Jesse was reasonably certain the office was still empty when he returned, but he still searched through both the office and the apartment looking for any sign of Gideon. He wanted to study the photographs closer, but he didn’t necessarily want Gideon to know he had them. Not yet.
Jess settled on the couch in Gideon’s apartment, turning on every light in the room to study the tiny print that accompanied each picture. He hoped it would supply more clues about the victims’ identities, as well as the context of the photos. Who was behind the camera? Another vampire? A human? Did the photographer survive long after he snapped the final image? Who developed the film? Who took the time to publish it?
He hoped the title page would help answer those questions, but there was no title page, or anything resembling a copyright page. The cover was similarly unmarked. No title, no author, no publisher, nothing one would expect to find on a cover. Jesse realized it had been privately bound. This might have been the only copy in existence. Had Gideon hired, or forced, somebody to make this book for his own private collection? That seemed like the most reasonable guess, but if that was the case, how had Michelle acquired it?
There were prints before he reached the section Michelle had shown him, but none of them featured Gideon, or anybody Jesse recognized from the other photos. Many of them were explicit, staged sex, but others had a more PG-rating. They didn’t seem at all the sort of thing Gideon would want to keep for his own pleasure. His tastes for sex weren’t so vanilla, and as far as his tastes for art went, he usually liked work that was more bold, more startling, even disturbing and frightening.
Even though he knew how this particular series of photos would end, he still felt a thrill at the first sight of Gideon. Aesthetically, he was a truly beautiful creature. That judgment was completely separate from Jesse’s physical attraction to the vampire. Tall, muscular, with flashing black eyes and that wicked, full mouth. He would challenge anybody to look at Gideon, without any preconceptions, and admit he wasn’t stunning.
The text beneath the first photograph provided names and identities. The girl with the black hair was Anna, and the girl closest to Gideon was called Maggie. The boy closest to Gideon was Sam, and the fourth member of the party was identified as George. Nobody had last names or ages. They looked younger than ever to Jesse in the bright light, though he didn’t place them much below eighteen.
Jesse flipped through the pages slowly, taking his time to study the details of each one. He was forced to unzip his pants when Gideon began appearing fully nude. He felt like he might have been doing something a little wrong—this was not supposed to be wanking material. But Gideon’s body had always had a strong effect on him, and the new ability to admire, worship, kiss, and touch that body didn’t dampen his immediate reaction to the sight of it. If anything, it made the reaction stronger, quicker.
He turned to the picture that had caught his attention before. He saw now that Sam was the one in the photo, and he was gripping his ankles, the tips of his hair brushing against the ground. Both Sam and Gideon were in profile, and Gideon’s cock was stiff, acting like a bridge to link Sam’s slim body with Gideon’s much broader frame. Gideon was holding his hips, possibly to keep from knocking him over.
It was far too easy to imagine himself in Sam’s place. Curious, he went to the next page, and it was the same pose, only Gideon’s cock was half into his ass. In the third image, Gideon was fully seated. Jesse took his cock in hand, stroking himself slowly, trying to ease the sudden throbbing, and he immediately realized his own hand wasn’t going to be enough.
He was still sore from the night before, but he desperately wanted Gideon’s cock. He never took his eyes from the book. Was this the first time Gideon had fucked Sam, or had it been a regular occurrence? Did Gideon fuck him slowly? Or had it been the more punishing pace that he used with Jesse?
Jess ran his palm over his tip, gathering the thick drops of pre-come and smearing it over the head. He rotated his wrist, circling his cock with his palm, spreading more and more of the clear fluid. He set the book aside, but kept the page open, his other hand moving between his thighs to gently squeeze and pull on his balls.
He reached over, turning the pages back to the one with Gideon sucking George’s cock. He focused on George’s face. Something like pure bliss colored it, and his eyes were open, focused on Gideon, adoring. Not that Jesse blamed the guy. He probably had a similar look when Gideon got between his legs. He began stroking himself, moving his hand in long, quick jerks.
In the past, most of his fantasies had been reserved for Gideon, but now it was different. Instead of wondering what it would feel like to have his cock buried in Gideon’s throat, he could recall every detail, every touch, every bit of pressure and subtle shift of Gideon’s tongue. Instead of wondering if Gideon would tie him up, he knew to expect chains and a leash. Instead of imagining just how far Gideon would be willing to go with him, he felt the phantom memory of the whip on his shoulders and back.
He moved his arm faster, shaking the couch with his effort. The pages fell backward, until the final one was staring back at Jess. He’d have to stop to flip the photos back, or close the book entirely, and he didn’t want to stop. His thighs tensed, his back straightened, and he looked away from the book at the last moment before he climaxed.
“Last night wasn’t enough for you?”
Everything in him jerked at the sound of Gideon’s voice, and Jess scrambled to try and tuck himself away as he shifted to see Gideon standing in the doorway. His hair was wet, plastered to his forehead, as was his dark shirt to his muscled chest. There were fresh scratches scored down his cheek, and mud stained the cuffs of his pants. Something had happened. The question was what.
Gideon’s eyes flickered to the book lying open at Jesse’s side, and his brows drew together slightly. “What are you looking at?”
Jesse wiped his hands on his pants before closing the book. He didn’t know what he felt more awkward about. The fact that he had been getting himself off while Gideon was out getting drenched and scratched, or what he was getting himself off to. “It’s a book,” he said lamely. “Michelle…gave it to me.”
“Michelle’s dealing in porn now?”
“Not dealing in it, no. But it seems she’s got quite the impressive collection in the basement.” He stood and held the book out to Gideon. “It’s not so much porn as her idea of a warning.”
Jess studied Gideon closely, gauging his every reaction. There was the moment of hesitation before Gideon took the text. There was the brush of his thumb over the spine when he tilted it to look for the title. There was the lowering of his lashes as he simply regarded the cover before handing it back, unopened.
“I hope you didn’t get anything on the pages,” he commented. “It’s one of a kind.”
“Please, Gideon. You know me better than that.” He held the book loosely at his side. “Did you have it made?”
“No. It was never mine. I was just asked to…” He paused, his eyes inscrutable as he searched for the word he wanted. “…contribute.”
Jesse nodded. “It was clearly somebody’s private volume. Did the other members know what they were contributing to?”
A longer pause. “No. We thought that would spoil the effect.”
“Do you think I should take it as the warning she intended?”
For the first time since being noticed, Gideon’s façade crumpled a bit. He ran his hand through his hair, pushing the wet strands off his brow, and then rolled his neck, as if to release tension. “What do you want me to say, Jess? You’ve known all along I have a past. You never seemed to have a problem with it before. Or last night. Or hell, even now.” He took a sudden step forward, entering Jesse’s personal space and leaning in to sniff at his neck. “Do you have any idea what you smell like? This moment, right after you’ve come, this is when you smell the most delicious. Because your blood is still hot, and your heart is still racing, and all I want is to tear into your throat and ass until you bleed even more. So you tell me. Is it a warning or not?”
Jesse’s mouth ran dry, and even though most of his instincts screamed at him to back off, he took a step closer. “I don’t have a problem with your past. I never have. I’m more worried about what you’re doing now.” He tilted his head, exposing his neck further. “I more or less told Michelle to mind her own business. But I would like to know what the difference for you is between me and them.”
He felt the brush of Gideon’s nose against his skin the moment before Gideon cupped a hand around the back of his neck and held him utterly still.
“The difference is knowing when to stop and then caring enough to actually do it.” When Gideon snaked his tongue around the shell of Jesse’s ear, a shiver ran down Jess’ spine. “Even when I know how badly you want it.”
Jesse clutched Gideon’s shirt with one hand, his other hand sneaking between their bodies to cup Gideon’s erection. “I’m glad one of us knows when to stop,” he murmured. “Because sometimes I do want it.”
Gideon snorted. “I’m beginning to wonder if your definition of sometimes is the same as Webster’s.” Carefully, he folded his hands over Jesse’s and peeled them off, pushing him away at the same time. “I came up because I found Tricia. I thought you’d want to know.”
Jesse blinked stupidly, his brain still three steps back, fixated on Gideon’s mouth so close to his neck. “Tricia? You brought her here?” Saying her name seemed to help. “Are the scratches courtesy of her?
Gideon nodded. “She tried making a dash for it when I was dragging her ass back out to the car. Let’s say she’s not exactly thrilled about being here.”
“No, I can’t imagine she would be.” Jesse put the book away on a high shelf. “I want to come up and hear what she has to say.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
Jesse immediately wanted to protest that Gideon couldn’t shield him from half of the investigation, but he was tired of that particular song and dance routine. “Gideon, I’m going to need every bit of information I can get to identify the ingredients in the elixir. I doubt you’re going to be able to keep track of every tiny, seemingly insignificant detail, but I can.”
“You can,” Gideon conceded. “But do you really want to watch me strip the skin from Tricia to get it? And be honest, Jess. This isn’t about sex. This is about watching me use every means in my power to get her to talk, because right now, she’s more scared of Henry than me. I have to change her way of thinking.”
No, he really didn’t. Gideon had always kept him from the interrogations, and Jesse had always been happy not to press the issue. But they had never had a case that frightened him like this. At least one person was dead, but Jesse did not doubt for a second that the body count was much higher than that. He would have been dead if Gideon had wanted to kill him more than he wanted to fuck him. And the elixir he had carefully stored away was like a ticking time bomb, silently counting down the seconds to the moment when all their efforts would be made futile.
“I don’t want to see it, Gideon. But I don’t want to start finding more mutilated and brutalized corpses, either. Getting the information I need is more important than protecting my delicate sensibilities.”
A small smile lifted the corner of Gideon’s mouth. “Delicate is not a word I would ever use to describe you.” He paused. “Promise you won’t intervene in any way.”
“I’m just going to observe, Gideon, I promise. This is entirely your deal, and I’m happy to keep it that way.”
Gideon was nodding before he finished speaking. “All I’ve been able to get from her so far is that she’s been hiding from Henry ever since Toby’s death. That’s why she hasn’t been around Sangre. The question is why.”
Jesse thought the answer to that was obvious—fear. They didn’t need to look at the why, they needed to worry about the what. What monster scared the monsters? “Let me wash up and get my notebook. I can meet you upstairs.”
He watched Gideon turn and leave, and promptly did the same. The soft sound of his name being called out made him stop.
“What’s the difference between me now and the me in the book?” Gideon’s eyes were dark and solemn, fixed so intently on him that it felt like an embrace. “For you, Jess.”
“You want to do good now. I don’t believe you would kill four innocent people for the sake of somebody’s private…art…collection. I’m not saying that you couldn’t, but you wouldn’t.” Jesse half shrugged. That wasn’t the largest difference. The vampire in the book was a face, a body, and an act, but he wasn’t the man Jesse had spent the last two years with. “The difference is that you’re my friend.”
The answer seemed to satisfy Gideon, and he turned again to go upstairs.
“Gideon?” He paused, looking over his shoulder. “Do you mind if I keep the book?”
“Truth? Yeah, I mind. I don’t much…like the man in that book. But I trust you meant what you said. So if you want to keep it, I’ll deal.” A ghost of a smile haunted his face. “Besides, I know how fucking hot most of those pictures are. I can’t say I can blame you for wanting to keep ‘em around.”
“Fair enough. Maybe we’ll just have to replace them with our own pictures some time,” Jesse suggested as Gideon disappeared upstairs.
Glancing at the book, he smiled wryly. He was sure whatever Michelle intended to happen, it wasn’t this sort of discussion and negotiation. But then, she wouldn’t have believed a word Gideon said anyway. He did, though. Every single one. Sometimes, that felt like asking for trouble. But now it felt like the right thing to do.