Sometimes, though, when Gideon slept in her bed, or with her in Daegan"s, his arms curled strong and sure around her hips, his head on her breast, lips so close to her nipple it ached for him in that nonstop carnality that seemed to plague and delight the vampire mind, she"d drift in his mind and see things there she wished she could forget.
As a human Mistress of a BDSM club, she"d already been a type of vampire. Feeding on the surrender of the males who came to her, the few who"d needed something extra special to let go of the reins and let her have them. She"d understood so many things about them without vampire senses, but now that she had those senses, it was almost irresistible to use that extra ability to forage that much deeper into a man"s mind. Particularly this man.
His mind was as much a battleground as hers. Whereas her field of combat was between sanity and surrender to those voices, his was a siege force, clustered around an almost impenetrable fortress. His will to be what he"d always been was that fortress. The idea that he was becoming the antithesis of everything that had given his life purpose for the past ten years or so was an increasing horde outside the gate, growing louder and more insistent every day. It disturbed his dreams, even under her stroking hands. During their waking hours, his attention was all upon her, but she knew in the end, the battle in his dreams would determine the difference between temporal devotion to a cause and true loyalty, from his heart.
She"d been surprised, at the beginning, by how little her ability to be in Gideon"s mind seemed to bother him. He encouraged her to do it if it would help her. But as she learned to navigate the pathways of his brain ever more deeply, she was chagrined to find out why. He felt he had few secrets she and Daegan didn"t already know. He"d lost his girlfriend to a vampire in high school, and he had a brother who was now a vampire, as well as servant to one of the most powerful vampires known.
What he didn"t realize, and what pained her, was finding how many of his thoughts and reactions were practically secrets to himself, things he"d buried far below his subconscious.
At different times, she"d pore over that buried treasure. Like when she hung in restraints, trying to get a grip on herself, or in the lethargic aftermath, when she lay on the couch, her head in Gideon"s lap as he stroked it, lulling her into the deep sleep that the seizures often caused.
Like many men, he wasn"t self-analytical. He knew what he knew about himself, and he assumed that was it. The inexplicable things he did didn"t require any explanation, because that would require an examination of feelings. Amused, she thought it was fortunate men weren"t required to do self-exams on their minds as women did for their breasts, because all manner of tumors would grow unchecked when they simply refused to turn their attention to them.
He didn"t define his feelings about her. She needed help, and he helped her. That alone might have ruffled her feathers, not wanting to be some “damsel in distress” to him, but she saw other things. No matter how violent or ugly her attack, he hungered for the intimacy of the aftermath. Like when her head was in his lap, her fingers curled under his thigh, lashes brushing her cheeks, soft lips relaxed, coaxing his fingers to touch them. Every once in a while she"d nip him when he tried, playing with him when she felt good enough. But he wanted to touch her everywhere. He couldn"t get enough of having her close. When she needed him so much, so clearly, there was no conflict for him.
Though it had been a long time since Gideon Green had had a woman in his life, he remembered with aching clarity what the casual intimacy felt like, as well as what it felt like to lose her. He would never again take for granted the ability to touch, flare his nostrils to take in her scent, or do any single thing to make her smile, to make life easier for her. Heavens above, he had his task cut out for him on that one.
She knew she hadn"t accepted that this was the way the whole rest of her life could be. From that perspective, the lengthening of her life span wasn"t a boon. She might need protection for the next few centuries to keep her from harming others. She might never again move freely down a city street, enjoying the night sounds and press of city crowds, go into Macy"s and browse through lingerie or check out a new gallery.
Beyond her selfish interests, how could she ask them to commit their lives to this? Daegan, who wouldn"t even leave to go get fresh blood when he"d been here, and Gideon, who"d become her shadow, sleeping right outside the cell they"d used for her seizures, until Brian had arrived. One very beneficial thing the scientist had brought with him were two sets of locking cuffs that couldn"t be broken by her vampire strength. They allowed her to have the seizure wherever she was, rather than having to imprison her further. Being bound and caged was intolerable to her, but she"d had to bear it. Having only the restraints was at least an improvement.
She"d been able to go back to her bed during her daylight sleep, instead of staying in the cell. Still, with Brian"s constant measurements and readings, and Gideon having to stick so close, there were times she intensely missed her solitude, her sanctuary from everything. Many mornings she"d lain alone in bed reading, listening to music, thinking over the night in the club, the adventures and banter of her staff. She"d taken that for granted, that freedom and ease of existence. The ability to truly be alone. How did she wrap her mind around a few centuries, when she couldn"t conceive of living this way for a few months?
Daegan had told her the bloodlust would die down, become more manageable. Their “hope” was that the madness, Barnabus"s schizophrenic shadows, would as well, when it wasn"t fueled by that fledgling-crazed hunger or transition.
When it all became too much, she took advantage of the pleasure of her servant"s body.
How easy it was to use him like that appalled her in some ways, thrilled her in others. Gideon was generous with his body, as all men could be. She wanted to challenge him more, because she"d always required more than a cock and a pretty face. She wanted the soul as well. The first night they"d met, she"d made it clear that she would always ask more than he was used to giving, and he had responded just as she"d craved, with passion and fury both. Then she"d been turned.