My Lord Vampire
Page 12

Did he think her home was his to come and go as he pleased?
Did he possess no manners whatsoever?
Conveniently forgetting her earlier relief at his timely arrival she planted her hands upon her hips and dredged up the most condemning blasphemy she could conjure.
“Men.”
Chapter 5
No human eye could have detected the shadow that moved down the streets of London with enough stealth that the dust did not so much as stir beneath his black boots.
Gideon, however, was unconcerned with human eyes. He knew quite well that Tristan could easily detect his form no matter how he clung to the shadows. And that with his shape-shifting powers he could trap him without warning.
Still he continued to follow the faint scent that Tristan had left behind when he had fled Simone’s home. After nearly a fortnight in London he was no closer to finding the vampire’s hidden lair and he was becoming impatient with his failure.
No, more than impatient, he reluctantly acknowledged.
After Tristan had taunted him by providing yet another gift for him, his control had nearly snapped.
He did not doubt that there would be another golden-haired woman discovered upon the streets of London. A stark warning that Tristan was all too aware of his growing weakness toward Lady Gilbert. A weakness he would use to his full advantage.
His teeth clenched as he made his way past the British Museum on Great Russell Street and turned onto the narrow, dirty street ridiculously claiming the title of Queen Street. How long would it be before Tristan became infuriated enough to forget that killing Simone would destroy the Medallion as well? His pride and ambition were far too deeply ingrained to allow him to accept defeat gracefully.
Swiftly becoming lost in the maze of squares, Gideon picked up his pace. The haunting scent of Tristan was much nearer. Perhaps with a bit of luck ...
Gideon ground out a curse as he entered a darkened alley and was abruptly confronted by a thick mist that reached out to strike a razor-thin cut across his cheek. His fingers lifted to touch the warm blood that welled from the slice, inwardly chiding himself for his stupidity.
He had been fully on guard and yet he still had walked blindly into the ambush. A certain warning that his growing desperation to put an end to Tristan was rattling the cold logic he had always taken such pride in.
As if sensing his self-disgust, Tristan gave an eerie chuckle as he swirled in mist before Gideon.
“You have grown slow and weak, Gideon, hiding behind the Veil. Or is it from hiding behind the skirts of a woman?” he taunted.
“You begin to annoy me,” Gideon retorted in icy tones. “Show yourself.”
“So that you can strike that dagger you are hiding in your jacket into my heart? I think not.”
Gideon forced a mocking smile to his stiff lips. “You always were a coward, Tristan, choosing to prey on those weaker than yourself and hiding in the shadows.”
The mist briefly swirled, as if Gideon had managed to strike a raw nerve.
“And you have always been an arrogant prig. However did the Great Council compel you to return to this world of disgusting, inferior humans?”
Slipping his hand into the jacket to grasp the hilt of the dagger, Gideon gave a shrug. He would not be caught off guard again.
“Unlike you I comprehend my duty to the vampires. I seek our glory, not our destruction.”
“Glory?” There was a rasping laugh. “Cowering behind that ridiculous Veil like we are pathetic weaklings rather than the masters of all? These mortals should be our servants; they should bow before us and feed our lust. They should tremble in fear at the mere thought of our presence.”
It was a call that had been made by more than one vampire since they had left the world behind. There had always been those who desired to conquer and enslave the weak. Tristan, however, had taken the need for conquest to near madness.
To even think he would seek to destroy the Veil and to challenge the great Nefri herself was unforgivable.
“We do not cower, we seek the higher truth that makes us superior,” he said in proud tones.
The mist shimmered, cloaking Gideon in a sensation of malignant disdain.
“Fah. You are no more than willing chattel to the Great Council. You have become as meek and obedient as well-pampered dogs. And like all leashed dogs you no longer realize you are mere captives. You have forgotten the thrill of the hunt.”
Gideon smoothly stepped back as his features hardened. “You believe it better to wallow in bloodlust like a savage? You are no better than humans.”
“I am free,” Tristan grated in angry tones. “I am out of that prison and I will soon rule this world.”
His hand instinctively tightened upon the dagger. As repulsive as the thought of harming another vampire might be, he would never allow the Veil to be destroyed.
Or Simone be hurt, a renegade voice whispered in the back of his mind.
“You will return to the Veil, or you will die,” he stated without emotion.
“You think you can challenge me?” There was a low growl before the mist flicked out to slice the other side of his face. “You have become soft ... a mere puppet for the Great Council to toy with as they please. I can destroy you whenever I choose.”
Gideon ignored the stinging pain that lanced through his cheek. He could not afford to be distracted. Poised for another attack, he held the dagger before him.
“Another will take my place,” he said grimly. “Do you think to battle every vampire?”
As if satisfied he had made his point, the mist settled back in the shadows.
“A simple matter once I possess the Medallion.”
“Nefri has ensured you will never gain command of the Medallion.”
The antagonism that lay heavy in the air abruptly lightened with a near smug amusement.
“You believe I cannot lure that golden-haired harlot to my will? It is only a matter of time before she gives me the amulet. And then ...” Tristan paused as if to savor his words. “Ah, then I will teach her a lesson in daring to defy me.”
Gideon struggled to disguise the fierce fury that flared through him. He would not give Tristan the satisfaction of knowing just how vulnerable he was becoming.
It might very well be a fatal mistake.
“Your spells and powers cannot work upon Lady Gilbert as long as she is protected by Nefri.”
“I have no need of spells to seduce a mere mortal,” the vampire sneered, his voice echoing through the darkened alley. “Very soon she will be anxious to offer me whatever I desire. And if you ask very, very nicely I might even allow you to watch as I feast upon her.”
Gideon took a step forward before he could halt the revealing movement. It was all too easy to imagine the slender woman broken and bloodied by the vengeful renegade. Without the Medallion she would be helpless against a vampire.
“You will die,” he growled in rough tones.
A taunting laugh came from the swirl of mist. “How very delicious. The aloof, oh so superior Gideon, lusting after a disgusting human. It really is priceless.”
“I lust to bring an end to the traitors who have turned their backs on their own people,” he rasped, his fury nearly overwhelming him.
“I would suggest that you take your pleasure with Lady Gilbert swiftly. When I have finished with her I fear that she will not be nearly so lovely.”
Clenching the dagger Gideon stepped forward, his features taut with simmering danger.
“Face me, Tristan,” he growled.
Just down the alley a piercing scream split the night air, making Gideon stiffen with warning. Surprisingly he heard a low chuckle come from the mist before it was drifting toward the street.
“Enjoy my present, Gideon.”
For a moment Gideon hesitated, seething with the need to follow the traitor and finish their business one way or another. Only the knowledge that Tristan might very well be leading him into yet another ambush made him check in his impatience.
He had recklessly allowed himself to be lured once this evening. He would not be goaded again. On the next occasion their confrontation would be a time and place of his choosing.
Replacing the dagger Gideon moved down the alley toward the screams that still echoed through the air. He already suspected what he would find. Tristan had deliberately led him here for a purpose other than taunting him.
The elder woman stood in a pool of light that came from the open door to the lodging house.
“What is the matter?” he demanded as he stepped beside her.
“Molly. She’s ...”
“Where?” he impatiently cut into her shuddering words.
She pointed toward the open door. “There.”
With a thick reluctance Gideon stepped forward, his gaze discovering the crumpled form of a young woman. It took only a moment to realize that she had been savagely attacked. He could still smell the death and terror that lingered in the air.
His lips tightened as his gaze traveled over the long golden hair that shimmered in the flickering candlelight.
Tristan.
Abruptly he turned toward the woman silently weeping for the dead maiden.
“Find the Watch.”
Cutting the last thread upon the hem, Simone held up the shimmering lilac gown that she had just completed.