I will be back soon, but if she needs anything, you let me know.” His words appeared to stun Gideon. Anwyn didn"t know what to say, but the vampire didn"t seem to require her words. With an oath, he jerked her to him, tasting her mouth, rough and deep. It had barely started before he let her go, so suddenly she staggered back. With his exceptional vampire speed, he was already gone, Gideon"s hands on her shoulders.

“That lacked some of his usual finesse.” Gideon cleared his throat.

She locked her jaw against the surge of emotion that came with Daegan"s abrupt absence, the immediate emptiness inside her. Instead, she let herself feel the tightening of Gideon"s hands, his silent understanding. He always assumed that he was second fiddle to Daegan, but she knew that wasn"t correct. She didn"t know if she could explain it herself, however, or if she even wanted to do so. How could she explain that there was something in her, growing ever larger daily, that needed both of them in her life, for different reasons but no less strongly, not one over the other? Particularly when she was nursing a deep sense of inexplicable hurt toward one, and the other one considered this a temporary role at best.

Moving away, she turned and faced Lord Brian. She read people well, particularly men.

She"d been braced for Lord Brian to be arrogant and overbearing, a less palatable form of Daegan. Perhaps it was the title, which she understood was given to all born vampires, or those awarded a Region. Brian was the former, the son of a British Region Master.

Much as she was reluctant to admit it while she was out of sorts with him, Daegan had understood her better than that. He had told her some about her new warden before the scientist arrived. Lord Brian was a rarity in his world. Though young for a vampire at eighty years, he"d shown no interest in becoming a territory overlord or Region Master. His ambition was wholly targeted toward a better understanding of the physiology of vampires. His studies included everything from the chemical makeup of the bond between vampires and servants to whether or not vampire vulnerability to the sun could be overcome. He also headed up project teams that were trying to cure the two diseases that affected vampires, Ennui and the Delilah virus.

His servant, Debra, was the first he"d chosen for himself, versus his parents" choice during his maturation. She appeared to be an exceptional lab assistant, quietly efficient, and yet from the way the two brushed as they moved, tuning the equipment, untangling leads and setting dials, it was obvious their intimacy involved the usual depth one would expect between vampire and servant. She was his, in whatever way he wanted her, and she didn"t seem to have any problems with that.

However, Anwyn did detect a desire for something more in Debra. Though it wasn"t evident in Debra"s body language or expression, Anwyn didn"t need a crystal ball to know what longing drove Brian"s assistant. Being a servant required she give him everything of herself, yet accept however much or little Brian chose to give her, the right of a species that felt itself superior to humans. It was the root of the reason Anwyn had never capitulated to being Daegan"s servant when she was human.

That thought made her gaze stray to Gideon. How, then, could she blame Gideon for fiercely maintaining that, third mark or not, he would not join her for a lifetime commitment in the vampire world? Would she want him to do so? See the proud man subjected to the things she knew happened there?

The vampire blood in her already clamored that it wasn"t his choice, that it was hers. It scared her, how strong that voice was, how fiercely she wanted to hold on to that third-mark connection like an unbreakable chain She somehow already understood how Brian, born with such blood, didn"t even question that his servant was his to do with as he wished, no matter that she seemed to be devoted to that purpose for him.

The human side of Anwyn, struggling valiantly to survive, wouldn"t countenance taking that choice from Gideon. She didn"t care what Daegan said about a third-marked servant being essentially trapped in the role for life, based on Council law.

But she didn"t want to do without him, either.

Well, there was nothing she could do with that for right now. Higher priority was making sure she didn"t drain Atlantis clientele during fits of bloodlust or rip off their heads.

Complimentary drink coupons wouldn"t make up for that little faux pas.

“So what do we need to do first?” she asked, trying to sound matter-of-fact instead of resentful and wary.

Debra produced a folded blue gown, the inevitable open-on-one-side degradation. “This is so we can have access to the leads we"ll be taping at different nerve and pressure points.” It smelled like a lab, bringing the image of hospitals and silver, sterile instruments.

Frightened lab rats, not knowing anything but cage walls and cruel procedures that denied their value except as tools.

“Anwyn. Hey.” Gideon settled his hands on her shoulders again. “Can she wear an open shirt instead? Something familiar?”

“Certainly.” Brian stepped forward. His voice was kind, firm, but his eyes were assessing her every reaction, increasing that lab rat feeling. “Miss Naime . . . or do you prefer Mistress?”

“Only if you want me to tie you up and shove a vibrator up your ass.” She closed her eyes, fighting for calm, so she had no idea how he reacted to that. She needed to remember that Daegan had indicated many vampires didn"t care for humor. They often took it for being a smart-ass. Which, in this case, would probably be a fair accusation.

“I want to call you what you"d prefer,” he said smoothly. “I understand this is difficult. This is a partnership between us, to determine how to stabilize you during your transition and further, if needed. Even through the measures we may have to take to protect you and others during your seizures, you have my respect. We"re here to help you.”

“If anyone can help, he can.” Debra"s voice had her eyes opening again. The somber girl had a slim nose and a small mouth, her thickly lashed gray eyes packing a punch. Without those eyes, she might have been plain, a woman who dressed in comfortable shoes and slacks, which only accentuated the skinny body and long, narrow hands. But Anwyn"s sharp eyes detected a decent figure, heavy breasts. With those eyes and the right clothes, her blond hair brushed out, she"d be impossible for any man to overlook. Except she appeared to have eyes for only one male. One who had delivered his polite speech and was now elbows deep in that piece of equipment again, brow furrowed and a lock of hair falling over his forehead as he muttered what sounded like expletives at it. Apparently, Debra was in charge of the touchy-feely hand-holding part of things.

Gideon had left her, disappearing into Daegan"s room, and now he returned with one of his button-down shirts. Like most all of Daegan"s clothing, it was black, but it was worn, soft and easy on the skin. “Will this do, Mistress?”

He used the title deliberately, she knew, always at the right moment, gauged to help her get a sense of balance. She"d known the first night she"d met him he was neither submissive nor Dominant, even though he"d come to her club in the capacity of a submissive. He"d come spoiling for a fight, looking for a way to exorcise the pain in his soul. He wanted to serve a woman, not a vampire. Unfortunately, his timing had landed him with responsibility for both, until she could get past this. His damn sense of honor wouldn"t allow him to leave until then, no matter how much he abhorred what she"d become.

She was glad he wasn"t in her mind for the bitterness that fountained in her at the thought.

The two men to whom she"d felt the strongest connection in her life both had reasons to want to be away from her. She guessed she should be grateful they"d managed to stagger their escape schedules, Daegan taking his now, Gideon planning his for later.

When she went into the bathroom to change, it took an act of will not to put her fist through the vanity mirror that no longer had any function, at least in terms of checking her appearance.

She changed in the bathroom without looking at it, feeling her blood pounding in her throat. At least one man in her life would never leave her. Barnabus, the vampire who"d done this to her.

Her true sire. Her lip curled. Planting his residual schizophrenia in her, so his voice sometimes captured her throat, made her say all sorts of despicable things during seizures. Even when she wasn"t having seizures, those shadow creatures in her head, the ones who supposedly weren"t real, overrode everything else until she could barely see or think. She could only huddle in a corner, hands locked over her head, body rocking as she muttered and shouted at them to stop.

How many times had she passed homeless people lying in their nests of garbage, doing the same? No one else knew what it was like to have them in there, did they?

While she couldn"t bring herself to feel pity for the vampire that had violated her on so many levels, there were times where she admitted enough empathy to agree with Brian"s decision—though a hard-fought one with Daegan—to spare Barnabus for the time being. He"d been put in a temporary holding facility of Daegan"s design so they had access to her

“biological sire"s” blood as long as they needed it. Once Brian had arrived, he"d agreed to take on custody of the vamp, employing some of his vampire and scientific contacts in the States to take over Barnabus"s care from Daegan. Periodically he sent Debra to that undisclosed location to get more blood, Anwyn"s anonymity carefully protected from Barnabus"s new wardens.

Brian had explained he wanted to study the way schizophrenia interacted with Barnabus"s vampire nature, and assured Daegan he"d call him in for termination when those experiments were completed, unless he could rescue the vamp"s mind.

She doubted that was possible. Just as a symptom of her turning, the voices were so integrated in her head. She hadn"t been born with it in her genetic makeup, like Barnabus. Of all of them, Gideon understood those voices the best, because he"d stood in her mind, listening to them, watching them. But he could get in a car, drive out of range of her mind in a few hundred miles, and he wouldn"t hear them anymore. The only thing that seemed to make them still and quiet for her was his presence in her head, or Daegan"s, but the voices were always there.