All that mattered.
Pausing until he could pinpoint her presence within the dark, abandoned brewery at the end of the alley, Gideon slipped forward. Oddly there was no sense of Tristan, but he did not lower his guard. With as much stealth as possible he pushed at the door nearly falling from its hinges.
The interior was dark, with the thick stench of mold and rotting straw. He eased into the shadows, pressing close to the wall as he scanned for danger.
It took only a moment for him to discover Simone tied to a post in a far corner. Her mouth was gagged and her hands wrenched behind her back and fastened with a thick rope. Even from a distance he could feel the terror that rolled from her in fierce waves.
Vowing to ensure that Tristan paid dearly for every bruise and scrape, Gideon moved silently forward.
“Simone,” he whispered in the heavy silence. “Do not fear. I will soon have you free.”
Strangely she gave a violent shake of her head, her terror only deepening.
Gideon grimly moved onward, not allowing himself to hesitate. Bloody hell, she surely could not believe that he was responsible for her kidnapping? Or that he would harm her in any manner?
Her head was still shaking as he circled the post and, using the dagger, began to cut through the ropes that bound her. Once he had her free he gently removed the gag and regarded her with a somber gaze.
“Listen to me carefully,” he said in low tones. “My servants are just down the alley. I want you to run as fast as you are able out the door and to the carriage. Do not look back or hesitate. Now, run.”
He gave her a firm shove, but with the stubborn perversity that was so much a part of her, she dug in her heels and turned to face him with a desperate gaze.
“No. Gideon, there are ...”
“Run,” he growled.
“You must come with me.”
“Damn.” Grabbing her arm he roughly hauled her to the door and shoved her through. Just as swiftly he closed the door in her face. “Now go,” he ordered through the heavy wood.
A shuffling from behind him had Gideon suddenly whirling about to discover four shabbily attired men leaving the shadows and walking toward him. With deliberate movements he shifted away from the door, silently praying that Simone had the sense to flee to the carriage. There were more dangers than Tristan’s henchmen in such a neighborhood.
Holding his dagger before him, Gideon narrowed his gaze. Even in the dim light he could see the blank emptiness in the men’s eyes. The Inscrollment that held them had destroyed their minds, but that only increased their threat. They would perform whatever Tristan had commanded them to do without fear and without halting until they were dead.
“Where is your master?” he demanded as he slowly backed from their steady advance.
“You have come,” one of the servants intoned.
“Halt or I will hurt you,” Gideon warned, fluidly moving so that he could keep his gaze on the four as they spread out as if to surround him.
“You have come,” another moaned.
Gideon was forced to take another step back, cursing the short dagger he held. Although the magic of the blade would kill a vampire, ironically it was no more than just another dagger to a human. He would be far better served with a sword.
If they attacked ...
But oddly they didn’t.
Gideon had taken two more steps backward before that realization struck.
Why were they not striking?
Surely Tristan would have commanded them to attack anyone who attempted to release the woman he had captured? Even if they could not slay a vampire.
Or was his intention something else?
Something more sinister?
Carefully watching the men shuffling toward him, Gideon coldly considered their deliberate movements. There was no rush to harm him, but they did seem to be intentionally herding him toward the back of the brewery. Step by slow step.
Deciding that what was behind him might very well be more dangerous than the scoundrels before him, Gideon gracefully whirled about, his heightened eyesight probing the dark shadows of the corner.
For long, tense moments he could detect nothing more ominous than the scurry of an occasional rat and the bones of some animal long dead. But just as he could feel the ruffians beginning to close in upon him he caught the faintest shimmer of power that had been woven in the shadows.
It was a spell that had been forbidden by the Great Council centuries ago. Hardly surprising. It was a nasty surprise for any vampire who might wander unwittingly into one. Once caught there was no escape from the deadly sleep that would force the poor victim to simply waste away.
A shiver of revulsion raced through him.
Now it all became clear.
