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He shrugged. “What difference does it make if I can convince her to stop following you?”
Kay sat up, one brow raised in disbelief. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
He shook his head.
“There’s only one thing she wants from you… . No! I won’t have it. You’re not putting yourself in that creature’s power for my sake.”
“It seems a better alternative than knowing you’re married to someone else.”
“Oh, Gideon.” Blinking back her tears, she flung her arms around him. “How could you even consider such a thing after what she put you through?”
He shrugged. “Three years isn’t much when you’ve got eternity. I’d give her thirty years rather than see you unhappy, or married to a man you don’t love.”
She rained butterfly kisses on his cheeks, his nose, his brow. “I love you, Gideon, only you, and no one else, ever. Please don’t ever surrender yourself to that witch for my sake. Promise me! I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.”
“I promise, darlin’, unless the choice is you or me.” If he was lucky, Verah would accept his promise that he would supply her with blood as long as she didn’t reveal Kay’s whereabouts to her family or Victor.
Kay hugged him tighter. He was, she thought, the bravest, most gallant man she had ever known. It was beyond comprehension that he would even think of contacting Verah … and even as the witch’s name crossed her mind, the bedroom door slammed open and Victor, his father, and Aaron, one of Victor’s pack mates, burst into the room. Looking past them, Kay saw Verah standing in the doorway. The witch was shrouded in a long black cloak, the hood pulled forward, her hands bound behind her back. Damn the woman. This was the second time in a matter of days that the witch had led Victor to her.
Before Kay could move or speak, Diego Rinaldi flung a pail of water at Gideon, then tossed the bucket aside. Victor and Aaron grabbed his ankles while Diego bound his feet together with a length of silver chain.
Kay gasped as the stench of burning flesh reached her nostrils. It took her a moment to realize the bucket had contained holy water. She stared in horror as the skin on Gideon’s face, chest, and belly reddened and began to blister.
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?
