Fairsby Manor

“What do you mean, you can’t find him?” Gideon kicked the cringing vampire in the ribs again. “How difficult can it be to find a single insane vampire?”
“I don’t know where he is,” the vampire blubbered. “We lost several of our number when they attacked that human, except he’s not human—no way is he human—and those of us who are left can’t find Telios.”
“No, Christophe is definitely not human,” Gideon agreed. “But what?”
“I don’t know that, either,” the vamp whined.
Gideon kicked him again. “I wasn’t asking you, you pathetic waste of space. Get out. Try again. Follow any rumor or possibility, no matter how far-fetched.”
“Well, there was one thing, but it was ridiculous.”
“What?”
“I heard he was seen entering a shifter hangout, but that’s just stupid,” the vamp said, all but falling over itself in the hope to prove useful.
“Go!” Gideon screamed. “Go now. To that shifter place and find that vampire or I will chain you in a box with silver and crosses for the rest of eternity, you miserable leech.”
The vampire leapt out the window so fast it nearly flew. Or maybe it did fly. Gideon didn’t know and didn’t care. All he knew was that if Telios was suddenly going to shifter venues, then the vampire might very well have discovered the Siren’s secrets. Which could be bad for Gideon.
Very bad, indeed.
At least until he figured a way to fix it. So Gideon did what he had always done best: he started drawing up a strategy to make others suffer and bleed. He would call in another of his minions, this one Fae. They’d put part two of his plan into motion.
And that was very good. Very, very good.
058