Gideon

by Jacquelyn Frank

  There was no describing the mortification that followed after he had been caught attempting to break that most sacred of all their laws. The only bearable recourse was to lock himself into deep isolation, exiling himself from everyone and everything, which he had done for the last eight years.

  Gideon had reemerged, ironically enough, last Samhain, when Legna had put out a call to him, dragging him to her side with a thought. This was so that he could aid a critically wounded Jacob, the same Demon Enforcer who had punished him, and rightfully so. Gideon had thought that, if he could perform normally and with control amongst his people as he had during that recent volatile time, then his bout with the madness must be over. He had thought it safe to return to mainstream Demon life, his internal struggle overcome, defeated.

  How wrong he had been.

  He now knew that he had not learned how to resist Legna’s allure after all. He never would. Not so long as Magdelegna had those luring eyes and the will of a brilliant, cunning huntress that flared behind them.

  Gideon looked directly into her avaricious gaze, feeling the intent of it on a primitive level, the part of him that had been bred into his instincts at the beginning of time when the males of his kind had first come into being. Like males of many species, his task was to attract the female, but hers was to choose him if and only if he suited her above all others. It was then that he realized the scan had subconsciously taken on the ritualistic form of a mating dance, triggering action and reaction in them both in ways they had never expected.

  She tilted her head slowly as his quicksilver eyes locked onto her face, her hair sweeping across her back and shoulders, curling over her hip and thigh like a living appendage. She reached for the hand he still held over her lower abdomen, pulling it away from her body and releasing it, a low, challenging sound erupting from her throat. Her lips twisted into an erotic smile, her tongue slipping out to wet them slowly as she stepped unhurriedly to her right. The movement was seductive poetry, rippling up along her supple form like a beckoning wave.

  “You did this,” she accused softly.

  Gideon realized she was correct, to an extent. They had both been undeniably attracted to each other for a very long time, their minds and attitudes and pride the obstacles that had prevented them from exploring it. But when he had entered her healthy body with his power, he had unwittingly set a chain of events in motion, bypassing the mental barriers they had erected against one another, fusing them instead on a purely biological level. Then she had sent her power into him, completing the cycle, locking them one to another in an irresistible loop.

  “I may have begun it, but you perpetuated it, Magdelegna,” he told her, watching her closely as she moved one step, then another, slowly beginning to circle around him. Gideon held very still, a difficult thing to do considering his entire being was thrumming with awareness and arousal. Still, he never took his eyes off her.

  She seemed to be contemplating his words, much as her eyes were contemplating his body. Gideon had never known such a primitive sensation in all his life. The power of it overcast any memory of sexual stimulation he’d ever felt in all his years.

  She was remarkable.

  She was a thing of primal beauty.

  Legna moved closer to the male standing in the middle of her room, so aware of every nerve in her highly stimulated body that she wondered why she wasn’t screaming from the overload. She was still so connected to Gideon both mentally and through their joined power that his realizations, feelings, and awareness had become a part of her. She knew what was happening to them, but she was not afraid of it. She thrummed with his ancient power, feeling it soaking into her like a high-amplitude electrical shock that was locked in a continuous feedback loop. It was divine. It was deadly.

  She did not care, because she knew without a doubt that he was as much under her spell as she was under his. They each had a naturally dominant nature. He was familiar with his, and she was just discovering hers.

  She smiled, her entire face slipping into an image of beautiful sin.

  “You spurned me,” she reminded him, moving close enough to him to touch his biceps, the muscle beneath the smooth silk of his shirt jumping tightly in response. Her fingertips slid up over his shoulder, changing from a ghostly touch to a bolder one as she crossed the broad width of his back and then followed the length of his spine. Her palm curved over his fit backside briefly before dropping away from the tension-tight musculature.

  “I know,” he said roughly, his eyes burning like starlight as he watched her come around to face him. “I was a fool. I was guilty of the arrogance you accused me of.”

  It satisfied her to hear that. The feeling was reflected in her expression as she drew up close to him so they were almost touching, breast to breast. He lowered his gaze to her mouth, the inviting shape of it making him thirsty for her taste. He remembered how exotic it was, remembered how it had flowed over his taste buds like refined honey. But she had made it very clear that she was dictating the moment, so he made no aggressive moves toward satisfying his desires.

  Legna felt his need and the way he held himself in check, waiting for her to dictate the path and pace. It pleased her, made her interest in him spike off any measurable scale. His aroused state was sharp, his scent blanketing her like the aroma of an exotic rainfall. She closed her eyes, drawing in a deep, slow breath, filling her lungs with him. Gideon groaned under his breath, feeling her counterarousal as it was projected into him. His hands curled into fists at his sides as he repressed the urge to seize her. She opened her eyes and he was shocked by the vivid silver they had become, an astounding reflection of his own. This he could not coherently explain. He was far too wrapped up in her dance of seduction to even want to try.

  Legna lifted her hands to his chest, slipping two fingers down the strip of crisscrossed laces that held his shirt closed, freeing them with so quick and light a touch, he didn’t realize her achievement until the moment both of her hands slid into the parted fabric, caressing the athletic contours of the muscles beneath, setting his skin on fire.

  “Magdelegna,” he whispered, “in all my life, I have never come close to any creature as beautiful as you are.”

  The compliment pleased her, her connection with him so firm that she knew he meant it. Gideon was a being of truth and fact, so long as it was not too close to his own faults for clarity. Now that he had admitted the truth to himself, he would see to it that she was fully aware of how he felt about this particular truth.

  “You managed to resist me all these years,” she mused.

  “It was hell on earth,” he insisted honestly.

  She leaned close, whispering in his ear through the lightest clench of her teeth. “You hunted a human female rather than come to me.”

  “I was trying to protect you.” He drew a deep breath, her aroma that of wild spices and, once again, that wraithlike touch of musk. “The human female was nothing but an instance of insanity and unfortunate timing. I did not want to use you for my sexual gratification in a moment of disrespectful madness. Your value is so far above so callous an act, Legna. I would have shamed us both if I had used you in such a way.”

  “You shamed me the moment you called me a child, Gideon,” she told him sharply, her nails biting into his skin in reflection of the pain he had visited upon her.

  “The words of a coward,” he confessed hoarsely. “I was so afraid of the lack of control you inspired, Legna.”

  “And are you still afraid of what I inspire within you, Gideon?”

  “Yes,” he admitted, “I am.” He reached up, his knuckles brushing up and over the curve of her elegant cheek. “I never once suspected such intensity could exist. It is humbling to live for over a millennium and realize there is still something to be learned…that there are still things capable of surprising you.”

  She smiled contentedly at that, her eyes closing as she turned into the warmth and affection of his touch. Gideon ached from head to toe for her, the whol
e of his body and mind feeling as if he contained energy too vast to remain withheld for long.

  “Tell me now,” he murmured, “what you will choose. Are you going to leave me, Indirianna?” he asked, her most precious secret, her power name, falling over her like the touch of a thousand fingertips, reaching deep into the most hidden parts of her, forcing a gasp of stunned pleasure from her slender throat.

  “You know my name,” she said with wonder, shocked to find it did not terrify her as it should have.

  The common names the Demons knew one another by were merely call names, selected for convenience and as a nod of respect to those represented in the stories of the Christian Bible. Power names were something else entirely. Once someone knew a Demon’s power name, they could exert their influence over them. A Demon’s power name was the essential component in a Summoning. With it, a necromancer could force a captive Demon to do whatever he or she wanted it to do. This was why it was the most seriously protected secret each of them carried, none of them even daring to share it with their mate for fear they could come to harm for having the knowledge.

  “Say my name,” he countered, his hand wrapping around the irresistible length of her neck. This time it was he who whispered into her ear. “Say it.”

  “I do not know what it is,” she said, her breath rushing out of her in an astounding rhythm.

  “Yes, you do. I feel it. You only have to search for it inside of us.” “Us” was the appropriate term. It was almost impossible in that moment for them to discern whose thoughts belonged to whom.

  Gideon was the oldest of them all. There was no one older, so no one who had once known his power name could possibly be alive. His parents were dead. His Siddah were dead. If Legna discovered his name, the ramifications were inconceivably serious. He would be putting his very existence into her hands. He would be placing all of his power at her fingertips, gifting her with the potential for his absolute submission. Legna tried to step back from him, the shock of what he was offering her too much to bear. But he had made sure to have his hands on her and now kept her tight and close within them.

  “I cannot,” she whispered, her body beginning to shake. “No one should know that. No one. I am not strong enough to keep it, Gideon. Any male Mind Demon could take it from me!”

  “You are stronger than you think, Neliss.”

  “Not strong enough. Please, do not ask this of me.” She pushed at him, jerked herself backward, using the weight of her body to try and break free. He held her for a moment longer, looking deeply into her panic-stricken expression.

  “One day,” he said softly.

  He opened his hands and released her.

  She stumbled backward with her sudden freedom. One hand flew to her breastbone, pressing on it as if she were trying to physically restrain the laboring rise and fall of it. He moved closer to her one last time, tilting up her gaze with a coaxing fingertip beneath her chin.

  “You have made your choice, have you not?”

  She did not pretend to mistake his meaning. A large part of him still stirred within her awakened mind. She realized there was a name for what had just passed between them. He was Imprinted on her now, for all time, and she upon him. Though they had not come together in the most intimate physical sense, each had marked their territory upon the other. Legna could feel the changes within herself already. Her scent was changed, forever mingled with his. Her thoughts were filled with the images of his thoughts. His power was now becoming a part of hers.

  “Did I ever have a choice?” she asked, her entire body shaking with the shock of her realization.

  “Yes. You know very well that you did.”

  He was right. She did not want to admit it, but the choice had been hers to make, although nature and fate had made it an irresistible situation by rousing the feminine predator in her, bringing its very distinctive desires into the process.

  “I have chosen you, Gideon,” she murmured affirmatively. “And you have chosen me. But how is this possible?”

  “It is rare, Legna, I know. This happens between two Demons maybe once in every couple of centuries. But you can feel how real it is, can you not? It is inside you, just as it is inside me. For all time.”

  “But…Isabella and Jacob…Corrine and Kane. I thought that the prophecy said our mates were meant to be found in Druids.”

  “Perhaps it is because we were always meant to find our counterparts in the Druids, and not each other, that it is so rare between two Demons to Imprint. But there are no absolutes, Legna. Demons have fallen deeply in love even without the Imprinting for centuries, only the most profoundly lucky ones having this experience. You were meant for me. I see that now with astounding clarity. Why I did not understand it sooner is beyond me.”

  Gideon realized now that he also knew the source of her seemingly strange development. This exchange had actually begun nine years back. It was the parts of himself he had left behind within her, from that brief, torrid encounter, that had sped her maturity. He had made her stronger than she had been, her chemistry becoming flooded with the traits of his. That was why he had adapted to her autonomic functions during his scan. She had already begun to become a part of him, just as he had begun to become a part of her. They had been too lost in their clashing emotions to recognize it.

  “Gideon, I am afraid.”

  Her confession was not wholly unexpected. He had felt as much. It was why he had let her break away from him. It was why he was going to ignore the strangling demands of his body and allow her time to accept him outside of the bewitching physical need they shared.

  “I know you are,” he said softly, his soothing touch on her cheek helping her to focus, to calm her violent emotions.

  “You are so powerful, Gideon. You are the most revered Ancient in all of Demon society, past and present. How can I possibly…You were right,” she blurted out. “Compared to you, I am a child. What can I possibly offer to you that would have this Imprinting make sense?”

  “A powerful lineage. A fascinating and complex intelligence. Beauty of the ages.” He leaned closer, his mouth hovering a breath away from hers. “An Imprinting does not need to make sense. It is what it is.”

  Gideon moved that breath forward, capturing her mouth for what felt like the first time in forever. He was instantly intoxicated by the heat, the texture, and the immediate passion of her kiss. She accepted him so readily, so without reservation of the body even though her mind feared him. Desire for her began to burn through his soul all over again, if indeed it had ever truly stopped. He shared the sensation with her, swallowing her startled gasp when the feelings made their impact on her. His mouth took from hers wildly, his hands coming to cradle her head as she swayed forward into him, deeper and deeper into the hot clash of taste and tongues. She was pristine ambrosia, food for the gods, and it sent spears of want plunging down through his body. Control? It was hers and hers alone. He suddenly understood what it might be like for those on the receiving end of his power. What he was receiving from her was electric, powerful, and a healing of his self-imposed solitude that was like a beneficent balm.

  Legna felt soft impressions flowing into her thoughts. She felt Gideon’s realization of what his age and isolationism had cost him in loneliness. She ached for him, in both need and sympathy, as he allowed himself to bathe in her presence, her touch, and her kiss. She heard words of passion, as old as time itself, swirling through her mind. His voice, even in her mind, was so rich and so darkly seductive as it drifted through her thoughts, encouraging her, reassuring her, telling her in both graphic and poetic detail what her kiss was doing to him.

  When he finally broke away from her, they were both boasting eyes as magically bright as tinsel and gasping for an elusive, calming breath that would take far too long to come to either of them.

  But Gideon forced himself to step back from her, although he never broke their intense eye contact.

  “You have fears,” he rasped quietly. “You need time. I will g
ive it to you as best I can, Neliss. Nelissuna. My beautiful one.” The romantic endearment made Legna’s head spin with hundreds of emotions, both his and hers. “But,” he continued, his tone clearly reluctant, “Beltane approaches rapidly, and I will not be able to maintain any semblance of chivalry on that ancient night. No Imprinted pair can resist the lure of that powerful night of fertility and rebirth.”

  “I know. I remember the stories,” she whispered, her heart beating so fast that it ought to have exploded from her chest. “I am grateful for whatever time you give me, Gideon. I…I can feel the pain you are in at this moment from your…your denial.”

  “It is our combined pain, Legna, just as it is our combined need. I can only be thankful that it is not the month of Samhain. That would be an unbearable torture. It has been for nearly this entire decade.”

  She nodded, reaching up to touch his handsome face, suddenly needing to, now that she was free to do so. His eyes closed and he took in a deep breath to try and center himself. She was aware that even so simple a touch had a profound influence on him. It amazed her. It fascinated her.

  He opened his eyes then, white fire flaring hotly within them.

  “Send me home, Legna,” he commanded her, his voice hoarse with suppressed emotion.

  She moved her head in affirmation even as she leaned toward him to catch his mouth once more in a brief, territorial kiss, her teeth scoring his bottom lip as she broke away. It was an incidental wound, one he could heal in the blink of an eye. But he wouldn’t erase her mark on him, and they both knew it.

  Finally, she stepped back, closed her eyes, and concentrated on picturing his home in her thoughts. She had been in his parlor dozens of times as a guest, always accompanied by Noah. His library, his kitchen, even the grounds of the isolated estate were well known to her. She could have sent him to any of those locations.

  But as she began to focus, her mind’s eye was filled with the image of a dark, elegant room she had never seen before. Hand-carved ebony-paneled walls soared up into a vast ceiling, enormous windows of intricate stained glass spilled colored light over the entire room as if a multitude of rainbows had taken up residence. It all centered around an enormous bed, the coverlet’s color indistinguishable under the blanket of colorful dawn sunlight that streamed into the room. She could feel the sun’s warmth, ready and waiting to cocoon any weary occupant who thrived on sleeping in the heat of the muted daylight sun. It was a beautiful room, and she knew without a doubt that it was Gideon’s bedroom and that he had shared the image of it with her. If she sent him there, it would be the first time she had ever teleported someone to a place she had not first seen for herself. The ability to take images of places from others’ minds for teleporting purposes was an advanced Elder ability.