Bowing her head, she let the pain of it wash over her, and slid back into her chair. Glancing up, she saw Daegan watching her. While there was pain in his expression, telling her he heard her thoughts, she shook her head. She couldn"t handle any advice that would be a balm on the obvious. At the moment it hurt too damn much. All of it hurt too much, and it was all the wrong kind of pain.

“It"s time for you to choose, Gideon.”

Gideon jumped as he came out of the bathing chamber. She"d startled him.

Anwyn bit her lip at his reaction, another tiny pain amid many larger ones. Even though she"d gone up earlier with Daegan to do a nighttime round of Atlantis while Gideon showered, Gideon usually stayed locked into her whereabouts, a comforting presence in the back of her brain. However, given that she"d been shutting him out the three days since they"d been back, she couldn"t fault him for withdrawing some. Hell, he"d probably been relieved not to have to walk on eggshells around her for at least a half hour.

He"d tolerated her treatment longer than she would have expected. Gideon Green wasn"t a doormat, and his patience was zero. Maybe he"d sensed what was coming and wanted to delay it, as she did. Or maybe it was because he would let her abuse him in a way she"d never permit anyone else to do, a shameful thought.

He hadn"t completely avoided it, though, like she had. On the first day back, he"d approached her with heartbreaking tenderness, asking her point-blank what he could do to fix whatever it was he"d done. But she, who had stood up to the Council, who"d faced down Xavier in his club, surrounded by hostile vampires, couldn"t tell him. At least she hadn"t lied.

She"d said it was something she was working out and she"d tell him in her own time. Told him to focus on recuperating and stop worrying about her.

At night, she stayed busy in her home office, leaving them to watch television or do whatever men did. Practice weapons or martial arts. Daegan even started teaching Gideon how to use a bullwhip, something she"d been almost tempted to go watch, and give tips, but had stopped herself.

That first dawn, and each of the two dawns after, she"d gone to Daegan"s bed and hadn"t invited Gideon to join them, as she might have before. She"d shut her mind like a trap, unable to handle his confused and hurt reaction. She couldn"t even look at his face as she vaguely encouraged him to use her bed rather than the couch for his comfort and recuperation. Day or night, she"d said carelessly, whichever suited his sleeping schedule best.

He slept on the couch, refusing her bed. He couldn"t handle her scent there, without her in it.

When she saw the thought in his mind, she almost broke, so she tried not to listen to anything else, pouring more energy into that screen between them than she ever had before. She knew she"d successfully been able to keep him out of the part of her mind dealing with this issue.

He"d probed hard a couple times, and she"d set him back on his heels for it, so he"d quit, with a mutinous look, but he didn"t know what the worried look in his eyes did to her heart. She felt like a multitude of cracks were starting to run through it, the prelude to a full shattering into dozens of pieces.

It had made her even crueler. When she"d needed blood, she"d asked him—or rather the wall in front of her—to drain it into a cup and mix it with wine for her. She knew how he anticipated the intimacy they shared when she took her preferred position in his lap and brought her lips to his throat. She"d denied him even that. The first time she"d done it, he"d left it on the kitchen counter, reaching out into her mind to let her know it was ready, and then left the apartment for several hours.

She couldn"t risk any of it. Couldn"t risk his thoughts, sharing a bed or drinking from him. It wasn"t deliberate cruelty; it was resolve. If she twined herself around him, touched him, allowed herself his body, she"d rationalize herself away from the truth. Pleasure was a poor substitute for what she really wanted—his heart and soul.

On day three, hurt had begun to shift to his familiar bitter anger, his mind twisting in ugly thoughts. As she prepared to leave him for the dawn, headed for Daegan"s bed, Gideon had demanded she tell him what the fuck was going on. She"d felt numb, because she knew it was time. She told him she wanted one more day.

Daegan wouldn"t help or hinder, damn him. She hadn"t asked his opinion, but she would have welcomed it. However, when she came to his bed that morning, she"d seen in his eyes he knew too well what was happening, and that he knew this was her decision to make. Instead, he let her spoon inside the shelter of his body, curl in a ball. He"d folded himself around her, giving her shelter but no sanctuary from her own thoughts.

When she rose for the evening, she found Gideon had fallen asleep on the couch. She"d wanted to slide onto that lean body, twine around him, hold him close to her heart, but she couldn"t bear it. She"d gone up top upon rising, with Daegan, to do rounds. She"d worked upstairs, cognizant of Daegan"s presence, his watchfulness, and then she"d asked him for privacy when she went back down to face what she had to do.

So here she was. She"d come back in, heard Gideon in the shower, taken a seat in her wing-backed chair. Allowed herself to slide into his mind fully for the first time in three days and almost sobbed at the pleasure of it. Experiencing the roll of water down his body, watching his hands rise to slick the hair back from his skull. Feeling the loneliness in his mind warring with irritation and anger at her treatment of him, the confusion and apprehension.

He always sensed her in his mind, so it spoke keenly of his state that she"d startled him when he stepped out of the bathroom.

She knew what he saw. A Mistress in full regalia, no softness to her. A corset and snug skirt, high boots, hair slicked back. She"d greeted some high-dollar clients tonight, introduced them to the staff members who would pleasure them, but that wasn"t why she"d dressed this way.

Gideon reacted to her remote and tempting appearance, his barely leashed irritation rising again, a cloak for more jagged emotions.

He knew, as she did. Except he thought there was something to fight about, but there wasn"t.

She wished there was. There was nothing to change or fix.

“What do you mean, I need to choose?” He spoke stiffly.

When she let her gaze course down Gideon"s bare chest, the arrow of hair that disappeared into the towel, she heard his hopeful, hungry thought that maybe she was ready to make up, ready to take him into her body, use his as she wished. It made him despise himself, made him feel like he had no pride.

It made her despise herself, because of how desperately she wanted to accept less than what they both deserved, so she wouldn"t have to face this moment.

“Sex is the great anesthesia, isn"t it?” She cocked her head. “For men at least.” His brow furrowed. She felt him reach out to her on instinct, but she kept that wall steady between them. She was becoming better at making her screen opaque, possibly a cumulative effect of Brian"s serum. She wanted to celebrate how much control she was reclaiming for herself, but not only was Gideon a cornerstone of that control; she actually missed the intimacy of giving him easy access, letting him share her thoughts, something she"d never thought she"d appreciate with anyone.

“Anwyn, what"s happening?” His voice stayed wooden, though, his expression already closing against her.

“I"m letting you go, if that"s what you want,” she said. “I don"t care about the Vampire Council, what they say about not releasing a servant. As far as they"re concerned, I"ll just say you travel for me a great deal.”

He reached for the jeans he"d left over a chair, yanked them on and tossed away the towel with a jerky movement. It gave her only a second to enjoy bare flesh, though she was hypercognizant that he put no briefs on. Only thin denim separated her from him. Thin denim and a chasm only he could cross. And wouldn"t.

“I guess I knew this was coming.” He shrugged. “Whatever.”

Anwyn rose, her eyes on his face, though he wouldn"t meet her gaze. Didn"t he know she could read everything in his mind, feel his pain and betrayal rising to the forefront to tear him apart, even as he used it as his only defense?

“You"re not listening, Gideon. You have two choices, and neither one is wrong. I"m not angry with you, I promise. This was never your decision, becoming a servant.” She pushed aside her own anguish. “While becoming a vampire wasn"t mine, it"s one I can live with.”

“I"ve been here. I"ve been fucking doing what a servant is supposed to do. I haven"t asked you to be different—”

“Do you know what I notice about you?” she interrupted quietly, stepping forward. He pulled on his shirt, raked his hands in his hair, and rocked away from her, avoiding her outstretched hand. Anwyn dropped it, firming her lips. “You won"t refer to yourself directly as my servant, except when necessary for the perception of others. You close your eyes when you feed, when I feed, because you can"t handle seeing yourself feeding or being fed by a vampire.

At the Coffin, you couldn"t accept the part of me that would have forced those girls to feed Daegan. You considered it a great and noble sacrifice to offer Daegan your blood, because it was still something you were deeply reluctant to do. When he refused, it angered and hurt you, but there was relief as well.”

“Doesn"t sound like there"s a choice anywhere in there,” he said gruffly.

“If you wish to stay with me, you accept three things. You accept me as a vampire, not as a victim of one. You accept yourself as a servant, with me as your vampire Mistress. If I see in your mind that you can accept that right now, then you can stay.”

“Fine, I accept it. That"s only two things.”

She arched a brow at the obvious lie. “You accept Daegan. Feed him tonight, and let him take you to his bed, without me.”

He stepped backward involuntarily, though he tried to catch himself. “See?” She nodded with a sad smile. “Your mind rejects all those requirements, Gideon, perversely because your heart and soul don’t. It"s exactly what they want, but your mind is the guard at the prison gates.