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It was then he noticed the second man, a Breed male, standing at ease in the shadows of a cypress tree nearby. He was dressed in a tailored navy wool overcoat, his brown hair impeccably cut, and swept back elegantly from his face. Held in a loose grasp in front of him stood a gleaming length of polished steel. The long blade glittered in the moonlight.
Gideon didn't need to see the hilt to know there would be a bird of prey--a falcon--tooled into the handcrafted grip.
Hugh Faulkner's blade.
But this was not the Gen One sword smith Gideon killed back in London all those centuries ago. He'd never seen this vampire before, he was certain.
"Drop your weapons, warrior."
Gideon glanced from the Breed male to the Minion holding Savannah, calculating which of the two he should kill first to give her the best odds of getting away unharmed. Neither was a guarantee, and he was loath to risk making a mistake that carried such a high cost.
"Put them down now," the vampire drawled. "Or my man will blow her pretty head off.">"Yeah." A deep voice. Dark, arresting. Menacing.
"Gideon told me to call," she blurted in one panicked rush of breath. "Something's happened to him and I--"
Click.
"Hello?"
The dial tone buzzed in her ear.
It wasn't even ten minutes later that Savannah found herself standing beside an unresponsive Gideon, staring up into the hard face and unreadable eyes of a massive Breed male dressed in black leather and pulsing with lethal power.
He hadn't knocked, simply strode right in without a word of greeting or explanation. And he'd arrived on foot apparently, from where, Savannah could only guess.
Since she'd met Gideon and learned about his kind, she was coming to simply accept some things as simply part of the new reality.
Still, she could hardly curb the impulse to scrabble out of the disturbing male's way when he came farther inside the house.
The place was his, there could be no doubt about that.
He was the one who put the box of ashes in the hidden room below the kitchen.
It was his wrenching sorrow Savannah had glimpsed when she touched the reliquary.
He stared at her now without any emotion whatsoever. His green eyes didn't so much look at her as through her.
He knew. He knew she'd been down in his private cell filled with death.
Savannah could see the awareness of her breach all over his grim face, although he said nothing to her. Did nothing, except grimly go to Gideon's side. He bent his big body and went down in a crouch on his haunches beside Gideon. A low curse hissed out of big male.
"He won't wake up," Savannah murmured. "After I came back from making the call, I found him like this, unconscious."
"He's lost too much blood." The voice was the same deep, threatening growl that she'd heard on the other end of the line. "He needs proper care."
"Can you save him?"
The tawny head swiveled to face her, bleak green eyes raking her. "He needs blood."
Savannah glanced down at Gideon, recalling his sharp reprimand that she not come near him. He'd been furious, desperately so, even though it had been obvious that he wanted to drink from her--needed to. "He didn't want me. He told me to stay away from him."
That unsettling stare stayed locked on her for a long moment before the vampire returned his attention to his fallen comrade. He inspected Gideon's leg wound, snarling as he assessed the damage. "So, you're the girl."
"Excuse me?"
"The Breedmate my man here hasn't been able to stay away from since he saw you on the TV news earlier this week, talking about the sword used to kill his brothers."
Savannah felt a twinge of confusion. An odd niggle of dread. "Gideon saw me on the news? He knew I'd seen the sword?" She shook her head. "No, that's not right. We met at the library where I work. He didn't know anything about me before then."
