Jess Haines - Enslaved By the Others

I gasped. My eyes popped open and I pushed his hand away from my face. While I knew he had the capacity to be callous, that was a bit much to hear, particularly on the heels of his latest actions.

Not to mention being reminded of how I had become contracted to him, about the times he had been under a crazy magic user’s influence and tried to kill me, was totally unexpected. He rarely, if ever, brought it up. Neither of us did considering how terrible the circumstances were behind how we met. Until now, it had been nothing but a bad memory that lingered between us like a fart in an elevator; noticed, but politely ignored and unremarked. Using it as a way to make me accept twisting the minds and hearts of innocent people wasn’t doing him any favors, that was for sure.

His fingers snaked around my wrist, keeping me from pulling away as he continued.

“Since you had no way of knowing otherwise, perhaps it will ease your conscience to know that the bargain I struck with those other vampires in return for their aid requires these additions to their food supply to be temporary. They are bound by the terms of our agreement to offer the opportunity for the humans to dissolve the contracts and return to their families after a suitable length of time passes for any scarring to be explained away.”

My jaw dropped. “Are you serious? Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I’ll admit,” he said, a ghost of that familiar, teasing smile returning, “I wanted to see if you could stand by to let me do what was necessary without interfering. You doubted and you disagreed, but you recognized the danger and let me do what needed to be done. Call it a test of sorts.”

I hit him as best I could, which hurt like hell since it was the wrist I had sprained in the fight against Max. He didn’t budge, though it did put a crease in his otherwise immaculate shirt. “You asshole!”

“One who saved your life. Perhaps a thank you is in order, hmm?”

“Fine. Thank you, asshole. ”

Gideon gave my shoulder a companionable pat, making me jump. I had forgotten he was there. “Cheer up, buttercup. He’s just getting you ready for the lifetimes ahead of hard choices.”

Royce gave him a withering look that would have sent me running had I been the one at the receiving end. The necromancer shrugged and leaned his butt against the arm of the chair, invading my personal space and giving no sign that he was picking up the ahem-private-conversation-is-supposed-to-be-private vibes we were giving him.

“Perhaps,” the vampire said once it became clear Gideon wasn’t getting the hint, his tones silky and dangerous, “you should consider occupying yourself elsewhere until I am ready to deal with you.”

Gideon shrugged. “I’m not about to wander around a vampire’s den without being introduced to the household first. Your people will either tear me to shreds or force me to defend myself in ways that will get me into trouble. I’ll keep my ass planted right here, if you don’t mind.”

As a born and bred New Yorker, I’ve honed my skills to a fine art at saying “fuck you” with no more than a look. Gideon ignored my sour expression as he put an arm around my shoulder and turned a pointed look on the vampire. I wrinkled my nose even more when I got a good whiff of him. Ugh, he needed another shower something awful. Airport smells did nothing to improve his natural odor of preservative chemicals with a heaping side of dead things.

Royce frowned, but gave a sharp nod, rising and pulling a slim cell phone from his back pocket. He tapped out a text message, waited a few moments for a reply, and then put the phone back in his pocket. With that, he returned his attention to the necromancer draping himself over me.

“One of my progeny will be along in a moment to show you to a room.”

“Great,” Gideon replied with a notable lack of enthusiasm. “So when are we going to discuss the terms of my employment? My ex-lover isn’t going to be too thrilled with me for my part in killing his sire or running off without a good-bye kiss.”

Royce stilled. Though I might have missed it if I hadn’t been watching his features so carefully, there was a flicker of something I hadn’t expected there.

Sorrow.

It was gone before I could be certain that I had seen it. His tone remained brusque and nonchalant, with a light garnish of irritation on the side. “Max was a fool without vision if he thought he could control someone of your power. I am under no such illusions. Your presence here requires some preparation, so you’ll forgive me for taking the time to make the appropriate adjustments to my security before I commit to assigning you a detail or any responsibilities.”

Gideon tugged one of my curls, frowning at the vampire as he directed his question to me. “Does he always talk like that?”

“When he doesn’t want to make a promise he can’t keep, yeah,” I replied.

“Or he thinks he can’t trust who he’s dealing with,” another cheerful voice added. Gideon and I both twisted around to see Ken sauntering our way, his blond hair slicked back and his pinstripe suit immaculately pressed. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

Royce shook his head, reaching out to stop Ken before he could shake the necromancer’s offered hand. “Careful, now. Ken, this is Gideon. Gideon, this is Ken Alcantra, one of my progeny and the managing director of my nightclubs.”

Ken’s bright blue eyes widened, then briefly flickered with a red light. Whether from excitement or fear, I couldn’t tell. “The necromancer? I’ll be damned.”

Gideon withdrew the hand he’d offered, slumping against me like he’d meant to do it all along. I scowled at him and poked him in the chest, but he didn’t take the hint.

“Ken, since you’re at loose ends until the clubs are restored, I’d like for you to show Gideon around and make him feel welcome.”

“Are you sure that’s ...” Ken trailed off, and this time I was sure it was fear that did it. He knew the danger Gideon represented to him, but he also had to know that finishing that sentence could end very badly for him.

Gideon batted his lashes, doing a spectacular job of failing to appear innocent. “I promise I won’t misbehave. Not unless you want me to.”

Royce lifted a hand to rub his eyes. Mine had rolled so far that I could see the back of my skull.

Ken, on the other hand, flashed his fangs. “I’m not afraid of you. Touch me and I’ll finish whatever someone else started on your neck there.”

“Nice. Real nice. Hey, masturbating is supposed to relieve stress, so how about you go fuck yourself and come back when you feel better? Give me the grand tour when you aren’t about to piss yourself.”

“Ken, Gideon,” Royce cut in, voice sharp, “that’s enough. This is my home, and you will be civil.”

A bit of red brought some color into the blond vampire’s paper-white skin, right at the height of his razor-sharp cheekbones. Huh. Who knew vampires could blush?

“Right. Sorry.”

Gideon rose, giving my shoulder another pat before offering his hand—the one without the tattoo—to Ken. “I’m sorry, too. Sometimes I let my mouth run. Let’s start over, shall we?”

Though reluctant, at Royce’s nod, Ken accepted and shook Gideon’s hand. The set of his shoulders eased once it became clear the necromancer wasn’t doing it in an effort to bespell him.

Before Ken could lead him away, Royce spoke up. “There is one other matter that needs to be attended to before you go.”

Gideon tilted his head as he was addressed, a flicker of fear passing through the necromancer’s eyes when he saw the intensity of the older vampire’s gaze. “You can’t twist my thoughts like those sheeple.”