Death was immediate. Gideon dropped the big corpse as the titanium began to feed on the Rogue, dissolving it from the inside out. In mere minutes, the lump of dying flesh and bone would be nothing more than ash, then all evidence of its existence gone altogether.
Gideon turned to face Savannah. "Are you hurt?"
Mutely, she shook her head. "Gideon...who was he? What was he?" She drew in a ragged breath. "My God, what the hell is going on?"
Gideon stowed his bloodied blade and went to her. He pulled her trembling body under his arm and gently lifted her face. "Did he touch you?"
"No," she murmured. "But if you hadn't been here..."
He kissed her, a brief, tender brush of his mouth against hers. "I'm here. I will keep you safe, Savannah. Do you trust me?"
"Yes," she whispered. "I trust you." She peered around him, to where the dead Rogue was swiftly disintegrating, clothing and all. "But I don't understand any of this. How can any of this be real?"
"Come on." He took her hand in his. "There could be more where that one came from. We have to go now."
He led her out of the restroom, back into the bustle of the station. It wasn't until they were standing at the curb in the cool night air that Gideon realized he was at a loss as to where to go.
Savannah's apartment was across town, several miles away. Not that it seemed like a smart idea to take her there. He doubted very much that the Rogue going after her at the bus station was a random thing. Whoever put the suckhead on her trail would no doubt have her apartment under watch too. And as much as Gideon wanted to know who that someone was, Savannah's wellbeing was his sole concern now.
Which should have been cause enough to send him with her to the nearest Darkhaven.
To be sure, that would be the most logical, pragmatic choice. But logic and pragmatism could get f**ked right about now, for all he cared about that.
He wasn't ready to yank Savannah away from harrowing situation and a thousand questions in need of answers, only to turn her over to the diplomatic arm of the Breed nation. In fact, he was finding it hard to imagine a scenario where he'd ever be ready to hand her over to someone else and walk away. He felt her soft fingers tighten around his broad palm as she stood beside him in the dark, waiting for him to make his choice.
Trusting him to keep her safe, as he promised he would.
Gideon glanced into her velvet brown gaze and knew a sudden, fierce protectiveness surge through him. Sending her away now was out of the question. It was his duty to walk her into his world gently. He bristled at the thought of letting some stranger out of the Enforcement Agency or civilian ranks step in where this woman was concerned.
His woman.
The claim swept up on him from somewhere deep in his subconscious, a sharp, primal thing. It throbbed in his veins, drumming hard in his ears with every beat of his heart.
And he needed her too.
After seeing her so close to danger back in the station--after realizing how quickly he might have lost her tonight--Gideon wanted nothing more than pull Savannah against him and never let her out of his sight again.
He wasn't going to push her off on the Darkhavens or the Enforcement Agency, even if that meant willfully ignoring Breed protocol.
Even if that meant blatantly defying Lucan's orders.
Gideon reached into the pocket of his black fatigues and withdrew the scrap of paper Tegan had given him back the compound earlier that day. He read it for a second time. Just an address, nothing more.
An address that was only a few blocks away from where he stood now.
He wasn't sure what to expect when they got there, but at the moment it seemed to be his best and only option.
"Let's go," he murmured, brushing his mouth against the warmth of her temple.
And with Savannah tucked under the shelter of his arm, clinging to him like a life line, Gideon guided her away from the busy bus terminal.
Chapter 10
"What is this place?"
Savannah stood beside Gideon on a quiet, historic residential street little more than a mile from South Station, by her guess. Before them loomed a slim, three-story redbrick townhouse. It was stately, but unremarkably so next to its handsome, welcoming neighbors.
No lights glowed from within this house, no sounds emanated from within its walls. Its windows were dark, shuttered tight with black slatted panels. The iron-and-glass porch light was cold, leaving the walkway and stoop unlit as she and Gideon had made their way up to the heavy wood door.
The house, for all its seemingly deliberate effort to blend in with the others on the street, stood forbidding in its utter stillness.
Savannah rubbed off the chill that raced up her arms as she took in the stoic slab of brick and darkness. "Does anyone live here? It's as quiet as a tomb."
"I've never been here before," Gideon said. Head down, he stared with steady intent on the deadbolt drilled into the thick oak door. Although she didn't notice if he had a key, in mere seconds, the lock was freed and Gideon opened the door for her. "Come inside."
She followed him, pausing in the unfamiliar place, uncertain. Still shaken from what happened at the bus station. "It's so dark in here."
"Stay where you are." His deep voice with its soothing accent was a low rumble beside her, his blunt fingertips warm where he stroked the side of her face. "I'll find you some light."
She waited while he ably crossed the room and turned on a small lamp several feet away from her.
The soft illumination revealed a nearly vacant living space. One lone chair--a rough-hewn relic from the turn of the previous century, at least--sat beside the simple wooden table where the lamp now glowed. On the other side of the room, the cold, black mouth of a fireplace seemingly long out of use laced the stale air with the acrid tinge of old wood smoke.