My Lord Vampire

He froze at the sight of the shabby, gray-haired gypsy who stood regarding him with a mysterious smile.

“Nefri,” he breathed, instinctively bowing low in respect. Even from a distance he could feel the power that radiated from her small, bent form and the relentless intelligence that burned in the dark eyes.

“Stop that nonsense,” she commanded with a hint of amusement in her tone. Waiting until he had straightened she waved a gnarled hand in the direction of a nearby chair. “Sit down so I do not need to strain my neck to look you in the eye.”

Obediently lowering himself into the chair, Gideon regarded her with a faint frown. Even though she was using her powers to alter her appearance, he realized that she would not have revealed herself if the need were not dire.

“What has occurred?” he demanded. “Is it Tristan?”

The old gypsy’s lips thinned at the mention of the renegade. “That is one vampire who could use a good strapping,” she said in short tones. “He could never be satisfied with what he possessed. Like a child, he always desired what he could not have.”

Gideon recalled the deadly mind snare that had been set to trap him.

“He is rather more dangerous than a child.”

Nefri gave a slow nod, her expression becoming somber. “Yes, I suppose he is, at that.”

“Has he left London?” Gideon demanded, knowing that Nefri would be keeping careful guard on all the traitors.

“For a time. However, he returned before dusk far more dangerous than when he left.”

Gideon stilled at the undoubted warning. More dangerous? He had already murdered helpless innocents, had Simone kidnapped and had set a trap for him that had been forbidden for centuries.

How could he possibly be more dangerous?

His features unconsciously tightened with determination. Whatever surprises Tristan had devised, he would not be allowed to harm Simone. Nor to get his greedy hands upon the Medallion. No matter what Gideon had to do to halt him.

“Then I will seek him out and destroy him,” he said in even tones.

Nefri regarded him steadily. “He will not allow you to find him until he is prepared. And you must recall that at the moment his powers are greater than your own.”

Gideon grimaced with impatience. “I cannot simply wait until he attempts to harm Si ... Lady Gilbert once again.”

A sudden smile touched the lips of the older woman at Gideon’s revealing slip of the tongue. A smile that was more than a bit worrisome.

“She is a dear child, is she not?” she demanded in sweetly innocent tones. “But so fragile with the burdens she carries. She needs a strong gentleman she can depend upon when she is forced to confront Tristan.”

Although he sensed he was being ruthlessly maneuvered, Gideon did not hesitate in his response.

“I will be at her side.”

Surprisingly, Nefri gave a slow shake of her head. “No, I fear you will not.”

Gideon stiffened in annoyance. Did the powerful vampire believe that he would fail Simone when she needed him the most? Or that he perhaps feared to face Tristan?

It was unconscionable.

“What do you mean?” he rasped sharply.

“She will not turn to you for assistance if she does not trust you.”

With a jerk Gideon was on his feet. Damnation. Nefri had managed to strike at him where he was most vulnerable. Simone did not yet trust him. Even when she had lain in his arms through the long night he had felt the barriers that she kept between them. There were still too many secrets, too many reasons to remain wary of one another.

“I have done all in my power to win her trust,” he said defensively.

Nefri gave a slow shake of her head. “You have not yet told her the truth of yourself.”

He shoved his fingers through the long hair that he had not yet tied back.

“If I tell her the truth she will be more terrified of me than ever. You know as well as I do how mortals react to the mere mention of vampires. Most do not believe we exist, and those who do consider us monsters.”

“Until there is truth between you there can be no trust,” she retorted with unshakable logic.

Gideon turned about as his stomach twisted in dread. As much as he disliked the wariness he could sense within Simone, it was far preferable to watching her flee from him in disgust.

She would never understand, he told himself as pain lanced through his heart. The myth of vampires being savage beasts who preyed upon hapless humans was too deeply ingrained. And the very fact that Tristan was ravaging his way through St. Giles would only add to her fear.

If he confessed, he would lose her forever.

He sucked in a sharp breath. He could not bear the loss.

“It is impossible,” he said in tortured tones.

“I thought you once said that very little is impossible, Gideon,” Nefri lightly teased.