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 get upset about the rest, the thought that Gideon was being despicably sacrificed for her preservation.

When he turned self-consciously at her command, she forced herself to concentrate on this moment. This man. At least her vampire and female libidos didn"t have any problem changing focus. In fact, they responded vehemently to the display. The pants fit like a second skin, shiny, sleek and black, molding the curvature of the buttocks, the groin area so that the cock and balls made a tempting and very eye-catching package. It took a very fit man to pull off something that defined every muscle group so distinctly, and he did it—in spades. She"d kept his upper body bare, wanting the Council to see the impressive musculature and scars, reminding them of his capabilities. The trinity mark would remind them of what he"d decided to do with them instead.

His carefully crafted appearance was intended to make a psychological impact on the Council. So, too, was the last item in her hands, but that wasn"t why she"d purchased it. She"d bought it because of its psychological impact on her. Ostensibly, she could tell herself it had to do with this “performance,” but she wasn"t in the habit of lying to herself. The price she"d paid for it had been far more significant than what she"d pay for a simple showpiece. When Daegan had watched her charge her store account for it, by his silence she knew he understood.

“You know, when you get worried, sometimes you still drop that screen between our minds, the one that keeps your thoughts and gremlins down to a dull roar, like a dinner crowd at a nice restaurant.” Gideon sat down on the ottoman. He"d been sitting there earlier so she could use charcoal to embellish his third mark. She"d made the scarlet teardrops stand out more dramatically. He seemed surprised the pants gave easily, since they looked so tight, but she knew the fabric combination gave him almost full flexibility.

“Yes. I"m still working on that.”

“Hmm.” Gideon slid off the ottoman, dropped to one knee before her, making her throat thicken. It put his head on a level just above her waist, at her breasts, and while his gaze flickered there, it was to her face he went.

“You know, a lady used to give a knight a favor, telling him that whatever he did, it was in her honor. I think this is kind of similar, in a way. Don"t you?” His gaze moved to the collar in her hands.

“Does it help you to think of it that way?”

“Maybe. Am I right?”

“It"s a part of it. But you"re wrong. Not about that, but about your brother being the only knight in the family.” It gave her poignant pleasure to touch his hair, brush a fallen lock back over his brow. “He might be Sir Galahad, but I think you"re gruff Sir Kay. No less noble or brave, merely rough at the edges.”

He seemed charmingly taken aback by that, but she looked down at the object in her hand.

“Gideon, I don"t really think in terms of boy-friends, or lovers. I"ve never wanted a husband.

That"s not who I am. When you walked into Atlantis, I looked at every inch of your powerful body, the wariness in your eyes, the danger you carry with you, the pain and nobility, the intelligence and resourcefulness. You know what I thought?”

She knew he was capable of delivering a smartass comment at the most inappropriate times, but this time he didn"t. He waited for her to answer her own question, gazing up at her with those serious blue eyes.

“That"s my slave. Mine.”

His mind tumbled that over, but didn"t outright reject it. “So that"s what this collar says. No matter what happens tonight, you"re mine. They won"t take that away from me, from us. Even though they might have something to prove, you still belong to me. Your pleasure is my property. I won"t see it abused.” She gripped the collar, and felt the power of it vibrate up her fingertips. “I asked you to trust me, before I became this. Will you trust me to be your Mistress tonight, Gideon? Everything after that, we"ll negotiate. Vampire or not, I go in there as a Mistress. Will you go in as my slave?”

“Yes.” Seeing and feeling the core of her resolve, so strong it rippled over his skin like erotic heat, Gideon spoke from his heart. “Anwyn or Mistress, they"re the same to me. I can"t claim to understand what I want or need most days, but the answer to that one is clear enough in my head. I"m yours. Whenever you need me, however you need me.” Within limits. But she knew his limits, didn"t she? When she put the collar on his throat, sliding the buckle into place, her fingers lingering, Gideon felt the emotion well up inside her.

It was like a divine energy, a strong magic that held him still beneath her hands, as if he was part of a sacred ritual in truth. Fleetingly, he wondered if this might be what marriage felt like, that commitment to forever. What he might have felt sooner, if they"d had more time to do the third marking the way he"d heard it was supposed to be done.

The collar was definitely for a male slave, a wide three-inch strap with prongs worked into it so there was a warning prick of steel all the way around the top and bottom edges. Two long lengths of chain ran from the front steel loop, and fastened to two matching cuffs she tightened over his wrists. She closed her hand on those two lengths of chain where they met at that collar loop and followed them down, drawing his hands together until they rested on his knee and he felt the pull against his throat. Her gaze was molten, a blue-green sea under a hot sun, so that his skin burned beneath it. Latex didn"t have as much give as it first seemed, for his cock swelled painfully, pushing its limits. His body responded to that collar in a primal way, and he couldn"t control it. The collar was the sign of her ownership, his fealty to her. Whom he served.

His own fervency made him uncomfortable. Better able to handle his physical reaction than his incomprehensible emotional one, he let his gaze pass over her. She"d prepared herself as well. She"d put a sleek corset over a black bodysuit. There was a brace of topaz at her throat, one additional sparkling pin to dress her hair. A loose braided belt, studded with silver metal pieces, embellished the corset, low on her hips. Thigh-high boots with her trademark stiletto heels inspired a sudden desire to put his mouth on them, a peculiar feeling he hadn"t experienced before.

“My ankle, Gideon,” she said softly. “The material is very soft. I"ll feel your mouth through it.”

He bent, not caring about the extreme subservient position as he brought his lips to the creased ankle of those sexy-as-hell boots encasing sexy-as-hell legs. She shifted, putting the other boot on the curve of his bare back, holding him in the clamshell position as she adjusted a lacing, the point of the heel digging into his flesh. Catching his hair, she brought his head up, his mouth mere inches from her pussy. His nostrils flared so he could almost taste the scent through the thin fabric, saliva gathering on his tongue. “Smell that arousal? That"s all for you, Gideon. Be good tonight and you might get some of that.”

“I expect I might get more if I"m bad.” He tossed his head back against her hold, gave her a shit-eating grin. She bared her fangs at him.

“I"ll be happy to beat him if you"d like to watch,” Daegan offered, now standing in the doorway to his room.

Before they could respond to that, there was a knock on the door and an envelope slid beneath it. Glancing at Anwyn, Daegan retrieved it, looked at the addressee and extended it to her. “Apparently the Council has before-dinner instructions for you.” Anwyn took it, turned it over in her hands and opened it. From where he now stood, Gideon could see only several lines of writing, but her mouth tightened in a hard line, matched by a sharp, vicious anger that electrified her mind and sent her shadows stirring with blood-thirsty eagerness. Daegan stepped closer and Gideon became instantly more alert. “What is it, Anwyn?”

“Damn it.” She closed her eyes, shook her head, fighting for calm. She handed it to Daegan.

As he read it, his brow creased.

“They want me to dress in women"s underwear,” Gideon guessed, hoping they"d tell him before he had to snatch it from them or pluck it out of Anwyn"s head.

“Nothing so dire,” the vampire said, though there was a spark of angry fire in his gaze as he glanced at him. “They want Anwyn to mark you in some way before we arrive. Something that will have some pain and blood associated with it, so they can see that you stood for it.”

“Why not once we get there?” she asked. “Wouldn"t they want to see me do it?”

“This is just an appetizer, Anwyn,” Daegan said quietly.

Her expression hardened. “Bastards,” she said with quiet viciousness. “Gideon—”

“Your belt,” Gideon nodded to it, meeting her gaze. “It"s a whip, isn"t it? It"ll do as well as anything. They like floggings. Jacob told me.”

When she said nothing, her eyes stormy, he cocked his head. “You get aroused at the thought of flogging me. You like pain, Mistress.”

“Just because I can"t keep you out of my head when I get upset is no reason to take advantage of it,” she snapped. “And I like pain if it takes the submissive in the proper direction. You don"t do it just to torture a person.”

“I don"t suspect you will be.” Conscious of Daegan"s regard, trying not to think about the indecent fit of his clothes, Gideon took a step forward. Deliberately, he let his gaze wander over her, just a shade on the insolent side. “The thought of it makes you hot. You"re already creaming the nonexistent thong you"re wearing under those fuck-me pants.” She narrowed her gaze. “You think baiting me will make me accept this?”

“That"s my hope.” He forced heat and challenge into his expression. Whether it was the overabundance of nerves and emotion in the room, or anger, it wasn"t really feigned. He took another step, deliberately using his greater height and weight to intimidate her. “One of the things you like about me is that I"m tough to tame. That we could go three hundred years together and I"d never be your pet.”