“That is what I am attempting to decide,” she confessed bluntly.
His lips twitched. “Very well.”
Together they turned to head back to the house, Simone walking at his side while she kept a covert watch on the towering form. They had reached the open door when she noticed the undeniable amusement that was etched upon the handsome features.
“What do you find so amusing?” she demanded.
“You keep glancing at me as if you expect me to suddenly sprout horns and a tail.”
Her lips thinned. “Will you?”
He lifted a dark brow. “I possess enough manners to keep them hidden during tea.”
It was an absurd conversation. Still, Simone could not make herself laugh at her foolishness. Not yet.
“It is not pleasant to fear I am losing my wits,” she muttered.
Without warning he reached out to grasp her shoulders and turned her to face his sympathetic smile.
“There is no danger of that, I assure you.”
She grimaced. “I wish I could be certain.”
“Trust me,” he urged softly.
A shower of hot sparks flared through her at the feel of his warm hands upon her bare skin. The knowledge that she so readily responded to his merest touch only deepened the scowl marring her brow.
“Why do people keep saying that?”
Leaving the town house in the traditional manner, Gideon swiftly rounded the high hedge and made his way to the back garden.
Tea had been rather a stiff affair, with Simone clearly uneasy at having him near. More than once he had longed to pull her into his arms and confess all. Anything had to be better than the thick wall of suspicion that suddenly lay between them.
Thankfully, he had retained enough logic to hold the impetuous words.
Not only would the truth expose him long before he was prepared to move upon Tristan, but it might very well frighten her into sudden flight. No mortal would easily accept the presence of a vampire in her midst, not even one who had been sent to protect her. And if she ran, he might not reach her before Tristan managed to capture her.
The thought of the renegade vampire tightened Gideon’s features as he slid through the shadows of the garden. It had been the unmistakable sense of a vampire slipping through the web that surrounded Simone’s home that had brought him hurrying to the town house.
It could not be Tristan, of course.
After giving in to his bloodlust the vampire could no longer bear the light of day. But there had been two other traitors that had escaped with Tristan and while he had yet to catch sight of them, he could not be certain that either of them had not suddenly turned their attention to Simone. If they had not yet given in to the desire for human blood they would be as free as himself to walk the streets during the day.
And whether working for Tristan, or scheming behind his back to gain full control of the Medallion, they would be a danger he could not dismiss.
In a distant corner he came to a halt and waited for the thin lad to wiggle out of the bush and offer him a cheeky smile.
“’Ello, guv.”
“Have you been here all day?” he demanded in abrupt tones.
The urchin who sported ears and a nose far too large for his thin countenance gave a shake of his head.
“No, sir. I followed the lady when she went shopping and then to the lending library.”
“When did she return home?”
“I reakon it be about a couple of hours ago.”
Gideon allowed his gaze to roam over the garden, carefully scrutinizing the few places that could hide a careful stalker.
“What occurred after she returned?”
The lad shrugged. “She came to the garden.”
“Alone?”
“For a time.” The boy lifted a grimy finger to rub the end of his nose. “Then a queer old bird appeared in the garden. Gave me quite a fright, she did. One minute she wasn’t there and the next she was.”
Gideon frowned.
Although vampires could easily shape-shift when filled with the power of bloodlust, they would not be able to leave their lair at this hour.
Not unless it had been ...
His hands clenched at his side as he peered sharply at the lad. “Tell me of this woman.”
The boy gave his nose another rub. “Looked to be a gypsy to me. She had on one of them bright skirts and her hair hanging about her face.”
“A gypsy?” he murmured, recalling Simone’s explanation that she had been given the Medallion by an old gypsy woman.
“Never seen one afore, but that’s what she seemed to be.”
“Nefri,” he breathed.
“Beg pardon, guv?”
Not surprisingly the boy sent him a baffled gaze. No mortal had ever heard the name of the greatest of all vampires. Even among vampires she was more legend than fellow companion. Always a recluse she had been one of the few to maintain the ancient arts when others had fallen into the lure of power that could easily be acquired by human blood. For centuries at a time she would disappear, hidden in secrecy as she studied the old texts and delved into the magic that had been long forgotten.
It was how she had discovered the Medallion and the power to create the Veil.
“I speak to myself,” he said with an impatient wave of his hand. He did not know why Nefri would have sought Simone out, or what she had said, but he at least knew that she would never harm the mortal woman. He only wished that he could have the opportunity to speak with the vampire. Perhaps she could give him some answer as how to ease the wariness that held Simone. “You have seen nothing of the silver-haired gentleman?”
“Well ...”
The boy appeared oddly uncertain and Gideon gave a lift of his brows.
“What is it?”
“Queer thing,” he grudgingly replied. “I was leaving here last evening and I spotted one of the maids down the street speaking with a gent in a cape. Couldn’t see his hair in the dark, but I would swear it was the same bloke. Gave me the shivers just looking at him.”
Gideon was on instant alert. The vampire could easily compel one of the servants to harm Simone if he desired, although it would hardly be his style. Tristan preferred to inflict his own pain.
“Which maid?”
“I think her name be Daisy.”
The memory of a fresh-faced girl who was often at Simone’s side rose to Gideon’s mind. He would make sure he had a word with the maid, just to ascertain she had not been put beneath Tristan’s power.
“Let me know if she meets with this man again.”
The boy offered a mocking salute. “Righto.”