Sunrise in a Garden of Love & Evil (14 page)

"Thank God," Gideon said, sitting down again. "I'll tell you why, but you have to promise to keep it under wraps. Can you do that?"

Art flushed and planted her hands on her hips. "I'm not six years old anymore, Gideon. I can keep a secret." Her eyes found Ophelia's. "Can't I?"

"Definitely," Ophelia said. "I think the body in the truck was someone who worked at the photo shop. It might be the blackmailer."

Art squeaked, "I'm a murder suspect?" She gasped. "Is Ophelia a suspect?"

"No, baby, no, of course not," Gideon said. "Neither of you are, but it's a relief you both have alibis." He forced another smile. "Have a good time tonight. I'll take care of things."

His reward was immediate: Art flung her arms around him. "Oh, Gideon, I love you! Thank you!" When he hugged her back, she whispered in his ear, "It's not what it looks like, I promise." He tightened his arm and kissed her hair, unaccountably grateful for the affection and reassurance, and watched her hurry to hug Ophelia as well.
If only,
he thought.
If only Ophelia would let me offer her comfort, too.

"Gideon will find the murderer," Art said, and Ophelia nodded wearily.

I will take care of you, sweetheart,
Gideon told her in his mind, so of course she didn't hear him.

Constantine tossed Ophelia a set of keys. "I parked my big new truck out front. You'll look macho and prosperous. Anything else you need, let me know."

"Thank you," Ophelia said.

"There's a rifle on the rack. Best I could do on such short notice."

"Thank you," Ophelia said again. "I'll be fine."

"Love you, babe. Come on, Art, we've got some serious clubbing to do." Constantine blew Ophelia a kiss and then they were gone.

Ophelia gritted her teeth at Gideon. "Don't you dare harass me about the rifle."

"Ophelia, for God's sake--" Gideon stood. "I give up. Listen to me. I'm glad Constantine loaned you a truck. I wasn't looking forward to driving you home. I'm thankful I don't have to."

Tony walked in. "What gives?"

"She has a good alibi, so no worries," Gideon said. "I'm out of here. I have work to do."

"Hold on," Tony said. "I have something for you." He bolted back into the kitchen, and Ophelia and Gideon were left not looking at each other--or at least Ophelia wasn't. Gideon, no matter how angry and unwanted he felt, couldn't help it.

"Maybe we should exchange cell numbers," he said after a while. "Since I can't come to your place. I'll call and arrange to drop your belongings somewhere."

"All right," Ophelia said, surprising him. She accepted the pen he offered, carefully wrote her number on a napkin, and pushed it across the table. She took the business card he held out, tried to stuff it in her pocket, and pulled out a slingshot. "This is how I got the nutria."

"Impressive."

"Gretchen fetched it from the water and broke its neck." She put the slingshot away.

"She's impressive, too," Gideon said--then gave in again. "You can keep her for a while longer, until we've sorted all this out."

"All right," Ophelia said once more, clearly dying to get away from him. But surprising him again, she added, "You were great with Art. Constantine won't hurt her. He just pretends to be a jerk."

"I know."
Ask her, you dummy,
Gideon told himself, but he couldn't, not until he'd thought it through himself. If it wasn't just his eyes playing tricks, if he'd really seen fangs in Ophelia's mouth...

He had a lot of thinking to do.

Silence returned, and at last Tony came bustling in holding a small pizza box and a menu. He eyed Ophelia, cast a glance at Gideon, sighed, and packaged up the remains of Gideon's dinner. "Here."

Gideon took the box and turned to go.

"Take this menu, too. We deliver."

"I never order takeout," Gideon said.

"Seriously, you need this," Tony said. But as he held out the menu, he grabbed Gideon's reluctant hand and, with a knife that came out of nowhere, slashed Gideon's thumb. Blood appeared, alive and brilliant red, rolling over Gideon's wrist and down his arm.

Gideon flung the pizza box at Tony's face and sprang away. "What the fuck was that for?"

"Tony, you traitor!" Ophelia cried. At the same time she leaped for Gideon, grabbed his thumb, and sucked it into her mouth, jamming his arm between the warm, lush curves of her breasts, backing him up to the wall. He sank against it, the sensation of her tongue against his bloody thumb making him so weak he could hardly stand. Her mouth swirled around and over his thumb and down his wrist, lapped up the blood on his arm, then returned to the wound, painting out the pain and offering pure pleasure instead.

Tony picked up the pizza box and put it on the table, then retreated laughing to the kitchen. He shut the door softly behind him, and the light on the patio went out.

Ophelia let go of Gideon's thumb and sagged against him, all soft, pliant curves and hot breath on his chest. She shivered and let out a tiny moan. Her fingers burned across his skin, seethed up his neck and into his hair, and he shuddered in turn as she raised her head and latched her mouth to his. He groaned, yielding to the hunger and intoxication of her lips and tongue, returning the heat with an ardor as needy and demanding. He ran a hand down her spine, licking at her lips, fencing with her tongue, aflame to explore and discover and possess.

She broke the kiss and made as if to withdraw.
No!
His heart hammering, his loins insistent, Gideon held her hard against him, breast and belly and thighs--
No, don't go!
--and bathed his senses in her glory.
Stay with me forever.

Ophelia pulled away. "Come on, Gretchen." She opened the gate to the dark alley beside the restaurant and turned back to Gideon, left breathless and bereft against the cool brick wall. "You won't need a bandage," she said.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

"So now he knows you're a vamp." Violet grinned.

"He'd have to be an idiot not to." Ophelia slumped deeper into the billowy beige couch and messed with the remote.

"How did he taste?"

"Magnificent." Ophelia gave up on the TV and all but disappeared into the cushions.

Violet primped before a mirror with a bloodred stainedglass frame. "Go get him, then."

Ophelia almost tossed the remote across the room. "I don't want a love slave! Why didn't you warn me about that Marissa woman? That's why you gave me that look at supper, right?"

"I didn't know she was going to show up, angel," Violet said. "But Darby had been asking questions about Johnny, and I wondered if I should tell you. Not that it matters, after all. Setting aside the annoyance--"

Ophelia blinked. Annoyance? Blind panic was what she'd felt.

"--you impressed the hell out of Gideon."

This time, Ophelia did throw the remote. It bounced off a cushion and slid under a chair.

Violet continued. "And who cares what happened to Johnny, anyway? I wonder what the woman's really after. Insurance? An inheritance? She seemed way too pleased to assume he was dead. In that respect, she has all my sympathy. Do you suppose Constantine really killed him?"

Ophelia pulled herself together and retrieved the remote. "Why would Constantine kill some dancer he hardly knew?"

Violet shrugged, picking at a nonexistent blemish. "I have to run to the club. Donnie Donaldson's coming by, and I promised I'd be there. He wants to tell me about his construction business. How boring is that? Maybe I'll distract him with a kiss or two. Or maybe not." She turned from the mirror as her daughter came down the stairs. "Zelda, make Ophelia some tea. Something to improve brain function." She regarded her sister with a pained expression. "Angel, you're behaving irrationally. Someone's got it in for you. Dead bodies in your truck are no joke. Here's this gorgeous cop lusting after you, and you're spurning him. So what if he ends up a love slave? Better to have him protecting you because you're a vamp than not protecting you at all."

"That sounds awfully sordid to me," Zelda offered.

"Thank you." Ophelia slouched into the sofa again.

"It
is
sordid, darling," Violet said. "But it's the way of life, so make the best of it." She planted her butt on the arm of the couch and spread her hand. "See what Art did for me this afternoon?" Shocking pink spiders on black fingernails.

"Lovely," Ophelia said.

Violet stretched out a shapely foot. "Tomorrow, my toes. Art told me all about her ghastly ex and his puritanical notions. I think Darby will do nicely for her. There's nothing the least bit stodgy about
him
. It's so sweet of Constantine to help her out."

Again, Ophelia wondered what Constantine was up to. He wouldn't hurt Art, but he might frighten her badly. Unfortunately, there wasn't much Ophelia could do about that.

"Actually, I doubt if Gideon's the submissive type," Vi said.

"He's not. I want to throttle him. He pushes me around, he insists on his own way, he turns things to his advantage..." Ophelia arched herself against the cushions and groaned. "He's so
hot
, and I want him so much it's killing me."

"You sound like a sex-crazed sixteen-year-old."

"Hey! Don't malign the younger generation!" Zelda showed Ophelia her nails: rust-colored cockroaches on a green background. "My new method of creeping out the guys."

"Something happening?" Violet's mouth quirked up.

"
Mo
-om!" Zelda headed toward the kitchen. "Every time a guy says hello, I don't wonder if I'm a vamp."

Ophelia and Violet's eyes met.

"Even normal women have to fight them off at times." Zelda's voice, high and clear and a little unsure, carried from the next room.

"Well," said Violet.

"We don't know for certain," Ophelia said, but her eyes betrayed her. "Okay, okay, you may be right about Zelda, but not about me. I'm not sex crazed. I know I can get a love slave just by crooking my little finger. I don't want that. I don't want it to be just about the sex." She fought for words. "He has to really like
me
."

"Oh. My. Lord." Violet gaped at her sister. "I do believe you're falling in love!"

Gideon's cell phone rang as he drove back toward Bayou Gavotte. After dealing with the crime-scene people in a haze, he had taken the slow country roads to New Orleans, along the bayou and through the swamps. Once there, he'd spent an hour prowling the Quarter, thinking until his mind was ready to implode. At least he had control of his temper now.

He read the display.
DARBY SIMS.

"Gideon? You've got to do something about Artemisia. She's out clubbing with Dufray."

Christ. "So?"

"I don't like the way he looks at her," Darby said.

A shrill voice in the background was surely Marissa. "What about me? Are you talking to that jerk of a cop?" An echo told Gideon the phone was now on speaker. "Constantine looked like he wanted to kill me! What are you going to do about it, Vibrator Man?"

"You're imagining things, Marissa," Darby said. "Dufray hardly spared a glance for you. He was all over Artemisia."

"He's the creepiest person I've ever seen! He makes me think of axes and thumbscrews!"

"You
saw
axes and thumbscrews--in the decor there." Ah. The Oubliette. "Gideon, Dufray looked like he wanted to
devour
Artemisia."

"Maybe she'd like that," Gideon said callously. He had enough worries of his own. At least Dufray wasn't a vampire. He hoped.

Darby groaned. "He's all wrong for Artemisia. She's just been through a lousy marriage."

"What about me?" Marissa snapped. "I had a lousy marriage, too!"

"Sounds like you've got enough on your hands, Dar," Gideon said. "Art's a grown woman. She's not answerable to either of us."

"Get off the phone with that useless cop and go look for Johnny!" Marissa's bitching was followed by grunts and muffled curses.

"I thought better of you, Gideon," Dar panted. "I guess I'll have to--"

Marissa hollered, "Oh, no, you don't! I'm not going back in there because of some stupid girl who deserves whatever happens to her."

Gideon hung up. When he reached Bayou Gavotte, he went straight to the Impractical Cat and stalked into Leopard's office.

"She's a goddamned vampire! Why didn't you tell me?" Gideon made himself close the door without slamming it. A couple of hours earlier, he'd been so pissed off at Lep he might well have shot the door off its hinges. This was calm. This was controlled.

"It's just not done," Constantine said. He didn't look up from the riff he was working on. "Generally, it's up to a vamp to tell or not. Their secret, their risk. Bad things tend to happen to people who betray a vamp's confidence."

Gideon rolled his eyes as an alternative to breaking Constantine's guitar over his head.

"Nothing 'goddamned' about her," Leopard said. "Not undead, not evil, not allergic to crosses and garlic, nothing like that. Think of her as a hot chick with fangs."

"You know I didn't mean it that way," Gideon growled. He leaned against the door and glared at the one-way glass showing the back hall. The day after poetry night, even the usual bustle seemed slow. To the left of the glass, a video screen had been bolted to the wall, and shots of stalls and restroom walls flicked by. He doubted if watching other men take a dump was Leopard's idea of entertainment. Served him right. "Tony didn't leave it up to Ophelia. He slashed my thumb right in front of her."

"Tony's an older guy," Leopard said. "He takes liberties. Of course, he's a vamp, too."

Not done, huh?
Gideon barely prevented himself from snarling. "I wondered, after Ophelia overreacted and bit his girlfriend, and they exchanged opinions on how she tasted." He pushed away from the door and wished he didn't sound so bitter.

"That explains it," Leopard said, kicking back in his recliner. "He figured Ophelia was too close to the edge, so he forced the issue."

"You 'wondered'?" Constantine mocked. "I thought you didn't believe in vamps." His fingers traveled, hesitated, traveled again on the strings of his guitar.

Gideon retreated to the couch, giving up on maintaining a front. With these people, it took too much work. "You know how it is. All the rumors, the stories...You think you don't believe in something, but you sort of wish you could." He choked on a laugh. "Jesus. The damn fangs glow in the dark!"

"You're okay with it?" Constantine's pick poised in the air.

"Of course I am!" Then, guessing: "How could she imagine I wouldn't be?" No way would he tell them about the hours of turmoil leading up to this visit. There had never been a doubt about the outcome. He found himself staring at his wholly healed thumb for perhaps the thousandth time. "Jesus. Are there a lot of vamps around?"

"Compared to so-called normal people, no," Lep said. "It's a rare gene. On the other hand, there seem to be more vamps now than there were in the past. It's getting harder to keep them secret, that's for damn sure. There are even online vampire help groups nowadays, although most people think it's just a game." He gave Gideon a hard, meaningful look.

Gideon tamped down his annoyance. "Don't threaten me. You know I won't tell anyone."

Constantine played the same riff he had been messing with ever since Gideon had shown up. Again. And again. Louder.

Leopard narrowed his eyes. "If you're not okay with the fangs, you need to back off right now. You gotta like 'em or you gotta leave. If there's one thing that'll mess with a vamp's head, it's when the asshole she just laid throws up because he can't handle the fangs. That happened to Ophelia at least once. It better not happen again."

"I'm fine with the fangs." Gideon pressed his thumbs against the bridge of his nose. "Lep, I almost hauled her in to the station. If she hadn't agreed to go to Tony's instead...What if she'd ended up in jail with a horny guard in charge? Too many guys have no control when she's around."

Leopard spread his hands. "She's not stupid. She knew what would happen if she went to jail. Between giving in to you and ripping some guard to bits, what choice did she have?"

"If she'd just
told
me--" Constantine's goddamned riff came again and almost split Gideon's skull. "For fuck's sake," he shouted. "Do you have to play it over and over?"

The rocker's fingers stilled. "You were the one who busted in here while we were writing a song."

"Busting in is what I would have done a couple of hours ago when I was
really
pissed off," Gideon said more evenly. "I came to see Lep. You were supposed to be painting the town with my little sister."

"Artemisia has work in the morning." Constantine's fingers caressed the strings. "She's a ripe little cutie. Wants to shed all her inhibitions at once."

"I don't see how you could be any worse for her than her ex," Gideon said irritably, mentally congratulating himself for not shooting the bastard then and there. Because he wasn't really a bastard.

"I've already been considerably better for her," the rocker announced with an obnoxious grin.

Definitely a jackass, though.

"Don't be a jackass, Constantine," Leopard said. He cocked his head at Gideon. "If you're here for advice, I can't help you. My mom's a vampire and I love her to death, but I know better than to get involved with a vamp myself. Not fucking worth it."

Constantine snorted. "Much as I love our Ophelia..." His fingers wandered lazily across the guitar strings. "I was only sixteen when I slept with a vamp. Way too young for common sense or self-control or any idea of consequences. Lep warned me, but it turned out the opposite of what everyone predicted. Instead of me getting obsessed with her, she got obsessed with me."

Gideon stopped himself just in time from asking what had happened. Instead, he watched a busboy with a pile of dirty plates dodging Burton Tate at the entrance to the restroom hall.

Abruptly, Constantine stilled the guitar strings. "What next, sport?"

"Next I get back to work. I find out who killed that dude. I find out who has it in for Ophelia and why. I figure out how to keep her safe. Either of you know where Plato works?"

"Ophelia won't thank you for harassing Plato," Leopard said.

Constantine chimed in. "Told you so."

"What Ophelia wants is irrelevant right now. He may have seen something. He may still see something." Gideon cut his eyes to the video screen. Burton Tate banged into the restroom, glanced around, and immediately banged out again.

"Plato's a pharmacist," Leopard said. "He could lose his job if they find out he's bent."