Blood and Kisses(30)

Spirit. No doubt he was curled up on one of the Gideon’s beds right now. “Can we stop and get Spirit before we head to the Tomb?” When had she started to think about the bar using the vampire name?

“I think we can risk it. Do you have enough energy to cast an invisibility spell on you both?”

“I think so, but I’ll only need to cloak myself. Spirit has his own powers, and one of them is invisibility.”

Gideon nodded. “Good. The Tomb will be crawling with cops.”

A lone raindrop sparkled like a diamond in his thick hair, and Thalia successfully fought the urge to brush it away. She folded her hands in her lap. It was better if she didn’t touch him. But, oh how she wanted to. She forced herself to remember how much it hurt when he’d pulled back from her in the kitchen. Her throat ached. She would be a fool to court that kind of pain again.



The rain seemed to have cleared the city streets. For the most part, they were the only ones on the road as they traveled to the Tomb. They’d dropped Spirit at Mina Shaw’s house. Spirit had insisted it was his place to go over the preparations for the ritual of power and ensure everything was done correctly. He didn’t say it, but Gideon got the feeling he was afraid someone might tamper with the spells.

The police had been watching the house, but it had been only a matter of minutes to slip inside and retrieve the familiar, who had escaped the police’s notice by literally vanishing.

Gideon had wanted to get Thalia some dry clothes, but her suitcase had been taken. His own clothes were still in his closet, probably because the police had already examined them and found nothing. Gideon had vaporized the blood-soaked clothes from his earlier encounter with the rogue. A decades-old amendment to the Code required careful disposal of blood. Vampires didn’t shed hair or skin cells. No vampire DNA could find its way to a crime lab. Nonetheless his clothes were much too big for her. So they’d stopped at Wegmans and bought Thalia a dry shirt emblazoned with the Lilac Festival logo. There had only been a few left, as the festival was in May. He glanced at her. She looked great in purple. Her hair had dried and, freshly brushed, it shone with the glossy highlights of a raven’s wing. He clenched the steering wheel. He ached to touch her, could already imagine the feel of her hair sliding through his fingers, but held back, reminding himself of the consequences.

He checked the time on his watch. Almost one a.m. He hoped the rogue hadn’t already chosen another victim while they’d wasted their precious time with witch politics.

After Thalia challenged Heath, they’d left the community to gossip, drink punch, and eat cookies. For people who thought the end of the world was coming, they sure had an odd way of showing it. Gideon pushed his lingering anger aside and focused on the confrontation he hoped was coming. This had to end, and quickly. He couldn’t afford to become any more attached to Thalia. If anything happened to her, the beast would be almost impossible to contain.

He’d thought about trying to convince Thalia to stay with Mina while he checked out the Tomb, but he didn’t dare. His earlier vision returned to torment him. Her delicate body, sprawled on the indifferent ground, devoid of life, forsaken like so much jetsam cast onto a beach. No. He didn’t dare leave her alone.

Gideon found a parking spot on the street a few blocks from the Tomb. The plan was to cloud the mind of anyone they encountered, make them seem like just another couple. They couldn’t afford to waste Thalia’s energy.

He couldn’t remember ever taking more than a day or two to enforce the Code. Who the hell was this rogue?

As if he’d conjured him, a low moan issued from a nearby alley. It sounded like a man in the throes of wild sex, but Gideon was not deceived. He grabbed Thalia’s hand and sped around the corner in time to see a bent figure drinking from the neck of a man in a black leather jacket.

He wrenched the misshapen creature away from the man, who leaned drunkenly against the cement wall, a silly grin on his handsome face. A good sign. They’d caught the rogue before he’d claimed the man’s life force.

“Paul!” Thalia ran to the vampire’s prey and supported him before he could slide down the wall. “We need to get him to a hospital.”

The creature he had yanked off the mortal looked like a walking skeleton. His wrinkled, yellow skin hung off his wasted frame like a hand-me-down suit. He had only wisps of coarse hair on his bald skull. The creature grinned, showing pointed bloodstained teeth. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

It was true. Gideon could not recall this decayed remnant of a man. But as the vital blood from his youthful victim circulated through the rogue’s ancient veins, a transformation occurred. His flesh began to plump out. His sallow skin took on a wholesome glow. His crooked spine began to straighten. His shrunken body grew up and out.

Soon, a man Gideon did recognize stood before him.

“Akos.”

The man he despised more than any being in the world, next to himself. His nemesis. The man who had shown Gideon what he truly was. “I thought you were dead.”

“Far from it.”

The emaciated arm swelled in Gideon’s steely grasp. Muscles strained beneath his fingers. Akos would soon be strong enough to be a danger.

His old enemy laughed, a dry, rusty sound like a broken-down car refusing to start. “What are you going to do? You’re a wanted man, and the police will be by any second. Not time enough to take care of me and the boy.” He waved a hand in his victim’s direction.

Thalia had lost the fight to keep the man upright, and he’d slithered to the flooded pavement. Thalia pushed his head between his knees and forced his thighs up to his chest to aid his stuttering heart in its quest to push blood to his brain. Her face, blanched with concern, could not compete with the man’s waxen complexion. Gideon could hear the thready, irregular beat of the man’s heart. His cells, deprived of oxygen-rich blood, were dying. The man stood on the very threshold of death. He needed blood and fast.

Offering his blood might turn him, and Gideon had no idea what witch blood might do to him or how to get it in him. There was no time to spare. A hospital was his only chance.

Akos, flush from his aborted meal, but not at full strength, and without the augmentation of the Claiming, would be a fool to attack Gideon now.

Gideon flung the ancient’s wrist away and turned his back on his age-old rival. He stooped to gather the victim up in his arms.

Akos rushed him. Gideon spun and planted a sidekick in Akos’ middle, knocking him across the alley. He hit the wall of the next building and slid to the wet ground. Before he could rise, Gideon scooped up the dying man, grabbed Thalia’s hand, and teleported them directly outside the nearest hospital.



The suddenness of their arrival outside Highland Hospital’s Emergency Department startled Thalia. Disoriented, she froze, taking in her new surroundings.

“Get help!” Gideon said, urgently. “Tell them he got into a fight, and his opponent cut his throat. Go!”

Recovering her scattered wits, Thalia sprinted inside. Seconds later, she ran back out with two E.M.T.’s and a gurney. Paul lay on the curb, his jacket pillowing his head, barely conscious, a hand pressed to the wound at his neck.

Gideon was gone. She didn’t bother looking to see if he hid nearby. His presence affected her on a cellular level. She always knew when he was near.

He had left her.

She drew a deep breath, feeling strangely abandoned.

No doubt he’d gone back to find the man he’d called Akos. She needed to get back to him. Who knew how much energy he had expended teleporting?

Grunting with effort, the E.M.T.’s loaded Paul onto the gurney and rushed him inside. She trotted alongside, the soles of her sandals slipping on the shiny floor. She placed a hand on his forehead and uttered a quick healing spell under her breath. With any luck, it would keep him alive until they could transfuse him. They came to the doors that led to the E.R. and Thalia stopped, saying a prayer for good measure as the door closed behind them.

A kind and helpful man, Paul didn’t deserve to die for the crime of knowing her. None of the victims had deserved that—not Kimmy, or Sarah, or Grace, and certainly not Lily.

Lily. Tonight she’d met the animal who had taken her cousin from her.

Rage replaced guilt, pouring through her like water over High Falls. She was not to blame for their deaths, Akos was. It was Akos who had stolen their futures, ripped them from loving families. He alone was to blame. He was every bit as insane and evil as Gideon said the rogue would be.

She thought of Gideon, somewhere out there, perhaps fighting Akos at that very minute, alone and drained.

She wandered back outside into the small adjacent parking lot. The rain had stopped, but the air, still thick with moisture, clung to her, weighing down her clothes and hair. “Think, think,” she said out loud, pacing as she examined her options. She didn’t even have money for a bus or a cab, and even if she did, they might be on the lookout for her.