by Tamsin Baker
His brows dipped in a perfect V, playing innocent when he had to know what party.
“The party that sparked this dinner in the first place.”
“Ahh, that party.” Perfect lips slid into a perfect grin.
Something in me wanted to slap the perfection from his face. I dropped my fisted palm in my lap and shot him a tight smile. “I’ve planned the company’s Christmas party for the past three years and never once had a complaint. What’s this fabulous idea that’ll undo all the work I’ve done so far?”
More grinning. My fist tightened. “A microbe masquerade ball.”
Chapter 24
Gideon
She’d accepted the news of my vampirism better than she’d accepted my suggestion for the party. Accept being a very loose, very relative term.
Who knew my soulmate was a control freak?
Soulmate.
The word had a warm, coffee-rich ring, where before it had worn uncertainty.
It felt good to finally be open with Tiff. To share my life in a way I hadn’t for centuries. That there were still parts of me I couldn’t share—my mission for the coven just one biggie—was a niggle in my gut I’d just have to bear. In a week it would be over and incidental. And if things went well, I’d be mortal and able to leave all the deceptions and untruths behind.
“I think we’re done here.” She pushed back her glass and clutched her purse in both hands. “I’ll redesign the invites and you can reorder the canapes and cocktails. The venue won’t change, but we’ll need to rethink the decorations.”
Yep, control freak.
I kinda liked it. Tiff, all busy and business-like. All buttoned up and staid, just waiting for me to unbutton and rumple her into ecstasy. My balls tightened with the thought.
Much as I stood more chance of flying and brandishing a red cape, it didn’t hurt for a vamp to try. “Why don’t we discuss the decorations tomorrow? Over dinner?”
“Emails will work fine.”
“But they’re not half as much fun.”
She sighed. “I need time to process this, Gideon. Don’t rush me.”
I looked at her then. Really looked. Her skin lacked its usual color, deep lines carving beneath her eyes and across her brow.
I was a selfish bastard.
In my defense, I’d waded through centuries to find her and now that she’d appeared, I wanted everything The Prophesy promised—mortal of body, seed sown of the soul and purity of line continued. And I wanted it yesterday.
I wanted a normalcy so simple, so white-picket-fence and all, to wipe the past three-hundred years of hell from my memory. And Tiff was the one to do it.
If she needed time, I had no choice but to give it.
“You’re right.” I stood, taking her jacket from the back of her chair and holding it open for her. “I’ll take you home.”
She slipped her arms in, keeping her distance, pulling away to avoid my touch. I won’t pretend it didn’t cut.
“I can walk.”
“I know. I’ve seen you do it.” I shot her a wry grin. “But it’s late and dark and the streets aren’t safe. Let me do this for you.”
First instincts would have seen her refuse. Then she glanced out the window and saw what I saw—wind lashing about the mass of trees lining Ol’ Man River.
She nodded, and inwardly I sighed.
My motive was two-fold—I’d see her safely home, but first I’d enjoy the wrap of her body around mine. Just one advantage of owning a motorcycle, of which there were many.
Visions of her decadent body splayed across the leather and chrome had me hard immediately.
That encounter wouldn’t be our last. It couldn’t be. Not with the promise of mortality within reach. Not while Tiff held my future—our combined, transformed future—in the palm of her tightly clenched hand.
*
The moment we arrived at her apartment building, she pulled away and all but leapt off the bike. She shed her helmet and held it out for me to take. “Thanks.”
I kicked back the stand and dismounted, disposing of both helmets. “I’ll walk you up.”
“No need.”
“I know. But I’ll do it anyway.” I touched her shoulder, just a touch, to stop her walking away. “I don’t remember much about my mother, but I remember enough to know she’d have a fit if I didn’t see a lady to her door.”
She shrugged free of my hand, but she didn’t leave. “What was she like?”
The hollow around my heart wrenched. My memories of back then were hazy—warm happiness followed by years of loneliness and regrets. “I don’t remember much. She smiled often. Made Dad and me laugh a lot. We had fun together.”
She looked to the passing cars in the distance, her gaze drawn inward. “My mother rarely smiled.”
I tried to remain calm. Tried to act as if her finally sharing a part of her past wasn’t the biggest event since Shin-Soo Choo joined the Texas Rangers. “Even now?”
She pulled back her gaze. “Especially now. She’s dead.” She clamped her lips then, as if the words had escaped despite her need to keep them hidden.
I took her icy hand in mine and squeezed. My cold skin may not warm her, but I could only hope the gesture would. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded. A sharp acknowledgement, nothing more, and tugged her hand free, shoving both into her jacket pockets.
I let my hand drop. “When did she die?”
“I was fifteen.” She swallowed. Took a deep breath. “What about your mom?”
Memory evoked a pair of blue-grey eyes and a soft, lilting voice. Imagination filled in the rest. “She lived to be forty-nine. A good age back in the 1700s.” My lips twisted. “I hate to think that my disappearance wiped the smile forever from her face.”
“You just disappeared?”
“What other choice did I have?” I scrubbed my neck. If only I could scrub out the kinks, every last, regretful one. “Back then, immortality was labeled a sign of the devil. They’d have rammed a stake through my heart then burned my body until there was nothing left.” I shuddered, the reality of that death not solely relegated to the past if I couldn’t fulfil The Prophesy and avert The Change. “Think about the number of missing persons who are never found. Where do you think they go?”
“You mean they’re all vampires?”
“Not all, but it wouldn’t be far off ninety-nine percent.”
She was slowly coming to grips with my world. It wasn’t pretty. Her mind had to be spinning, a crazy “free me from this roller coaster” spinning.
Her palm dropped to my chest, to my cold, unbeating heart. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Yeah. Me too. But if it hadn’t, we would never have met. That’s a definite upside for me.” I covered her hand with mine, pushing my lips into a smile. “Some folks spend their entire lives searching for their soulmate, seeking to fulfil their destiny, only to fail because the other half of their soul belongs to a different time. We’re lucky. We span centuries, yet our search is over.”
Her expression said she didn’t share my sentiments. How could she, when she’d been bombarded with information I’d had ten lifetimes to process?
She needed time.
She shivered.
And she needed out of the cold.
“Let’s get you inside. It’s freezing out here.”
She stared at me, questioning. “Is it?”
“For you, yes.”
“But not for you.”
A familiar boulder weighted my chest. “How can you feel cold when your blood runs like the dead?”
“I can’t imagine what that must be like.”
“And I hope you never have to.” My palm dropped to her back, guiding her towards the winding path leading to the complex’s front door. She walked, and I stayed at her side, my palm still at her back.
The night swallowed the grounds, the street lamps that would have lit our way long since smashed. It wasn’t uncommon in this part of town. Regardless of the dark, my
vamp vision could see what the human eye missed.
A shadow, flesh and bones, pushed away from a large maple to our right.
I pulled Tiff behind me and stepped forwards. I sensed her stiffen, her tremble. I smelled her fear.
“Richard?”
She knew the shadow?
“Tiffany?” The fuckwit mimicked her strangled whisper.
I took another step forward. “What do you want?”
“To talk to an old friend.”
Tiffany shuddered.
I pushed up taller, flexing my muscles. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
He sidestepped. “You got this joker speaking for you? Does he sit and play dead as well?”
I stalked forwards. Her hand grasped my elbow, trembling but firm. She shook her head, and much as I hated it, I held back.
“What do you want, Richard?”
“Can’t I stop by and see how you’re doing?”
“Washington is far from a stopping by scenario, so, no.” She inhaled. “We’re over. We’ve been over for three years now. You need to stop stopping by.”
“It’s a free world.”
“So, go explore it. Move on. Find someone who wants you in her life.”
“You’ve grown balls since I last saw you. Are they his?” The prick tipped his head in my direction. I tensed, but Tiff’s grip tightened so I stayed put.
“That’s none of your business.”
“It is if it interferes with your job.”
“I don’t work for you.”
“Think again, sweet pea.” His nostrils flared, like a bull seconds before a charge. “You’ll hear the announcement soon enough, but let me share the highlights. The Pax Group is about to take over Hagen Pharmaceuticals. That means you and me, together again.” The prick sneered. He had big, fucking balls, all right, and I wanted to rip them from his body and feed them piecemeal to the gators.
I had no idea what this douche meant to Tiff, or what history they shared. I did know that her grip was so tight, her nails dug deep into my skin.
The time for holding back had long past. I stalked towards the dumbass and flexed my fists. “Fuck off before I do something you’ll regret.”
“Hey, man, no need to get your nuts in a knot. I’m gone.” He rolled his hand through the air. “See you round the office real soon, sweet pea.”
He sauntered off, a bull who’d bested the matador and knew it.
“What the hell was that about?”
Now the prick was gone, she pulled her hand back. “Nothing.”
“No bullshit, Tiff. That asshole had an agenda, and it was intimidation. What I want to know is why.”
She drew in a breath, closed her eyes for just one second, then focused on my left ear. “We went out, he hit me one too many times and now we’re done. Only Richard doesn’t do no.” Her shoulders sagged, as if hit once again. “And now he’s part of Hagen’s, I need a new job.”
*
The hours dragged.
I filled them with work and mindlessness and man-bonding with Mannie. Hollow, flavorless moments unfolding before me like a recipe minus ingredients. Nothing enriched the time like Tiff. Her wit. Her smile. Even her disapproval. I missed them all.
I even succumbed to Netflix. Endless, mind-numbing episodes with no real purpose other than to fill hours waiting for a decision. For an end to my uncertainty.
My mind circled then recycled our last meeting. How she’d opened up about her mother. How Richard’s actions had provided insight into her disdain for men.
So much made sense now. I understood her need to remain distant and hold her emotions in check. Her need for control. It was the reason I’d respected her wishes and taken a step back. The reason I watched the roll of a TV series now when I hadn’t a clue what was happening.
Mindless.
A loud knock echoed from the vicinity of my front door. Strange, when I had a doorbell in perfect working order.
The security camera was no use. Whoever stood on my doorstep remained hunched beneath an oversized black coat and hood.
No matter who had knocked, they offered a break from my monotony.
The hall was as warm as the rest of the duplex, the thermostat set to maximum in the hopes I’d actually feel the heat. Centuries had passed since I’d felt anything but cold. Now, I wanted to feel more.
Perhaps my turn of mind was due to Tiff and the end of my uncertainty being so close for the first time.
Or maybe I’d just had enough.
It didn’t matter, I was caught in limbo, buffeting between relief that my wait was nearly over and caution, because hell, I’d been cocky and convinced once before, and that had left me pants down before the entire coven.
I wouldn’t follow that same blinkered path again.
I released the catch then opened the door.
The figure hunched against the cold—more rain, courtesy of the wettest December in thirty-plus years—but without question, I recognized her.
Blonde curls formed ringlets, dripping rain onto her bright red galoshes. She pushed back the hood and looked up. Her eyes were wide and the bluest of opals. Not the lackluster brand of gem, but the kind that made me think of wild oceans and tropical tempests.
She shivered and I grabbed her elbow, pulling her out of the cold.
“Damn, Tiff. You’re frozen.”
“It wasn’t raining when I started out.” Her teeth chattered.
“Let’s get you out of your clothes and warmed up.” I reached for her sopping jacket but she pulled back, halting me with a raise of her hand.
I froze. Her trembling lips were pale, as pale her skin, but for the blood red slashing her cheeks. I watched as the color slowly spread across her face.
She blinked, then straightened her until now hunched spine. “I’ll do it.”
Chapter 25
Tiffany
Frost had all but claimed my brain. Much as Gideon’s hall was warm, the cold, hard reality of what I was about to do set like ice in my blood.
I was an idiot, but how could I condemn him to an eternity of hell when there was something I could do to save him? And really, was it that much of a sacrifice? Wouldn’t I experience another mind-blowing orgasm along the way?
Another vision.
Maybe that’s what this madness was all about. The vision. The promise of something more. Maybe more was something I wanted after all.
A future filled with the smiles my mother had missed. A future without Richard.
Yesterday, I’d stood up to Richard in a way I never had in the past. I’d felt safe from his fists. Gideon’s presence had done that.
“You’ll do what?” He stood there, large, proud, with more strength than Richard held in a toenail, let alone a toe. Yet I didn’t feel half the fear I felt when in the company of my ex.
“I’ll do it. I’ll help make you mortal.”
Hope filled his expression, much as he tried to hold it back. From one hopeless hopeful to another, I could spot the need a mile away.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. Because if I spoke, I wasn’t sure what would come out.
“Is it weird for me to say thank you?”
“No more weird than this whole situation.” I shivered. Cold, inside and out. “So, what do we do now?”
He reached out, touched my arms, rubbed his hands up and down. “We get you warm.”
I followed him into the kitchen, shedding my jacket.
He glanced back. “Your usual?”
I nodded. Confounded. Confused. The more I waited, the more the nerves attacked. There were other, more active ways of warming up.
Why was Gideon delaying? The sooner he changed, the better, right? So, why wasn’t he pushing to do . . . the thing? Whatever it was that we had to do to save him.
I don’t know what I’d imagined when I set out. Ravaging, perhaps. Him jumping my bones, and me being quite open to the fact. The thought heated places that he’d heated so thoroughly, so del
iciously, was it only seven nights ago?
He slid a mug across the counter and I wrapped its warmth between my palms. The liquid slipped between my lips, burning a bitter, roasted path down my throat.
“Better?”
“Yeah.” One more gulp, then I released the mug. My shaky fingers slipped first one shirt button free, then the next. “How do we do this?”
With a grin, he moved forward and covered my hands. “Slowly.” He redid the buttons, and his barely-there touch teased my nipples into taut, hungry buds. My breasts grew heavy, my skin hot and hungry.
His nostrils flared. Could he smell my need?
He stepped away, although the heat in his expression said he’d rather stay. “First, we get to know each other.”
“Why? I thought it was just sex.”
“No, it’s more than sex. It has to mean more. In the words of The Prophesy, ‘When love and lust collide, all you hold dear will unfold. Surrender heart, body and soul to bind as one till days of old.’ We’ll be bound—heart, body and soul—to each other. We’ll share our lives, share a bed. This doesn’t end with the ceremony, it begins.”
Fuck.
That was a lot of binding and sharing—more than I’d vowed ever to allow. Still, it wasn’t as if I believed in love and all that bullshit. I wasn’t saving myself for someone else—I didn’t want anyone. Didn’t need anyone.
So, completing this ceremony and tying myself to Gideon—what did it mean for me?
He formed a barrier to Richard—a very muscular, very mind-melting barrier—offering safety and security I hadn’t felt in three years. Truth be told, since before then, even. In addition, there was the added perk of his prowess in the bedroom. And on a bike. That was a big—BIG—plus.
There seemed more arguments for than against. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t pull the plug if things turned sour.
If I walked away, I had no idea what that meant for Gideon. Then again, if I walked, it’d be his doing, so he’d have to suffer the consequences. Not that he’d ever given me reason to believe he’d turn bad.
Then again, neither had Richard.
Fuck. Why the hell had fate led me to that bastard? My heart smacked against my ribs. He’d screwed me to hell and back, was still screwing me. I’d walked away from his lessons and used the experience as a measure of life’s trials, of men, of shit to never allow into my life again. The only power he wielded was the power I gave him.