Blood and Kisses(35)

“This time, however, something was different. Akos was relentless. He met every move I made with a decisive move of his own. It was as if he knew my plans in advance, and I soon realized he had a spy in my camp. But who, I didn’t know.

“One evening, as I strolled through the tents of my army, listening to the sounds of the men talking and laughing, the strains of music rising from around the campfires, I heard what I thought was a struggle in a tent belonging to one of the camp followers.”

Thalia held her breath. She thought she knew what he’d found there.

“I entered the tent and found my beloved wife naked in Akos’ arms. There was no struggle. My supposedly virginal wife rode him, her pleasure all too clear.” He’d told most of the story in a flat, emotionless monotone, but he stumbled over these words, his voice taking on a rough intensity that rang with remembered pain. “I drew my sword. Akos threw her off and fled through a slit in the back of the tent.

“I lunged after him. She drew a dagger from beneath the pallet and leaped at me. Seconds later, I pierced her with my sword. She fell to the ground writhing, blood flowing from her dying form. I left her there in a pool of blood.”

Thalia flinched at the image the unvarnished statement evoked, but Gideon continued on without pause.

“I found a horse and took off after Akos, my mind a haze of fury.

“I caught up with him at his clan’s campsite. He ordered his men to attack, and I hacked my way through them as if they were cordwood.

“I looked down as the last of his men fell from my sword to find that I had slaughtered twenty men, including a young boy of perhaps thirteen.

“And in my rage, I had killed Akos without even knowing it, or so I believed.”



Gideon could never forget that moment. He’d stood, his clothes drenched with blood, in the midst of the gory carnage he had created, and felt nothing.

“I heard a sound behind me, and spun just in time to see the pike that impaled me, and the person who wielded it. Inanna.

“Everything went dark. When I awakened, she was leaning over me, her mouth red with my blood. She told me she’d made me a vampire like herself.” He turned toward Thalia, but couldn’t look her in the eye, and turned back to the dressing table.

He bent over the table, his hands gripping the smooth maple surface for support before going on. “I’d heard tales of such creatures, but had dismissed them as the superstitious babbling of ignorants. She claimed that she’d loved me when we’d married, but soon after I left, Akos had approached her. He’d wooed her with poems and love songs.” Gideon snorted. “While I’d chased his army, he’d been at my own home. She said I’d driven her into Akos’ arms, that I loved Kurut more than I loved her.

“I will always remember the final words she said to me that night. ‘You will be condemned to walk eternally in the night, to feast on the life blood of others, to watch everyone you love crumble to dust, and everything you have built be swallowed by the sands.’”

He closed his eyes, reliving the moment. “I should have faced the dawn then, but I was too much of a coward. I still am.” He shook his head.

“I couldn’t go home. I roamed the Middle East, working as a mercenary. If my employers wondered why they never saw me during the day, they never voiced it.

“In the beginning, I thought Inanna a fool, her revenge an empty joke. I reveled in my new powers. I was faster, stronger, my senses a thousand times keener. I barely noticed the passing of the years.

“Then, one day I woke up and realized fifty years had passed. I returned to Kurut to find Inanna’s curse had come true. My family was long dead, and the desert had reclaimed Elilu. It was only then that I understood all I had lost, and not what I had become, but what I had always been. A monster.”

Gideon swiveled to confront Thalia. Now she knew everything. He examined the delicate lines of her face. The feeble light that leaked from the gap in the curtains silvered the curves of her cheeks, her forehead, the tip of her nose. Gods, she was beautiful. And unlike his late wife, as lovely inside as out. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. A spasm of sorrow seized his heart. He longed to go to her, to comfort her, but he couldn’t.

His rejection may hurt her, but it was for the best. She deserved someone whose hands were clean, someone who had no inner demon. Despite his vows of love to Inanna, he had killed her. The fact that she hadn’t died didn’t change the reality that he’d run her through. He was already responsible for the death of one woman he’d loved. He wouldn’t be responsible for another.

And even if he managed to keep her safe from himself, what was to keep him safe from her? She couldn’t be turned. She would eventually leave him through death.

He shuddered to think what devastation might be unleashed, if grief caused him to lose control. No. It was better this way. Better to end things before either of them was in too deep.

Anguish burned in his chest. He could lie to her, but not to himself. For him, it was already too late. But it didn’t matter. He was too weak. He couldn’t risk what might happen when he lost her.

Thalia’s eyes were bleak. “What happened to Inanna?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since. She must have gone back to bury Akos and discovered that he lived. I believed I’d killed him, so he must have been mortally wounded. She had to be the one that turned him.”





Chapter 20



Thalia stooped beneath a low beam to peer into Mina’s cellar from the rickety stairs. Brick walls discolored with age, rough, worn ceiling beams, and the expectant faces of the council below seemed to close in around her. Turn around. Her internal voice whispered. You can’t do this.

Yes, I can. She told herself and took a moment to study the room in order to calm her surging nerves.

Other than its age, the cellar was pristine, the uneven cement floor swept clean and covered with a natural lamb’s wool rug, the windows clear of spider webs and blocked with black curtains. One of the squat, rectangular windows was slightly open.

A heavy mahogany sideboard spread with a clean white linen tablecloth acted as an altar. It had three milky white candles on top. A black pentagram in a circle had been painted directly on the cream rug beneath the altar. Different colored pillar candles, pink, purple, green and blue, in intricately carved wooden floor length holders, anchored the four corners of the carpet. Two rattan cages full of zebra finches stood next to the altar.

Spirit, and the twelve other members of the council encircled the rug on small woven mats. Thalia forced herself down the last of the stairs and lowered herself onto one of the mats, trying to look serene. Unable to settle her mind, her gaze flitted around the room. Gideon should have been back from feeding by now. Where was he? Was he okay?

The council members chatted around her, as relaxed as at a family picnic. Anger buzzed through her. Her whole way of life was at stake, a dangerous rogue stalked the community, Gideon was overdue, and these poor excuses for witches acted like this was a party. She took several deep breaths. Fueling her magic with anger would be risky. The emotion edged too close to black magic.

The finches peeped and Thalia glanced back at the stairs. Gideon. He took the steps with the ease of a conqueror surveying his spoils. The small birds flew around their cage for a moment, perhaps scenting the predator in their midst, but they soon settled on their perches, fluffing out their feathers and going to sleep.

Thalia studied Gideon. He seemed in good health and some of the tight breathless feeling that had ridden her since he’d left seeped away.

There were only a few minutes until midnight. She hoped that meant he’d taken his time feeding. His dark skin didn’t show the flush some paler vampires received after feeding, but he looked strong.

His gaze met hers. She could almost read the sense of urgency humming through him. Akos could even now be Claiming a life.

She knew what it cost him to be here. Knew he would like to continue the search without her. Communicating telepathically under the circumstances would be rude, so she smiled at him, letting him see she was grateful for his moral support.

With most of the community against her, all she had was him and Spirit, and as much as she loved and depended on the familiar, he couldn’t be there for her as Gideon could.

Sure, his support was temporary, but she’d burn that bridge when she came to it.

The sisal mat beside Spirit lay empty and Gideon took a seat like the others on the floor, folding his legs under him.

She pressed her lips together, suppressing another small smile. Even sitting tailor fashion on the floor, he gave the impression of coiled strength. Despite being seated and engaged in their own conversations, the witnesses seemed to lean away from him, as if their unconscious selves wanted to be ready to run.

“It is time to begin.” Mina stepped up and lit a white candle on the altar. She beckoned to Heath and Thalia.

She hid a deep sigh. This was it.