At first, Xander frowned, looking as though he intended to object. But then, with a meaningful glance from Gideon, he asked, “How long since you last—”
“Four weeks.” Gideon cut him off.
“Four weeks since what?” Maggie looked back and forth between them.
If Gideon hadn’t looked happy before, he looked downright thunderous now. Without a word of warning, the backyard shifted and fell away, only to be replaced by the bedroom they’d shared so intimately just last night.
As soon as they solidified, Maggie bent over at the waist and gagged. It took every ounce of her self-control not to vomit all over the floor. Or his boots. She should have. It would have served him right for pulling such an underhanded stunt.
With a stifled curse, Gideon conjured a trash can and thrust it under her face.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sounding truly contrite as he held her hair back from her face.
When her stomach finally settled, she allowed him to guide her to the bed and help her lie down. The room spun around her, and she broke out in a cold sweat. He sat down next to her, and gingerly blotted a wet cloth against her cheeks and forehead.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. His face was pale, his expression pinched.
“No more shimmering,” she pleaded softly. “Please, Gideon. It was really bad this time. Worse than the first time. I…I think it might not be a good idea right now,” she said, slipping a hand protectively over her stomach.
He glanced down, swallowed and nodded. “No more. Unless it’s an emergency.” He smoothed her hair back. “Okay now?”
Maggie drew a testing breath. “I think so.” She made to rise, but he gently pushed her back against the pillows.
“Rest for a little while. You’re still white as a sheet.” He was a fine one to be talking, because he certainly didn’t appear to be in any better condition. Before she could object to his orders, he pressed a fingertip to her lips and offered her a rueful smile. “You can train again tomorrow. I won’t get in the way this time, I promise. Kyanna’s right. You need to be able to be able to protect yourself.”
She smiled weakly up at him.
He turned serious as he absently reached up and smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. “I have to—” He broke off abruptly, biting the edge of his lip. “I’m going to be busy for a little while. I’m going to have either Xander or Niklas stay with you till I get back. Just for a few hours.”
“Where are you going?”
He looked as though he wanted to crawl under a rock. Gideon licked his lips and glanced away.
“Gideon?”
He met her stare, his expression blanking right before her eyes. “I have to go.”
“But—”
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, silencing her. His beautiful golden eyes were filled with remorse as they roamed her face. Without another word, he rose from the bed and strode toward the door.
“Gideon,” she called, pushing herself upright. “Wait! Where are you going?”
But he just kept walking, stopping only to draw the door closed gently behind him.
Chapter Seventeen
Gideon drew his phone from his pocket and thumbed in a speed dial number. The phone rang several times, just long enough for him to nearly give up hope. Just as he was preparing to disconnect the call, a deep voice answered.
“She is well?”
Well, that was disconcerting. Frowning, Gideon said, “Maggie’s fine.” Shaking his head over Maggie’s ability to bring out odd reactions in males, demon or otherwise, he raked a hand through his hair. “I need a favor.”
A beat of silence. “What?”
“I need you to look somebody up for me. A human,” he added, gritting his teeth as self-disgust boiled like acid in his guts. Gideon descended the grand staircase, making his way to the den.
After giving Mikhail the details, he disconnected the call, pushed the door to the study open and strode inside, unsurprised to find Niklas and Xander had made themselves at home in the matching wingback chairs flanking the cold fireplace. A can of Pepsi rested in Xander’s hand, a beer in Niklas’s. Gideon crossed the room and sank onto the padded leather chair behind his desk. He thought about conjuring himself his usual coffee, but doubted caffeine would help at this point. His gaze drifted to the ceiling. Heaving a sigh, he conjured a crystal tumbler filled nearly to the brim with the strongest rotgut he could think of. He let his shoulders slump, weary to the bone.
Taking a sip, Gideon sucked in a sharp breath at the burn. His voice was a little hoarse when he finally asked, “Where are Carly and Kyanna?”
“In the kitchen having tea,” Niklas supplied. “They figured you needed a little man time.”
He should have guessed as much. Neither the Slayer, nor the Seer for that matter, often let their mates far from their sides.
Overprotective asses.
But that thought gave him pause, and he stilled, glass lifted halfway to his lips.
That was exactly what he was fast becoming.