Page 35 of Daughter of a Monster

I try to brush past him, keep moving, but he grabs my hand, holding me back. “Sit a while. Please,” he adds when I hesitate. “Just take a breather, okay?”

He pulls me down so we’re sitting on what once would have been a wall but is now just a crumple of bricks. I take a deep breath, purposely not thinking about the news I just received and look out over the Sanctuary, drinking in the scenery. I take in all I can, needing something to concentrate on, something to distract me.

Beside me, Gideon matches his breaths to mine. He’s still holding my hand, something which would usually make me feel trapped but for some reason it calms me.

“There,” he says after a few more deep breaths. “You’re getting some color back now. You feel any better?”

I laugh, hoping to sound happy and carefree, but instead I sound slightly deranged. “Honestly, I’m fine. Silly old me thought I’d be able to run up and back down that hill without taking a break.” I offer him a smile to reinforce the lie.

“You sure you’re okay? You sure it was nothing else?” He peers at me intently, squeezing my hand. “Nothing scared you?”

I take another breath as if to prove to him I’m okay. My shoulders rise and fall and strangely, I do feel better. There is no way my father knows I’m here. Everything is fine. I’m fine.

Gideon stares at me with narrowed eyes. He has this amused smirk on his face.

“What?” I ask, feeling the burn of his curiosity.

“What is it about you that has my brother so fascinated?”

I laugh. “He barely tolerates me.”

“And yet you’re here. Ask anyone how long they’ve been working for him. It’s years. My brother values loyalty above everything else. You’re the first person he’s invited to live at the Sanctuary since… Well, it’s been years. There must be something he wants from you.”

“There is.” I withdraw my hand from his. “For Ette’s dream of taking dance lessons to come true.”

Gideon laughs. He runs his hand through his mess of dark curls and leans back, resting his arms behind him. “Ette never expressed an interest in dance.”

“Maybe not to you.”

“Not at all.” He leans close and whispers in my ear. “Not ever.”

For some reason the tone of his voice sends shivers down my spine and I get up, eager to put some space between us. As much as I’m attracted to Jericho there’s something about his brother which unsettles me, makes me nervous. They have a similar feel about them, like a person out of place, but where Jericho’s pretense seems like he’s hiding part of himself, Gideon feels more like he’s hiding something other than himself.

He shakes his head. “No. You’re here for a reason, I just don’t know what it is. Well,” he winks, “other than the obvious.”

I fold my arms. “Which is?”

Gideon jumps to his feet, leaning in close to answer. “He wants to fuck you.”

I roll my eyes, but my insides clench just at the suggestion. The amount of flashes I’ve had about Jericho and the way he makes me feel, the way my body reacts makes me wish it were true. But I don’t say any of that.

“As I said, he barely tolerates me.”

Gideon laughs. “You’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s all macho possessive and stuff. Me. Man. Want. Woman,” he growls in a caveman-style voice. He grins, then reaches out to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. I fight the urge to move.

“I want to know why,” he says quietly.

Something heats between us and I take a step away. Gideon, unaffected, starts walking toward the entrance to the Sanctuary.

“I mean, I get why he wants to fuck you. You’re gorgeous and utterly fuckable, those eyes, that body, the talent.” He glances back to run his gaze over me before turning forward again. “And god knows my brother needs a good fuck, but there’s something else. Something more.”

I follow him, walking quickly to catch up. “You haven’t even seen me dance.” I choose to ignore his other comments.

“Yes, I have. At your audition.”

“You were there?”

“Yes, my brother seems to be insisting I have a front-row seat to the pretense of why you’re here. But obviously, you didn’t notice me.” He pulls an exaggerated pout.

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