Gideon had run into the nest, and all hell had broken loose. He'd killed rampantly and without mercy. It had been a bad place, anyhow. Even now, the guilt Quinn felt about it was tempered by the fact that he knew it was a gang of vampires, no females or children, who harvested humans for their blood and kept them barely alive in order to keep the supply steady.
But Gideon had gone over the line. The sole vampire Quinn had killed that night was a young male who had tried to flee only to find himself face to face with Quinn. The vamp had wanted to fight to the death.
Quinn couldn't argue. Luckily, even with his inexperience, he'd won.
Meanwhile, Gideon had killed ten vamps all by himself. When it was done, he stood in the middle of the nest, surrounded by a few whole bodies of the young ones and the remains of the old vamps, who'd disintegrated. His face was covered with blood, and it hadn't been his own. He'd turned to Quinn and said, "That was fun." And then he'd laughed.
Quinn's blood had run cold.
Just as it did at that very moment as he watched Gideon, now in hismidthirties , standing in the backstage area of El Diablo's Hell's Gate Theater, wearing a tuxedo that was probably custom-made for him.
He was an imposing man. Over six feet, with dark brown hair and piercing green eyes. Chicks were all over the guy, not just for his money—of which he had billions—but for his male model looks that camouflaged the cold, calculated killer beneath.
Quinn had been jealous of him at one time. The guy had everything going for him. He'd gone to Harvard and studied politics and business, graduated top of his class.
Plus Gideon's father thought he the perfect son who could do no wrong.
Quinn had absolutely no idea what it would be like to have a father like that.
Okay, Quinn thought.How the hell am I going to get past Gideon ?
Time was running out.
Janie was waiting for him. Counting on him to come through.
He still couldn't believe the turn of events that evening. He was still shaking from seeing Janie drained,
then siring her, then… doing other things to her. All in a matter of not more than an hour.
The most important things in life always happen the quickest.
He could still taste her. His body still ached to touch her.
He shook his head to clear it. Thinking about Janie right now was not going to help him focus on what had to be done. And that was getting past Gideon and getting to the bomb. He glanced at his watch.
Yeah. And he'd better do it quickly.
He looked up and frowned. Gideon had disappeared. Where the hell had he gone so fast? Out onstage?
He felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Quinn? Michael Quinn?" Gideon said. "Is that you?"
Shit, shit, shit.
He turned slowly to face the number-one most important and dangerous man in the hunter organization.
"Gideon," he said slowly. "Great to see you."
Gideon nodded, and there was a smile in his gaze. "It's been too long."
"It certainly has."
"How have you been?"
Quinn swallowed. Didn't he know? Hadn't word made its way through the grapevine that he'd been turned into a vampire against his will? That his father, a leader in his own right, had been murdered and that Quinn's hands weren't exactly clean when it came to that nasty situation?
He forced a smile. "I've been… good. Really good. How about you?"
"Oh, you know. Taking care of business." He slapped Quinn's shoulder.
Taking Care of Business. It had been their theme song for the short time Quinn imagined the two of them as friends. He was surprised Gideon even remembered such a small detail.
"Can't talk long. I have to do my speech." He raised a dark eyebrow. "You know how much I hate public speaking."
Quinn snorted. "Right. Only if the spotlight isn't completely on you?"
"Youdo remember." Gideon laughed loudly. "You're staying to hear me, I hope? I'm going to talk about organization and power in numbers. I've been very busy lately, but I had somebody write it for me. I think it sounds fairly natural."
"Organization?" Quinn couldn't help but find that amusing.
"I know. I was always the gung-ho hunter without the plan, wasn't I? Well, time changes many things, doesn't it?"
You have no idea, he thought. "Listen, do you think I could go onstage for a moment?"
Gideon grinned and looked toward the stage where Quinn was focused on. "Are you serious? You want to say something inspirational to the troops?"
No, I want to grab the bomb that's about to blow your ass straight to hell.
"I'm all for raising morale. If I can do something, then I'd love to be more involved in the organization from now on."
"That's very good of you. I'm sure everyone would love to hear what you have to say. Listen, there's a
VIP party afterward. You are welcome to join us. We need to catch up."
"That sounds really"—incredibly wrong on so many levels—"fantastic. Thanks for the invite."
Gideon smiled thinly. "Quinn, I have to say I'm rather insulted. You must really think I'm very stupid. Is that it?"
He swallowed and kept his face completely neutral. "What are you talking about?"
Gideon's smile held. "Is this some sort of pathetic assassination attempt? Because I get those all the time.
It takes a great deal more to impress me these days."
"Assassination." He frowned so deeply it hurt. "Of course not."