Part 28 (1/2)

All the items in these rooms had meanings and significance, things that identified them as Daegan's and Anwyn's. He'd seen into their minds, when they'd let him, and he'd had a precious few weeks to experience being a part of them. Maybe being one of those items, in a weird way.

For just a minute, he wished he had direct access to Daegan's mind, so he could figure out . . . something. Appalled with himself, he realized he was doing exactly what she'd implied, appealing to one ”parent” about what the other had done. Besides, Daegan had d.a.m.n well known this was coming. That was why he hadn't said anything. Oh yeah, he'd say some reasonable bulls.h.i.+t, too, only for Daegan it would be about giving Anwyn the free will to handle her choice of servant the way she saw fit. But either way, he no longer had to share her with Gideon, did he?

Shut up. He swore at himself viciously. None of that made any sense, but he knew empty lies to himself to keep him p.i.s.sed off were better than acknowledging the truth, the pain he'd seen in her face, the tears threatening behind her eyes. The quiet sadness he'd caught in Daegan's expression these past few days, as if the vampire would change the outcome if he could. He swore at himself viciously. None of that made any sense, but he knew empty lies to himself to keep him p.i.s.sed off were better than acknowledging the truth, the pain he'd seen in her face, the tears threatening behind her eyes. The quiet sadness he'd caught in Daegan's expression these past few days, as if the vampire would change the outcome if he could.

But Anwyn had made it clear. Only Gideon could change it. d.a.m.n it, this was the way he was. If they couldn't accept that, then f.u.c.k them. He was done. He could be whatever she needed, within certain boundaries, but that wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want him.

More lies.

Though it felt like he was going to his own execution, Gideon left the apartment, let the door close behind him. Walking up the corridor through accounting and maintenance, he avoided the higher-traffic areas, headed for the alley exit that would take him out of Atlantis and the strangely welcome reality he'd found there.

Home and family.

Bulls.h.i.+t. Bulls.h.i.+t. Bulls.h.i.+t. He summoned the rage, but it didn't hold against the other s.h.i.+t. h.e.l.l, she was right. He'd never been cut out for this, and though it hurt like h.e.l.l to leave her behind, she'd been the smart one, right? She was going to be fine now. She and Daegan both. They didn't need him. She'd gotten through the Council. Yeah, maybe she'd still have the seizures, but . . . f.u.c.k it, she'd said she could do without him, so fine. Her well-being was no longer his concern, right? He summoned the rage, but it didn't hold against the other s.h.i.+t. h.e.l.l, she was right. He'd never been cut out for this, and though it hurt like h.e.l.l to leave her behind, she'd been the smart one, right? She was going to be fine now. She and Daegan both. They didn't need him. She'd gotten through the Council. Yeah, maybe she'd still have the seizures, but . . . f.u.c.k it, she'd said she could do without him, so fine. Her well-being was no longer his concern, right?

He put his fist into the brick wall, was somewhat amazed when it crumbled, though his knuckles vibrated with the pain of impact. There. He'd made his mark. Maybe sometime she'd be out here, feeding her cats, and her hand would drift over it, feel his lingering presence.

d.a.m.n it. Yeah, he was mad right now. But he did care. He wasn't that much of an a.s.s. When push came to shove, it was the right thing. He'd always known it. Maybe one day he'd even be okay thinking about them, and it wouldn't feel like this, like he wanted to howl and rage, tear something apart. Only he couldn't figure out what. Yeah, he was mad right now. But he did care. He wasn't that much of an a.s.s. When push came to shove, it was the right thing. He'd always known it. Maybe one day he'd even be okay thinking about them, and it wouldn't feel like this, like he wanted to howl and rage, tear something apart. Only he couldn't figure out what.

As Gideon shouldered his duffle and headed out the side alley, the alley where he'd found her that terrible night, Anwyn watched him from the second-story level of the club, her office on the main floor. When he put his fist in the wall, she flinched.

She guessed she'd advanced to the head of the cla.s.s on hiding her feelings from him, because inside she was beating on the bars of her own mind as violently as she'd fought her restraints during her transition. That part of her was begging the cold, efficiently closed-down part of her to lift the gate, let her say a better good-bye. It was like watching her heart walk away.

It was no surprise to feel Daegan's hands close on her shoulders. She didn't let herself break, though, just quivered under his touch and watched the tall, dangerous-looking man walk away and disappear around the corner.

”He wouldn't listen. He's telling himself that we've rejected him. That I don't want him.” She laid her hand on the gla.s.s, over the receding figure just before he vanished.

Daegan's hand covered hers, his fingers pressing to the pane between the s.p.a.ces. ”You knew he needed to leave us to make up his mind, cher cher. You saw it in his mind. He needs time. You both do.”

He was so f.u.c.ked-up, their vampire hunter with so much rage and a heart of gold. She was his last sanctuary. Hadn't Daegan said something like that? But she'd just sent him out into the cold, knowing all he'd face was his own desolation, and he might not have the ability to work his way through it.

She locked her jaw against the fear, the threatening tears. She couldn't keep him, couldn't protect him from himself. Not until he wanted that, was ready to accept it. To deal with that pain, she would ruthlessly shut that curtain between their minds, dedicate herself to reinforcing it until she at last perfected a complete block. The best way to deal with a drug was a full withdrawal. If she couldn't hear his thoughts anymore, the pain would fade. She could handle it. She would. She wouldn't worry every waking moment about what he was doing, if he was okay. If she'd sent him to his death, the kind of death that came with blank despair.

The shadow creatures laughed.

And kept laughing, getting louder and louder, until she did her best to tear them out of her head, using her hands or whatever solid surface presented itself. She knew she made it worse because she struggled to keep her mind closed even as she fought those monsters, but she didn't want Gideon to know. If he came back to help her, she'd only give in, do the wrong, easy thing, and be forced to reenact the same scene again, a few months down the road. Then it would be even worse, though she couldn't imagine anything that felt worse than this now.

As she screamed and thrashed, Daegan took over the wall, made her understand he'd coc.o.o.ned her mind so she didn't have to worry about Gideon knowing. Then she let go, let the blackness take her.

A few b.l.o.o.d.y and violent hours later, she found herself with Daegan, back in her apartment belowground. He held her between his knees on the floor. With his arms tight around her, she buried into him and sobbed, trying to ignore the frightening fact she'd let an essential part of her soul go.

She wasn't sure how much soul she had left to spare.

20.

SOON after leaving, Gideon felt a disturbance from her. Before he could respond to her distress, an instinct he didn't question, he'd felt something else. Her destructive and excessive effort to keep him shut out of her head, a clear message that she didn't need his help. Then a block, a sense of Daegan that told him he'd helped her.

Once the dust settled, the connection with her remained, even though it was like an abandoned room, whispering with past voices, nothing left of the present. To get away from it, the first thing he did was drive halfway across the country. He knew that most vampire mind-link ranges were within a thousand miles, much less for a fledgling, so as he kept a loose hand on the wheel of the old Nova, he let the rhythmic thump of the asphalt beneath the turning tires drown out the whispers in that abandoned room. As they died away, it made it easier not to strain to hear them, to see if maybe one of those whispers was talking to him, asking him to come back.

There was a vampire in Seattle who'd taken twenty kills the previous year, and that was his first target. Once he got into town, found the usual dive where he could sleep and plan, he set up his prey as he always did. A couple of weeks later, he made the kill, then threw up afterward. It made him savagely angry, such that he destroyed the shack where he'd cornered the vamp, tearing down boards and risking electrocution from the faulty wiring before he set it on fire, a wooden pyre on top of the body.

It wasn't long after that he had the insidious, tempting thought. He should kill another vamp like Trey. Daegan would come looking for him. Gideon could see him, maybe smell Anwyn's lingering scent on the vampire, feel the warm touch of her mind one last time before Daegan ended him. Losing a servant had been described as leaving an aching hole in a vampire's soul, but Gideon was sure she'd fill it with someone far more appropriate in no time.

He refused to think about the things she said, but he wasn't stupid. In hindsight, Gideon knew she'd done what she thought was best, even if he couldn't bring himself to face or believe the reasons she'd given. He knew it had hurt her. As a result, him being taken out would likely be for the best. Then she wouldn't have to suffer guilt or anything else. He didn't want her to worry about anything, not ever again. He was too f.u.c.ked-up for anyone, anyhow. He'd just forgotten that for a little while, and it had made him mad to be reminded of it. Really wasn't her fault.

His brother called several times, but Gideon never answered. One night he tossed the phone out the car window and watched it shatter on the gravel shoulder. He didn't know who or what to be anymore, so he'd just be nothing and n.o.body. A shadow even more ghostlike than Daegan himself. A being that wanted no name, no soul, nothing that would make him feel or care or suffer loneliness. He'd reached the end of the road. The only thing left was what kind of cliff he'd drive over.

Daegan paused in the sitting room doorway and considered the woman on the couch. He pushed down his frustration, knowing it wouldn't be useful. She was making steps backward, showing little interest in going above, and it was not all because of her grief over Gideon. Whether that was the catalyst, or the lack of Gideon's steadying physical balance as her servant, the convulsions were back to at least once a day, sometimes twice, the emotional stress overriding Brian's best efforts. She was losing the newborn confidence she'd just started to have.

He knew several ways to address her issues, but he expected none of them would meet her approval. Of course, her will be d.a.m.ned, he was fast moving into territory where he would railroad over her if he needed to do so. She'd been reading the same d.a.m.n book for the past hour, and hadn't turned a page. He could look into her mind, except it was usually in the same place. A vacant drifting, as if she'd become an oblivious kitchen wench, tending a simmering cauldron of her anguish. The shadow gremlins, as she called them, were eager children, dancing about and waiting to tip it over once again.

Last night, she'd immersed herself in what seemed like better thoughts. The touch of Gideon's mouth, the sweep of Daegan's hands over her back, the feel of them inside her, grounding her to earth, holding her connected to them so she wouldn't get lost . . . But she'd drifted away to dreams rather than turn to him.

Her shoulders stiffened as she realized he was there, and that irritated him most of all. It was time to take this bull by the horns, on various fronts, but he would start with the most immediate one.

”You need to consider a new servant,” he said, taking a seat at the end of the couch so she had to look at him directly if she raised her gaze. She didn't. ”He's been gone a month, Anwyn. Give yourself that gift. James is a prime candidate. He's a widower, and he knows what you are. And he's trained. At least a second mark, to start.”

”I didn't do the right thing, Daegan.”

”Yes, you did.”

”No, I didn't.” She surged off the sofa in a sudden movement, throwing the book aside. ”I was so p.i.s.sed off at him for rejecting me, rejecting us, keeping us at arm's length. He was right. I forced him to choose before he was ready. G.o.d, he had no time to adjust to any of it, and I threw him out because of my own selfish hurt. I was just as bad as he was. He needed us. I felt it in everything he did. That's what he was fighting, and instead of giving him that time-”

”Anwyn, G.o.dd.a.m.n it.” He rose as quickly as she did, forcing her to look at him despite the fact she bared her fangs in an aggressive, instinctive reaction. He held her by the shoulders, waiting until she got it under control. It tore at her, as it always did, the inescapable truth that part of her mind didn't belong to her anymore, that it could make her do violent things she didn't expect. Before she sent Gideon away, she'd been learning to accept that, not exacerbating it as she was now by keeping herself on too tensile a leash. With Gideon, she'd trusted herself more.

So while Daegan suffered for her, he couldn't help being vampire, which meant tolerance wasn't limitless for him. He gave her a quick shake, snapping her attention to him. ”You're doubting yourself because you're hurting, but you thought about it for days before you gave him the choice, cher cher. h.e.l.l, from the very beginning you resisted making him your servant for those very reasons. Even if your emotions coated your decision, it wasn't why you made the decision you did. You're a Mistress before you're anything else, even a vampire. You know that.”

She closed her eyes, but he refused her that, tipping her chin up roughly enough to bring her focus back to his face, the truth there.

”That skill told you he was ready to face the choice. Learning how to deal with the acceptance, and the acceptance itself, are two different things, and it was past time for him to face the latter. You knew it. You know better than most women what drives a man, what makes him break and run, what brings him to his knees.

”What makes you an incomparable Mistress in Atlantis is you're like the d.a.m.n Three Fates. You always know the right timing. You know when when a man needs that catalyst, to force him to let it all go and be the essence, the very best and worst, of who he is. To face it, accept it and walk out of the doors of Atlantis a more whole man than he walked in. a man needs that catalyst, to force him to let it all go and be the essence, the very best and worst, of who he is. To face it, accept it and walk out of the doors of Atlantis a more whole man than he walked in.

”You let him go, because in addition to being a Mistress, you're a vampire. You could see deep into his mind, and knew if you kept him here, he would kill his soul and yours, trying to fight that edge in himself and 'settle' for you as a vampire.”

She shook her head. She'd put her hands on his chest to push against him, but now her fingers dug into his s.h.i.+rt, held him as an anchor. He relished the far-too-infrequent instance of a spontaneous touch even as he ached at the pain he felt behind it.

”As a Mistress, I relied more on intuition, what I 'felt' from a man. As a vampire, with Gideon as my servant, I had the option of delving into his mind. Maybe I didn't give him a choice. Maybe I took it. Because I saw the way he thought now, and believed that's what he'd always think. I didn't listen to what Brian told me. All of us, we're always evolving in our opinions and beliefs, based on wants and needs that change and grow. It's something fluid . . . intuitive. I could know everything in Gideon's, and still miss it. There's a part of him he has to give to me willingly, or I'll never understand it.”

A soft smile touched Daegan's mouth then as he gazed into her suffering eyes. ”Something I realized about you a long time ago, cher cher. It took me seven hundred years to learn what you have learned in less than a handful of weeks.” But as despair gripped her expression, he gave her another little shake.