Vampire Trinity (46 page)

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Authors: Joey W. Hill

BOOK: Vampire Trinity
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“I know that. Hey, I do. Relax.” When she glared at him, he cupped the side of her face. “You’re the scariest thing I’ve ever met. But I still think of you as my baby. Just as Daegan does. No denying it, even if you kick our asses over it.” He teased her lips with a finger until she gave him an irritated look and snapped at him. Then the fight went out of her and she had her arms around him, holding him so tightly he thought he might have heard his ribs creak. He didn’t mind, holding her back the same way.
“I was afraid of losing it in there,” she murmured. “So afraid, because if I lost it, I knew I might lose you. I hated it.”
“For a moment or two, I think all three of us were ready to open a can of hurt on that group of losers. We would have all gone down together. Shhh . . .” He pressed his head down on hers, twisted his hands so her hair curled around his wrists, both holding her fast and making her feel he’d attached himself to her, a silken tether. He was starting to know how this particular Mistress worked, how she reacted to the reminder of her slave’s devotion and nearness.
“You think you’ve got me all figured out.”
“I’ll never do that, but I’m picking up clues. Why don’t you think you’re deserving, Anwyn? What’s going on with that?”
“It doesn’t matter, Gideon. Just let it drop.”
“Everything about you matters.”
It made her mouth soften, but her fingers were clamped together, her body tense, as she leaned back in his arms, lifted her face to look up at him. Unfortunately, that little shift inappropriately woke another part of his body, the one that had been revved up in high gear during the dinner but not allowed to release. It woke to full, impressive life against her soft buttocks. He winced. “Sorry.”
“No apologies needed. I might have a use for that.” She gave him a feline smile, but he pushed the lust that infused his brain aside and tried to focus on the point at hand.
“We’re not talking about me. Whatever this is about, does Daegan know?”
“No. Well. I guess he could find out now, if he wanted to do so.” She sighed. “Fine. I guess withholding it turns it into this big dramatic moment, and I don’t deserve that, either. Plus, it was a long time ago.”
But her muscles refused to relax. He caressed her back, squeezed her. “Please tell me.”
She closed her eyes. “You remember, a while back, I told you my aunt and uncle took us in, like yours did. But my uncle . . . you know.”
“Yeah.” His fingers flexed on her, a reassurance and protective anger at once.
“I had a younger sister. Beatrice. I called her Trice.” She shifted, rubbed a palm over the side of her face as if something was irritating her there. “I don’t want to draw this out. Long story short, as I told you, my uncle was a sleazebag who liked young girls, preferably those who’d just hit puberty. I was thirteen and didn’t quite understand what he wanted until one night when my aunt was gone. He pinned me down, tearing at my clothes. Trice hit him with a bat. I was so frightened, I ran.”
“Good.” Gideon relaxed his fingers from the fists that wanted to smash into the uncle’s face, but then he saw her expression. She shoved out of his lap, moved away, her fingers raking through her hair. This time he let her go, sensing her need for space.
“No, it wasn’t. I
ran
. My uncle was enraged, aroused, and he had something to prove. He raped my little sister. She was
nine
. Nowhere near puberty. She’d just started envying the fact I could wear a bra and she couldn’t yet. Liked using my makeup, trying on my clothes, imagining how she’d look in them eventually.” Her voice broke, but then she got it under control by dropping to a lower octave. It made her sound more savage. Her fingers were claws, digging into her biceps as she wrapped her arms around herself. “She fought him. She was brave where I wasn’t, my nine-year-old sister, and though he raped her, she kept fighting him. He hit her in the face, over and over, to get her to submit. He broke her neck, and she died.”
“Oh, son of a bitch. Anwyn.” He rose, wanting to hold her again, but she shook her head, looked at him with such glassy-eyed vehemence he knew she was shoving back tears, an emotion she also didn’t think she deserved.
“I
ran
, Gideon. When I did, I discovered there is nothing as horrible, not in the entire world, as failing someone when they truly need you. There’s no pain or fear that matches that, even if you think so at the time. Right?”
As their gazes held, he remembered a girl in a yellow dress soaked with blood, who’d begged him not to leave her, but he had. She’d died alone among the stink of fear and monsters lingering in the shadows. Coming back to that, and to her still body, had chilled him in the marrow of his bones, such that he wasn’t sure they’d ever know warmth again. “Yeah,” he said.
“So what happened to me in that alley, I hated it. It was horrible. This . . . inability to control what’s happening to my body, that’s almost unbearable. But I would endure it all over again, every day. Hell, I’d let Fate magnify it ten times, if I could turn back time, go back to that moment and not run. To take what she did, so she’d still be alive. Which means I
can
endure all of this. And I will.”
She straightened, looking fierce and endearing to him at once in her strength and fragility. It broke his heart when she tightened her jaw and extended a hand, lacing her fingers in a knot with his that held, a shared bond. “I’ll not only endure it; I will continue to live my life and be everything I want to be, because that’s the gift my sister gave me. Daegan is right. To even indulge for a moment the idea of giving up, taking my life or just dying . . . I abhor that this can make me feel that way most of all.” She gazed at their clasped hands. “But one thing a Domme knows is that you can’t control everything you think or despair. You can only do your best to get past it. To keep getting past it, and live in the moment every day. That’s what I remember when anything gets too awful. To live in the moment if it’s good, or remember that it’s
only
a moment if it’s bad.”
“Okay,” he said quietly. “But you need to get past this idea that you don’t deserve it, that somehow your sister hates you for what you did.” He saw that in her mind, too strong and illuminated to ignore, though she gave him a reproachful look for the breach of privacy. He pressed forward, though. “People, at the root of it, they just . . . When it comes down to pain, it’s different.”
He rubbed a hand over his face, realizing generalities weren’t going to cut it. “There was this one vamp I killed. It was one of those that Daegan mentioned before, where it was self-defense on my part, and he had a female servant.” He swallowed, the memory still a tough one, but this was for Anwyn’s comfort, not his. “Sometimes it takes two or three minutes for the servant to die after the vamp does. I ended up staying with her, holding her hand until she passed, lying on his chest.”
He lifted his gaze to hers. “I’m supposed to hate her for the fact she chose to be the servant of a guy who did unspeakable things, but when she looked at him, she didn’t see that. It didn’t mean she was right, or less blind, but when she needed a hand to hold while dying, because she was afraid, I couldn’t deny her that. And in that moment, she didn’t seem to mind her last comfort came from her killer. Things are always more complicated, and less complicated, than we think they are. Wherever your sister is, she loves you, and she’s hoping like hell you’re happy, because she knows you deserve it. I don’t have to know anything else about her to know that. Because I know she loved you. There’s just no way she didn’t.”
Tears filled her eyes. Her chin firmed again, holding them in, the fragility and strength warring against each other so fiercely. He knew she needed that battle, so he let her have it, though he suffered watching it. She didn’t move for long moments, and he didn’t disturb her, merely holding that connection as she found that balance she needed between the horror of her memories and the volatility of their present, and how she would rise above both. He would give her whatever strength she needed to do both, and so was content to stand there as long as she needed him to do so.
Her gaze lifted to him, her eyes telling him she heard his thoughts. She had a personal struggle about that as well, thoughts he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear. But as her lips parted to speak what he was trying to avoid reading, they heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor.
Both of their heads turned immediately toward the door. Anwyn slanted Gideon a smile, the shadows of her past lingering but obviously already being drawn back into the corners of her mind, where he knew she’d bury them even deeper than her gremlins could find. “Look at the two of us. We both perked up like a pair of spaniels, didn’t we?”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to be a more masculine breed.”
“How about an ox?” she asked sweetly, and then fended off his pinch with an indignant swat as Daegan came through the door.
“I see being flogged half to death hasn’t taught him any more respect,” he remarked.
Gideon didn’t bother to retort, more concerned about what he saw in Daegan’s face, the taut lines around his sensual mouth. His dark hair was spiked, as if he’d been raking it. Anwyn went to him, rising on her toes to smooth down the strands.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“As we thought, Brian was at the dinner because of what Vincent witnessed. Belizar demanded a full report from him after he met with you.”
Gideon’s eyes narrowed. “Did he tell Belizar about his time with us before?”
“No.” Daegan shook his head. “Brian confined his report to the present. He made it clear the condition was manageable, as long as Anwyn had my continued supervision as sire. He smoothly noted he already had some ongoing research, some injections that he thought would keep her functioning quite well. Unfortunately, the Council tends to turn information to their own objectives.”
“We met their tests, and it pissed them off. They want somebody to suffer, to feel like they still hold the upper hand.” Gideon saw the truth in Daegan’s gaze as Anwyn let out a creative and very unladylike curse.
“Us torturing Gideon in front of them wasn’t enough suffering? Are these people all psychopaths?”
“A servant suffering isn’t really suffering,” Gideon said shortly, so Daegan wouldn’t have to say it. Calm readiness descended on his body, as if it already knew a fight was ahead. “So what’s the bullet?”
Daegan swept his gaze over them both. “Lord Uthe pointed out that someone with this type of uncontrollable affliction would be an automatic addition to my termination list.”
Gideon scowled. “They’re not touching her.”
“That was also my reaction.”
You know what needs to be done, and you are refusing to do it.
Lord Belizar had said it in such a perfectly reasonable voice, and Daegan had reasonably noted he would disembowel anyone who thought about hurting her. Gideon’s assessment was correct. They wouldn’t be happy until they’d had him do something against all his principles, to prove his loyalty to them. Which meant they were in danger of losing it forever.
“So what do we do now?”
“I leave.”
“What?” They spoke in unison. Gideon straightened while Anwyn’s brow creased.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded.
“After I refused to allow a discussion of Anwyn’s termination, Belizar ordered me to perform a task while they deliberate. There’s a rogue nest, fifty miles above Berlin. They’ve been preying on small towns. Reliable sources have provided their location for the next several days. This group is much like Barnabus,” he reassured them. “They’re made vampires, loose cannons, easy enough for me to dispatch. But taking care of a housekeeping matter in the Council’s backyard will prove useful to their state of mind.”
“You’re not this stupid.” Gideon stepped forward, anger in every line of his body. “Belizar’s getting you out of the way to take care of Anwyn and me while you’re gone.”
Daegan shook his head again. “This is no longer about the two of you. It is clear to them that you both belong to me, so it is about my loyalty to the Council. And I do not go based on my trust in Belizar. I trust Uthe. I flatly refused to go on the assignment until I had you safely returned home. However, Belizar insists on more discussion of Anwyn’s seizures, given our track record with other made vampires with erratic behaviors. Uthe gave me his personal guarantee of your safety until I return, and he will post Brian here as a round-the-clock watch on you.” He inclined his head to Gideon. “I trust Uthe’s word. He is the one who loved my mother.”
Gideon paused. “So what I said . . .”
“There was an element of truth to it, though I still take exception to the phrasing. However, as I’m sure your brother has told you, of all the Council members, Uthe holds the most honor and integrity.” A grim smile touched Daegan’s mouth. “Once, a long, long time ago, Uthe was a Templar. He’s never left those principles behind. He also mentioned if I show my trust in the Council by leaving you in their hands while doing this, it’s likely the older members will be sufficiently mollified to confirm my guardianship of Anwyn, with frequent reports on her status.”
“We should just leave,” Anwyn said. “I hate all of them. I don’t care about their approval. I’ll take the consequences of that.”

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