Knowing it was useless, she tried to open the link between herself and Gideon. She had tried and failed every night for the last week and a half. Tonight would probably be no different, but she couldn’t give up.
As usual, her efforts were in vain. There was nothing there, just an aching emptiness. Maybe if she concentrated harder? Closing her eyes, she pictured him in her mind—tall and dark and dangerous, with inky black hair and enigmatic gray eyes. A man more handsome than any other she had ever known. Gideon. She recalled what it was like to be in his embrace—the strength of his arms around her, his mouth covering her own, his body arousing her until the rest of the world faded away and there was just the two of them.
She moaned softly, wishing he was with her now. Heat suffused her skin as she imagined him holding her, touching her. Imagined touching him in return, her hands exploring the hard length of his body, her fingers tangling in his hair while their tongues mated… .
Damn, woman, what are you trying to do to me!
Her eyes flew open at the sound of his voice, so real, so close, she glanced over her shoulder, expecting to find him there.
Gideon?
I’m here
.
Relief poured out of her in a long, shuddering sigh.
I’ve been so worried about you.
I’m fine, Kiya. Stop worrying. How are you?
I’m good. I’m at home.
Home? With your pack?
Yes. My father brought me here. Verah escaped from Victor’s place.
Yeah, I heard that.
Where are you?
Where I need to be.
You need to be here, with me.
The sound of his laughter filled her mind and warmed her heart.
I’ll be there soon. In the meantime, take care of yourself
.
Don’t go!
I’ll be in touch. I love you, Wolfie. Stay safe
.
You, too.
Before she could say anything else, he was gone.
Kay frowned. What had Gideon meant when he’d said he was where he needed to be?
Gideon rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. Whatever happened, however this turned out, he wouldn’t regret it as long as it ensured Kay’s well-being. In 360 years, he had never loved a woman the way he loved her. Nothing had even come close. He had seduced women, made love to them, even courted a few, but it had always been a game, a way to pass the time, to satisfy a lust even more primal than the hunger that plagued him. But Kay was different. He had known it the moment he woke and saw her huddling in a corner of the cage. She had been afraid, he had smelled the fear on her, yet she’d never let it show. She had even made a joke about vampires and how he was just “doing what comes naturally,” when he preyed upon those Verah had brought him.
He sat up straighter when he heard the witch’s footsteps coming down the stairs. Moments later, she was standing outside his cell, a familiar goblet in one hand, her favorite dagger in the other.
“So soon?” he asked. “You’re still looking good.”
“How nice of you to say so,” she said dryly. “But I can feel it wearing off, and I’d prefer to have some on hand as soon as I need it. Besides, orders were piling up while I was away.” She moved to the left side of the cage and knelt down. “Hold out your arm.”
Chains rattling, he did as bidden, then watched impassively as she jabbed the silver-bladed dagger into the large vein in his wrist. Blood flowed freely from the wound, quickly filling the jewel-encrusted cup.
When she withdrew the blade, the wound closed. “There,” she said, “that should last a while.”
Gideon met her satisfied gaze. The silver and the bloodletting weakened him physically, but he still had enough power to compel mortals. And, witch or not, Verah was mortal. It took only moments to implant a suggestion in her mind, and then he looked away.
Brow furrowed, the witch stared into the cup. She dipped her finger into the dark red fluid, then licked it off. “You know,” she said, “the next time I need to drink your blood, I think I’ll take it right from the source.”
Gideon slid his arm between the bars, palm up. “Why wait? If you drink it while it’s warm and fresh, it’ll taste better and the effects will last longer.”
She tilted her head to one side, as if considering his words, then reached for his arm. As if moving in slow motion, she dragged the dagger across his wrist. She leaned forward, her long blond hair falling over her shoulders, trailing in his blood as she ran her tongue over the shallow gash in his flesh.
Gideon held his breath as she drank deeply. Her hands gripped his forearm, her nails gouged furrows into his skin.
Abruptly, she lifted her head and pushed his arm away. When she tried to stand, he grasped the hem of her skirt.
“Let me go!” She clutched her stomach, a low moan rising in her throat. “What have you done?”
He reached into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew a small brown bottle. “I drank a little poison when the sun went down.”
She stared at him, her eyes wild. “What’s the antidote? Where is it? Give it to me!”
“There isn’t any.”
She sank to her knees, her breathing labored, her skin turning gray. “Help me… .”
Gideon shook his head, his eyes narrowing with revulsion as her years quickly caught up with her. Wrinkles spread across her face, the color faded from her hair, her hands turned skeletal, the skin liberally sprinkled with age spots.
She uttered an anguished cry and then toppled onto her side. Tremors wracked her from head to foot for several minutes, and then she went still.
Still clutching a handful of her skirt, Gideon leaned forward. Was she dead? But no, he could still hear the faint beat of her heart.
She let out an unholy shriek as her body began shriveling, shrinking, until she was as ugly on the outside as she had been on the inside. A last, desperate cry, and the life drained out of her.
Gideon stared at her a moment longer, his brow furrowing as her body disintegrated into dust.
Damn. He had never seen anything like that before. She really was old. Well, there was one good thing about it, he mused. He wouldn’t have to worry about disposing of the body. Dragging her skirt into the cell, he withdrew the silver key from the pocket, cursing as it scorched his palm, but it was a small price to pay for his freedom.
Moments later, the shackles lay on the floor.
Dissolving into mist, he left the basement. Resuming his own form, he went in search of Verah’s wand. He found it on a table in what he surmised was the room where she worked her magic. Her familiar was curled up on a high stool beside the table. The black cat sprang to its feet, back arched, teeth bared, when Gideon reached for the wand.
“You’re out of a job.” Gideon jerked his thumb toward the door. “Get lost.”
The cat stared at him, unblinking, then jumped off the stool and ran out of the room.
Gideon stared at the wand. It was just a piece of wood, perhaps sixteen inches long, yet he was reluctant to touch it. Still, a promise was a promise, and he had promised this wand to another witch.
He glanced around, looking for something to wrap it in. He settled on a scrap of toweling, felt a ripple of supernatural power when he picked up the wand. He quickly wrapped it in the towel and left the house.
A thought took him to his lair in New York. A tingling on his skin told him it was only minutes until sunrise.
Going into the bathroom, he stripped off his jeans. One good thing about being a vampire, his wounds healed quickly, even those made by silver. He took a hot shower, wishing all the while that Kay was with him. Closing his eyes, he imagined her hands moving over his shoulders and back, sliding lower, lower …
Shaking off his lustful thoughts, he stepped out of the shower, dried off, and stretched out on the bed. Lying there, his arms folded behind his head, he made a mental list of things to do when he rose on the morrow. First, he would call a florist and order five dozen roses for Kusuma Ila. Second, he would box up Verah’s wand and arrange to have it delivered to her, payment in full for services rendered. And third, he would get in touch with Kay.
Closing his eyes, he summoned her image to mind, focused on it while the darkness wrapped its arms around him and dragged him down into oblivion.
Kiya?
At the sound of Gideon’s voice, Kay glanced up from the book she was reading.
Gideon! How are you? Where are you? I haven’t heard from you in days. I’ve been so worried.
I’m fine. I’m in New York. Are you still at your father’s?
Yes.
Kay looked over at her mother, who was asleep on the sofa.
Can you get out of the house?
I don’t know. I’ll try, but there’s always someone watching me. Where did you go?
I went to Verah’s. You can stop worrying about her. She won’t be coming after you again
.
She’s dead?
Definitely dead
.
You killed her.
It wasn’t a question.
I had a little help. Remember that witch in Apache Junction? She concocted a poison cocktail.
How did you get Verah to drink it?
Gideon chuckled.
I drank it, and when she drank from me …
It killed her.
Kay shook her head. It was brilliant.
As soon as you get away, let me know, and I’ll be there
.
I will. Gideon? I love you
. If only she could invite Gideon into the compound, getting away would be so much easier. But her father had rescinded Gideon’s invitation, which superseded any invite Kay or anyone else might issue.
I love you, too, Wolfie
.
Tears stung her eyes when he closed the connection between them. He was alive. Verah was dead. If she could get away, no one would be able to find her.
“Kiya, what is it?”
Kay glanced at her mother, hoping she hadn’t seen the tears in her eyes.
“You’re crying. Why?”
Kay shook her head, but the harder she tried to hold back her tears, the swifter they fell.
Rising, Dorothy went to sit on the footstool in front of Kay’s chair. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“No, I can’t.”
“It has something to do with Gideon, doesn’t it?”
“Mom …”
“I know you love him. And he loves you.”
Kay blinked back her tears. It was so tempting to pour out her heart to her mother, but she didn’t dare. How could she trust her to keep her secret now, when her father had broken her mother’s spirit?
Dorothy took Kay’s hand in hers. “You can trust me, Kiya. I won’t say anything to your father. I promise.”
“Gideon’s waiting for me, Mama. If I can get away from here, he’ll come for me and take me away.”
“Are you sure you want to go with him? He’s a vampire, Kiya.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Kay sighed. “My father will never let me go. Even if I can convince him to end my marriage to Victor, he’ll just find someone else for me to marry. And Mama, I’m already married to Gideon. It doesn’t matter if my father says the marriage is no longer valid. I’m married to Gideon in my heart, in my soul. I always will be.”
“I see.”
“When Victor …” Kay shook her head. “Even though he forced me, I felt like I was being unfaithful to Gideon, like I was breaking my marriage vows.”
“Oh, Kiya, what have we done to you?”
“You didn’t do it, Mom,” Kay said, and in that moment, as tears spilled down her mother’s cheeks, Kay hated her father, not only for what he had done to her, but for what he had done to her mother.
“Your father’s gone to see Diego,” Dorothy said, squeezing Kay’s hand. “I don’t know why, but if you want to leave, you should go now.”
“How am I going to get past Tyler?” Tyler Red Elk was the werewolf who stood guard at her bedroom door. At the moment, he was standing in the hallway outside the living room.
“Leave that to me. When you hear me scream, leave the house as fast as you can.”
“Mom …”
“You’ll need a distraction to get out of the house,” Dorothy said. “Who knows when you’ll get another chance?”
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too.” Leaning forward, Dorothy hugged Kay, then kissed her cheek.
“When you hear my signal, run as fast as you can. You’ll only have a few minutes.”
“I don’t know… .”
“It’ll be fine. Go to your room and wait.” Rising, Dorothy moved toward the door. She paused to look over her shoulder. “Be happy, Kiya, and always remember that I love you.”
Before Kay could say anything, her mother left the room.
Too keyed up to sit still, Kay paced her bedroom floor. What kind of distraction did her mother have in mind?
She glanced at her watch. It had been almost thirty minutes since her mother had left the living room.
Had her mother changed her mind? Or worse, had her father come home unexpectedly? She hated to think what would happen if her father learned of her mother’s plan to help Kay escape.
Going to the window, Kay stared into the darkness. She could see Joe, standing in the shadows beneath her window. Poor guy. She could almost feel sorry for him.
She was about to turn away from the window when she heard it, a scream of such agony, she almost thought it was real.
Hurrying to the door, she opened it a crack. Tyler was gone.
Murmuring, “Thank you, Mom,” Kay hurried down the stairs. Opening the front door, she glanced left, then right. There was no sign of anyone guarding the front entrance.
It took only moments to punch in the gate code and then she was running down the driveway. Veering left, she ran for the hills. Only when the house was out of sight did she slow down.
Breathless, she closed her eyes and concentrated on Gideon and connecting to the blood bond that bound them together.
Gideon! Gideon, come for me! Hurry!