“Gideon, you old dog, you have taken a mate,” the Prince accused with humor sparkling from those fathomless eyes. “And I believe she finds me quite attractive.”
Gideon heard Legna gasp in shock and tried to repress a feral smile as he became aware of the burning blush she sprouted.
“I would not cross that particular line even as a joke, Damien,” Gideon warned him smoothly.
“My apologies. I could not resist.” Damien looked steadily into Gideon’s eyes for a moment. “She must be young, not to realize I would be able to read her presence within your mind.”
“She is young, but I would not underestimate her if I were you.”
Gideon’s confidence, which radiated throughout the statement, helped Legna regain her perspective and balance. She blew the image of a gentle kiss to him, making him smile.
“No, indeed,” the Vampire agreed. “You have come to ask me if I have betrayed your confidence, have you not?”
“I have. Outside of my people, you are the only one who knows the significance of the female Druid who is mated with our Enforcer. You know because I told you myself. I want you to tell me you had nothing to do with the brutal attack that was visited upon that same female. An attack that nearly resulted in the deaths of her and her unborn child.”
Damien’s entire countenance changed. The seductive humor and handsomeness faded just enough to allow fangs and animalistic ferocity to reflect in his blackening eyes.
“Who would commit such an atrocity?”
Legna felt the relief that ricocheted through Gideon. She knew, in that second, exactly what Gideon did. The Vampire had done nothing to harm Isabella.
“I am sorry I had to ask, Damien,” Gideon apologized with a heartfelt bow to his acquaintance.
The Vampire blew the apology aside with the wave of an elegant, long-fingered hand.
“Understandable, considering. You will be asking Siena about this, I take it?”
“Of course. Though this is not her style, it could be rebels from amongst her people. What of yours? Anything I should know?”
“Not really,” Damien mused, thinking on it a minute longer. “We have our outlaws, those who kill indiscriminately for the perversion of the pleasure death-fear gives them. But I believe they are too busy running from justice, avoiding the sun, and making their kills to be bothered with your politics and propagation.”
“I agree. I did not think there were Vampires present at the altercation site, but it does not hurt to be thorough.”
“Would you like me to speak with Tristan?”
Gideon shook his head negatively at the mention of the Shadowdwellers’ monarch.
“The attack was at sunset. Far too much daylight to have anything to do with them. But thank you for the offer.”
“I tell you what I will do, Gideon, as a return favor for your warning about the necromancers. I will get my Vanguard to scour the dens of the human Vampire hunters and see if they hear anything.”
“Thank you. That will be a help. Elijah is on a similar task. But I believe your intelligence on these people is much more complex and thorough than ours.”
“That is because you do not normally have anything to fear from normal humans who are without dark magic. You are too strong for that. However, while we are strong, we Vampires have that one weakness that humans can exploit far too easily. Being forced to sleep in paralyzed weakness during daylight makes the average human far more of a threat to the average Vampire, requiring us to have a deeper knowledge of their ways. At least you can fight your lethargy, can hear the approach of enemies, and can use your abilities at near full strength in spite of your sleep under the sun. Very few of my people can claim the power to do the same.”
“I understand that quite well,” Gideon reminded him.
“I was reiterating for your young female,” Damien said, showing a fanged smile and mischievous wink.
“You are never happy unless you are flirting with danger. A frightening quality in a leader of an entire species,” Gideon returned dryly.
“Nonsense. I am merely pleased with your good fortune. Enjoy her well, my friend. You have earned her.”
Gideon thanked the Vampire once more, then each gave a short bow to the other before the Vampire took to the sky with an enormously powerful leap. The Demon felt his mate watch the departure through his eyes with significant awe.
I have led a life far too sheltered, I am realizing, she mused to him.
One would think otherwise, having lived at the hub of our court all of your life. I am surprised you have not met Damien before this.
Well, as you previously noted, Noah has a way of making certain I am not present for volatile situations. I would say the Prince of the Vampires making a sojourn to the court of the King of the Demons would no doubt qualify.
I believe you are correct. Now, my beauty, we are ready for one more stop.
By all means, dearest.
Have I mentioned I love it when you say that?
As a matter of fact, you have.
Jacob moved slowly up the stairs, feeling weighted and tired. It was a struggle for the Enforcer to leave matters so close to his home and heart to others, but he trusted Elijah with every ounce of breath he drew, as well as with the life of his wife. The warrior simply adored Bella. How could he not? Jacob’s “little flower” had broken the warrior’s nose the very same instant she had met him. To Elijah, that was the ultimate quality in a good woman.
Jacob chuckled with that thought, feeling somehow lighter for it. He also realized he was changing his feelings about Gideon lately as well. The medic had never truly done anything outsiders would see as a great offense, but because he had earned Bella’s hostility at the start it had naturally gravitated into Jacob’s own heart.
Funnily enough, it was Bella who had begun to act with civility and honest appreciation toward the medic first. It was so like her to be that changeable, that forgiving and tolerant. It would have been impossible for her to trust the Ancient with the care of her health and the health of their baby otherwise. She had genuinely formed a sense of humor about the medic’s eccentricity of manners. It simply was not in Bella to hold grudges, especially when she understood the great gift Gideon was bestowing on them by lending his formidable skills to aid her pregnancy.
Jacob had wondered why that particular outlook had not rubbed off on him as easily as the irritation had. However, if he were to be honest with himself, it probably had a lot to do with the fact that Gideon constantly had his hands all over his mate. It was necessary, of course, but that did not change the instinctual hostility it created. Perhaps it was because Gideon was now Imprinted himself that there was a distinctive easing of his negative perspective toward him. There was comfort in the idea that they were now on equal footing, each understanding what the other was forced to feel, from a firsthand perspective.
Gideon had also performed a miracle saving the lives of his family, and Jacob was keenly aware of it. No one else would have been able to save both mother and child. This task alone indebted Jacob to Gideon and ingratiated Gideon to Jacob for the rest of their days.
Jacob entered his borrowed bedroom in Noah’s home, not bothering with the lights when he could see with perfect clarity without them. Bella was sleeping lightly, already stirring when she sensed him coming near. With a smile, Jacob began to whip up a surprise for her.
When Bella opened her eyes, it was because she was suddenly overwhelmed with the aroma of roses. She sat up, feeling rose petals cascading off of her torso as she did so. She laughed, scooping up handfuls of the luxuriant petals, rubbing them over her face and throat as she inhaled their potent fragrance.
“Jacob,” she murmured with pleasure.
Jacob scooped up more of the silky-soft flower parts, dumping them over her head as he took a seat beside her. She giggled, the first expression of her old humor he had heard since the attack. She had been so sad, so depressed, that it made his heart hurt. The simple parlor trick of
the flowers was worth gold if it made her laugh.
“Hello, little flower,” he greeted her, leaning forward to kiss her gently, the scent of roses lifting up from her warm skin and all around them.
“I love you,” she whispered, her hands cradling his face as she kissed him once more. “I love that you stay with me even though I know your heart aches to hunt for those who hurt me.”
“There will come a time, little love, when I will not be able to stay,” he said gently, touching her soft features in the dark with exquisite care.
“I wouldn’t expect you to, Jacob. Remember, there is a lioness in my heart as well. She will not be satisfied until she is a part of the destruction of those who tried to murder her young. And the only way I will achieve that now is by residing within your heart and your thoughts as you seek revenge for us both.”
Jacob nodded, utterly speechless as emotion choked him into silence. There was so much to feel, he couldn’t sort through it all. Love and hate, satisfaction and discontent, joy and rage. It all but destroyed him to hear words like “revenge” and “destruction” coming out of his sweet-natured mate’s mouth. She had been born to be a peacekeeper, an Enforcer of great laws, and an impressive warrior in her own right, but that she had reason to hate and to fear…Jacob felt even more keenly the sense that he had let her down. Darkness was his to deal with, his to protect her from, and he had failed. It stirred a red haze through his mind when he thought of it, when he felt it. She was there almost instantly, trying to soothe him and ease his frustration, but even her touch in his mind was weak and clearly exhausted. It was as if she was merely a shadow within him, and it simply should not be that way. She should be vibrant and overwhelming him with her energy and love, not this soft-spoken fragility that scraped at the interior of his heart.
“Oh, Jacob,” she sobbed softly, her weak body leaning against his as she wrapped slim arms around him. “Please,” she begged him, “please don’t let this destroy you. I need you so much. I need you here and at peace.”
“I will be here, little love,” he murmured into her hair, his voice aching with the tragic pain her tears caused within him. “But I will buy my peace with battle, Bella. For both of us. Once done, I will put it behind me.”
“Swear it to me, Jacob, because I know you can’t break your word. Especially not to me.”
“I swear it, Bella. I will bring us to our enemies, and then leave them on the ground behind us. I will not bring that darkness into our bed, near our child, or anywhere where it will fester. I will come to you with a clear mind, heart, and soul. I swear it to you with all of my love.”
“I love you, Jacob,” she said softly, hugging him tightly, knowing full well that the only thing that would clear his mind, heart, and soul would be their retribution.
Gideon sat crouched in the shadow of a large boulder, his breath white and hard on the freezing air of the bare start of a Siberian spring. He was not dressed for such weather, but it did not matter. He regulated his body temperature as a secondary thought, a shimmer of warmth visible as it lifted away from the exposed skin around his face and neck. He absently tugged a glove tighter into place on his hand as he watched the activity of the village below him. He easily sensed the pulses of about a hundred creatures, all upright, bipedal and fourlegged varieties. He did not dare to skulk for long because he would be spotted and a point of suspicion if he did. He was able to track the mammalian forms of the Lycanthropes around him well enough, but it became more difficult when they took cold-blooded or avian forms. Any animal around him could Lycanthrope, and he would not sense them all.
A true Lycanthrope could exist in three stages. A single animal of any species imaginable was the first. There was a human form for the second, indistinguishable from any normal mortal who could not see beneath the skin and into their genetic make-up. Most Demons could tell just by their scent that they were not truly human. Gideon suspected this was probably true of other Nightwalkers as well. The third and final form was the Lycanthropic form, a combination of the first and second, the specific animal and the specific human usually as large as a human but sporting the specific attributes of the Lycanthrope’s animal form, like the fur and claws if it was a bear, or fangs and wings if it was a bat.
These were the classic forms humans referred to as werewolves. But what most humans did not realize was that Lycanthropes were not just limited to the form of the wolf. In fact, there was hardly an animal that was not represented amongst the Lycanthrope populace.
Gideon could alter his body chemistry to blend in with the scents around him, a glamour that only the most powerful Lycanthropes would be able to see through. He did so as his boots slid down the steep path leading into the narrow valley that housed the village. It was deceptively quaint. Gideon could see that there was method to its placement and its sturdy construction. It was made to withstand the inhospitable weather of a Russian winter, but it also would withstand any form of attack if necessary.
As a rule, Lycanthropes were never far from a variety of armory. Lycanthropes were not chemically adverse to technology, as Demons were. Demons were also not the focus of self-appointed human werewolf hunters. If there was a Nightwalker more well-known to human mythology than Vampires, it was the Lycanthropes. As a result, both races were plagued by those who were overzealous in their attempts to prove the myth was real and to kill the mythical monsters as if it would make them heroes of equally mythic proportions.
Though Lycanthrope natural attacks were formidable on their own, when dealing with overzealous hunters and the like, it was always wise to fight firearm with firearm, so to speak. The Lycanthropes were wise enough not to bring a pair of claws to face an enemy with a gun. They would not have survived long as a species in this era of high technological weaponry had they not understood that basic fact.
Gideon walked around the edges of Siena’s village until he was approaching her residence, which consisted of a remarkably camouflaged cave. As he passed the guards, he greeted them coolly. As far as they realized, he carried the scent of Lycanthropy and therefore belonged there.
Siena’s residence was a cavern more than it was a cave. More so, it wasn’t even simple enough to be called an ordinary cavern. It had been carved out of the center of a mountain and shaped into a breathtaking edifice made completely over into the grandeur of a castle, allowing for an enormity and artistry that included multiple levels and conveniences like light and plumbing. It was all carved out of a reddish brown stone, a massive task that must have taken decades to complete. It was a flawless design, just as Gideon remembered it. The only obvious access to the Queen’s castle was by way of that one demure entrance. It could be blocked and guarded off in a heartbeat, protecting the entire village and the Queen’s household if necessary. There were outer houses around the castle bailey, just as if it were under a sky instead of a mountain, like any other castle from history. It only lacked the unnecessary moat and portcullis to protect it. It was enough of a fortress and did not need those things to help it.
Gideon walked on, entering the castle common room with confidence and a familiarity that came rushing back to him as he remembered the mapping of rooms and the graceful carvings so painstakingly ground into the stone walls around him. Even the common room was decorated lushly, reflecting Siena’s wealth and penchant for the finer things in life. It was a great improvement from the last time he had attended this court. Tapestries, artwork, rich carpeting, and elegant touches of the like that had not been there thirteen years before…before Siena had ascended to the throne. The reception area was twice as large as Noah’s Great Hall, but it no longer echoed so easily against its own walls as people moved through it as he was doing.
It had been easy to gain entry to the immediate common room, but it would be a different matter completely to get closer to Siena, Gideon understood. The Lycanthrope Queen was no fool. She would not have the access points that led closer to her guarded by anyone less than older, highly skilled Lycanthropes capab
le of seeing through simple Demon glamours with the mere sniff of a keen nose. Luckily, he was no simple Demon. This, of course, was what Elijah had realized, and had been counting on, when he had chosen Gideon for this dangerous task. No one else would be able to do what he was about to accomplish.
What will you do now?
Just watch. And be very quiet. Lycanthropes have a great variety of abilities, some of which would surprise you. The less you give away, the better.
After what happened with Damien, I believe you, she whispered before falling silent.
He was aware that she did not back away in any other manner, though. She was tense, ready for any possibility, determined to protect him however she could if it came to that. It turned his spirit into a tight spiral of pleasure to feel it, to feel her powerful instinct to protect him. It meant that she was coming to care for him, whether she was ready to admit to that or not. The idea delighted him, far more than he had expected it to.
Gideon tucked it all aside for later examination, though. He needed to stay completely focused on what he was doing. Lycanthrope territory was still, for many intents and purposes, a hostile territory. The war had ended only thirteen years hence, after three hundred years of squabbling and outright attacks led by Siena’s father. The previous King had been a warlord, satisfied only when he was battling for property, wealth, or position. But his type was never satisfied. When Demons had proved unbeatable after he had spent years antagonizing them, he had satisfied himself with being a constant burr in Noah’s side. Kidnappings, marauding, all forms of torture and hassle, until Noah realized that centuries had gone by and there was not a Lycanthrope alive who had not been tainted by the propaganda against Demons. There would never be peace, not even after the warlord died, if there was no intervention.
And so he had sent Gideon into the King’s prisons.
Gideon Page 19
