Alexandra Ivy - My Lord Vampire

The two slowly began to circle one another, both warily waiting for the other to strike. Simone pressed a hand to her mouth, anxious not to distract Gideon for even a moment.

They continued to circle, then without warning Tristan simply vanished in a wisp of fog, just as abruptly appearing behind Gideon and slamming his hands into the back of his head.

Gideon staggered but swiftly turned to face the vampire.

Tristan flowed backward, careful to avoid the dagger, his lips pulled into a vicious smile.

“What is it you want, Gideon?” he demanded. “A share in the power?”

“I have no desire for power, Tristan. I only wish to protect the Veil.”

The mist again swallowed Tristan and to her horror, Simone watched as a deep cut appeared on Gideon’s cheek.

“Show yourself, you coward,” Gideon snapped, suddenly shifting as the mist gathered behind him and more blood began to pour from a cut on his back.

“Join me, Gideon,” a disembodied voice whispered. “Together we could rule the world.”

“Your thirst for power has driven you mad,” Gideon retorted, fluidly turning to watch as Tristan again reappeared. “You would sacrifice us all for your own glory.”

“But of course.” The vampire laughed in a scornful manner. “My glory is all that concerns me.”

“It will not be allowed,” Gideon warned, his hand clenched tight upon the dagger in his hand.

Across the room Simone could feel his sharp emotions. As much as he might detest what the vampire had become in his frenzy for power, he still wavered in using the dagger. He could as easily have plunged the weapon in his own heart.

No doubt aware of Gideon’s reluctance, Tristan gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

“There is no one who can halt me. Not even Nefri.”

Gideon surged forward, but as swiftly as he moved he was not quick enough. In the blink of an eye, Tristan was gone and suddenly Simone felt the deadly cold clutch of his fingers as they clutched about her neck. Shock held her still as Tristan tightened his grip and she felt the air being squeezed from her body.

“No,” Gideon cried.

“Tell her to give me the Medallion, Gideon,” he warned in icy tones. Simone desperately sought to breathe, her eyes wide with fright even as she gave a faint shake of her head.

“Let her go,” Gideon commanded, his face set in lines of deadly determination.

“Only after she has given me what I desire.”

“Tristan ...”

“She is dying. I can feel her life slipping away. Now tell her to give me the Medallion,” Tristan growled, giving Simone a shake.

“No.”

Fighting the darkness that threatened to consume her, Simone watched Gideon abruptly straighten. Behind her Tristan tensed, prepared to battle a sudden attack. But just as Simone realized that Gideon would never reach her before Tristan could snap her neck, there was a blur of movement and a shocked gasp of disbelief from behind her.

The hand about her neck fell away and stumbling to her knees, Simone shifted about to see Tristan lying on the hard floor with the dagger deeply plunged into his heart.

Still panting with the effort of trying to breathe through her bruised throat, Simone felt Gideon come to kneel beside her. Her gaze, however, remained upon the body next to her.

In horror she watched a shimmering glow outline the long form, flickering in the dim light, then appallingly the body began to turn to ash. Her eyes widened as Tristan simply crumbled onto the floor until there was nothing left but the faintest trace of darkness upon the stone.

A comforting arm encircled her trembling body and Gideon pressed a kiss to her temple.

“It is done.”

Chapter 13

For a moment Gideon simply held on to Simone, allowing the warmth of her to seep into his chilled heart.

He had not realized how difficult it would be to kill Tristan. Not even when he had known that his own life was held in the balance could he force himself to plunge the dagger into the traitor. To bring the life of a vampire to an end went against every moral he possessed.

It was not until Tristan had dared to threaten Simone that his revulsion had been thrust aside and he had reacted without even thinking.

Now, however, reaction was setting in and he shivered in disgust.

Not only at having killed, but the knowledge that he had very nearly waited too long.

One more moment and Simone would be dead.

And he would have been entirely to blame.

His arms tightened about her, his lips unable to stop stroking the satin skin of her temple. He had to reassure himself that she was alive and in his embrace where she belonged.

“Simone, are you harmed?” he demanded in rasping tones.

He felt her shiver as she leaned against him. “Nothing that will not heal.”

“Damnation,” he cursed his weakness at the sound of her strained voice. It was obvious her throat had been injured. “I was terrified Tristan would kill you before I could reach you. I had no choice but to throw the dagger and hope for the best.”

Her fingers rose to touch the amulet that lay upon her skin. “He was too determined to have the Medallion,” she husked.

Gideon gave a slow nod of his head. He was well aware that it had been Tristan’s obsession for the Medallion that had made him hesitate in striking Simone down.

He could only thank Nefri that he had paused.

“Yes. It was his downfall. That and his confidence that I would not choose to destroy him. I very nearly waited too long.”

Easily able to sense his inner turmoil, Simone raised her hand to gently lay it against his cheek.

“Gideon, do not.”

His lips thinned. “I allowed him to hurt you.”

“You attempted to give him an opportunity to save himself,” she argued in soft, but ruthless tones. “Had you simply killed him without remorse or regret you would be no better than he.”

Her words, of course, made sense, but he was not yet prepared to accept what he had done.

“He had become crazed with his lust for the Medallion.”

Simone slowly turned her head to regard the darkened stones. “What happened to him?”

With reluctance, Gideon reached out to retrieve the dagger that lay on the ground.

“The power of the blade destroyed his soul.”

Her breath caught. “His soul?”

“It is as if he never existed. A horrible fate for any vampire.”

As if at last truly comprehending just how final a death Tristan had suffered, Simone regarded him with sad eyes.

“I am sorry, Gideon.”

“As am I.” He briefly thought of his arrogant certainty when he had arrived in London. He had never thought that Tristan would prove so relentless. It had seemed a simple matter to convince him of the error of his ways, and to escort him to the Great Council. “I did not believe it would come to this.”

There was a faint pause as Simone studied his tortured expression.

“Why were you sent to face him?” she at last demanded. “Surely there were others more capable?”

His pride was ridiculously pricked by her abrupt question. Did she feel as if he had somehow failed her?

“More capable?”

“I presume that vampires can be as different from one another as humans are. There must have been another who would not have been so reluctant to face Tristan.”

He frowned at her perception, for the first time actually pondering the reason he had been called before the Great Council. It was true that there were those who would have been quite anxious to punish the renegades. Some far more talented in the arts of battle than he.

“I do not know,” he slowly confessed. “At the time I was told I had been chosen I presumed that it was because I was intelligent and always logical. Now ...”