Hell, I know you. You're not comfortable with that. You're not a killer. " "I was a killer when I helped you. " Jacob pushed his plate to the side. "A killer takes someone's life intentionally, against their will, whether justly or unjustly. I haven't got all the answers. I just know I'm where I'm supposed to be. " "I don't understand you at all. " "Yes, you do. " Jacob met his gaze. "You just don't want to. The first girl you ever loved died at a vampire's hand. " A muscle flexed in Gideon's jaw. "According to your logic, I should have said `that's Nature' and walked away. " "No. Actions have consequences. Vampires know that as well as we do. But Gideon, you were eighteen and Laura was sixteen. You're getting more bitter, year by year. Would she have wanted this--" "Stop crawling around in my head. " Gideon jabbed a finger at him. "I don't care about their motives. If I can kill every last one of them, I will. " So no man will ever again have to grieve until his heart cannibal- izes itself. Jacob remembered Laura. He'd thought she was too fragile for his brother's strong personality, but she had a sweetness no man could resist wanting to protect. So the man who chose to love her would have felt doubly responsible when he couldn't keep her from getting killed. Particularly a man who had lost his parents when he was only twelve, left with the self-imposed responsibility of looking after his eight-year-old brother. His brother would keep driving himself with hate and blood un- til he was dead. The signs had been there for a while. Like any person with a family member addicted to a destructive path, Jacob had tried everything, even joining him. In the end the only thing he could do was walk away, refusing to support the self-destruction anymore. With a sinking heart, he realized that it appeared only to have made his brother more committed to his violent path. It was now Gideon against the whole world and all it had done to hurt him, manifested in the form of shadowy creatures of the night with gleaming fangs. "Why, Jacob? Just . . . Why?" Why have you done this to me? To us? It was as clear as if Gideon had spoken the thought.
Because he couldn't harden himself against the anguish in Gide- on's voice, Jacob took one more stab at honesty. "She was in my dreams long before I even met her, Gid. You know how I've always felt like I was searching for something? That night we saw her, sud- denly there was this huge relief inside me. There you are. Boom. The monk that trained me believed I've served her before. In previous lifetimes. " Seeing Gideon's lip curling up in a sneer, he continued stub- bornly, "I don't know whether I believe that, and it's not relevant, regardless. Now's the important thing. You remember how you felt about Laura? Barely even met her, and you couldn't imagine life without her from then on. " Gideon's gaze frosted over, chilling the air between them. In a blink, any progress Jacob thought he'd been making evaporated.
"She's nothing like Laura. Don't you ever put her and one of those bloodthirsty cunts in the same category. " "Young man. " The lady across the aisle spoke sharply, even as her friend reached out a quelling hand to her. "That's enough. " Gideon glanced toward her. "Mind your own business, bitch. Stick your head back in the sand with all the rest of them, my stupid fucking brother included. " "Gideon, " Jacob snapped. He nodded apologetically to the two women and noted the hostile looks from the construction workers seated behind them. Leveling a warning look at his brother, he spoke quietly. "I don't even know who you are anymore, Gideon. " "Same goes on that score, little brother. " Biting back a response, Jacob laid a twenty on the table. "I think we're done here. I'll cover this. " "With her money? I don't think so. " "It's my money, Gideon. " Jacob stood, studying him. The large hands curled in helpless fury on the tabletop, the blue eyes glaring, the jaw so rigid it looked like it would crack under the strain. "As long as you're like this, there's nothing we have to say to each other. " "Don't think I won't hesitate to kill you if you get in my way. " Once, two boys had run through the surf, sunlight flashing on the water they kicked up, making it sparkle.
Laughter had bounced be-tween them like a tossed ball. He'd tried to grab Gideon, knock him into the water, but Gideon caught him in a headlock and they both tumbled in. Jacob tried to grasp at that image to block the pain of the icily delivered threat, but he couldn't hold on to it. "You sick son of a bitch. " He pitched his voice low, picked up the money Gideon had swept onto the floor and laid it deliberately back on the table, under his coffee cup. "Fuck you. " He turned away, wanting nothing more than to go off somewhere and get a shot of the strongest proof alcohol he could find. He won- dered what Lyssa would think if he came home with his blood over- loaded with sugar, caffeine and alcohol. It was the gasp from the women, followed by a call of warning from one of the workers, that alerted him. He spun just as Gideon surged up from the table with a clatter of tableware to ram him mid- body. They hit the edge of the ladies' table and toppled it along with its crockery as they tumbled to the floor. Gideon landed one eardrum-shattering punch high on the jaw before Jacob rallied, rolled, broke the hold. "You're coming with me. You're not going back to her. " Jacob swung, a hard uppercut that sent Gideon staggering back several steps and bought him the time to scramble to his own feet. "No, I'm not. You stupid, thickheaded--" With a roar, Gideon came back at him. This time he managed to take them both over the dividing wall between two rows of booths. It tangled them with its occupants, a group of workers who reacted far more belligerently than the elderly women. A rough shove and a few blows took him and Gideon back to the floor, baptized by spilled food and drinks, and even more colorful curses that would have the ladies' ears burning. Jacob blocked an- other punch, Gideon's he thought, then caught his brother's thrown fist and turned the both of them, wrestling, trying to pin him. Gideon was strong, seasoned, but Jacob was faster, and they were both armed with Irish temper. It had always taken longer to rouse in Jacob, but once unleashed it was no less violent. Gideon ducked un- der the next blow and rammed his fist into Jacob's stomach. Jacob reacted with another punch to his face, hitting his lip and winning first blood.
The restaurant was clearing, people were shouting. Jacob was vaguely aware a couple of the less sensible workers had jumped into the fray, trying to pull them apart. In the end, they had to give up and stand back to avoid being casualties, for the two brothers were too skilled at fighting to countenance interruption and the workers just kept being tossed to the outside. Jacob maneuvered them to the corner, caught Gideon by the scruff and slung him against the emergency exit. The alarm deto- nated when the crash bar gave way under Gideon's weight, but by then they were in the alley and out of the area involving innocent bystanders or destruction of property Jacob knew he didn't have the funds to replace. He charged Gideon with a yell, tumbling them into a collection of garbage cans that scattered like bowling pins as they landed among them. In some distant part of his mind, Jacob knew they were riding the rage, letting it drown out the memories of loss that had bonded them so closely as well as driven them apart. It drowned out everything, including the police sirens.