My Lord Vampire (Immortal Rogues #1)

My Lord Vampire (Immortal Rogues #1) Page 33

“No.”

Fighting the darkness that threatened to consume her, Simone watched Gideon abruptly straighten. Behind her Tristan tensed, prepared to battle a sudden attack. But just as Simone realized that Gideon would never reach her before Tristan could snap her neck, there was a blur of movement and a shocked gasp of disbelief from behind her.

The hand about her neck fell away and stumbling to her knees, Simone shifted about to see Tristan lying on the hard floor with the dagger deeply plunged into his heart.

Still panting with the effort of trying to breathe through her bruised throat, Simone felt Gideon come to kneel beside her. Her gaze, however, remained upon the body next to her.

In horror she watched a shimmering glow outline the long form, flickering in the dim light, then appallingly the body began to turn to ash. Her eyes widened as Tristan simply crumbled onto the floor until there was nothing left but the faintest trace of darkness upon the stone.

A comforting arm encircled her trembling body and Gideon pressed a kiss to her temple.

“It is done.”

Chapter 13

For a moment Gideon simply held on to Simone, allowing the warmth of her to seep into his chilled heart.

He had not realized how difficult it would be to kill Tristan. Not even when he had known that his own life was held in the balance could he force himself to plunge the dagger into the traitor. To bring the life of a vampire to an end went against every moral he possessed.

It was not until Tristan had dared to threaten Simone that his revulsion had been thrust aside and he had reacted without even thinking.

Now, however, reaction was setting in and he shivered in disgust.

Not only at having killed, but the knowledge that he had very nearly waited too long.

One more moment and Simone would be dead.

And he would have been entirely to blame.

His arms tightened about her, his lips unable to stop stroking the satin skin of her temple. He had to reassure himself that she was alive and in his embrace where she belonged.

“Simone, are you harmed?” he demanded in rasping tones.

He felt her shiver as she leaned against him. “Nothing that will not heal.”

“Damnation,” he cursed his weakness at the sound of her strained voice. It was obvious her throat had been injured. “I was terrified Tristan would kill you before I could reach you. I had no choice but to throw the dagger and hope for the best.”

Her fingers rose to touch the amulet that lay upon her skin. “He was too determined to have the Medallion,” she husked.

Gideon gave a slow nod of his head. He was well aware that it had been Tristan’s obsession for the Medallion that had made him hesitate in striking Simone down.

He could only thank Nefri that he had paused.

“Yes. It was his downfall. That and his confidence that I would not choose to destroy him. I very nearly waited too long.”

Easily able to sense his inner turmoil, Simone raised her hand to gently lay it against his cheek.

“Gideon, do not.”

His lips thinned. “I allowed him to hurt you.”

“You attempted to give him an opportunity to save himself,” she argued in soft, but ruthless tones. “Had you simply killed him without remorse or regret you would be no better than he.”

Her words, of course, made sense, but he was not yet prepared to accept what he had done.

“He had become crazed with his lust for the Medallion.”

Simone slowly turned her head to regard the darkened stones. “What happened to him?”

With reluctance, Gideon reached out to retrieve the dagger that lay on the ground.

“The power of the blade destroyed his soul.”

Her breath caught. “His soul?”

“It is as if he never existed. A horrible fate for any vampire.”

As if at last truly comprehending just how final a death Tristan had suffered, Simone regarded him with sad eyes.

“I am sorry, Gideon.”

“As am I.” He briefly thought of his arrogant certainty when he had arrived in London. He had never thought that Tristan would prove so relentless. It had seemed a simple matter to convince him of the error of his ways, and to escort him to the Great Council. “I did not believe it would come to this.”

There was a faint pause as Simone studied his tortured expression.

“Why were you sent to face him?” she at last demanded. “Surely there were others more capable?”

His pride was ridiculously pricked by her abrupt question. Did she feel as if he had somehow failed her?

“More capable?”

“I presume that vampires can be as different from one another as humans are. There must have been another who would not have been so reluctant to face Tristan.”

He frowned at her perception, for the first time actually pondering the reason he had been called before the Great Council. It was true that there were those who would have been quite anxious to punish the renegades. Some far more talented in the arts of battle than he.

“I do not know,” he slowly confessed. “At the time I was told I had been chosen I presumed that it was because I was intelligent and always logical. Now ...”

“What is it?”

A niggling unease settled in the pit of his stomach. He knew that he must be overlooking something. Some vague sense that there was more to this than he could put his finger upon.

“It does not make sense,” he muttered in annoyance for his uncommon stupidity. “As you say, there were others that surely would have been far more capable of facing Tristan.”

Her expression abruptly melted as she gazed deep into his eyes. “Whatever the reason, I owe them a debt of gratitude. I would not have desired anyone but you to protect me.”

Gideon readily allowed himself to be distracted, and slipping the dagger beneath his coat he firmly returned his arms about her delicious form.

“No one else will ever be allowed to protect you. You belong to me.”

She arched her brows at his deliberately arrogant tone. “Belong?”

He breathed in her warm scent. “Can you not feel it deep within you?”

Her eyes briefly closed before they opened to regard him with shimmering love.

“Yes.”

Gideon gave a low groan as he pressed his lips to her forehead. The last three days had been the longest in his life as he waited for her to come to him. He’d wanted so desperately to force his way into her home where he could prove to her that his emotions were no different than any other gentleman’s. And that he would devote his life to making her happy.

Only the knowledge that he might very well force her even farther from him had kept him away.

“I thought I had driven you away when I confessed the truth.”

“It was difficult to accept,” she admitted.

“Yes, I know.”

She heaved a faint sigh. “I wanted to convince myself that you were mad and that my feelings for you had been those for a gentleman who did not exist.”

“But you came to me tonight.”

“I realized that there was no one else that I could trust,” she said simply.

He pulled back to study her pale features. It was past time for honesty between the two of them.

“Because of your secrets?” he demanded gently.

“In part. I thought ...” She gave a wry smile. “Rather, I hoped that you would not turn from me in disgust when you learned my true identity.”

He gave an impatient click of his tongue, still amazed that she would think for a moment that he could care about such a trivial matter.

“I would never turn from you,” he assured her. “Certainly not because your mother was not of noble blood. Such things mean nothing to me.”

Her eyes darkened with sudden emotion. “That is only a measure of why I came to you tonight.”

“Tell me why, Simone,” he urged.

“Because I could no longer deny that I had fallen in love with you.”

Sweet, heated pleasure rushed through Gideon as he allowed her words to sink deep within him. He never thought to feel this way, nor to depend upon another to bring him such happiness.

“Oh, my sweet, you fill my heart with joy,” he groaned softly.

Shifting awkwardly on the hard floor to place her arms around his neck she offered him a wry smile.

“I can think of more comfortable surroundings to continue this conversation.”

Gideon gave a rueful chuckle. He had been so enwrapped in Simone he had nearly forgotten the dreadful brewery.

“True enough.” Rising to his feet he carefully helped her to stand, assuring himself that she was not still suffering from her ordeal before slipping her arm through his own and leading her toward the door. Watching her carefully he did not miss her grimace as they moved through the flickering shadows. “What is it?” he demanded in concern.

“That horrible smell.”

Gideon’s features tightened, wishing that he could protect her from the truth.

“It is no doubt Tristan’s servants.”

She lifted her head in surprise. “He killed them?”

“No, but once they became trapped in his power they would no longer be concerned for their own needs. Most starve to death within a few days.”