Vampire trinity by Joey W. Hill

Author:Joey W. Hill [Joey W. Hill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: SF
ISBN: 9780425236703
Published: 2010-09-15T23:53:12+00:00

13

GO numb. Just as Daegan predicted, that was what Gideon had decided would be his best strategy. She could hear it in his mind when he came out of the shower at last. She hated to knock him out of his false calm so quickly, but she’d been thinking. Presentation, drama . . . the impact of appearance. These were all parts of her skills, and she was keenly aware they would be useful tonight. Looking through the extra wardrobe items she’d brought also gave her something to do other than go insane at the idea that she was about to lead him into the same kind of alley she’d experienced, only he’d be fully aware of what could happen there as he walked into it.

Once she had him dressed, he stood in front of the mirror, scowling at himself. “I look like one of the Village People.”

Anwyn rolled her eyes. “Shut up or I’ll put my foot up your backside.”

“That might prepare it for tonight,” he jested, a brittle note to his voice.

Impulsively, she slid her arms around his chest from behind, putting her cheek against his shoulder. “Gideon, I hate this. I hate it so much. But no matter what happens, I’ll be with you. If things get too difficult, you come into my mind, you hear me? You talk to me, cry out to me, whatever you need to do to get through it alive. That’s what matters most to me. That we’re all headed out together on that plane as soon as possible.”

He clasped her hand, his grip almost bruising. “Don’t worry. I can handle the dinner. These clothes, on the other hand . . .”

Knowing about vampire “dinners,” Daegan had encouraged her to include such garments in their suitcases as a precaution. As a result, before they left, she’d made a short foray with Daegan to the fetish store that Atlantis had on its premises. The fetish fashionista that ran it assured her the newest line of men’s pants, made with a cunning combination of latex and spandex, would mold a slave’s body in a way that would make her order him to wear them seven days a week. Looking at Gideon now, she had to agree.

She’d been familiar with all the store’s offerings, but had found herself looking at them with a new eye. She’d considered the Cocoon, a suit that encapsulated the slave from head to toe, trapping his arms and legs inside a tight latex mesh, with zippers at the crotch, mouth, nipples and buttocks. Of course, since Gideon was chafing at one pair of tight pants, she knew it was good she’d left that one in the store. For now. She’d use that at a later time, when his only source of anxiety was what she might demand of him, not a phalanx of vampires.

It was good to be thinking of the future, thinking of her club, of having him serve her. A life beyond all this. She couldn’t afford to

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