Vampire Mistress (9 page)

Daegan Rei turned an expressionless face toward him. “They turned her. They raped her, drank from her and turned her. She’s begun the transition. Without his blood to help her through it, she will go completely mad.” He spat to the side, well clear of Anwyn’s quivering body.

“His?”

“Three vampires did this to her, but only one turned her. Lift her up, gently.”

Daegan stripped off his black duster. Gideon slid his arms under Anwyn so the vampire could get the coat beneath her, wrap her up. An unconscious person, or partly conscious, was usually deadweight, but she seemed light to him, as if she was so much air that might pass through his fingers if he dared to hold her as tightly as he wished. But when he detected her unique scent, that fading fragrance, hidden deep beneath the stink of blood and pain, it was an effort not to crush her to his chest. Hold her in the shelter of his body and say,
I’m sorry
, over and over, like her plea to stop. It didn’t change anything, but it was always an involuntary compulsion, the childlike hope that such mantras might be heard, and the clock would turn back and all would be right again.

He helped Daegan get the coat securely around her, bringing warmth to her shivering, battered body. Her eyes continued to watch them both, refusing to close. Perhaps she was afraid they might disappear.

“Be easy,” Gideon murmured. “We’ve got you, and we’re not going anywhere. I swear it.” He thought she tightened her hand, a small victory. Her lashes drooped.

As one, the males began to lift her together. When they straightened, Gideon didn’t let go, but neither did the vampire. They stood close together in the alley, squared off like combatants, except for the cant and angles that allowed them to cradle Anwyn between them like a bird’s egg.

Daegan gave Gideon a hard stare. “You have known her one night, Gideon Green. She has been mine for five years.”

“If she was yours, she never would have been in this alley alone,” Gideon retorted. “You would have been in her head and known—”

Anwyn made a quiet sound of distress, a shudder going through her abused body. She shifted, turning more into Daegan’s hold. But she had a grip on Gideon’s shirt and didn’t let go.

“Fuck it, fine.”
Jesus.
Sliding his arm out from beneath her, he made sure Daegan had her. Carefully disengaging her hand, he folded it against her abdomen with a squeeze. The vamp adjusted his hold, bringing her closer to the shelter of his body. Leaving Gideon out in the cold, it had him clenching his hands at the loss.

What the hell was the matter with him? She needed him. He was acting like a kid being robbed of a favorite toy by the school bully.

“I’ll get the doors and clear a path,” he said shortly. “Most important thing is getting her to a bed.”

“No,” Daegan said, his grim tone foreboding. “It’s not. But we will tend to her first and then handle the most important thing.”

Daegan did have a cell phone, and he used it to call James. The man let them in through an isolated maintenance entrance, not the kitchens. After the man’s initial cursing, taking his share of the guilt they were all feeling, then his shock when Daegan let him into why they weren’t calling an ambulance, they headed for Anwyn’s private quarters, which were at the lowest level of Atlantis.

Gideon had learned on his first visit that the underground portion of Atlantis had been a parking garage. There’d apparently been two levels. While the upper one had been converted into the extreme play-ground he’d experienced, the bottom level was Anwyn’s home.

From the outside, he knew there was a private top living area for Atlantis, too, a rectangle of smoked glass that could be seen from the streets. Because it was smaller than the floor below it, and trees could be seen at the right angle, he suspected there was an outdoor area up there for sunning, perhaps a roof garden or even a pool. Maybe she’d spent time there when she wasn’t entertaining a vampire. But Anwyn would never experience it during daylight again. She hadn’t even had a chance to say good-bye to the sun.

The dimly lit tunnel through which they were passing had an array of equipment and maintenance storage for the BDSM club that offered everything to its clients. Beyond the extra chairs and booths, there were cases of chemical cleaners for sterilizing the toys and equipment, a couple open boxes of discarded whips, probably waiting for oiling. Restraints hung on pegs on the wall and there was the occasional whipping bench or St. Andrew’s cross in need of repair.

James gave the military signal to halt and wait in silence, and left them to scout the room they were about to cross. Daegan had made it clear no one could see her like this. Questions would certainly be tricky at this point, but Gideon wondered if it was more than that.

During their session, he’d been angry at her, threatened her once or twice, but he would have cut off his own hands before he crossed the line and done anything to break . . . whatever it was that had drawn him so strongly to her. It seemed Daegan, too, didn’t want anyone to see her in this state, as less than what she truly was.

“It’s clear,” James said, returning to hold the door open for them. “We should be able to cross through here, and take the accounting office corridor to her elevator. No one will be there this early in the morning.”

Gideon glanced back to see Daegan incline his head in acknowledgment. He and James held open the double doors so the vampire could pass through. Anwyn’s hair drifted across Gideon’s forearm, her face pressed to Daegan’s chest. He hoped she’d passed out, wasn’t worrying about anything right now. Her hands were curved over her breasts, like a baby trying to sleep in the womb, but she was still trembling.

“So you know what he is,” Gideon commented, as they fell in behind Daegan.

“Yes. I’m the only one, other than Miss Naime.” James’s face was hard and closed, not encouraging conversation. Gideon knew the security chief wouldn’t have been the one who leaked Daegan’s presence at the club to Barnabus. Though the staff might have no knowledge of what Daegan was, they were familiar with seeing him. Was that how Barnabus had tracked him here? And what business between them had led to this?

Living on the fringes of their existence, Gideon knew that vampire society was brutal. Hell, the main reason the Vampire Council had been formed was to impose rules that would keep bloodshed, both their own and human, to acceptable limits—by vampire standards. Even the goal of those rules was not more peaceful, crunchy-granola vampires, but to hide the truth of their existence from human scrutiny.

It pissed him off anew. Daegan had brought her into contact with his world, and hadn’t even imposed the protection of his marks upon her? She’d clearly stated no vampire had a claim on her. So what the hell
was
their relationship?

The business office area was deserted, as James had said, and they reached the elevator in a matter of a few strides. It appeared like a simple service elevator, but there was a security keypad. When James stepped aside so Daegan could shift his precious burden and enter the code, Gideon realized Anwyn allowed no one, even her security chief, access to her rooms. Only Daegan.

Daegan’s gaze swept over them, but before he could do what Gideon anticipated, he stepped into the elevator ahead of the vampire, held the door open and gave him a pointed look.
Not getting rid of me that easy, bastard
. He had no problem taking advantage of the fact that Daegan wouldn’t want to prolong their time at this level with an argument, in case another staff member appeared.

Daegan glanced at James and tilted his head, and the security chief stepped on with them, pressing the proper button. They all stared forward, and Gideon thanked whatever gods might listen that there was no elevator music. It would have been unbearable.

However, as short a trip as it was, he realized he wouldn’t have minded something that would cushion the sound of Anwyn’s ragged breath, evidence of her pain and distress. Her fingers were curled into Daegan’s shirt, white-knuckled and tight. She kept her face hidden against his chest. The smell of blood and vomit, the dregs of human suffering, quickly became apparent.

When the doors opened, they revealed a spacious sitting room with shelves of books and a gas log fireplace. Wide hallways leading from it showed snatches of a bedroom, a study with desk and computer, and a small TV and reading room. There was a kitchen over to the right, with a wide pass-through and bar area. No obvious alternative exits, but Gideon assumed she had to have a fire stairwell somewhere, probably with the same passkey protection.

Daegan was speaking to the security chief. “Transition times can vary. Start with a couple weeks. Come up with the proper explanations to cover her absence for that time period, and I’ll keep you informed about her progress. Hopefully, in a few days, she’ll be able to do so herself.”

Gideon’s attention sharpened. He’d assisted his brother’s transition with the help of Lord Mason, a vampire almost as old as Lyssa. Mason had said that transitions were pretty much all the same. There were several months of learning to control bloodlust, which was the vampire equivalent of raging hormones in a teen on Viagra, but with the sire’s blood, it was manageable. In a normal transition, she would likely be able to check on her staff and appear relatively normal for monitored excursions—very brief ones—within a short time period.

But this hadn’t been normal, had it? And they still didn’t have the sire’s blood. Jacob had needed a drop of Lyssa’s blood each day, but that was because of her age and strength. If this vamp was young, she’d need more than that. Fast.

“If I have need of you, I will call,” Daegan continued. He shifted his gaze to Gideon. “You can show Mr. Green to the door on your way up.”

“Not unless he’s dragging my dead body there.”

Gideon met the vampire stare for stare, making sure his own was as badass. Of course, without the element of surprise, he was outmatched in speed and strength, so he added logic to his defense. “You’re going to need help. You said the sire’s blood is needed. I can help you with that. I can help you watch over her, because you’re going to have to sleep during daylight hours, and James is going to have to keep things running up there.”

“She is becoming what you kill, vampire hunter. Forgive me if I will take my chances.”

“She didn’t ask for this. She’s a victim,” Gideon retorted. “I’m not going to stake her for something she couldn’t help.”

“Not right away, at least.” The caustic tone and Daegan’s forbidding countenance were a clear fuck-off, a threat he was obviously prepared to back up, but a ragged whisper intervened. “Both.”

Daegan shifted his attention to the woman in his arms. Giving Gideon a warning look, he brought her to the couch. When he took a knee beside her, retaining one of her hands, Gideon slid behind the couch to flank her other side. The flicker of Daegan’s lashes told him he was tracking his movements, but the vampire kept his dark eyes on her face. James had moved in a couple steps as well, his attention also trained on Gideon, reinforcing Daegan’s flank.

“What,
cher
?”

Her free hand lifted, but instead of moving toward Daegan, it floundered upward, toward the back of the couch. Catching it, Gideon leaned over so she could see him.

Her eyes were glazed with pain, but Gideon saw cognizance. Of course, with orientation would come the stabbing pain of memory. He never wanted her to relive what had happened to her tonight. With a gut-punch feeling, he recalled the brief shadow of fear, an unwelcome memory intruding into her blue-green eyes when he’d loomed over her in the Queen’s Chamber bathing area. Tonight was not the first night she’d been treated like this.

God, he was so sick of this fucking awful world.

“I want you both. Daegan . . . let him stay.”

Daegan’s attention slid over their clasped hands, rose to Gideon’s face. “Then he stays.”

Just like that. It startled Gideon, that the vampire didn’t try to talk her out of it or seem put out by her plea. In fact, his tone made it clear that, since it was what Anwyn wanted, it was no longer Gideon’s choice. Just like a vamp. Of course, not too long ago, he would have said a vampire had no feelings for a human, beyond the enthusiasm a kid might display at having an always-accessible Happy Meal. But that was before Lady Lyssa sacrificed almost everything to save his brother’s life. It hadn’t changed Gideon’s feelings toward vampires as a whole—what had been done to Anwyn was more often the rule—but it did make him warily willing to acknowledge this vampire might have some strong feelings when it came to Anwyn’s well-being and wishes.

It also didn’t change the fact that he was still a bloodsucking monster, and somebody with whom Anwyn never should have gotten mixed up. Obviously.

Her point made, Anwyn drew her hands away from them both, shifting to burrow against the couch back. Her body curled into a ball, her eyes closing.

Daegan’s dark gaze lifted back to Gideon and hardened. With a quick jerk of the head, he rose and drew Gideon and James to the corner of the room. “You stay at my discretion,” the vampire said low. “Do not piss me off.”