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.