Free My Lord Vampire by Alexandra Ivy Page A

destroy the Medallion as well? His pride and ambition were far too deeply ingrained to allow him to accept defeat gracefully.
    Swiftly becoming lost in the maze of squares, Gideon picked up his pace. The haunting scent of Tristan was much nearer. Perhaps with a bit of luck ...
    Gideon ground out a curse as he entered a darkened alley and was abruptly confronted by a thick mist that reached out to strike a razor-thin cut across his cheek. His fingers lifted to touch the warm blood that welled from the slice, inwardly chiding himself for his stupidity.
    He had been fully on guard and yet he still had walked blindly into the ambush. A certain warning that his growing desperation to put an end to Tristan was rattling the cold logic he had always taken such pride in.
    As if sensing his self-disgust, Tristan gave an eerie chuckle as he swirled in mist before Gideon.
    “You have grown slow and weak, Gideon, hiding behind the Veil. Or is it from hiding behind the skirts of a woman?” he taunted.
    “You begin to annoy me,” Gideon retorted in icy tones. “Show yourself.”
    “So that you can strike that dagger you are hiding in your jacket into my heart? I think not.”
    Gideon forced a mocking smile to his stiff lips. “You always were a coward, Tristan, choosing to prey on those weaker than yourself and hiding in the shadows.”
    The mist briefly swirled, as if Gideon had managed to strike a raw nerve.
    “And you have always been an arrogant prig. However did the Great Council compel you to return to this world of disgusting, inferior humans?”
    Slipping his hand into the jacket to grasp the hilt of the dagger, Gideon gave a shrug. He would not be caught off guard again.
    “Unlike you I comprehend my duty to the vampires. I seek our glory, not our destruction.”
    “Glory?” There was a rasping laugh. “Cowering behind that ridiculous Veil like we are pathetic weaklings rather than the masters of all? These mortals should be our servants; they should bow before us and feed our lust. They should tremble in fear at the mere thought of our presence.”
    It was a call that had been made by more than one vampire since they had left the world behind. There had always been those who desired to conquer and enslave the weak. Tristan, however, had taken the need for conquest to near madness.
    To even think he would seek to destroy the Veil and to challenge the great Nefri herself was unforgivable.
    “We do not cower, we seek the higher truth that makes us superior,” he said in proud tones.
    The mist shimmered, cloaking Gideon in a sensation of malignant disdain.
    “Fah. You are no more than willing chattel to the Great Council. You have become as meek and obedient as well-pampered dogs. And like all leashed dogs you no longer realize you are mere captives. You have forgotten the thrill of the hunt.”
    Gideon smoothly stepped back as his features hardened. “You believe it better to wallow in bloodlust like a savage? You are no better than humans.”
    “I am free,” Tristan grated in angry tones. “I am out of that prison and I will soon rule this world.”
    His hand instinctively tightened upon the dagger. As repulsive as the thought of harming another vampire might be, he would never allow the Veil to be destroyed.
    Or Simone be hurt, a renegade voice whispered in the back of his mind.
    “You will return to the Veil, or you will die,” he stated without emotion.
    “You think you can challenge me?” There was a low growl before the mist flicked out to slice the other side of his face. “You have become soft ... a mere puppet for the Great Council to toy with as they please. I can destroy you whenever I choose.”
    Gideon ignored the stinging pain that lanced through his cheek. He could not afford to be distracted. Poised for another attack, he held the dagger before him.
    “Another will take my place,” he said grimly. “Do you think to battle every vampire?”
    As if satisfied he had made his point, the mist