I had a different idea of a table centerpiece tonight. Want to hear what it was?

He cleared his throat. "I'm sure I don't, as much as I'm sure you're going to tell me anyway."

"Mmm." Turning on her side, she ran her other hand up his thigh, all the way to his inseam, raking her nails across the denim-covered curve of his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es. "I'd have the other man bound behind you like that, only he wouldn't be inside you. I'd just manacle you flush so you'd feel how hard he is, his c.o.c.k compressed against your a.s.s. He'd be getting f.u.c.ked from behind, by Daegan." Satisfaction speared through her at the jump in his c.o.c.k, the contraction of t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es beneath her thumb.

The movements, the grunts, would stir your possessiveness for Daegan. Your a.s.s would clench with a need you don't want to acknowledge as you hear Daegan's rasping breath. "By the time Daegan came, you'd want that other male gone from between you, want only Daegan behind you." Her fingers teased him. "When Daegan finally released you, he'd hook two fingers under your collar, the collar I put on you. He'd yank you onto your knees, bend down to kiss you. Something would break loose inside you so that Daegan would have to take you rough, pin you to the ground. You'd fight him, of course. In order to give yourself freedom to touch and taste, to feel, you need to fight, to strike out first. To tell him he's yours and you don't share what's yours. It's your way." "By the time Daegan came, you'd want that other male gone from between you, want only Daegan behind you." Her fingers teased him. "When Daegan finally released you, he'd hook two fingers under your collar, the collar I put on you. He'd yank you onto your knees, bend down to kiss you. Something would break loose inside you so that Daegan would have to take you rough, pin you to the ground. You'd fight him, of course. In order to give yourself freedom to touch and taste, to feel, you need to fight, to strike out first. To tell him he's yours and you don't share what's yours. It's your way."

Gideon tugged her hair at her knowing chuckle. "Don't be smug. It's unattractive."

"Not according to what I'm feeling beneath my cheek." She rubbed him there as he scowled.

"Jesus, do vampires ever ever stop thinking of s.e.x?" stop thinking of s.e.x?"

"No," Debra supplied helpfully from the driver's seat. "And they make it d.a.m.n hard for us to stop thinking about it as well."

Gideon found it immensely difficult to place anyone in the path of danger, male or female. h.e.l.l, it was why he'd worked solo for so long now. But being in the company of a woman, and in this case, two women, made him wish he had some of Brian's ability to knock a vampire senseless. Even if he'd had that ability, though, he knew Anwyn was right. It was going to take the both of them. Once they'd pulled off into a quiet copse of woods to change, they discussed their plans. Debra was going to drop them at the club and wait in the car until a predetermined point of time. At dawn, when the club closed, she'd leave, return to Brian for help or further instruction. Otherwise, hopefully she might be their getaway car, as she already knew several safe places they could go to ground for daylight.

Despite his trepidation, Gideon felt renewed admiration for his vampire Mistress when Anwyn calmly instructed Debra to pull right up to the curb next to valet parking. Appropriately, he got out first to hand her out of the vehicle. It also gave him time to a.s.sess the area.

The two working the entrance were vampires. The moment her scent was detectible from the car door, they went on alert, their eyes trained on that opening in a way that went beyond their casual perusal of the other oblivious human attendees filtering in.

Daegan would have known in the first few seconds that this club didn't house a reckless group of bloodsuckers, but if he thought they were killing people in the local towns or choosing marks from this club-and that part might be true, the numbers disguised by Stephen for Council reports-Daegan would have proceeded with his a.s.signment.

While the vampire had a strong, and mostly justified, opinion of his superiority, Gideon knew he wasn't rash. But they'd known he was coming, had time to plan. Just as Gideon feared, they'd set a trap for him, something Daegan hadn't expected, and it had worked. Plus, the vampire had an additional distraction this time. He'd done this to smooth the way to save Anwyn's life, preserve her status with the Council, and that would have overridden some normal caution in his approach. Gideon knew it, because he would have done the same if he were in Daegan's overpriced shoes. d.a.m.n it. d.a.m.n it.

The two vampires on the door were, as advertised, from military stock. He saw it in their bearing, level of attention and how they handled the weapons they carried. It was also in their quick recognition that Gideon had some of the same skills. Gideon forced himself to be deferential, not meeting their eyes to acknowledge what they were as he helped his Mistress out of the vehicle.

She'd brought a red dress with long sleeves and a high neck that clung to her from throat to midthigh like a wet skin. There was a diamond of sheer black cloth at the navel and between the b.r.e.a.s.t.s, showing her generous cleavage. Another in the back was so low that it was possible to discern the dimple between her b.u.t.tocks if a man strained his eyes. He didn't doubt there'd be plenty of eye straining. A jeweled belt rode low on her hips, crafted with chains and glittering red gems. Her heels were red stilettos, a staggering five inches. He had no idea how any woman could walk practically on her toes, but she not only did it, but also managed it with the right amount of swing in the hips, her a.s.s sitting up so high and tight no man could help but look at it. Her sable hair was loose, brushing against that pendulum sway, tempting a man's hands.

At her own club, when she dressed the part of Dominatrix, she was more severely put together. In this outfit, the s.e.xuality still pulsed around her, but it was like the allure of the Holy Grail. A man might hesitate to touch, but he'd do it with just a little encouragement from those lush lips. This look said she was a Mistress, but one still young in her skills, a bit wild and reckless with the s.e.xual vibes. One who might need a strong hand to help her rein them in and guide her. He thought Daegan would admire it as much as he did . . . and still have trouble rolling his tongue back in his mouth if he could see her.

Actually, if this had been the three of them going to a club for their own enjoyment, a disturbingly intriguing thought, Gideon expected the vampire would simply unsheathe his fangs and make it clear anyone who tried to touch her would lose more than fingers. He had a similar feeling himself, but one he had to curb, because that wasn't the role he was supposed to play here. f.u.c.k and double d.a.m.n it.

As he closed the door, he gave Debra an even look and a nod, which she returned before she drove off, headed to the parking area. It was late enough that the crowd was thinning a little, but music still pumped out of the club like a fountain.

Gideon produced the envelope that Brian had given him and handed it over to the vampire at the door, managing an obsequious nod of his head that let him scan what the man was carrying. Probably a Bowie knife, some smaller knives and of course a wire to decapitate silently and with less muss, laced behind his dark belt. Both men were dressed in black fatigues.

"Welcome, Mistress Anwyn," one of them said with a slight nod of his head, his dark eyes roving over her in speculation. Gideon had to suppress an urge to step in front of her as he saw that despicable game begin, the way vampires tested one another, seeing what the pecking order might be. What they could get away with toward her. "You may prefer to skip the upper floor and go directly to the second level. The public and private viewing rooms there offer our kind more intense entertainments."

"How kind," she said, her voice that throaty purr she did so well. "Actually, I'm interested in all levels of the club, since I run my own fetish club in the States. Club Atlantis? Would the proprietor have the time and kindness to give me a more in-depth tour?"

It was a calculated risk. If Lord Stephen had shared any background on Daegan that might include his involvement with Anwyn, the game was up before she'd gotten out of the car. Gideon watched their reactions closely as the two guards glanced at each other.

"He's on the grounds tonight, but is currently entertaining another guest." There was an unpleasant glint of fang as the two guards shared the private joke. Unfortunately, Gideon was all too aware of the meaning. A flash of heat shot through Anwyn's eyes, a warning of stirred blood, but then it was gone before he could tense in preparation. She was keeping it leashed down d.a.m.n well. He knew her desire to find Daegan was pumping behind a wall like a dike about to blow.

"However," the guard continued, his gaze undressing her again, "while 'kind' is not a word normally applied to Master Xavier, he might be willing, if you have an incentive to offer him."

Her spine straightened, just enough, and she met his gaze. "I understand the pleasure of incentives . . . for our kind. I might be willing to entertain them, for Master Xavier specifically." She gave a cool smile. "I'll hope he is available, so we can make the tour mutually pleasurable. Until then, I need no guide. I'll enjoy wandering through the club, making my own impressions."

Giving a quick flash of smile, she shifted her hips, tossed her hair back. "If that's permissible, I promise not to bite anyone."

The right combination of promise and denial. Of course, this was just getting in the door. Obviously not forewarned, unless they were better actors than Gideon suspected, the guards had no reason to be suspicious. Why would anyone be rescuing a vampire a.s.sa.s.sin from the bowels of their club, after all? Since Daegan's capture had been an ambush set up by a Council member, there was no reason for Xavier to be concerned about an obvious fledgling.

Gideon was sure Xavier was blood-connected to his two bouncers, so they'd likely already given him a mental heads-up, a mind "videocam" of their new arrival. While Anwyn had considerable weapons at her disposal, and she was vampire, she couldn't stand against even one of these older and more experienced vamps. Definitely not in those heels. Of course, toe-to-toe, he likely couldn't either. She was the one with the wits; he was the brawn. He'd let her lead until the time came for otherwise.

Let me lead? Perhaps I'll me lead? Perhaps I'll allow allow you to take over when I know it's wise. you to take over when I know it's wise.

Typical woman. But he was glad to hear her voice in his head with the admonishment. She'd a.s.sumed the role, pushing the rest aside for now. That was what they both needed for this to work.

"The hostess will come find you when the owner is free," the one said, handing back the note. Anwyn pa.s.sed it to Gideon without looking at him, and he took it, sliding it into his jacket. She'd let him keep his dark jeans, but his chest was bare beneath the coat, the scarlet trinity visible on his left pectoral above his heart. He also wore the collar she'd bought for him, distinctive and bold on his neck. Even now, despite the circ.u.mstances, it was still capable of giving him that weird feeling.

He'd made a calculated risk by visibly arming himself, counting on vampire arrogance. He waited impa.s.sively to see if he'd made a mistake as they had him open the coat so they could see the shoulder harness for the steel knives and gun.

"My servant is protective of me," she noted with an indulgent smile. "But I expect I won't have any problems here."

"No," the doorman said. "There's not much he could do against us. He can keep his pretty toys. Good-quality knives," he noted with a soldier's approval.

Gideon thought of the thirty-six vampires like this smug b.a.s.t.a.r.d, the ones he'd staked in a variety of unexpected ways. It helped him keep his expression neutral as he inclined his head and followed Anwyn into the bowels of the Coffin.

It was the typical Goth club with a vampire fetish, almost a cliche, though a cla.s.sy and expensive one. Lots of vampire paraphernalia, like the useless garlic cloves and many flashing silver and gold crosses hanging from the rafters. If someone came in with a cross, they were encouraged to loop it over the beams, a playful admission that they were throwing any protection for their souls away as they entered. Gideon saw a wide variety up there, everything from cheap pewter costume wear to crosses that might have been given to a kid as a graduation gift and lost in a moment of drunken stupidity. He didn't doubt that among them were crosses the vampires had placed there, sly trophies of actual kills amid harmless props.

True to the modus operandi of a smart bad guy, other transgressions in the club were kept to a minimum. He didn't see any indications of hard-drug users, dealers or professionals hustling the crowd. He didn't suspect these vamps feared law enforcement, though. Police were just an annoying inconvenience that could ruin the sweet deal they'd built here. No kills would ever be connected to this place. They'd be found far from these hallowed doors, if at all. He'd seen enough of this kind of vampire to know right away these guys killed when they wanted to kill, not at Council discretion or in respect of the "twelve human deaths per year allowed" rule. And Stephen covered for them so they'd do his dirty work. a.s.shole, conniving-p.r.i.c.k weasel.

Anwyn had stopped, staring up at the crosses. She grazed her fingers along them, so that they moved against one another like wind chimes. You'd expect the gateway to h.e.l.l to look like this. Childishly whimsical and horrible at once. You'd expect the gateway to h.e.l.l to look like this. Childishly whimsical and horrible at once.

Can you hear him, Anwyn? He moved closer, concerned about the tone of her mind, but she glanced over her shoulder at him with clear eyes, even as she took her hand down, sc.r.a.ped those nails high on his thigh, teasing at his groin. He moved closer, concerned about the tone of her mind, but she glanced over her shoulder at him with clear eyes, even as she took her hand down, sc.r.a.ped those nails high on his thigh, teasing at his groin.

No. Either he's not answering because he doesn't want us here, or he's unconscious.

Well, tell the b.a.s.t.a.r.d we're not leaving until we find him, so if he's awake, he might as well help us out so we're not walking in blind. He dipped his head, kissed her shoulder beneath the cloth of the snug dress, nuzzled until she pushed him away with studied indifference, and moved onward. He dipped his head, kissed her shoulder beneath the cloth of the snug dress, nuzzled until she pushed him away with studied indifference, and moved onward.

As he'd noted, it was a thinning crowd because of the late hour, so it made her that much more noticeable. Anwyn sauntered without any obvious haste, taking advantage of it. As if she were at a gallery, she studied the slaves who'd been hung on meat hooks with leather straps. Most were being tormented in some way by their Doms, or whoever they allowed to touch them. She was granted the invitation to touch by almost every Master and Mistress. Occasionally she took the opportunity.

With a curve of those mysterious lips, she slid her knuckles oh-so-lightly down a male thigh, caressed or weighed quivering t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es in her palm. Once, she bent to touch her lips to the sweat-slick abdomen of a young woman, so near climax that the kiss almost set her off, earning her the whip of her pleased Mistress. No matter the vampire dynamic, the hard-core could tell what Anwyn was. It was like recognizing royalty, and treating her accordingly. When she turned her gaze to any slave, they attuned to her, almost before their Dom or Domme directed them to do so.

It was an admirable strategy. She knew she was under scrutiny, and not by the club patrons. Somewhere, someone was watching, and she was calling him to her as skillfully as any sorceress, challenging a more experienced wizard to come put her in her place.

A dangerous and mesmerizing game, because he knew what she was attracting, and what their endgame was. Gideon divided his focus between her and a constant surveillance of his surroundings, which would be expected since he was already recognized as combat trained. He noted exits, obstacles, crowd groupings. Within them, he separated staff from clients, vampires from humans.

While he did, he said little in his mind, and neither did she. It wasn't necessary. Their minds were in perfect sync, an open radio channel waiting. Of course, thanks to her goading in the car and that synchronization, his body was no less susceptible to her magic than any other slave, hard and aching despite their purpose here.

I've seen the spy shows on television, Gideon. Everyone knows the best covers are those that are the closest to the truth.

That seductive tone, spinning him into her web. Every touch she dispensed, every look she gave, sent a wash of heat through him. He'd moved closer to her, so that her shoulder blades brushed his chest when she shifted. She was aware of him behind her, the protection and the offer at once. He was still just as alert to his surroundings, still cognizant of why they were there, but by falling into her natural role, just as he'd suggested, she'd brought him into it with her.

Turning into him, she threaded her hand through his hair, taking a tight hold, and yanked him down to her mouth for a hot kiss. Her tongue worked his as deftly as if she were sucking his c.o.c.k, giving him that mental image to fog his antennae before she sank her fangs into the side of his mouth, from inside the cheek and outside, puncturing between the two.

The pain was excruciating, the nerve cl.u.s.ters there dense enough to render him almost insensible for a second, his fingers automatically clutching her hips in protest. Yet he didn't try to pull away from her. Later he would realize he wouldn't have, even if they were standing in the middle of her club at home, no threat to him but how she could make him into this. Her slave, willing to do anything to give her pleasure. She licked the blood away, soothing and abrading the throbbing ache at once, and dropped her hand to cup his b.a.l.l.s in the snug jeans, ma.s.saging him there.

You know I could just squeeze, crush them and make you a eunuch forever?

What good would that do you, Mistress? He jerked his head up then, met her gaze with fire. Her grip tightened until it became painful, until he had to let out a gasp, which he strangled down to a growl. He jerked his head up then, met her gaze with fire. Her grip tightened until it became painful, until he had to let out a gasp, which he strangled down to a growl.

You wouldn't ever look at another woman without my permission.

He couldn't have been more surprised if she'd punched him in the face. He'd been watching her kiss the naked slave, and sure, he'd have to be dead not to appreciate the wondrous variety of t.i.ts available at eye level every which way he looked. Big, small, jiggling, firm, clamped, pierced . . .

Jesus. He sucked in a breath as that flesh-and-bone nutcracker increased its grip. He sucked in a breath as that flesh-and-bone nutcracker increased its grip.

"Perhaps," she murmured against his mouth, "I should make you drop your pants, walk with them around your ankles as if you were a shuffling prisoner, and let all these women have equal time to ogle your big c.o.c.k, your fine a.s.s, and wonder if I might give it to one of them. Or . . . perhaps you should apologize and keep your eyes down, on my feet, until I tell you whether you have my permission to look at anything anything."

He could tell nothing from her mind, because now it was filled with this. The vampire side of her, strong and in full force, a herald of what she would become if she could pull it out so easily now. There was a vicious undercurrent to it that suggested she was letting her bloodl.u.s.t rise. Or it was rising, whether she wanted it to do so or not. If he a.s.sumed the former, since the latter just couldn't happen right now or they were all dead, the question was: Was this real, or was there an ulterior motive? It helped convince those watching that she was absorbed in the pleasures of the club, for sure, and that she was a bada.s.s vampire, but the intent he felt pulsing from her was very real. As was the response he gave her.

"I'd rather spend the rest of my life staring at your beautiful legs and a.s.s than at any other woman."

"I said my feet."

"That, too. But my gaze has an unavoidable range, Mistress." He flinched when she caught the back of his nape and sank her fangs into that same spot beside his mouth again. f.u.c.k, if the Council ever decided they needed a torturer as well as an a.s.sa.s.sin, he'd have a great candidate.

"Your feet, Mistress," he grated out when she released him. "I'll keep my eyes on your feet."

She stroked the hair at his neck with deceptive tenderness. "See that you do. Or I'll shove something the size of your fist up your a.s.s and make you keep it there all night so you remember it."

"Breaking in a servant is always a pleasure and a curse at once, isn't it?"

Anwyn slowly pivoted on her heel, using Gideon's body as a wall, leaning against him. Crossing her ankles, she reached back with both arms to take a nice grip on the part she'd just been threatening, rubbing herself against his c.o.c.k in a sly little move as she tossed her hair again, lashing his neck with it. It gave the approaching vampire an eyeful of thrusting breast, the taunting impression that she was bound, when she was not.

"More pleasure than curse, truly," she said. "You must be the owner."

"Xavier." The male moved forward from the shadows and Gideon kept his eyes down, though Anwyn sent him a clear enough picture. A big motherf.u.c.ker, tall as Daegan, but not lean and graceful. This one looked exactly like what he was, the most dangerous possible combination. A thug with a brain, his intelligence showing through the burning clarity in his gaze. "Mistress Anwyn, let me welcome you to my club properly."

He moved faster than she or Gideon could antic.i.p.ate. One second, they were standing; the next, Gideon stifled a curse as he was slammed against a wall. Anwyn was still in front of him, only now she was mashed between Gideon's body and Xavier's. He had his hand collared around her throat, his thumb forcing her chin up.

"You don't draw blood in my club, fledgling. It attracts unnecessary attention." Bending, he licked the corner of Anwyn's mouth where Gideon's blood had been. Anwyn trembled, managing to pull it off as a shudder of desire, but Gideon knew differently. One blatant movement, forcing her in between the two of them, and those shadow creatures were trying to drag her down, take her back into an alley. The stench of vampires and blood all around her, no escape, no ability to move, seeing what was coming.

I'm here, Anwyn. It's not the alley. We're here to help Daegan. He's just testing you. You know it. Remember, Daegan is here. We have to find Daegan.

Xavier had maneuvered them so quickly, her hands were still gripping Gideon's a.s.s, but now she shifted her grip so her thumbs hooked his belt, holding on for support and reminder, not provocation. Gideon would have given anything to offer her more, but he had to settle for the slightest movement of his thumb along one hip, his breath at the crown of her head, his heart pounding steadily between her shoulder blades. He didn't allow himself to think anything. He couldn't descend into the rage that normally would have taken him over, or get trapped by the helpless fury that he couldn't help her right now. He reminded himself, and her by proxy, that they were in charge of this situation, regardless, because Xavier didn't know why they were here.

You're the scariest b.i.t.c.h imaginable when you want to be, whether you're facing man or bloodsucker.

She got that message, loud and clear. Her finger loosened on his belt, though she continued to hold it. "My apologies, Master Xavier." She tilted her head, her hair whispering over his beefy knuckles, their continued grip on her throat. "Unlike you, we allow bloodletting at Atlantis, under controlled circ.u.mstances. Even before I became a vampire. Do you usually handle Mistresses as if they're your personal slaves? I don't think I'd get repeat business at my club if I allowed that."

Her voice didn't shake now. She even managed to convey cool disdain.

Xavier gazed down at her. It was taking everything Gideon had to stay still, be her submissive wall, when that hand still rested on her throat, the male's saliva probably still drying on the corner of her mouth. But it was then he felt it. A pulsing rage coming through her, fuzzy and somewhat disoriented, but unmistakable in its homicidal intent.

Daegan was alive. And murderously awake.

18.

HIS reaction to their presence was also unmistakable, strong enough that Gideon wasn't entirely sure if the rage was directed at Xavier for touching Anwyn, or at the two of them, for trying to come after him. Anwyn's mind was still open to his, so that he heard the flood of thoughts. It alarmed him, how disjointed they sounded.

Run . . . Don't . . . Can't protect. Where . . . How got here . . . His voice faded away. His voice faded away.

He's been weakened somehow. Anwyn's thought, laced with anger and apprehension, stiffened her body against Xavier's touch more than even her cool response should have warranted. Anwyn's thought, laced with anger and apprehension, stiffened her body against Xavier's touch more than even her cool response should have warranted.

Steady, Gideon warned. He dared more of a caress at her hips, making it look as if he were taking a better grip to brace himself against the insistent pressure of Xavier against her.

"Careful, fledgling," Xavier said. He sounded amused, but nothing in his expression suggested it. "You may be queen of your little club at home, but you're on my turf here. I'll strip you down, hang you upside down on one of those meat hooks and whip your little a.s.s through your panties until they're in tatters, like that unwise pride of yours." He leaned in, his breath an insidious intrusion against her ear, hot and revolting against Gideon's thundering pulse. "There are no rules except power among vampires, little one. No matter what bulls.h.i.t the Council's been feeding you."

"You can't get panties under this dress." She turned her face so her lips almost brushed his. Arching her back like a purring cat, she curved her leg around the back of Xavier's. It had to press his c.o.c.k right up against her crotch, because she wrapped her flexible leg so high her knee brushed his a.s.s.

Being in her mind, Gideon witnessed something remarkable. She compartmentalized, as if she were doing summer cleaning and putting things in boxes under a bed, only she did it in a rapid blink. Bam, bam, bam, the alley vanished. Every horrible transition moment vanished, the restraints, all of it. Even that brief glimpse he'd been given of her childhood got contained and thrust into the shadows, knocking the shadow creatures away like bowling pins. All that remained was Anwyn, a Mistress walking into a room and facing down her prey.

She'd learned, too many times now, that there was no way she could control the seizures if they wanted to come. Yet with Daegan in danger, it seemed she was going to refuse to let it happen. The effort of it reminded Gideon of mothers who lifted cars to save their children. The consequences of such an effort, the fallout it would bring, were secondary to her, no matter what happened later.

Leaning her head back on Gideon's shoulder, she angled her chin to nuzzle his neck above the collar. It deliberately exposed her throat. Xavier's eyes crawled over it greedily. "I'm sure you can beat me up or kill me, Xavier. But is fear the only way you'll earn my respect? The man who created all this"-her gaze pa.s.sed over the club-"has a brain."

Her shifting pressed her a.s.s into Gideon's groin. Of course his was probably nowhere near as excited as Xavier's probably was at her taunt.

Stop this . . . Run.

Shut up, Daegan. Gideon didn't know if he could hear him through Anwyn's mind, but he had to try. Gideon didn't know if he could hear him through Anwyn's mind, but he had to try. She can't afford the distraction right now. She can't afford the distraction right now.

A muttering grumble, like a distant storm thunder, but it subsided. Good. Good. It suggested Daegan, while somehow drugged, was cognizant. Xavier smiled, showing a wide mouth with a hint of fang. "A tour of the circus means you have to pay for a ticket." It suggested Daegan, while somehow drugged, was cognizant. Xavier smiled, showing a wide mouth with a hint of fang. "A tour of the circus means you have to pay for a ticket."

"I'll gladly pay it. If what I see is worth the price of admission."

"I am a pay-up-front man." Xavier eased back enough to let his gaze walk with blatant crudeness down her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, to her crotch. "I'm civilized, but I'm also a beast. The beast in me needs to see you sucking my big c.o.c.k, before I'm willing to prove anything to you." His eyes glowed red in the darkness of the club. "You sashayed your a.s.s in here, and got the attention of d.a.m.n near every Master and Mistress. You did it to taunt me, and now you pay a price for that. We both know I'm just indulging you. I don't owe you s.h.i.t. Go to your knees now, show me respect, and then we'll give you that tour."

"You'll have to beat me to unconsciousness in front of them to get me to do that."

Her words cut through Gideon's haze of rage. He wanted to stake him so badly he nearly trembled with it, fury filling him with such strong purpose he knew it wasn't only his own. It belonged to him and Daegan, anyone daring to touch her, to force her. They'd never let it happen to her again, even if they had to torch the whole d.a.m.n world to prevent it.

However, her statement cut through all that. He felt a deadly calm pa.s.s through her mind, stilling the faintest breeze of anxiety or shadowy whisper. It was something he'd never felt from her before, though there was something tumultuous and terrifyingly familiar about it. Like the silence before a tornado came. The largest, most powerful twister possible, one that would turn on her and blast her to shreds if she lost control now. But she was more than controlling it, keeping it at bay. She was f.u.c.king channeling it as her own personal weapon, to hold her own against this wall of bloodsucking muscle and every schizophrenic voice in her head trying to pull her down.

"I've met many big and powerful men, Xavier," she said softly, and there was that same dead calm in the tone, something that would catch the attention of even a hardened psychopath, give him a trickle of unease. Gideon knew the hairs on his own neck were standing up at that eerie tone. "The ones that like to threaten, that tell a woman that she's got to be on her knees or else. Those are the ones that wish just the reverse were true. They want to meet the woman who can order them to their their knees, force them to do it by the will of her mind alone, to punish them for every transgression they've committed against a woman. To heal the sickness in their hearts. They're seeking divine absolution from a G.o.ddess they can't summon before them. One they challenge every single time they abuse a woman, daring Her to come down and punish them." knees, force them to do it by the will of her mind alone, to punish them for every transgression they've committed against a woman. To heal the sickness in their hearts. They're seeking divine absolution from a G.o.ddess they can't summon before them. One they challenge every single time they abuse a woman, daring Her to come down and punish them."

She straightened, which moved her closer so she and Xavier were facing each other with several inches between them. "Now, are you going to give me a tour of the club and impress me with what you've created, or are you going to continue to try and threaten me with your d.i.c.k? I've seen plenty of them, and never found them particularly intimidating." A feline smile curved her lips. "A man's mind, his ability to create Rome, to conquer nations, that's power. Not forcing a woman one-third his size to suck his c.o.c.k on the dirty floor of a s.e.x club."