That unfamiliar sense of fear returned.
Not for himself. At least not in the physical sense.
But fear that he might fail.
He could not allow that to happen.
If he did ... the woman he loved would die.
The dark, stench-filled streets of the Rookery seemed uncommonly quiet as they pulled the carriage to a halt.
In the distance the sounds of the gin houses and calls of the prostitutes echoed eerily, but nothing stirred among the decrepit buildings that pressed close to the brewery.
Seated beside Gideon, Simone gave a violent shiver as she peered into the shadows.
“I am afraid,” she said softly, not at all embarrassed to admit her building panic.
Reaching out a hand he covered her fists clenched in her lap with a comforting warmth.
“I will not allow Tristan to harm you.”
She turned her head to regard him with a troubled gaze. “He is a vampire.”
“Yes, and because he has taken human life he is extremely powerful.”
Her stomach quivered in horror, for the moment she could not think of the poor victims Tristan had murdered; her concern was only for Gideon and the risk he was about to take.
“More powerful than you?”
“In some regards,” he admitted, then, shifting his hand from her own, he reached beneath his coat to remove a small dagger. “I do, however, have a weapon he fears above all others.”
Simone was not overly impressed with the dagger. It hardly appeared to be a weapon suitable of disposing of a vampire.
“What will it do?” she demanded in puzzlement.
There was a pause before his elegant features abruptly tightened with distaste.
“It will kill him.”
Simone was swift to sense the reluctance in his words. Whatever Tristan had done, he was a vampire and it was obvious that Gideon would take no pleasure in his death.
“You do not wish to use it?” she asked gently.
“No.” His gaze shifted to the shabby brewery, a frown marring his brow. “Killing another vampire is like killing a father or brother. I would prefer he return behind the Veil.”
“Do you think that likely?”
“No.” There was a pause before he abruptly turned to leap from the carriage. Rounding the horses he helped her to alight. “We must wait no longer.”
She grasped his arm in a firm grip. “You will remember to be careful?”
He gazed down at her with dark, unreadable eyes. “Yes, but I will have a promise from you before we enter.”
There was an edge to his voice that warned her she was not going to like what he was about to demand.
“What is that?”
“If anything happens to me, you are to flee as swiftly as you are able and seek out my cousins. They will protect you.”
“I ...” She swallowed heavily, unable to even consider the possibility that Gideon might be harmed. “Very well.”
“Your promise, Simone,” he demanded, easily seeing through her attempt to avoid a direct pledge. “You cannot battle Tristan. If he cannot possess the Medallion he will destroy you.”
She bit her lip, disliking the thought of running out and leaving Gideon. She had waited her entire life to find someone who made her content to be herself. Someone who did not judge her upon who she was, or care if she possessed unblemished bloodlines. Someone who could love her as Lady Gilbert
or
Sally Jenkins.
Still, she knew he was right.
If he was overtaken by Tristan, she could not possibly face the vampire alone. And while she might not care if she lived or died if Gideon was taken from her, she could not allow the Medallion to fall into the traitor’s hands.
She owed Gideon that much.
“I promise,” she reluctantly conceded.
“Thank you.” Taking her hand he pulled her into the shadows. “This way.”
Unable to match Gideon’s silent tread, Simone stumbled behind him, coming to a startled halt as he paused before the open door.
Turning, he bent close to her ear. “Tristan is inside. Remember your promise.”
Simone battled her rising panic as she gave a slow nod of her head. For all that she had endured in her life, she knew that nothing could prepare her for this. She could only hope that she was strong enough.
Gripping his hand tightly she walked at his side as they entered the brewery, when there was a sudden flare of light as Tristan lit a lantern. Like Gideon she had already sensed the presence of the vampire, and had no doubt he was well aware of their arrival.
Attired in a bloodred coat and gray pantaloons the vampire might have been just another flamboyant dandy if not for the gaunt hollowness of his countenance and lethal glitter in his eyes. Even in the flickering light there was something unearthly about his presence.
The cold smell of him filled the air, but not completely enough to disguise the wretched stench of a rotting corpse. Simone shuddered, a tangible sense of danger crawling over her skin.
Seeming to flow to the center of the large room, the vampire regarded Simone with a mocking smile.
“Ah, the delicious Lady Gilbert, at last,” he purred softly. “And, of course, the ever faithful Gideon.”
Gideon gave a slight incline of his head. “Tristan.”
“I must say that I am rather surprised at you, Simone,” the vampire continued, his awful gaze taking a slow survey of her tense form. “I did not believe you would be willing to confess your rather sordid secret to anyone. You did tell him of your little secret, did you not?”
Attempting to disguise her raging fear, Simone tilted her chin to a defiant angle.
“Yes.”
Tristan’s lips twisted with ugly amusement, as if fully aware of her inner panic.
“Pretending to be your dead sister, very naughty,” he chided. “How do you think the Ton will react when they discover you are no more than a common bastard masquerading as one of your betters?”
Feeling Gideon softly squeeze her fingers in encouragement, Simone shockingly realized that the threat no longer had the power to terrify her. She could face anything, she acknowledged in amazement, even exposure and the inevitable condemnation from society, as long as Gideon was at her side.
“I no longer care,” she said in proud tones.
The vampire briefly faltered as his eyes narrowed. “Liar. You will do anything not to be exposed.”
She managed to meet his gaze without flinching. “I have already confessed the truth to the one person who matters.”
Gideon pulled her closer as Tristan angrily stepped closer, his hands clenched at his sides.
“Do not be a fool, Simone. I will have the Medallion.”
With a smooth step Gideon was moving to stand between her and the advancing vampire.
“No, I think not, Tristan.”
Peering around Gideon’s large form, Simone watched as Tristan swiftly regained command of his temper and returned to his image of mocking nonchalance.
“I am weary of your interference,” the vampire drawled, waving a thin hand in dismissal. “Once I have dealt with Lady Gilbert, I will ensure you are properly punished.”
“You already failed once to be rid of me,” Gideon retorted without the slightest trace of fear.
Without warning the vampire gave a short laugh. “Did you enjoy my little surprise?”
“It convinced me that you must be halted—even if it means I must kill you.”
“Fah, what a pathetic wretch you have become, Gideon,” Tristan taunted even as his lean form tensed to strike. “Soon this mortal woman will have a leash about your neck so that she can prance you about town like a lapdog. Do you have no pride left?”
Ignoring the deliberate attempt to goad his temper, Gideon faced his adversary squarely.
“Will you return to the Veil?”
“Never,” Tristan spat in disgust.
“Then it appears we have nothing left to discuss.”
Tristan shrugged, his smile intact as he watched Gideon slowly move toward him.
“You know, I did hope to leave you alive long enough to watch as I enjoyed the blood of your lover. But perhaps once I have you in my command, little Sally will realize she has no choice but to give me the Medallion.”
“It is over, Tristan,” Gideon warned.
“For you.”
With a movement too swift for Simone to follow Tristan struck out, knocking Gideon to the ground. She cried out, but even as she stepped forward, Gideon was back on his feet with the dagger firmly in his hand.
The two slowly began to circle one another, both warily waiting for the other to strike. Simone pressed a hand to her mouth, anxious not to distract Gideon for even a moment.
They continued to circle, then without warning Tristan simply vanished in a wisp of fog, just as abruptly appearing behind Gideon and slamming his hands into the back of his head.
Gideon staggered but swiftly turned to face the vampire.
Tristan flowed backward, careful to avoid the dagger, his lips pulled into a vicious smile.
“What is it you want, Gideon?” he demanded. “A share in the power?”
“I have no desire for power, Tristan. I only wish to protect the Veil.”
The mist again swallowed Tristan and to her horror, Simone watched as a deep cut appeared on Gideon’s cheek.
“Show yourself, you coward,” Gideon snapped, suddenly shifting as the mist gathered behind him and more blood began to pour from a cut on his back.
“Join me, Gideon,” a disembodied voice whispered. “Together we could rule the world.”
“Your thirst for power has driven you mad,” Gideon retorted, fluidly turning to watch as Tristan again reappeared. “You would sacrifice us all for your own glory.”
“But of course.” The vampire laughed in a scornful manner. “My glory is all that concerns me.”
“It will not be allowed,” Gideon warned, his hand clenched tight upon the dagger in his hand.
Across the room Simone could feel his sharp emotions. As much as he might detest what the vampire had become in his frenzy for power, he still wavered in using the dagger. He could as easily have plunged the weapon in his own heart.
No doubt aware of Gideon’s reluctance, Tristan gave a dismissive wave of his hand.
“There is no one who can halt me. Not even Nefri.”
Gideon surged forward, but as swiftly as he moved he was not quick enough. In the blink of an eye, Tristan was gone and suddenly Simone felt the deadly cold clutch of his fingers as they clutched about her neck. Shock held her still as Tristan tightened his grip and she felt the air being squeezed from her body.
“No,” Gideon cried.
“Tell her to give me the Medallion, Gideon,” he warned in icy tones. Simone desperately sought to breathe, her eyes wide with fright even as she gave a faint shake of her head.
“Let her go,” Gideon commanded, his face set in lines of deadly determination.
“Only after she has given me what I desire.”
“Tristan ...”
“She is dying. I can feel her life slipping away. Now tell her to give me the Medallion,” Tristan growled, giving Simone a shake.
“No.”
Fighting the darkness that threatened to consume her, Simone watched Gideon abruptly straighten. Behind her Tristan tensed, prepared to battle a sudden attack. But just as Simone realized that Gideon would never reach her before Tristan could snap her neck, there was a blur of movement and a shocked gasp of disbelief from behind her.
The hand about her neck fell away and stumbling to her knees, Simone shifted about to see Tristan lying on the hard floor with the dagger deeply plunged into his heart.
Still panting with the effort of trying to breathe through her bruised throat, Simone felt Gideon come to kneel beside her. Her gaze, however, remained upon the body next to her.
In horror she watched a shimmering glow outline the long form, flickering in the dim light, then appallingly the body began to turn to ash. Her eyes widened as Tristan simply crumbled onto the floor until there was nothing left but the faintest trace of darkness upon the stone.
A comforting arm encircled her trembling body and Gideon pressed a kiss to her temple.
“It is done.”
For a moment Gideon simply held on to Simone, allowing the warmth of her to seep into his chilled heart.
He had not realized how difficult it would be to kill Tristan. Not even when he had known that his own life was held in the balance could he force himself to plunge the dagger into the traitor. To bring the life of a vampire to an end went against every moral he possessed.
It was not until Tristan had dared to threaten Simone that his revulsion had been thrust aside and he had reacted without even thinking.
Now, however, reaction was setting in and he shivered in disgust.
Not only at having killed, but the knowledge that he had very nearly waited too long.
One more moment and Simone would be dead.
And he would have been entirely to blame.
His arms tightened about her, his lips unable to stop stroking the satin skin of her temple. He had to reassure himself that she was alive and in his embrace where she belonged.
“Simone, are you harmed?” he demanded in rasping tones.
He felt her shiver as she leaned against him. “Nothing that will not heal.”
“Damnation,” he cursed his weakness at the sound of her strained voice. It was obvious her throat had been injured. “I was terrified Tristan would kill you before I could reach you. I had no choice but to throw the dagger and hope for the best.”
Her fingers rose to touch the amulet that lay upon her skin. “He was too determined to have the Medallion,” she husked.
Gideon gave a slow nod of his head. He was well aware that it had been Tristan’s obsession for the Medallion that had made him hesitate in striking Simone down.
He could only thank Nefri that he had paused.
“Yes. It was his downfall. That and his confidence that I would not choose to destroy him. I very nearly waited too long.”
Easily able to sense his inner turmoil, Simone raised her hand to gently lay it against his cheek.
“Gideon, do not.”
His lips thinned. “I allowed him to hurt you.”
“You attempted to give him an opportunity to save himself,” she argued in soft, but ruthless tones. “Had you simply killed him without remorse or regret you would be no better than he.”
Her words, of course, made sense, but he was not yet prepared to accept what he had done.
“He had become crazed with his lust for the Medallion.”
Simone slowly turned her head to regard the darkened stones. “What happened to him?”
With reluctance, Gideon reached out to retrieve the dagger that lay on the ground.
“The power of the blade destroyed his soul.”
Her breath caught. “His soul?”
“It is as if he never existed. A horrible fate for any vampire.”
As if at last truly comprehending just how final a death Tristan had suffered, Simone regarded him with sad eyes.
“I am sorry, Gideon.”
“As am I.” He briefly thought of his arrogant certainty when he had arrived in London. He had never thought that Tristan would prove so relentless. It had seemed a simple matter to convince him of the error of his ways, and to escort him to the Great Council. “I did not believe it would come to this.”
There was a faint pause as Simone studied his tortured expression.
“Why were you sent to face him?” she at last demanded. “Surely there were others more capable?”
His pride was ridiculously pricked by her abrupt question. Did she feel as if he had somehow failed her?
“More capable?”
“I presume that vampires can be as different from one another as humans are. There must have been another who would not have been so reluctant to face Tristan.”
He frowned at her perception, for the first time actually pondering the reason he had been called before the Great Council. It was true that there were those who would have been quite anxious to punish the renegades. Some far more talented in the arts of battle than he.
“I do not know,” he slowly confessed. “At the time I was told I had been chosen I presumed that it was because I was intelligent and always logical. Now ...”
“What is it?”
A niggling unease settled in the pit of his stomach. He knew that he must be overlooking something. Some vague sense that there was more to this than he could put his finger upon.
“It does not make sense,” he muttered in annoyance for his uncommon stupidity. “As you say, there were others that surely would have been far more capable of facing Tristan.”
Her expression abruptly melted as she gazed deep into his eyes. “Whatever the reason, I owe them a debt of gratitude. I would not have desired anyone but you to protect me.”
Gideon readily allowed himself to be distracted, and slipping the dagger beneath his coat he firmly returned his arms about her delicious form.
“No one else will ever be allowed to protect you. You belong to me.”
She arched her brows at his deliberately arrogant tone. “Belong?”
He breathed in her warm scent. “Can you not feel it deep within you?”
Her eyes briefly closed before they opened to regard him with shimmering love.
“Yes.”
Gideon gave a low groan as he pressed his lips to her forehead. The last three days had been the longest in his life as he waited for her to come to him. He’d wanted so desperately to force his way into her home where he could prove to her that his emotions were no different than any other gentleman’s. And that he would devote his life to making her happy.
Only the knowledge that he might very well force her even farther from him had kept him away.
“I thought I had driven you away when I confessed the truth.”
“It was difficult to accept,” she admitted.
“Yes, I know.”
She heaved a faint sigh. “I wanted to convince myself that you were mad and that my feelings for you had been those for a gentleman who did not exist.”
“But you came to me tonight.”
“I realized that there was no one else that I could trust,” she said simply.
He pulled back to study her pale features. It was past time for honesty between the two of them.
“Because of your secrets?” he demanded gently.
“In part. I thought ...” She gave a wry smile. “Rather, I hoped that you would not turn from me in disgust when you learned my true identity.”
He gave an impatient click of his tongue, still amazed that she would think for a moment that he could care about such a trivial matter.
“I would never turn from you,” he assured her. “Certainly not because your mother was not of noble blood. Such things mean nothing to me.”
Her eyes darkened with sudden emotion. “That is only a measure of why I came to you tonight.”
“Tell me why, Simone,” he urged.
“Because I could no longer deny that I had fallen in love with you.”
Sweet, heated pleasure rushed through Gideon as he allowed her words to sink deep within him. He never thought to feel this way, nor to depend upon another to bring him such happiness.
“Oh, my sweet, you fill my heart with joy,” he groaned softly.
Shifting awkwardly on the hard floor to place her arms around his neck she offered him a wry smile.
“I can think of more comfortable surroundings to continue this conversation.”
Gideon gave a rueful chuckle. He had been so enwrapped in Simone he had nearly forgotten the dreadful brewery.
“True enough.” Rising to his feet he carefully helped her to stand, assuring himself that she was not still suffering from her ordeal before slipping her arm through his own and leading her toward the door. Watching her carefully he did not miss her grimace as they moved through the flickering shadows. “What is it?” he demanded in concern.
“That horrible smell.”
Gideon’s features tightened, wishing that he could protect her from the truth.
“It is no doubt Tristan’s servants.”
She lifted her head in surprise. “He killed them?”
“No, but once they became trapped in his power they would no longer be concerned for their own needs. Most starve to death within a few days.”
She shuddered in disgust. “How horrid.”
“Yes.”
They walked in silence out of the brewery and into the alley before she inevitably realized how helpless she could have been in Tristan’s power.
“Dear heavens, why did he not do the same to me? I would no doubt have given him the Medallion without question.”
He placed his arm about her shoulder at the edge of fear in her voice. “Because the Medallion itself protects you. Not even I was able to use Compulsion to sway you to my will, although my talent is far greater than Tristan’s. It caused me no end of annoyance.”
Thankfully his teasing words lightened her dark expression and she flashed him a speaking gaze.
“Then I am not under some mysterious spell?”
Gideon paused to help her into the carriage before taking his own place and urging the horses down the street.
“Only the spell of my irresistible charm,” he assured her with a roguish grin.
She gave a loud sniff at his arrogance. “I would not claim it irresistible.”
He arched a dark brow. “You dare to question the power of my charm? Obviously I shall have to prove to you just how irresistible I can be.”
A smile touched Simone’s lips as they swiftly made their way back toward the more fashionable streets of London.
It was over.
Truly over.
Tristan could no longer threaten her, and most important of all, Gideon was safe.
It seemed unbelievable.
There would be no more glancing over her shoulder in fear that she was being followed, no more nights haunted by dreams of the vampire, no more pacing the floor in fear that Gideon would be taken from her.
Gideon.
Her smile slowly faded as she glanced at the purity of his handsome profile.
She had been so concerned that something might happen to him, that she had never taken the time to consider what would happen once this was all over.
Tristan was dead. There was no more threat to her. And no more reason for him to remain.
Whatever his claims to possess feelings for her, his place was not in London. And she could not go with him to the mysterious Veil.
A hollow emptiness filled her even as she struggled to hold on to her composure.
She would not make this difficult for Gideon, she swore to herself. He had given her too much to make him feel guilty for what he must do.
She would simply live for the moment and accept whatever he could offer.
Distracted by her dark thoughts, Simone paid little heed to their progress through town until the carriage came to a halt and she realized that they were in the mews behind Gideon’s home.
A renegade flare of excitement flared through her as she realized that their time together was to be prolonged.
Whatever he offered, she told herself, ignoring the tiny voice in the back of her mind that chided her scandalous behavior.
“You are very certain of your charms to bring me to your home at such an hour,” she attempted to tease in light tones.
“No.” He turned to regard her with a somber expression. “I just cannot bear to allow you out of my sight. I came far too close to losing you tonight.”
Her heart leaped at his words. “Oh.”
“Will you join me?”
She hesitated only a moment before giving a nod of her head. She might later regret her reckless behavior, but for now she needed to be with Gideon.
“If you wish.”
“With all my heart,” he murmured softly.
For a moment they gazed at one another in silence, then as a sleepy groom slowly shuffled toward the carriage, Gideon swiftly leaped down and moved to swing her to the ground.
In silence they moved toward the darkened house, using the same path she had used earlier to enter the kitchen and up the back stairs. It was not until they were in Gideon’s chamber and he was lighting a candle that her nerves at last made themselves known.
Pacing uneasily toward the window she cleared her throat. “It will soon be morning.”
“We have a few hours yet,” he murmured.
She turned to discover him regarding her with a watchful gaze.
“A few hours for what?” The words burst out before she could halt them.
He slowly smiled as he held out his hand. “Come, Simone.”