Atlantis Betrayed

Chapter 19

The slightly pointed tips of Gideon’s ears had been practically on fire by the time he’d stepped outside the museum. Whoever—or whatever—that upstart Christophe was, Gideon would enjoy every second of the torture he planned for the man. How dare he touch Fiona? She was to be Gideon’s. She would belong to him and only him. For a very long time. Eternity, perhaps, if he deigned to share the elixir with her before tiring of her. For her to be in the arms of another man made Gideon want to crush the entire museum into rubble, with the aristocracy still inside it. It would certainly be no loss to the world.

Not a good idea, though, considering his current plans. Still, Gideon wanted to lash out at someone to take the edge off his rage, but Maeve, the little coward, had run off to her car without a word, and now he was fuming in the backseat of his own car, like the impotent English lord he was supposed to be.

Enough. His meeting with Telios wasn’t scheduled for hours, but since when did Fae lords need to adhere to schedules?

“Stop the car,” he ordered his driver. “I’ll get out here.”

The driver, at least, knew better than to argue. He pulled the car to an immediate stop, and Gideon stepped out. He would make better time via his own method of travel, and he knew exactly where he was going. The St. Mary’s tube station, on Whitechapel Road.

One simple bend in light and space later, Gideon stood inside the permanently closed station of London’s Underground, looking around in disgust. A few burning torches lit the darkness to a dim glow. Most vampires were not known for attention to cleanliness, and Telios was no exception. At least there were no drained bodies lying about, although the stench attested to their recent presence. The rank odor of decaying flesh was practically suffocating in the claustrophobic space.

“What’s the matter, Fae? A little too dark for you?” Telios’s voice grated, as always, but this time it held a little more of an annoying quality. A bit of smugness, perhaps.

Gideon would enjoy crushing that.

“Do you know the history of this place?” Telios gestured at the rubble piled against the bricked-up platform. “Opened in 1884. Perfect timing for me, since there was always a fine hiding place in that storage room just off the platform. Ate a few workers, I did. But the station closed down in the late 1930s. They used it again as a war shelter against air raids for a bit during World War II, but a bomb smashed the building to bits. Too bad, really. It was easy enough to snatch a few of the fools rushing down into the dark to escape danger. Escaping the bombs, don’t you know? Not so effective, when certain death lies in wait.” He cackled and did a complicated kind of mincing dance. “Now that nobody ever comes down here anymore, it’s mine. All mine.”

Gideon’s lips curled back from his teeth. The vampire truly was insane. But Gideon didn’t care about sanity, so long as Telios had acquired the sword.

“Did you get it?”

Telios quit dancing and gave Gideon a far too shrewd look. “I may have.”

“What does that mean? Either you did or you did not. Beware my anger, nightwalker. You are not immortal, for all of your pretense.” Gideon called to the earth for power, but he was bricked away from too much of it for the surge he needed. Not that vampires had real life force to drain, in any case, but it would be satisfying to destroy this particular vampire.

Not yet, though. He needed that sword.

“I got it,” Telios admitted. “It’s not here, though. I almost got caught, getting away. Had to stash it. I’ll go back for it tonight. There are other vampires searching for it, or so I’ve heard. Shifters, too. What is it about that sword?”

“Now, you fool. Get it now. I need that sword,” Gideon roared, his hands clenching at his side. Twice thwarted in one evening was twice too much for a Fae lord who had not been denied his will in centuries. There would not be a third time.

“Bring it to me tonight. Or you will pay the price in pain.”

“Why do you want it so much?” Telios’s eyes gleamed a deep red in the flickering torchlight. “What makes that sword so important to you?”

Gideon hesitated. Perhaps, in his anger and frustration, he’d overplayed his hand. “I simply want it. There is nothing more important about it than any of my other treasures.”

Telios nodded, but Gideon was almost certain he saw a flash of the vampire’s fangs, as if it dared smile at him.

“All right then. Whatever you say. I’ll try to bring it to you tonight. The price has gone up, though. I want six.”

Utter revulsion gripped Gideon at the thought of turning over six wood nymphs to Telios for his sadistic pleasure. Not, of course, that he’d ever intended to relinquish even the two the vampire had originally requested in the bargain. Telios’s death would solve that issue.

“You will not try, you will succeed,” Gideon commanded. “Do not fail. Bring me that sword or else you will be very sorry. We will discuss payment later.” He opened the fabric of space again and stepped through, not noticing until after he’d reached his destination—Fairsby Manor—that Telios was dancing again, and the vampire seemed far too happy for one who had been threatened by an Unseelie Court prince.

Gideon considered and discarded the idea of returning to Telios’s lair and teaching the vampire a lesson. Instead, he lashed out and smashed the lamp off the table in his study, but it was a pathetically feeble outlet for his fury. Once Telios delivered the sword, Gideon would kill him, anyway. Simply to give himself pleasure in a day that had held little. Once he had the Siren, the Unseelie Court queen would understand what the Fae must do in this conflict. It was their time again. Time for the Fae to rule over all of humanity and destroy any vampire or shifter who thought otherwise.

It was Fae destiny. It was his destiny. He would be a god. If she were very, very lucky, he might make Fiona his goddess.