“Not that I'm relishing the chance to throw the Grasshopper stuff right back at you, but that one's pretty obvious. You represent what her world is going to become, a world she didn't ask for. She's working through it. She'll figure it out.”
When she did, the gift of trust she'd invested in Gideon so unexpectedly would likely be irrelevant. That erratic third-wheel feeling he kept having would become a constant tread, not just the occasional bump in the road. Good thing he wasn't planning on doing this forever, right?
Before he could slice his gut any deeper with that knife, he shifted his thoughts to something more productive. “In the meantime, if she doesn't want us around her, why don't we coax her into wanting to be around us?”
“Coax?” Daegan lifted that patrician brow again. For some reason, Gideon was oddly reminded of the stained glass angel. He expected that was what had attracted Anwyn to it.
“Yeah.” Gideon snorted. “For most of us poor bastards, coaxing women is a fact of life.”
“Based on what I know of your personality, you must have tremendous experience.”
“Nope. Rarely get that far. But my gut usually helps me out. She said something about wanting to dance to a song about the terrible and wonderful parts of love. One of her favorites. You know it?” Daegan nodded. He moved toward the music cabinet, but spoke over his shoulder. “I think she will surprise us both in the end, Gideon. As I think you will surprise yourself. You have already surprised me, and that is not an easy thing to do.”
Gideon grunted at that, but as Daegan scrolled through the selection, the vampire tookhim off guard.
“So, when you spoke to your brother, what did Lyssa decide you could know about me?”
“You know everything. Why don't you tell me?”
Daegan tossed him a humorless look. “You and your brother are very close. He trusts you, and Lyssa trusts him. So I expect she told you that I am a Council assassin.”
“Yeah. She knows I have no friends and am likely to get myself killed anytime now, so she figures your secret's pretty safe.”
“Lady Lyssa is usually a very good judge of character.” Daegan gave an absent half chuckle. “But I know you will keep her confidence. Because you love your brother, not for any love you bear me.”
“Given.” Gideon took a seat on the couch arm, watching him. “So, in essence, you're a vampire hunter, like me.”
“I am a vampire hunter. Not like you.”
Gideon watched the male's shoulders flex as he twisted, the denim tightening over lean flanks as he squatted to look at a lower rack. He blinked at himself. Jesus, the pheromone-soaked environment was re ally affecting him if he was checking out the guy's ass.
“What does that mean, not like you? You aiming for a pissing contest on numbers?”
“No.” Daegan's tone sharpened, a mild warning and reassurance at once. “I understand your anger about your fiancé, Gideon. But that kind of anger has to do with your own self, your fear of her pain and your own shortcomings. She is beyond her pain, and you loved her. You would have done anything to keep her safe, and she is where she knows that. So forgive yourself, and move on. While killing makes the gods weep, justice is their Will. Vengeance, death out of mindless impulse and violence, fear and insecurity, are not.”
Alarmed to feel his throat thickening, Gideon set his jaw. “You don't talk about her. And all that's just more Grasshopper crap.”
“You need to listen, and hear it.” Daegan held his gaze. “Vampires are not the only ones I am dispatched to kill, Gideon Green. Your name has been on my list for some time. It was your brother who saved your life.”
Gideon stopped in midretort. “Jacob never said—”
“No, he and I have never spoken. You were taking out vampires indiscriminately, vampires like Trey as well as Barnabus.” Daegan's focus was unwavering now. “You were on the Council's list, after the Gathering. I began tracking you, collecting data on whether or not your execution was warranted.”
“I thought a vampire like you barely had to think twice to kill a human.”
“I plan and think about every assignment I'm given, thoroughly. Now be silent for a moment. Listen with something other than your anger.” Daegan rose, faced him, as Gideon bit down on an uncharitable response. The male was going to tell him how he knew so damn much about him. He could always stake him after that. Or throw some serious insults his way.
“Your kill pattern changed around that time. I realized Jacob was giving you the names of vampires that fell squarely in line with those I am given to dispatch, because of their numerous Council violations. I have not shared that with the Council, because the truce toward your brother and the lady Lyssa is still very fragile.
“I reported instead that your target acquisition was changing, and you were handling the lesser vampires that would have made my list anyway, thereby saving the Council the trouble of being connected to those deaths. If you were killed, which they agreed was inevitable, two birds would be gotten with one stone.
We agreed that I would monitor you and, if your kill pattern changed again, our strategy would change as well.”
Daegan's dark eyes held Gideon's blue ones, and the space between them seemed much smaller. “If things had not happened as they have, you would have been on that list again after the other night.
Because of Trey.”
Son of a bitch. Gideon repeated it in his mind, too flummoxed to speak it aloud, though tension made every muscle rigid. Bastard had been tracking him, had an execution order, but decided not to carry it out because Gideon had become Jacob's lackey . . .
The vampire turned back to the music. “I found the song. Do you wish to pursue this now, or do I need to unkink the knot I've put in your dick?”
“I'm half tempted to put one in yours.”
Daegan gave him a sanguine smile then, the sharp ends of his teeth glistening. “If you want to touch my cock, vampire hunter, you need only beg to do so.”
Before Gideon could answer that, and follow it up with a sucker punch, Daegan added, “Why don't you call her in your mind? See if she'll come join us.”
“Just put the song in. Crank it up. Let's see if she nibbles at the bait.” As Daegan complied and the first strains of the song cut through the air, he commented, “Perhaps she's already heard our conversation.”
“She said she'd try not to pry without permission, once she gets a handle on it.” Daegan's expression closed down. “Sometimes a made vampire attempts to hold on to her or his humanity, the rules of morality that apply to that species. But in time they discover our world is different, and every advantage and resource must be utilized. The relationship between servant and vampire is key to survival, the surrender of the servant to the vampire's needs. Your understanding, and acceptance of that, will help her.”
“Sorry. Neither of us thought to take Becoming an Immortal Vampire 101 before Barnabus came looking for you.”
A muscle twitched in Daegan's jaw. For a moment, Gideon thought they'd have a go at a far more physical sparring match, but then Anwyn opened her bedroom door.
21
DAEGAN knew the song, of course, but Gideon had to have been the one who suggested it. Anwyn stepped out of her room to see the two of them squared off. There were a few feet between them, but the combustible energy suggested they were about to become a lot closer, and not in a good way. She wanted to be angry with them both, but she knew how males dealt with worry. Daegan's temper was hard to rouse, but once it was provoked, it took a while for it to settle. She remembered one night she'd deliberately goaded him, purely for the repercussions. He'd made her pay for it in a variety of dark and delicious ways that had lasted well past dawn, until even her pleasure-sated body was weeping in exhaustion. And then, he'd taken her once more, to underscore the point, a serious message beneath the sensual play.
She'd pricked at him a lot worse than that these past couple days, but he kept holding back. Perversely, she wanted to push him over the edge, give him a reason to unleash toward her, scald them both in a response that would take them past everything. But it wouldn't. They'd just proven that, hadn't they?
Though of course he'd been far from losing his damnable control or command of the situation.
There was blood on his white shirt, but her new senses picked up the scent, told her it was his own, an inconsequential cut. More of the games that boys played, of course. The music curled around her. Rufus Wainwright's version of “Hallelujah.” The whimsical piano introduction provided the lead-in to the rough, emotion-laden voice, telling her what love was and wasn't. Pulling everything from a lover, taking his strength and making him grateful for the privilege of having it taken. Love, a broken cry on a rainy day, not an unbridled shout of joy in the sunshine. The erotic and spiritual come together in one poignant yearning, joy and bitter pain mixed.
She realized then she was still standing in her doorway, only now her eyes were closed, her body swaying to it. Her senses detected him before he reached her, so she was already willing, moving into his grasp as Gideon's arms slid around her waist. She did like a man who didn't hesitate when she needed his decisiveness. And she had two of those in abundance. “I think you said something about dancing?” His voice was a murmur, as riveting as Rufus's.
No need to talk about what had happened in those last uncomfortable moments in the shower. Not now.
Not until she was ready. They would give her that, and she might choose to continue to avoid the issues that seemed insurmountable.
Instead, she put her hands on his chest, stepping forward in a slow two-step, following the music. She kept her eyes closed, letting him lead. He knew the two-step. Small miracles. Wasn't there another song about those? She supposed there was a song about everything that had ever bloomed in the heart or bludgeoned it.
Moving one of her hands from Gideon's chest to his waiting palm, she made it a dance position so that they could execute a turn around the room. His left leading, her right following. Then Daegan's hand settled on her waist from behind, his other coming up over theirs to clasp both as he fell into step, his jaw against her temple briefly, his heat closing the circle around her.
