whenever he was within twenty paces.
Maybe since he was super old he cast off some über-master vampire vibes. Thierry and I sometimes had a connection like that. I didn’t use it very often because keeping tabs on his whereabouts was also known as “crazy girlfriend behavior.” But if I really needed to know where he was I could reach out—using a ton of concentration—and pinpoint his location like an internal GPS tracker. At the moment, however, I didn’t have a lot of concentration to spare.
I stopped walking, turned around, but couldn’t see him. I let out a shuddery breath. I still felt unsteady after seeing Gideon. He hadn’t taken very much blood at all, but I still felt a bit weak.
It had nothing to do with the blood.
Lurky McLurkalot was starting to annoy me. The least he could do was make his presence known. Say “hi” or something. I’d settle for a polite nod in my general direction.
“I want to talk to you,” I said, loud enough so the Red Devil could hear me. A woman gave me a strange look as she passed by. “Not you. Carry on.”
What was I going to say to him? I didn’t really know. But I did know I wanted some answers. If Thierry refused to tell me anything about the reclusive vampire vigilante, then maybe the masked man in question would be a little more forthcoming about himself.
I kept walking till I got to the next block. There was an Italian restaurant on the corner with a half-empty parking lot. I walked around to the back of it and waited, leaning heavily against the exterior wall. It didn’t take long before a dark shadow loomed and the
Red Devil appeared. He didn’t move closer to me, instead staying about twelve feet away and out of the light of the security lamp I stood under. His face was shadowed and I could see little more than the mask, dark hair, and a long dark coat.
He studied me silently.
“Who are you?” I asked simply.
“Someone who wants to help.” He spoke in a harsh whisper I had to strain to hear.
I eyed him skeptically. “Where have you been for a hundred years?”
“Around.”
So incredibly insightful. I was overwhelmed by information. “Great answer. Really.”
He was quiet for another moment. “I know you went to see Gideon again. I waited outside the hotel for you.”
“Lurking in the shadows.”
“It’s what I do.”
“Quinn told me what you plan to do. Kill Gideon.”
His lips thinned. “Do you take issue with that decision?”
My bottom lip quivered. “Maybe I’m just not comfortable with the idea of murder.”
“You seem upset.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. Did something bad happen?”
“Other than hanging out behind a restaurant with a guy in a mask who won’t answer any of my questions?”
“What happened with Gideon?” His voice was tense. “Did he hurt you?”
“You know, it’s funny. He’s never laid a finger on me. Well, not in the way you might think.”
“What does that mean?”
“He wanted some of my blood tonight. Thought it would ease his pain. I gave it to him.”
His eyes narrowed. “And did it work?”
“Surprisingly, yes.”
“And then what did he do? Threaten you further? Remind you of his power over you right now?”
“Not so much.” I shrugged. “Then, if you really want to know, he kissed me.”
“He did what?”
The sharp, louder reply took me by surprise, and I glanced at the man who stood in the shadows. I had no idea why I was sharing all this with him. Call it cheap therapy. “What can I say? I guess I’m irresistible when I’m bleeding.”
He swore under his breath. “Perhaps I’ll kill him right now.”
I looked at him strangely. “What do you care what happened? He didn’t hurt me.”
“You…” He cut off whatever he was about to say. “It sounds as if you’re defending his actions. I thought that you were distraught over what happened, but now I’m sensing that you might not mind such attention.”
“You’re sensing that, are you?” I said dryly.
“Maybe you enjoyed it.”
I glared at him. “Maybe I did. And maybe that’s why I’m upset.”
“Interesting.” The word was very cold.
“Glad you think so.”
“I have heard that you like receiving the romantic attentions of handsome vampire hunters.”
My face burned at that. “You heard that, did you? Gee, I wonder where?”
“To me, that seems a bit… what is the word?”
“Stupid?” I finished for him. “I believe you called me that the other night in the alley. You were right then and you’re probably very right now.”
His lips curved. “I think I prefer the term ‘naïve.’ ”
“Thank you for your opinion.”
His gaze fixed on me so intently that I felt scorched by it. “Do you think Gideon is another hunter you can help redeem?”
“You never know.”
He shook his head. “As I said… naïve. And entirely self-absorbed. You have a hard time seeing this situation objectively.”
I glared at this mask-wearing man, my anxiety from before now nicely replaced by a swell of anger. “For your information, Gideon actually wants to kill you, now that you’ve popped up again after a century of being who-knows-where. He wants me to lead him to you in return for a grimoire that will help break my curse. But I haven’t told him anything about you.”
“You don’t know anything about me other than the fact I’m here to protect someone who seems to actively shun any potential protection.”
I deflated a bit at that. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help, really. If it wasn’t for you, I would have hurt that fledgling the other night in the alley—maybe even killed her.”
“Nothing happened.”
“Only thanks to you.” I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling exposed by my multitude of weaknesses and mistakes. It was time for me to head back home to George’s and chalk this day up as another craptastic one. I touched my gold chain. “I’m worried I’m not going to find a way to get rid of my curse. And one day I’ll lose control and end up really hurting someone if there’s no one there to stop me. And now Gideon seems to hold my only answer.”
He was silent for a moment. “There are ways to find the strength to fight back against the thirst.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You sound like you speak from personal experience.”
He turned away and I thought that was it, he’d just vanish into the darkness. But he stopped. “I believe there is great strength inside you, Sarah. You simply need to believe that as well.”
There was something about the way he said my name—something in the quiet rasp of his voice that suddenly struck an odd sense of familiarity inside of me.
I moved toward him just as he was about to walk away and grabbed his arm. “Hey, wait a minute—”
He turned slightly. For a split second I could see his face up close, aside from the mask.
His mouth, his chin and jaw line, and his eyes. I was now close enough to also catch the briefest scent of his spicy and strangely familiar c
ologne.
“Go home,” he said roughly, and then he quickly walked away from me.
I’d been walking around in a fog with blinders on the other two times I’d seen him. Even tonight I’d been too preoccupied by what had happened with Gideon to really register anything specific. He’d tried to stay just out of sight. He’d tried to disguise his voice around me.
I figured that was just part of the mysterious Red Devil deal. But it wasn’t. Not completely. He was doing it so I wouldn’t figure out who he really was.
But now I knew. The truth of who the Red Devil actually was suddenly hit me in the face like a tidal wave.
It was Thierry.
Chapter 8
H oly mother of crap.
Thierry was the Red Devil.
In a daze, I made my way back to George’s, let myself in, and shakily fired up the Internet.
I had an unreliable old laptop Amy had lent me and I must admit that the wireless connection was borrowed from the neighbors—“stolen” is such an unpleasant term, isn’t it?—but it worked and I had to do some research. Every minute I was away from the Red
Devil I questioned what I’d seen. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I’d dropped some LSD and not realized it. Maybe I was tired, or projecting… or completely insane. I had been feeling more than my share of loopy after seeing Gideon, after all.
There had to be a more logical explanation, because on what planet did it make sense that he was Thierry? Why wouldn’t he have ever said anything to me?
Other than his tendency toward keeping everything in his life a secret, that is.
I mean, this was major.
The thing about Thierry that made it hard to believe was that although he was wonderful and sexy and I was crazy about him, he’d never struck me as a vigilante type. At all. He preferred to avoid situations of conflict. In fact, he’d always insisted that it was safer to stay hidden than risk meeting the wrong end of a wooden stake. Everyone who knew him, or knew of him, was aware that this was his preferred method of dealing with intense situations. However, he would fight if he had to, and I knew that he could kick some major ass. I’d seen him throw a man right across a room in a fight. Actually, that man had been Quinn, but that was another story.