Chapter 19
The slightly pointed
tips of Gideon’s ears had been practically on fire by the time he’d
stepped outside the museum. Whoever—or whatever—that upstart
Christophe was, Gideon would enjoy every second of the torture he
planned for the man. How dare he touch Fiona? She was to be
Gideon’s. She would belong to him and only him. For a very long
time. Eternity, perhaps, if he deigned to share the elixir with her
before tiring of her. For her to be in the arms of another man made
Gideon want to crush the entire museum into rubble, with the
aristocracy still inside it. It would certainly be no loss to the
world.
Not a good idea,
though, considering his current plans. Still, Gideon wanted to lash
out at someone to take the edge off his
rage, but Maeve, the little coward, had run off to her car without
a word, and now he was fuming in the backseat of his own car, like
the impotent English lord he was supposed to be.
Enough. His meeting
with Telios wasn’t scheduled for hours, but since when did Fae
lords need to adhere to schedules?
“Stop the car,” he
ordered his driver. “I’ll get out here.”
The driver, at least,
knew better than to argue. He pulled the car to an immediate stop,
and Gideon stepped out. He would make better time via his own
method of travel, and he knew exactly where he was going. The St.
Mary’s tube station, on Whitechapel Road.
One simple bend in
light and space later, Gideon stood inside the permanently closed
station of London’s Underground, looking around in disgust. A few
burning torches lit the darkness to a dim glow. Most vampires were
not known for attention to cleanliness, and Telios was no
exception. At least there were no drained bodies lying about,
although the stench attested to their recent presence. The rank
odor of decaying flesh was practically suffocating in the
claustrophobic space.
“What’s the matter,
Fae? A little too dark for you?” Telios’s voice grated, as always,
but this time it held a little more of an annoying quality. A bit
of smugness, perhaps.
Gideon would enjoy
crushing that.
“Do you know the
history of this place?” Telios gestured at the rubble piled against
the bricked-up platform. “Opened in 1884. Perfect timing for me,
since there was always a fine hiding place in that storage room
just off the platform. Ate a few workers, I did. But the station
closed down in the late 1930s. They used it again as a war shelter
against air raids for a bit during World War II, but a bomb smashed
the building to bits. Too bad, really. It was easy enough to snatch
a few of the fools rushing down into the dark to escape danger.
Escaping the bombs, don’t you know? Not so effective, when certain
death lies in wait.” He cackled and did a complicated kind of
mincing dance. “Now that nobody ever comes down here anymore, it’s
mine. All mine.”
Gideon’s lips curled
back from his teeth. The vampire truly was insane. But Gideon
didn’t care about sanity, so long as Telios had acquired the
sword.
“Did you get
it?”
Telios quit dancing
and gave Gideon a far too shrewd look. “I may have.”
“What does that mean?
Either you did or you did not. Beware my anger, nightwalker. You
are not immortal, for all of your pretense.” Gideon called to the
earth for power, but he was bricked away from too much of it for
the surge he needed. Not that vampires had real life force to
drain, in any case, but it would be satisfying to destroy this
particular vampire.
Not yet, though. He
needed that sword.
“I got it,” Telios
admitted. “It’s not here, though. I almost got caught, getting
away. Had to stash it. I’ll go back for it tonight. There are other
vampires searching for it, or so I’ve heard. Shifters, too. What is
it about that sword?”
“Now, you fool. Get
it now. I need that sword,” Gideon roared, his hands clenching at
his side. Twice thwarted in one evening was twice too much for a
Fae lord who had not been denied his will in centuries. There would
not be a third time.
“Bring it to me
tonight. Or you will pay the price in pain.”
“Why do you want it
so much?” Telios’s eyes gleamed a deep red in the flickering
torchlight. “What makes that sword so important to
you?”
Gideon hesitated.
Perhaps, in his anger and frustration, he’d overplayed his hand. “I
simply want it. There is nothing more important about it than any
of my other treasures.”
Telios nodded, but
Gideon was almost certain he saw a flash of the vampire’s fangs, as
if it dared smile at him.
“All right then.
Whatever you say. I’ll try to bring it to you tonight. The price
has gone up, though. I want six.”
Utter revulsion
gripped Gideon at the thought of turning over six wood nymphs to
Telios for his sadistic pleasure. Not, of course, that he’d ever
intended to relinquish even the two the vampire had originally
requested in the bargain. Telios’s death would solve that
issue.
“You will not
try, you will succeed,” Gideon
commanded. “Do not fail. Bring me that sword or else you will be
very sorry. We will discuss payment later.” He opened the fabric of
space again and stepped through, not noticing until after he’d
reached his destination—Fairsby Manor—that Telios was dancing
again, and the vampire seemed far too happy for one who had been
threatened by an Unseelie Court prince.
Gideon considered and
discarded the idea of returning to Telios’s lair and teaching the
vampire a lesson. Instead, he lashed out and smashed the lamp off
the table in his study, but it was a pathetically feeble outlet for
his fury. Once Telios delivered the sword, Gideon would kill him,
anyway. Simply to give himself pleasure in a day that had held
little. Once he had the Siren, the Unseelie Court queen would
understand what the Fae must do in this conflict. It was their time
again. Time for the Fae to rule over all of humanity and destroy
any vampire or shifter who thought otherwise.
It was Fae destiny.
It was his destiny. He would be a god.
If she were very, very lucky, he might make Fiona his
goddess.