The other warrior glanced over at her once more, a flat look that made her discomfort deepen even more.
"Gideon was looking at some of the library's artwork. It was just before closing, and..."
Her words drifted off as an unwanted realization began to settle on her.
Right. He just happened to be at the library, not looking for books, but browsing artwork outside her office. Flirting with her. Quoting Plutarch and practically charming her pants off under the Abbey Room murals.
Pretending he knew nothing about the fact that her roommate had been murdered the night before by a goddamn vampire--one of his own kind.
Savannah felt oddly exposed. Like a fool who had arrived two minutes after a punch line.
"Are you saying he sought me out that night?"
The warrior swore, low under his breath, but he didn't answer her question. There was no need. She knew the truth now. Finally, she supposed.
Gideon had seen her interview on the news and pursued her to get information on someone he was determined to find. Someone he believed was his enemy, perhaps connected to the murders of his brothers.
He'd used her.
That's why he knew where she lived, why he was always in the right place at the right time with her.
He was tracking her the way he would any other prey...or pawn.
God, was everything between them just part of some plan? Some private vendetta he meant to pursue?
Savannah staggered backward a pace, feeling as if she'd just been slapped.
He was still using her today, encouraging her to touch Rachel's bracelet so he could learn more about Keaton and the vampire who'd attacked him.
Now Gideon was lying there at her feet, wounded and weak, unconscious and bleeding--maybe dying--because of his damned quest.
And she was standing over him like an idiot, feeling helpless and afraid...terrified that she had let herself fall in love with him, when all she'd apparently been to him was a means to an end.
It was easier to accept that he was Breed--something far other than human--than it was to realize she'd been played this whole time. The hurt she felt was like cold steel in the center of her being.
One other person had used her to get something he wanted more, but Danny Meeks had only taken her virginity. Gideon had taken her heart.
Savannah took a step back. Then another, watching as Gideon's comrade from the Order adjusted the tourniquet around his savaged thigh and prepared to carry him back to where he belonged.
She felt cool air at her back as she edged out the open door and into the night.
Then she pivoted and bolted, before the first hot tears began to flood her cheeks.
Chapter 15
"Savannah."
Gideon jolted back to wakefulness on a shout, his sole concern, his every cell, honed in on a single thought...her.
He sat up and felt the sharp stab of pain answer from all over his body, the worst of it coming from the deep gash in his thigh. He was in a bed. Lying in the Order's infirmary. He breathed in, and didn't smell any of the ash or sweat or blood that had crusted every square inch of him following his ordeal at the Minion's house. Someone had gone to the trouble of cleaning him up after patching him back together.
"What time is it?" he murmured out loud. How long had he been unconscious? "Ah, shit. What day is it?"
"It's okay, Gideon. Relax." A gentle female hand settled on his bare shoulder. "You're okay. Tegan brought you back to the compound last night."
Last night.
"Danika," he rasped, peeling his eyes open to look up at Conlan's Breedmate, who stood beside him, a roll of white gauze bandages in her hand. "Where is she? Where's Savannah?"
The tall blonde gave a sympathetic shake of her head. "I'm sorry, I don't know."
Damn it. Gideon threw off the sheet and swung his legs around to the side of the bed, ignoring the hot, spearing complaint of his wounds. "I need to see her. I need to find her. Keaton's Master is still out there somewhere. She's not safe--"
"She's gone, man." Tegan stood at the threshold of the infirmary room. His face was grim, barely an acknowledgment as Danika quietly slipped out and left the two warriors alone. "My fault, Gideon. I didn't know--"
"What happened?" A spike of adrenaline and dread shot into his veins. "What did you do to her?"
"Told her the truth. Which is apparently more than you'd done."
"Ah, f**k." Gideon raked a hand through his hair. "Fuck me. What did you tell her, T?"
A vague shrug, although his green eyes stayed unreadable. "That she's been your personal obsession since you saw her on that newscast the day of the attack at the university."
Gideon groaned. "Shit."
"Yeah, she wasn't exactly happy to hear that."
"I have to go to her. She could be in danger, Tegan. I need to find her and make sure she's all right. I have to make sure she knows that I love her. That I need her."
"You're not in any condition to leave the compound."
"Fuck that." Gideon heaved onto his feet, grimacing at the agony of his wounded leg, but not about to let something as trivial as a recently severed femoral artery keep him from going after the woman he loved. "She's mine. She belongs with me. I'm going to tell her that, and then I'm going to bring her back."
Tegan grunted. "Kind of figured you might say that. And I'm way ahead of you, my man--for once, maybe. Got the Order's charter jet on standby, fueled up and waiting for you at the private hangar. You just need to tell the pilots where you want to go."
"Louisiana," he murmured. "She'll have gone home to Louisiana."
Tegan tossed him a stack of fresh clothing that had been set next to the bed. "What are you waiting for, then? Get the f**k outta here."