Chapter 15 #2
“That night he tried to take me across the veil,” she said slowly. “He waited until after I’d pledged myself to the node and became its guardian. Like, it was legit about to go full-on sidhe mound, and he told me to ‘take it in hand,’ since that’s what I was there for.”
Gideon’s brows furrowed. That was odd. “He did?”
“Yeah.” She shook her head, scowling. “And after I’d pledged to become its guardian, he got this huge smile on his stupid face, like he was proud or something.”
Well, that left limited options as to Jena’s father’s pedigree.
The odds of him being a sidhe, unseelie or otherwise, had just dramatically fallen, which increased the possibility that they had an extremely large problem on their hands.
Gideon pulled out his phone and exhaled heavily, his thumb hovering over a number he hadn’t used in far too long.
Renard would give him hell for it, but it couldn’t be helped.
He shot off a quick text grimacing. Gideon didn’t have what most would consider a family per se, but he and Renard had been created from the same block of granite, which made him as close to a brother as a grotesque could get. It also made him a perpetual thorn in Gideon’s side.
The phone rang almost immediately, and he grimaced, holding it at arm’s length. Damn it Ren, I texted you for a reason. A simple yes or no would’ve sufficed.
Which Renard absolutely knew and absolutely didn’t care.
“You gonna get that?” Jena asked on the third ring.
Not if he had a choice in the matter. Unfortunately, he didn’t.
“Gideon,” he scowled, glowering at her to leave. She leaned against the stainless steel counter and continued to eat. Fantastic. He was dinner and a show.
“I’m sorry, who’s this?” Renard replied in their native tongue. At least the witch wouldn’t be privy to everything. “I don’t believe I know a Gideon. You must have the wrong number.”
“Damn it, Ren. You know very well who I am, and I’ve little time for your games. I need you to compile a list of entities with—”
“And why, pray tell, would a lawyer need that?” Renard asked, cutting him off.
Gods, Gideon could practically see him sitting there, inspecting his nails with a smug little smile beneath his foppish mustache. The bastard had always bet on him crawling back to the node. That it was Havers’s instead of the City of Light’s made little difference.
“One wouldn’t,” Gideon gritted out. “However, my circumstances have changed dramatically within the past forty-eight hours—”
“I knew it!” The glee in Renard’s voice was obscene. “Well, well, little brother, look at you coming back to the fold. Granted, you held out longer than any of us expected. I have to ask, did swallowing all that pride hurt?”
“No, but speaking to you does,” Gideon grumbled. “Are you going to get me the information or not?”
Renard tsked. “That depends. Are you going to tell me what finally broke you down?”
“No.”
His brother sighed. “Well, then I suspect I’m far too busy to—”
Damn it. “Ophelia’s here.”
“Ah…” Renard chuckled. “I knew I liked her.”
“You’ve never met her.”
“No, but any woman that can wrap your dick so neatly around her finger after completely crushing your soul I hold in high esteem. Details, please.”
“You’re not getting any until I get information on any tall, dark-haired entities with emerald green eyes. He’s extremely charming, able to pass as a warlock, and goes by William. His true name slips from people’s minds. It also sounds like his interest in the node is tangential.”
“Mmm, that’s never a good combination.”
“Indeed.” Gideon pinched the bridge of his nose. He wouldn’t have called the damned bastard otherwise.
“Fine, I’ll see what I can dig up, but your current location would help. The repository’s grown considerably since you were last here. The internet’s a marvelous thing. Did you know there’s websites where women—”
“Yes, I’m aware,” Gideon said, glancing at Jena. “I’m currently in Havers-by-the-Sea. How soon can you have something for me?”
“Give me a few hours. Your email still the same?”
“It is, and thank you.”
“Oh no, thank you,” he laughed. “This call has just won me a great deal of money. Don’t be surprised if some of the others reach out now that we’ve a foothold on the new continent. You’re still the only grotesque that’s managed to get a dispensation, and one can’t help but wonder why that is…”
Gideon scowled. “I have a theory, but now’s not the time to share it.”
“Gods, you’re such a tease.”
“And you’re a boorish prick.”
“Love you, too, little brother,” Renard laughed, ending the call.
Gideon slapped the phone down and raked a hand through his hair.
“Family?” Jena asked.
He glanced up at her. “Pardon?”
“I don’t need to speak whatever that was to glean that whoever you were talking to has got to be related to you the way they just got under your skin.”
Gideon grunted, not denying the observation. “Regardless, he should have something for me in a couple of hours. Hopefully, we get a hit and can use the information to figure out what your father’s after and why he’s using the Court to get it.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” she said, putting her dish into the sink. “In the meantime, I’m going back to bed.”
“I’d like to see those reserve nexuses first thing and then the portal. I’ll do what I can there, but the town needs to prepare for what’s coming.”
“Felix can talk to the coven, and Liam should be able to rally the pack since his dad isn’t here.
Between the two of them, they’ll get the word out to the rest of the town.
” Jena chewed her lip. “But Chase is going to have to be the one to show you everything.” She scowled.
“I’m pretty sure I’m under house arrest.”
He snorted. Good. She and Ophelia could keep each other company. “Sleep well,” Gideon murmured as the witch left, doubting he could do the same. He sat at the counter for a moment longer, responsibility weighing on him.
Jena was right about Renard getting under his skin, but his brother’s attitude was the least of it.
Their brethren hadn’t been pleased when Gideon was released by the node, and it had created a scandal across the continent—especially when he’d braved crossing the ocean and left.
Saltwater was the one thing that could destroy their kind, and grotesques steered clear of it.
Even traveling over the loathsome stuff by plane had unwholesome repercussions.
Without a node to draw on, Gideon had been practically bedridden for nearly a century before returning to full strength.
That he’d endured all of that to take up the mantle over here beneath a witch would kick the hornet’s nest up all over again.
Gideon shook his head. It couldn’t be helped, and what did he care what anyone said about him an ocean away?
He didn’t care what was said about him beneath this roof.
Ophelia, however, was a different matter.
Renard had been one of the few who refrained from besmirching her name after their disastrous engagement.
Gideon could only imagine how the tongues would wag now.
He stood. It didn’t matter, and he’d been away from her side for long enough.
Beside him, the IV bag had emptied, and he plucked the needle and its port from his arm before he started back to the room, steadier on his feet than he had been.
His thoughts were heavy, churning things, the seriousness of the charge he’d accepted weighing on him.
All of which fled from his mind as he opened the bedroom door.
Ophelia had kicked off the covers and lay supine across the sheets in all her glory.
His breath caught at her beauty, his pajama bottoms growing tight.
Not the time, Gideon. He adjusted himself with a slow breath and turned off the light before lying down at her side.
She murmured something in her sleep and rolled over to snuggle against him.
He gingerly put his arm beneath her head, and she sighed, a hand over his chest. Her leg rose, knee skimming up his thigh before stopping dangerously close to his arousal.
Images of their past life together flitted through his head, all the games they used to play.
None of which decreased the throbbing in his loins.
He watched the slow rise and fall of her breast in the dim light from the moon outside their window. Surely she would be opposed to such advances now. Still…he couldn’t help himself from brushing her hair from her face, his fingers tailing down her throat to her collarbone. She was exquisite.
His brow furrowed, it had to be a trick of the light, but the dark markings around her eyes seemed lighter than they had been.
The dark smears had faded to gray, their edges indistinct.
He mentally added tracking down Thaddeus to his list of objectives for tomorrow, and Gods help the vampire if he mentioned bees.
Gideon closed his eyes, lulled by Ophelia’s soft breathing.
Her hand had traveled downward, resting across the small slice of bare skin between his t-shirt and the waistband of his pajamas.
He pressed his lips to the crown of her head and sighed.
Sleep might escape him, but he would gladly forgo it with her at his side.