by Joey W. Hill
“Yep,” Gideon agreed. “Means we can get on with our night.” He pulled on the jeans she’d brought him. That exercise, as well as shifting away from the counter, standing on his own, took an effort. Anwyn had to quell the impulse to move to his side and support him.
From the concern that creased Daegan’s brow, it was apparent the male vampire hadn’t been tuning into their conversation. “Why haven’t you given him blood?” he asked Anwyn, an edge to his voice.
“Because he insists on taking it from you.” She met his gaze. “Among other things.”
That changed Daegan’s focus. Anwyn was sure he was dipping into their minds, trying to figure out what was going on. It only took him a blink, and she saw myriad expressions cross his face, most of them hard to fathom. It would rouse his warrior’s instinct, but there were other considerations here. Ones that would have him holding his tongue, waiting to see how Gideon would play this.
Their servant turned away from them to slide open the drawer under the sink, a place neither of them would have been likely to look since Gideon usually handled dishes. A clank of metal, and he removed a pair of beaten steel cuffs from it, the cuffs connected by three chain links.
He let the cuffs dangle from one finger draped by the links. “Something Lyssa had in her private stock. They can stand up to some resistance. Like if you get hot and bothered and start pulling against them without thinking about it. A normal vampire can break them, but not as easily as the run-of-the-mill ones.”
Anwyn imagined it, those cuffs holding Daegan as he became intensely aroused. The flutter in her belly was acknowledged by the surge of anticipation in Gideon’s mind. He knew how to get her fully on board with this, teasing the Mistress in her with the possibilities.
His focus remained on Daegan, however. “It’s time, vampire. I won the bet. You going to be a pussy and renege?”
Daegan had become far more still. “You have to get the cuffs on me.”
“No, I don’t.” Gideon tilted his head toward Anwyn. “She’ll be doing it. You can stop her, but she’ll fight you, which means you’ll have to get a little rough, throw a few punches. A good right hook would probably take her down.”
Daegan’s eyes narrowed. “You know I would never strike Anwyn.”
“An issue he doesn’t have with me at all,” Gideon noted wryly, shooting a glance at Anwyn. “Hence why she’s handling the cuffs.”
She couldn’t help the twitch of her lips, but things were coiling up inside of her, watching, waiting. Gauging the tension in the room.
“Those won’t hold me.”
“No. Nothing short of a fucking Fort Knox vault would. They’re just a reminder. To help you honor the terms of the bet.” Gideon cocked his head, his midnight blue eyes showing fire. “Plus, having them on you so I can do what I want gets me hot and bothered.”
The tips of Daegan’s fangs showed. “How much harder will you be if you put them on me yourself, vampire hunter?”
“You’re in my head. You already know the answer to that.”
Daegan’s eyes had gone darker, the whites disappearing. Following instinct, Anwyn shifted so she was behind Gideon. As she pressed against his bare back, her hands whispered over his chest and caressed the triple teardrop third mark, drawing Daegan’s gaze to it while Gideon stood still under her touch. Her fingers dropped, sliding over the impressive musculature that layered Gideon’s upper torso and the harrowing reminder of his mortality, the still healing wound. But she kept going, teasing the ridges of his abdomen.
Daegan’s attention burned her knuckles when she molded her palm over Gideon’s hip bone, her thumb briefly hooking in his jeans pocket while her other fingers traced the denim crease between thigh and groin. Letting go of the pocket, she followed the curve of a testicle and etched out his hardening length for the vampire’s glittering gaze.
She slipped the button of his jeans, pushing beneath the hold of the denim to straighten his stiffening cock. Her body remained flush against his back, her mound rubbing against his ass.
When I asked if you’d have my back, I wasn’t meaning it quite so literally.
She let her lips curve against his shoulder blade, but she rose onto her toes enough to look over his shoulder and meet Daegan’s gaze. “He’s already like iron, thinking about having you at his mercy.”
Gideon lifted her questing hand and kissed it. It was different right now for the two of them as well. She was still his Mistress, but she was honoring the bet, not taking the lead, not making this any less than what it was supposed to be.
Daegan studied them. As Anwyn held her position against Gideon, she thought they both held their breath, two creatures bound as one as he deliberated.
With it being November, Daegan had been able to wear a light coat to cover his weaponry. He’d apparently removed those blades and firearms before he returned to Gideon and Anwyn in the kitchen, so that when he set aside the coat now they saw only the lean, muscled upper body in a fitted cotton shirt, tucked into belted jeans. With a long look at both of them, he pivoted. The move reminded her of when he practiced with his katana, the graceful flow of motion that was purposed for dispensing terminal justice in the Council’s name. Now he made the move for an entirely different reason, though the impact might be no less life changing for those within range of it.
When he had his back to them, he lifted his arms.
Anwyn could feel Gideon’s gaze tracking that arc of movement. His held breath, the sudden tension as Daegan laced his fingers…and put them behind his neck.
“Fuck,” Gideon muttered. His shock mirrored her own. She was sure Gideon had anticipated Daegan honoring the terms of the bet, because when it came down to it, he knew what kind of male the vampire was. And he’d even done some extensive planning for this, if the cuffs were a hint of what was to come. However, like her, he hadn’t given thought to the impact when they reached this vital fork in the road.
The moment when their alpha dog would permit himself to be leashed.
Part Two
Proving Anwyn’s warning, that every step of this would be a delicate balance, Daegan tilted his head so Gideon saw a hint of his devastating profile. “Put the cuffs on me yourself, vampire hunter. It’s your right.”
The reality of it was…well, Gideon had to take a calming breath. Ball was in his court, right? As he stood there looking at Daegan, he was aware of Anwyn’s quiet, thoughtful presence. She understood, didn’t she? What it felt like, knowing this gift was all his to unwrap, to taste, to torment. Yeah, he’d planned and plotted, worked at keeping his mind blank on it when Daegan was paying attention, but until this second, he hadn’t revealed the keenness of his hunger, even to himself.
How many times had he come into Daegan’s room to shoot the shit, talk cable programming, or analyze strategies against whoever Daegan’s upcoming target was? Even if Gideon wasn’t going along with him, they’d talk it out together. At first Gideon thought Daegan was just humoring him, but that was fine. He wouldn’t let pride stand in the way of making sure the vampire had all the benefit of his experience in creeping up on bad guys and taking them out.
Over time, from the give and take of their conversations, he’d realized that Daegan was listening, sometimes even altering his plans based on Gideon’s input. And didn’t that make him feel like a fucking grade school kid handed an A, for Christ’s sake?
But there were other things that happened in Daegan’s room that didn’t make him feel like a kid at all. When Daegan turned away to pick up a brush or slap on aftershave, Gideon’s gaze would linger on the broad shoulders—well, broader than one would expect, given his lean frame—and drift down to study how his ass was defined by the shift of his body as Daegan tucked in a shirt, fastened his jeans. As provocative as that was, even the tilt of Daegan’s head as he listened to Gideon, often with that light smile playing around his serious mouth, was enough to make Gideon want to crowd him up against the wall, start a fight that would become physical fast in
a far different way.
Christ, he loved the guy like he was a girl doing the he-loves-me, he-loves-me-not thing with the flower, only there was nothing girly about this hunger. It was raw, the whole-wolf-pack-waiting-to-tear-into-a-fresh-kill, taste-the-heart-while-still-beating, kind of appetite. Though his feelings toward Anwyn were no less intense, there was a wholly different feel to it. Maybe because he and Daegan were both far more protective of her, their sexual instincts never brushed as close toward violence as they did when nothing stood between the two males. Anwyn acknowledged it at times like this, in the way she stood behind Gideon, leaving the field of battle clear.
Gideon wasn’t sure if he’d ever wanted something so much that had been held out of reach, but within touching distance, for so long. As the power of that thought filled him, Anwyn’s hand settled between his shoulder blades, her wicked long nails scraping his bare back.
He’s yours, Gideon. For tonight, he’s yours. Care for him as he cares for you. She slid her fingers over to Gideon’s arm, followed it down, and pressed the cuffs into his hand, the cold metal.
They weren’t something he’d used very often. When he hunted, capture wasn’t his first intent. As he clasped the bracelets, his glance strayed down to the branded cuff on his own wrist. It was the one that had the “D” initial on it.
Anwyn wasn’t done with him yet. Her other hand had slipped to his waist, over his hip bone, and her fingers slid into his jeans watch pocket, leaving the key to the cuffs there, but taking full advantage of the act to push deeper into the main pocket and tease his inner thigh, the crease against his testicles, before she withdrew, stepping back from him again.
He gave her a half-amused, half-aroused look she returned with a heated look of her own. Yeah, she was getting into this. It only added to the tension.
Moving away from her one step, two steps, he took up position directly behind Daegan. He was one of only two people Daegan trusted behind him. The first time he’d realized that, it had meant more to Gideon than he’d expected. Even if he had to take it with a grain of salt, since Daegan didn’t need his eyes to be fully cognizant of his surroundings. Hell, Daegan could fight blind and take out Obi-Wan and Yoda in one stroke.
You have yet to show me Star Wars.
You’re too much like Darth Vader. Don’t want you getting ideas about having your own theme music and a black cape. You already dress in black more often than Johnny Cash.
“I did agree to a blue shirt,” the vampire said. “The one Anwyn bought for me. As well as this charcoal gray one.”
“You’re a regular fashion rainbow. And I have news for you. Charcoal gray is just another version of black.”
“This from the male who shivers in T-shirts in the middle of winter because he refuses to wear anything else.”
It was peculiar to have an exchange this way, Daegan facing forward, hands still clasped at the base of his skull, Gideon right behind him, the cool cuffs biting into his hand because he was holding them way too tight.
He’d tell the vampire to shut up, but even in this scenario, there were things he didn’t push at Daegan about. Well, not as much. Whether he admitted it or not, there was a certain level of deference and respect he gave him. His Master.
Instead, he closed his hand over Daegan’s right wrist and locked the bracelet around it. The click was loud in the silence. He brought the one arm down, then the other to secure the left so Daegan’s knuckles rested against his superior ass. Gideon closed his hand over the chain connecting the cuffs, fingertips brushing the outside of Daegan’s thumbs. And damn if the vampire didn’t move one of them so it briefly curled over Gideon’s knuckles. Daegan might be the cuffed one, but Gideon knew the male’s touch could make him helpless. If Daegan commanded him to stay in place until he reversed their positions, Gideon the cuffed one, Daegan the one fully in control…he would do it. Christ, who was he kidding here?
Now who’s the pussy thinking about reneging? Daegan thought at him.
Gideon’s head came up sharply. “Too bad there’s no way to gag your mind,” he retorted. But it helped him pull it together. Putting his hand on the vampire’s back, he gave him a nudge. “I want you in the back room.”
The cottage’s back room was like one of Club Atlantis’s well-equipped public playrooms, only the craftsmanship of Lyssa’s equipment reflected private ownership use. It was custom work and designed to accommodate the strength of third mark servants. As they moved into the chamber, Gideon inhaled the scent of a lot of glossy wood and well-oiled devices. All the metal pieces put off a soft gleam, like prepared blades. Being that it was a vampire’s playroom, there were actually a few of those mounted on a board flanked by velvet curtains that could be dropped to conceal them for aesthetic effect. Or drawn back, as now, for titillating response.
The ceiling had spaced horizontal beams sturdy enough to grace the belly of a galleon. Even if a coastal hurricane took down the rest of the house, this room would still stand. Wouldn’t that be great footage for a catastrophe-loving film crew? He had a flash from the movie Twister, the two main characters running from a tornado and taking temporary refuge in a barn which they discovered had all sorts of scythes and wicked, sharp-bladed farm implements. Bill Paxton declaring “I don’t think so” and Helen Hunt wailing “Who are these people?!”
He heard the chuckle in his mind from Anwyn, and imagined innocent civilians stumbling on Lyssa’s torture chamber. They’d probably have a similar reaction, tornado or no tornado. But it was all in the eye of the beholder. The three of them looked at a room like this and saw something most people didn’t. And tonight, Gideon saw it from the other side of the coin, the Dom’s view.
The beams were polished, the multiple embedded eye bolts and hooks providing a wealth of possibilities to anyone with the desire to suspend someone like a fly in a web. It wasn’t his intent tonight, but the set up suited his purposes. He stopped Daegan beneath one such beam.
Gideon knew where he wanted to go, what he wanted to do, what he planned to do, but he kept his mind away from all of that with the discipline that came from diligent practice. Daegan and Anwyn had both taught him certain types of anxiety, caused by the unknown, could make the experience even more intense.
You want me out of your mind, vampire hunter?
His kneejerk reaction to the question was such a strong negative, it translated to a tightened fist over his hold on the chain between the cuffs, as well as another wave of that lightheadedness. Fuck, he still hadn’t fed. Why was it so hard to say exactly what he wanted with Daegan? Or Anwyn.
You are a creature of feeling, love. Not words. You feel so much, words are a foreign language to you. Anwyn had taken a position leaning against the wall, hands folded behind her hips as she watched them, blue-green eyes glittering in the dim light thrown by the wall sconces. You want him out of your mind for the next little while. Not out of your heart and soul.
He’d have no luck getting me out of there anyway.
Hearing that touch of arrogance in Daegan’s response helped. Gideon ignored the fact he might have done it deliberately. Best not to dwell on how well they both knew him. At one time he would have called it manipulation and thought of it in a negative way. But now he knew it wasn’t like that. Any more than a parent telling a kid he’d always be there for him, even if in reality it didn’t always work out that way.
He made himself let Daegan go, shifting in front of him so he could meet him eye to eye. “Yeah. What she said. Get out of my head. Don’t want you spoiling the surprise.”
“I’m not overly fond of surprises,” Daegan said.
“I’ll file that under who gives a shit.” Gideon glanced over his shoulder at Anwyn. “I’d like you to do the same. You’ll get more out of it if there’s a surprise factor as well.”
At her arched brow, he shrugged. I know you’ve looked forward to this, Mistress. You’re already wet. We can both smell it.
Her eyes became darker, like a deeper level of the ocean
, reflecting all the depths within her. She inclined her head, but Gideon noted the way her gaze strayed past him to hold Daegan’s. Then she broke that contact. Reaching up, she let down her thick waves of sable-colored hair, tossing it back on her shoulders as she slid out of her little short coat-wrap thing. It left her in her spaghetti strap halter and her snug, stressed jeans. Hot as hell as always, particularly since that thin tank didn’t do anything to disguise the points of her nipples, pressed to the fabric.
He didn’t know what that look between the vampires was about, but he was distracted by Daegan’s withdrawal from his mind. Daegan could come and go there unnoticed, but he made a point of letting Gideon feel it now. Like someone leaving the room, but staying available on the other side of the door. Gideon figured that proximity must be the in your heart and soul part Anwyn had mentioned. Gideon couldn’t deny he wanted Daegan there, always, and fortunately no one was asking him to acknowledge or deny it. Anwyn’s withdrawal was more noticeable, though she’d gotten better at the stealth mode when she really focused.
Satisfied they weren’t tracking his thoughts, Gideon moved behind Daegan, unlocked the cuffs. “Stay where you are.”
Going to the supply cabinet, he withdrew a couple coils of half-inch nylon line. The rope was rough enough to hold a knot, but still silky enough to feel good against the skin. That had mattered. It was hard to explain why, but he’d noticed his vampires had the same compulsion. They weren’t above using considerable levels of pain to tear away his control and leave only sensation, pleasure far above what he thought it possible for him to experience. But though they might be beating the hell out of him, they made sure the ways they bound him weren’t pressing into bone or stressing his joints, despite the formidable tolerance he had as a third mark. They gave him only the right kinds of agony.
He wasn’t sure he had any desire to hurt Daegan tonight, but they’d taught him lines could get blurred, lust crossing into bloodlust as easy as following the laws of gravity.