Vampire Trinity Part 6

"I remember what you said before you left. If she loses it in front of the Council, they'll treat her like a deformed animal. They'll order you to execute her."

"And I told you I would never permit that, even if I had to take down every one of them." Daegan had started flicking open the b.u.t.tons of his s.h.i.+rt, but now he stood, squaring off with Gideon. "You said from the very beginning you were not prepared to stand as her full servant like this, not among other vampires. Gideon, you would be in the very heart of it, for however long or short a time we are there. You will not survive that."

"Nice to know you care."

"It is not about you. Remember Morena Wilson?"

Gideon stiffened at the reminder of Trey's victim, the nurse killed behind the generator station. "You felt helpless when you learned of her death," Daegan continued. "That sense of helpessness was what sent you after Trey. You didn't think; you reacted."

"f.u.c.k you."

"What will it do to Anwyn, her stability, if you are killed?"

"I know the vampire world pretty well myself. Seeing me as her servant, sc.r.a.ping and fetching and kissing her shoes, will get them off, way better than my death. They might knock me around a bit, but I can handle a rough time. I'll do that, if that's what's needed. I understand how important it is that she's accepted. h.e.l.l, Lyssa had to survive in the forest for months as a fugitive when they found out about her. Anwyn wouldn't survive that, not with her seizures. She'd be easy pickings."

"No, she wouldn't. But it will never come to that." Daegan pulled off a knife holster holding three blades and tossed it on the dresser, a sign of frustration and impatience that Gideon took as encouragement.

"If we can get her through this," he persisted, "she's pretty much home free. Then I'll step aside. But I won't walk away when she may be facing an execution squad. Yeah, you'll say you can handle it, but you can't be everywhere at once. I think you know it's going to take both of us to do it."

"I don't deny an extra mind and pair of hands would be useful. But you're still overlooking how it will affect her."

"If you're worried about how Anwyn would handle them picking on me, we can work that out. It's a risk either way, but the odds are better with me there than without me." Gideon stepped forward. "She is is better. But, h.e.l.l, if I so much as go to the grocery store, that c.r.a.p in her mind comes out of the woodwork. I'm not in her mind now, but occasionally, I reach out, a formless feeling, no real invasiveness, just to keep them cowed down. It's something Brian showed me how to do. better. But, h.e.l.l, if I so much as go to the grocery store, that c.r.a.p in her mind comes out of the woodwork. I'm not in her mind now, but occasionally, I reach out, a formless feeling, no real invasiveness, just to keep them cowed down. It's something Brian showed me how to do.

"I'm not saying she's an invalid, not by any means. She can manage them on her own, but it's like having your head invaded by an army of vicious, asthmatic Darth Vaders. Yeah, you can be in her head, too, and you can probably keep them down, but are you going to fence with the Council over what happened with Barnabus, keep an eye on her, and handle the other hundred contingencies that could happen? Can you do it all?"

Daegan studied him for a long moment. Though the vampire hunter obviously meant every word, and he knew the man had the courage to back it up-h.e.l.l, he wasn't certain he'd ever met someone with such a foolish overabundance of courage, unless it was Anwyn-something was not quite right, something he couldn't quite place. It ticked uneasily in his gut. He'd seen a shadow of it in Gideon's face when he'd met them at the car, a sense of regret and odd . . . inevitability.

"Have you read the Harry Potter books, Gideon?"

Gideon was obviously braced for more arguments. At his startled look, Daegan gave him a tight smile. "Of course not. I expect you don't do much reading in your leisure time. In Goblet of Fire Goblet of Fire, Harry makes the very sportsmanlike decision to allow Cedric Diggory to grasp the Tri-Wizard Cup with him, the intention being that they would share the all-important tournament win. Harry's n.o.ble act results in him and Cedric being plunged into an evil place, and Cedric is killed. If Harry had been less n.o.ble, less fair-minded, Cedric would have lived. It is a very cla.s.sic example of how n.o.ble intentions often lead to tragic results." He straightened, squared off with the hunter. "I have no desire to be Harry Potter."

"I doubt you have any n.o.ble intentions about anything." Gideon snorted.

"Probably true. I am painfully aware, however, that sometimes Fate has to play out her hand. If things go according to plan-a simple validation procedure, I am raked over the coals for making unauthorized kills-yes, Anwyn would be better off having you there, helping her maintain stability. But there will be considerable danger to you. Great danger. On top of that, we will need to weigh how it could play out if things don't go according to plan."

"What matters is her." Gideon set his jaw. "It's going to be sticky either way. You'll have to prove to me it's in her better interests for me to stay behind, or kill me. I don't think you'll do either one."

"Don't tempt me. I might choose the easier of the two." Daegan sighed. "I'll think on it. We'll need to talk to Anwyn. We must all be in accord on this."

"Agreed. But not tonight. And I want to be the one to tell her I'm coming with her." Though Gideon gave the vampire an even look, underscoring it, he couldn't help s.h.i.+fting, feeling the regret anew. "I wasn't intending to tell her like that. About the annual kill."

"She was going to find out soon enough. Perhaps it's best that she has time to digest it, before we have to travel."

"Yeah, but she wanted tonight to be different. She was trying to focus on your homecoming and put the rest on the back burners. She's been working her a.s.s off these past few weeks, and she wanted to enjoy something." Gideon cleared his throat. "She really missed you."

Daegan swore softly, and returned to the dresser, emptying his pockets. The mirror's reflection showed the bed behind him, a reminder of many things shared there. It was good to be home, but it wasn't home until Anwyn truly welcomed him. He'd looked forward to that as well, but perhaps hadn't counted on it the way Anwyn had, knowing what lay between them.

"You told me once that you weren't used to relying on anyone, Gideon. I told you I was the same. I've never relied on anyone until her. It's easy enough for me to get what I want from a woman, but the night we met, she met my gaze, saw what I was, didn't flinch. Wasn't even really interested in that. She didn't have to give me anything, and I couldn't have made her give me anything. She's that kind of person. So when she did, it was her choice, her will, her desire. It made me trust her, believe in her and need her, in a way I've never needed anyone."

In Gideon's stillness, Daegan sensed his shock at the bald words, and wondered himself why he'd said them aloud. Spending long periods of time without any confidante, he thought he'd outgrown the need for one. But perhaps nothing had ever bothered him as much as this estrangement with the difficult woman he loved, what had happened to her, what he'd been powerless to stop.

He heard everything. It had amazed him to learn, early in his life, how little humans heard. Vampires heard more, but his hearing exceeded even theirs. If Anwyn let out a whispered sigh, even behind the closed door of her room, he could hear it. He heard the movement in the soundproofed playrooms above them. Knew there were insects and worms scratching and working their way along tunnels they'd made against the sunken foundation of this underground level.

So he heard Gideon move toward him. However, he was in for a surprise himself when the man's hand closed on his shoulder. He went still under the quick pa.s.sing of a thumb over his collarbone, a rough grip that denied the hint of a caress. Then Gideon pulled back abruptly, leaving it hard to decipher the brief gesture. However, for some reason, the touch loosened things up in Daegan's chest. "Go see her. I'll hang out somewhere. She's in her room."

"I've told you before not to give me orders, vampire hunter."

"You don't care whether I live or die, except that it concerns Anwyn. Well, same goes. She needs you. And since I'm in a nurturing mood, I'll mention you look like you need blood. If you need to go coax a pint out of someone, we should be fine. She had her injection right before we came to get you, and she's good for a couple of hours yet. Plus, I have the restraints, and with advance warning, she'll put them on and I can handle her from there."

"I'll keep that in mind, Mom."

Gideon made a suitable hand gesture reflected in the mirror. Daegan glanced over his shoulder, flashed his fangs at him. The hunter gave him a sardonic grin in return, then left the room, leaving him to the unpacking and shower he'd planned.

Don't tempt me . . . The warning he'd issued to Gideon had several levels, but the hunter was as oblivious to them as he was to personal danger. Take Gideon Green to a Vampire Council meeting. The warning he'd issued to Gideon had several levels, but the hunter was as oblivious to them as he was to personal danger. Take Gideon Green to a Vampire Council meeting. By the Holy Relics . . . By the Holy Relics . . . Of course, there would be some small pleasure in seeing the poker-faced Lord Uthe drop his jaw on the Council table. Shaking his head, Daegan started to move toward the showers, his hand on the hook to his trousers, but then he stopped. He really did need that shower. He'd executed one final vampire an hour before he'd gotten on the plane, and though he'd washed up in the sink, he still wanted the full cleansing effect. The vampire had been older and more aggressive, and had landed a lucky strike with a machete that had deprived Daegan of a quart of blood. He did need to feed, but he needed Anwyn more. Of course, there would be some small pleasure in seeing the poker-faced Lord Uthe drop his jaw on the Council table. Shaking his head, Daegan started to move toward the showers, his hand on the hook to his trousers, but then he stopped. He really did need that shower. He'd executed one final vampire an hour before he'd gotten on the plane, and though he'd washed up in the sink, he still wanted the full cleansing effect. The vampire had been older and more aggressive, and had landed a lucky strike with a machete that had deprived Daegan of a quart of blood. He did need to feed, but he needed Anwyn more.

He'd told her he wouldn't search her mind without valid cause, but that didn't prevent him from using it as a direct communication link. Anwyn, would you come take a shower with me? Anwyn, would you come take a shower with me?

The night he'd forced her to make Gideon her full servant, mere days before he left her, he'd been beyond cruel to her. He'd savagely f.u.c.ked her to rouse the predator in her, made her discard despair for fury. Afterward, he'd wanted to take her into a bath, sponge the evidence of his barbaric behavior off her thighs himself, hold her close, stroke her hair. Instead, he'd been ruthless. This past month, he'd stayed away from her because it was best. But Gideon was right. Now he had the opportunity to show her the tenderness he'd had to withhold. Though, in truth, that might have to wait. He needed to take her roughly first, his body vibrating for her in a way that had almost spilled onto Gideon, when he'd come close enough to touch Daegan. Blood and physical needs were tied up in the emotional, all riding close to the surface.

At last she responded. If I can stake you in your sleep afterward. If I can stake you in your sleep afterward.

It almost made him smile. So much for tenderness. Would you like me to come get you? Would you like me to come get you?

No response to that, but there was a faint sense of acknowledgment, positive or negative he didn't know. Leaving his room, he crossed over the shared living area, aware that Gideon was moving around the small reading room. Anwyn's door was cracked. Stepping in, he rapped on the boards, a simple courtesy, and gazed to the right, expecting her in the bathroom. He reached out with his mind and- Stars exploded in his vision from whatever blunt object hit his head. He ducked the next blow, caught her around the waist and yanked the bat out of her hands, tossing it toward the bed, swearing audibly. But it was her swearing he heard in his mind.

You son of a b.i.t.c.h.

She was vibrating with full, glorious rage. The pathetic, weeping creature she'd so often been before he left wasn't anywhere to be seen, replaced by flas.h.i.+ng eyes and a swirl of sable hair. She continued to swear at him in her mind, keeping the fight in silence. Obviously she didn't want Gideon privy to it, though her emotions were stormy enough he'd be surprised if Gideon wasn't picking up some of the fallout.

He shoved her up against the wall, keeping her arms pinned. Their bodies were intimately close, bare chest in his open s.h.i.+rt pressed to ripe b.r.e.a.s.t.s in lace, because she'd been changing. She was wearing a black demi-cup, one of his personal favorites with its propensity to be low enough to expose areola, particularly during this kind of struggle.

"Why the h.e.l.l did you do that?" he demanded, low, overriding her mental diatribe. Blessed Virgin, he thought she might have cracked his skull, and wondered when she'd decided to keep a baseball bat in her room.

"Because I'm going to have to kill someone to live. Because I didn't ask for this. Because I wouldn't have changed anything about knowing you, even if I'd known this was going to happen, and I don't know what kind of person that makes me. Mostly because I'm tired of learning about things by accident, or having them sprung on me, because one or both of you doesn't think I'm ready to deal with it."

"Then let me bring Gideon in so you can hit him in the head, too."

She snarled at him, and the tiny needle points of her fangs glittered. Humor vanished, and he caught her chin. "I won't hesitate to do anything I feel necessary to protect you, to help you deal with this. You aren't invincible. You can't handle it all at once, Anwyn. We've made the best judgments possible. I told you from the beginning, for this to work you were going to have to relinquish some control to us, trust us with that much."

"What about the night you made me mark Gideon? The way you f.u.c.ked me? You were p.i.s.sed, and you were using your d.i.c.k to make a point. That wasn't about trust and judgment."

"Yes, it was. You had no right to try to take your life. I had to break you out of your suicidal self-condemnation and deal with my anger at you at the same time. It suited both purposes."

She stared up at him. They held that locked battle of wills for several minutes. Daegan was acutely aware of the way her body felt, only that bra and her thin skirt between them, her bare foot pressed tensely on top of his.

"I want you to answer a question, and I want it to be the truth," she said between clenched teeth. "And don't you dare tell me you always give me the truth, or I swear I'll neuter you in your sleep."

Daegan pressed his lips together. If he smiled, he expected she'd react the same way. "Ask your question."

"We've been together five years, come this December. Do you remember back when you wanted me to be your servant, and I refused? You left me for six months."

He remembered, as much as he didn't want to recall that bleak period, or face the question he knew she was about to ask.

"When you came back," she continued, her voice strained, "you didn't ask me to be your servant anymore. You wouldn't even let me volunteer to do it. You never told me what changed. I want to know."

Bending his head, he pressed his nose into her hair, letting his eyes close briefly. She stayed still in his grasp, her body so close to his, her blood rus.h.i.+ng through her veins, her scent in his nose. He could overpower her, seduce her into silence, take her to screaming o.r.g.a.s.m, but the question would still be there, and her trust would be eroded further. He'd come home to something different between them. He could feel how much she wanted what he wanted, to touch her body, claim it anew, but only she could unlock her heart. To do that, he had to unlock his.

Lifting his head, he met her eyes. Over the past five years, he'd learned to give more of himself to her than he'd ever given to anyone, but there were places into which he still didn't invite her. He needed to start learning to handle that differently, not just because that was what she would ultimately demand, but it was what she needed. And he wasn't sure he could refuse her anything she truly needed.

"When I left, I had to come to grips with who and what you were at that time. Human, yes, but with a will very distinct from my own. Most vampires are attracted to humans who have an element of submission to them, cher cher. We sniff it out like bloodhounds, much the way nature brings together compatible creatures for mating. On the surface, and even in the deeper layers, you aren't that. When I touch you, you submit to me, but you don't do it as a natural submissive. You fight me; you challenge me; you do it on your own terms, as a Mistress. Much like your unique servant, there is something in you that allows your nature to surrender and submit, but only under specific circ.u.mstances, with one person. It makes you a very different animal. However, unlike Gideon, you could never have been my servant. Anwyn Inara Naime is a female Dominant. You would never view three marks as anything but a prison."

Sliding his other arm around her waist, he kept her pinned between the wall and his body. His c.o.c.k was hard and insistent against the juncture of her thighs, making her lips part, but her fingers clutched his biceps, her eyes waiting, watching.

"There are things about each of us we can't change, things that no one can or should ask us to change." He spread his fingers over her right b.u.t.tock, began to gather the skirt up, inch by inch, letting it climb her thighs. "That is what I realized. I realized that I would destroy what I loved about you by asking you to be what you couldn't be."

When her fingers dug into his biceps, as if to stop him, he shook his head, his dark eyes staying on hers as the skirt went up farther, exposing her to the cool air. "I will not be refused, cher cher. I've wanted you for too long, and you are mine, even if you try to deny it."

Her jaw firmed, and those nails pierced his flesh anyway. Glancing down, he saw his blood well up beneath her thumb, trickle over the curve of the muscle. "Brian told you that you could wear the razors under your nails again."

"Just the thumbs for now." Her eyes sparked. "I want you to promise me that you will tell me everything. Everything that's going to happen, everything that's happening now. Everything you know that will affect me. If you don't, I'll start scouring Gideon's mind like bakeware and you . . ."

His brow rose, waiting, and her lips firmed. "You're not impervious. I'll figure out some way to torment you, make your life h.e.l.l."

"Oh, cher cher." Letting his touch ease on her b.u.t.tock, becoming a fondling motion, he twined his other fingers in her loosened hair. She'd worn it down, because she knew he liked it loose. She'd worn his favorite lingerie, and her skin had a fragrant scent of lavender, also his favorite. "To do that, you only have to withhold your forgiveness from me." He slid a thumb over her cheek, acutely aware of how her lips trembled before she firmed them. "Do you have plans to forgive me for everything that still lies between us?"

"I've penciled in something for a couple of decades from now."

He'd been respecting her attempts to maintain a s.h.i.+eld between them, weak and thin though it was right now, but he got a flash of mixed emotions, her desire for what he could give her now warring with pride and fear. She needed him too much for the former, was too brave to let the other hold sway.

Millimeter by millimeter, however, the tension eased from her, and then he was just holding her against the wall, her legs wound around his thighs. "Yes. I will shower with you," she said.

"Good." Taking a moment, he put his forehead against hers again. Tentatively, her fingers came up, outlined his jaw, the slope of his cheeks.

"Daegan." She spoke his name softly, and his eyes closed. In a quick movement, he lifted her in his arms, and carried her back through the main room. Gideon had stretched out in front of the TV. Feeling his gaze following them, Daegan headed for his s.p.a.cious multi-jet shower. He wasn't a man who needed many comforts. However, having been bathed in blood so often, he was fond of a device that could wash away blood from so many angles, even the invisible blood of past struggles.

Gideon's lonely. Confused. Her sultry mind voice stroked his aroused nerves. Her sultry mind voice stroked his aroused nerves. Wants to be with us, but doesn't know what that means. Wants to be with us, but doesn't know what that means.

He's fine. We'll take care of him later. Daegan put her on her feet on the tile, steadied her as he turned on the water. Daegan put her on her feet on the tile, steadied her as he turned on the water.

As her serious eyes studied his face, he unhooked her bra, slid it off her arms. He didn't allow her to undress, but handled it himself, wanting to touch her skin as he pushed the skirt over her hips, caught the panties and took care of them. When he straightened, she placed her hands on his chest, slid them upward. Like a bird spreading out wings, she fanned her fingers, taking them under the open s.h.i.+rt, sliding it off his shoulders. She curved her hands over the rounded muscle as it dropped to the ground. Her gaze devoured him.

"I still smell the remains of blood on you. Faint, but it's there. You look tired and pale. You need to feed."

"I need to f.u.c.k you more. Hard and deep. And I want your blood on my tongue as much as your cream."

The way her eyes flamed in response, the wave of increased arousal he inhaled from between her legs, told him it was going to take restraint to hold off on doing what he wanted to do so much. He wanted to draw it out, tease both of them with it.

Her gaze still on his, her hands lowered to his waistband. "You may open my trousers, cher cher," he said in a husky tone, "but you won't touch my c.o.c.k. Not yet. I want you wet and begging for it."

"Afraid you might lose control and go off like a teenager?" Her lips curved but she obeyed, her nimble fingers slipping the hook and tugging down the zipper, incidental brushes of her knuckles only on the hard organ straining beneath.

"Behave," he warned. "Or I'll put you under the showerhead and let it force you to climax three or four times before I put myself inside you."

She wanted to taunt him. He heard her start the thought, You won't last that long You won't last that long, but then she pressed her lips together at the reaction in his gaze. She knew he'd do it, no matter his own desire. He'd given her the strike with the bat as her due, given her the answer to the question she needed for her heart, but he knew the difference between those things and her testing his dominance over her.

He'd held back through her anger, her nasty comments, because he'd needed time himself to know what was right and true. No matter what she was enduring, or the guilt he carried, the give-and-take between them was what they understood best. It was when they crossed blades, engaged in that delicate fencing, that they always found the way to the center of the complicated maze s.h.i.+elding each of their hearts. He was done holding back.

s.h.i.+fting her naked body into the heated spray, he followed her there. Inside the comforting rush of water, he took up the soap. The spray pattered drops all over her, dampened her hair, the high b.r.e.a.s.t.s and tight nipples, sluicing down her belly. Considering that tempting view, he dropped to one knee. It surprised her, he could tell, as he began to wash her thighs. He followed the enticing limb up to the juncture between her legs. When he pressed the heel of his soapy hand to her l.a.b.i.a, she bit her lip. Her fingers closed over his shoulders as she leaned back against the shower wall.

"It's all stupid games, isn't it?"

"What is, cher cher?"

"All those times I wanted something from you." Her voice was embellished by the water's whisper. "A word, a promise, things you couldn't give. So I kept myself at arm's length, not willing to give everything of myself because you wouldn't. It was stupid. Because all along you felt the same way."

"A promise unspoken is a promise never broken."

Her blue-green eyes flickered. "Like books of magic. Knowing a true name is power, which is why someone never speaks their true name. Unspoken makes it more powerful. More real."

Rather than interpret his statement as a reluctance to say what was in his heart, she'd understood. She knew him, knew his heart. He'd never really fooled her. She'd just needed him to have the faith in her to say the words. Though she hadn't yet completely forgiven or forgotten, it was something.

Rising, he cradled her face, staring down at her. With tenderness, he traced the bottom lip, touched the tiny lower fang, worked his way up to the longer upper canines, traced those as well. Her hand rested on his wrist, her body still, and he felt her attention like a magic of its own, closing around them both. Looking into her mind, he saw that there were so many things going on, orbiting around that center focus. Leaning in, he pressed his mouth to hers, realized how rarely they'd done this, a sweet, lingering, mouth-to-mouth, a barely touching. There was a slight tremble through her body, and maybe through his. A lot had happened these past few weeks; a lot had changed.

He'd lived in combat mode for a long time. A crisis was dealt with, handled, and then he moved on. He'd done it so well, he hadn't allowed himself much room to realize that, this time, more was needed, and not just for her. For him, as well. And maybe for another.

Her lashes lifted. He didn't know if she read it from him, as tightly closed as his mind always was, or if it simply moved in them both, a new synchronization to their thoughts and wishes that had perhaps always been there, but had been hampered by those s.h.i.+elds and protections she'd referenced. Or what he was and what she hadn't been, until now.

I want him here, too. Does that make sense?

Yes, cher. cher. He's your servant. He's your servant. But he knew it was more than that. While she didn't challenge it, her sensual lips curved, telling him she still wasn't fooled. But he knew it was more than that. While she didn't challenge it, her sensual lips curved, telling him she still wasn't fooled.

"Do you think he'll come if I call him?"

"I think so. Though keep in mind he's more terrier than retriever. Savagely loyal, but not always predictable."

"I think that's what we both like about him." Her tongue touched her lips, moistened them, and more beads of water rolled down the delicate architecture of her throat, caressing the firm, high tops of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

He'd waited long enough. In one effortless move, he had her up against the shower wall, gripping her thighs, and drove home. He knew her body so well he didn't have to hesitate. She moaned, startled at his sudden decision but welcoming it. Her slippery channel pulled him in, her body bucking up in his arms. She wrapped her own around his back, those razored nails sliding along his flesh, raking him and splattering his feet with crimson, the smell of his own blood.

Don't waste it, cher cher.

He'd felt her hunger. She had a moment of hesitation, remembering he needed to feed, but he had no patience for her coddling. He brought her mouth to his throat, cupping the back of her neck, fingers tangled hard in her hair. She read his need and answered it, puncturing him with those dainty fangs, making a sound in her throat as his blood rushed into her mouth. He surged back into her, holding her so close she was pressed flush to him, from groin to breast, as he hammered into her body. This first time, it wasn't about pleasure or climax. It was a deep-seated need being met, conveying how much he'd missed her, had wanted to be here, that brought her to an emotional pinnacle that overflowed in her mind, spilled over to his. More images than thoughts, but all of them were the things she'd wanted and missed so much while he was away.

Because of that, he was able to slow himself down enough to reach between them, stroke her, tease the stretched opening, caress her spread thighs, the tingling nerves there. When she dropped her head back against the tile, he caught her mouth, tasting his blood on her tongue.

He moved to her throat, but didn't bite, stroking the artery with his fangs as the hot water rained on them. He maintained a steady stroke, knowing her body so well, feeling every incremental s.h.i.+ft up toward climax, the way her body was tightening on his, responding in kind, goading him higher. Her legs were locked over his hips, her vampire strength holding her easily on him, such that with the brace of the wall behind her he could curve his back, work his way down her sternum and issue the command in his mind.