Diego pulled the spread from the foot of the bed and thrust it into her hands. “Cover yourself!”
She did so without thinking, her gaze focused on Gideon. He lay on his back on the mattress, unable to move, while Victor and Aaron sliced into his flesh. The knives left no lasting wounds, though she knew the cuts were painful. But it was the blood loss that concerned her more. Every drop they spilled made him weaker.
Screaming, “Stop it!” she hurled herself at Victor, driving him away from the bed.
He threw her off with ease, and when she would have attacked him again, Diego Rinaldi grabbed her arm, holding her in place, so that she could only watch in horror as the sheets on the bed ran red with Gideon’s blood.
“All right,” Diego said, “that’s enough. Get her out of here while we clean up the mess.”
“Don’t kill him!” Kay cried. “Please, Victor, don’t kill him. I’ll do anything you want.”
“Anything?” he asked.
“Yes, I swear it.”
“Kiya, no!”
Victor backhanded Gideon across the face. “Shut up, bloodsucker!”
“Kill him,” Diego said. “He is going to be nothing but trouble otherwise.”
“No!” Kay dropped to her knees in front of Victor. “Please spare him.”
Victor glanced briefly at Verah, and then at his father. “It might be wise to keep him alive for a little while.”
Diego looked thoughtful, then nodded. As long as they had the vampire, the girl would do as she was told.
“We’ll take the vampire to Alissano’s. I don’t think it’s a good idea to have the bloodsucker under our roof,” Diego said. “Take your bride and go home. I’ll let Russell know she’s all right.”
With a nod, Victor grasped Kay’s arm and yanked her to her feet. She glanced over her shoulder for one last look at Gideon before Victor dragged her out of the room.
Smiling, the witch followed them out the door.
* * *
Chapter 29
Kay stood in the middle of Victor’s bedroom, holding tight to the bedspread while she tried not to gag as he ran his hands up and down her arms.
“It’s time to fulfill your wifely duties,” he said with a leer.
“Couldn’t we wait until tomorrow night?”
“Oh, we’ll do it tomorrow night, too, never fear. But tonight I intend to wipe the memory of that bloodsucker from your mind.”
“That will never happen.”
“No?” His eyes narrowed angrily. “You promised you’d do anything, remember?” He held out his hand. “Have you forgotten I hold the vampire’s life in the palm of my hand? Give me a child, and the bloodsucker lives. Refuse me”—he made a tight fist—“and he dies. The sun is lethal to vampires. I wonder, do they burst into flames immediately, or do they die slowly, the flesh melting from their bones, the bones turning to ash? Either way, I’m sure the pain is excruciating.”
“Stop it!” Still clutching the bedspread, she pressed her hands over her ears in an effort to block Victor’s words and the horrific images they had conjured in her mind.
“You promised to do anything to save him,” Victor reminded her again. “Did you mean it or not?”
“I meant it,” she said, and squeezed her eyes shut as he ripped the bedspread from her grasp.
Later that night, after forcing Kay to fulfill her wifely duties, Victor went down to the basement.
The witch stood in her usual place in the corner of the room, the hood of her long black cloak pulled forward, her face shadowed in its folds.
Victor was grateful he couldn’t see the witch clearly. In the days since they had captured her, she had grown increasingly hideous to look at, her skin wrinkling and shrinking, her back hunching over, her arms and hands looking more skeletal than human. He wondered, without really caring, how much longer she could cling to life.
“You did well, tonight,” he said, “so I’ve brought you something. A reward for services rendered.” Reaching into his pants pocket, he withdrew a clear bottle filled with dark red fluid. He hadn’t brought it as recompense for her help, but simply out of curiosity. Why would anybody want vampire blood?
The witch’s eyes glowed as she hobbled toward him, her bound hands outstretched. “Give it to me!”
Victor watched as she quickly uncapped the bottle and drained half the contents.
He stared at her in astonishment. He had never known anyone to drink vampire blood.
He was about to turn away when something remarkable happened. In moments, the ugly old hag was gone and a beautiful young woman stood in her place.
Victor shook his head, amazed by the transformation. Her skin was clear and unblemished, her eyes bright, her lips full and tempting, her hair a fall of gleaming pale gold silk. Shrugging out of her heavy black cloak, she let it fall to the floor, revealing a lush figure that was every man’s dream. He fought down the urge to strip her of her clothing and take her, there, on the floor.
Damn. He shook his head, unable to believe the transformation wrought by a few drops of blood. No wonder she wanted the vampire alive.
A seductive smile played over those beguiling lips, almost as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.
And perhaps she did.
Hips swaying provocatively, she closed the distance between them. She gazed up at him, the tip of her moist pink tongue teasing her lips.
“You’ve given me a wondrous gift,” she said, her voice becoming a seductive purr as she moved closer still. “I should like to give you something in return.”
Victor shook his head. He wasn’t a fool, to be suckered in by a pretty face, especially when he’d seen what lay beneath the surface. But he didn’t back away when she lifted her bound hands and stroked his cheek with her knuckles.
He tried to remind himself of how she really looked, but his body was already reacting to her nearness, urging him to take her, here, now. No one would ever know.
Again, he told himself it would be a mistake, but she was humming softly, pressing her body against his, her hands stroking him, arousing him.
With a low growl, he wrapped his arms around her and lowered her to the floor.
She was bound and in his power. What harm could she do?
Verah slid out from under the boy’s body, grimacing as her bare skin brushed against his. He had been insatiable, which made him easy to manipulate. There were some kinds of magic for which she didn’t need her wand or Rama, and sex magic was one of them. While in the throes of passion, enchanted by her song, the boy had untied her hands and in the midst of venting his lust, he had told her where to find Rama.
Rising, she dressed quickly, drew on her cloak, and left the room. She paused in the hallway, listening to the sounds of the house. All was quiet.
It took only moments to find Rama and free him from his cage. Her wand waited for her on a table. Slipping it into the pocket of her cloak, she lifted Rama into her arms and hurried through the silent house toward the front door. After invoking her favorite invisibility spell, she left the house.
She hadn’t forgotten her promise to make Victor suffer for keeping her imprisoned, but her vengeance would have to wait for a more opportune time. There were more important things to be done first.
Like getting that elusive vampire away from the Shadow Pack werewolves and back in her cellar, where he belonged.
Gideon lay on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling, his thoughts as dark as the prison he now inhabited. He had lived for over 600 years, bound to no one, free to come and go as he pleased. And then he met Verah. There followed three years of living in a cage, like a wild animal. Three years of misery. And then he met Kay, who transformed his life and showed him what true happiness was. Unfortunately, however much he hated Verah and loved Kay, associating with the two of them had led to captivity on more than one occasion, a state he was heartily sick of.
Knowing it was useless, he tugged against the heavy silver shackle that chained his right ankle to a thick bolt in the floor. The only thing it accomplished was a searing pain in the palm of his hand.
He sat up, eyes narrowing against the light, when the door to his prison opened. An oath escaped his lips when he recognized his visitor.
She held a candle in one hand. After closing the door, she stood with her back against it, obviously afraid to approach him.
He stood slowly so as not to scare her away. “What the devil are you doing here?”
“I don’t know. If Russell finds out, he’ll be very angry.”
“So why did you come?”
“My daughter loves you,” Dorothy said.
Gideon nodded. “That surprises you, doesn’t it?”
“Frankly, yes. And no.” She smiled faintly. “How can I condemn her for falling in love with a vampire when I married a werewolf?” She studied him a moment, then sighed heavily. “I’ve never been a very good mother, partly because I couldn’t fully understand Kiya, but mostly because, as much as I love my husband, I’ve always been afraid of him.”
“But you married him anyway.”
“Yes, but that was before I knew what he was. I tried to leave him when I found out, but he wouldn’t let me take my children with me, and I couldn’t leave them behind.”
“And now your daughter’s trapped in a marriage she doesn’t want,” Gideon said.
Tears shimmered in Dorothy’s eyes. “There was nothing I could have done to stop it.”
He didn’t have to read her mind to know that guilt was eating her up inside. “So, what do you want from me?”
“I want your word that you’ll make Kiya happy for as long as you live.”
Gideon snorted. “I doubt if that’ll be very long, all things considered.”
“Promise me!”
“I love Kiya,” Gideon said quietly. “I’d never do anything to hurt her. Or you. You have my word that I’ll take care of her and do my best to make her happy all the days of her life.”