car about one a.m., Monday, but witnesses put the time you left the Bell, Book, and Candle at about eleven-thirty. Where did you go in between?”
“I stopped to get food. Wegmans, on Mt. Read,” He replied, naming a popular local grocery store chain.
Gideon’s dark eyes caught Thalia’s for a moment, and his gaze hit her like a sledgehammer, taking her breath away. His eyes gleamed red with bloodlust and pain. The two detectives didn’t seem to notice, but Thalia felt his struggle deep inside as he expertly dismissed each of their suspicions, reinforcing each answer with a subtle mental suggestion. His use of power raised swirling currents of energy she saw as shimmering veils of color hanging in the air. Transparent ribbons that waved in a nonexistent wind, green and blue and purple, as delicate and erratic as the northern lights.
By the time the detectives seemed satisfied, sweat beaded Gideon’s forehead. “I hope you don’t mind if I let Thalia walk you to the door.” Gideon raised a weak hand to his raven head. “Unfortunately, my migraine seems to be getting worse.” The extreme pallor of his skin backed up his claim, and the officers rushed to assure him that was fine, falling over each other to thank him for his assistance. You would have thought he was a rock star. God, she hoped she didn’t act that giddy around him.
Thalia gave a sigh of relief as she closed and locked the front door behind them. She rushed back to Gideon’s side and sank to her knees on the red, black, and gold patterned Oriental rug beside his chair. She reached out to take his hand, but he flinched away. Thalia swallowed the pain caused by his rebuff, cleared her throat, and got to her feet. “What can I do?”
“Get away from me,” he growled.
Tears sprang unbidden into her eyes, but she bit them back. His head hung, as if the effort to hold it up was too great. He grabbed her arm and pulled her close, so she could see his eyes. The faint red gleam had become a glowing red flame. “I must have blood. And I can’t take yours.”
Chapter 11
Gideon fought the demon with every shred of control he possessed, but he lost ground with each passing moment. The scent of Thalia, the rhythmic cadence of her pulse, the bloom of her skin, all called to him like heroin to an addict. The ripe promise of her blood was only an illusion, but his starved body knew no reason.
He threw her arm away and she stumbled back, pain written clearly on her lovely face. He gripped the arms of his chair, struggling to banish the urge to seize her in his arms, sink his teeth into the succulent flesh of her neck, and drink his fill. Claws sprang from his fingertips and punctured the fine Spanish leather.
“What can I do?” she asked again.
“I’ve already depleted my stores from the blood bank. I can’t venture out until dusk. As the hours pass, I will lose my hold on my animal nature. I’m already a danger to you and even to Spirit. I will go back to my room and you will chain me to the bed.” He didn’t, couldn’t, look at her as he gave the degrading instructions. “Don’t release me, no matter what I say, until it is fully dark.” Under normal circumstances, he could withstand the soft light of twilight, but as weak as he was, the slightest hint of sunlight might turn him to dust.
“Let me call the detectives back...”
“No. I can make them forget, but they may have strange dreams. We can’t afford to make them suspicious in any way. You must do as I ask.”
Thalia shook her head mutinously, tears glistened in her eyes, but he sensed her concession. She would comply.
Leave him to suffer? Thalia desperately searched her mind for alternatives as she reluctantly fastened the special chains over Gideon and stepped away from the bed.
The elegant confines of his bedroom now resembled the bleak austerity of an asylum. She had stripped the ornaments from the surfaces and walls at his command so he couldn’t use them to escape or hurt himself. He’d clung courageously to rationality while she’d worked. A sheen of sweat had coated his forehead as he’d leaned white-knuckled against the door jam, clearly caught up in his internal struggle.
Now safely chained, the last vestige of sanity slipped from his eyes. The heated glow of bloodlust took its place.