Dark Guardian (Dark #9)

Dark Guardian (Dark #9) Page 5

Where was Barry? Was he the target? Jaxon didn't dare stop looking for the source of the alarm, not even long enough to assure herself Barry had remained inside the hospital and out of harm's way. Her sharp gaze checked the surrounding rooftops, moved restlessly over the crowd itself. She was very still inside. This was what she knew. This was her way of life.

Lucian had not moved from her side despite her attempt to put him in the clear. He caught the warning signal from her and knew the threat was a human one, not from the undead. He would have felt the presence of the undead far before she would. He swore softly to himself in the ancient language. He should have been scanning the crowds instead of enjoying her reaction to him. It was the first mistake he could ever recall making in his lifetime, and he wasn't very happy with himself. One muscular arm simply swept her behind him where she would be completely protected. His larger frame easily shielded her smaller one, forcing her toward the limousine with its bulletproof, tinted glass.

She struggled, trying to warn him of danger, but he was too preoccupied to take much notice. His mind was probing the crowd for signs of hostility. Her alarm system was working perfectly. Three individuals were attempting to position themselves to catch her in their crossfire. Their instructions were to make certain she was dead this time. Their boss had ordered them to finish the job or to start running. Jaxon Montgomery had made far too big a dent in their boss's business to be tolerated any longer. Barry Radcliff was their secondary target. Lucian read their intent quite easily.

He focused his attack the way he always did, calmly and without rage or anger. First he extracted the information he needed to ensure he could stop any further attempts on Jaxon's life. With that done, he carefully orchestrated the scenario differently than what the assassins' boss had in mind. The three men found themselves drawing their weapons right in plain sight. Screams came from all around them. None of them had a clear sight of their primary target, yet their guns seemed to take on lives of their own, turning toward each other. One man tried to open his hand and drop his weapon, but his hand remained locked around it, his finger slowly tightening so that he felt his gun discharge. The sound of the guns firing simultaneously was loud in the night. Chaos broke out, pandemonium, people racing for cover in all directions.

Lucian remained standing, one hand easily pinning Jaxon in the car where no one could see her around his larger frame. He watched dispassionately as the three men dropped to the street, the water from the darkened skies carrying their blood in tiny streams away from them. For just one moment lightning arced from cloud to cloud, throwing the ground below into stark relief, etching the sight of Lucian standing still and calm in the midst of chaos into Jaxon's mind for all time. The captain and several police and security men were crouched low, looking for any other attackers.

"I think you should put some extra guards on Radcliff," Lucian advised the police captain softly, using that same "push" in his voice that ensured obedience. "Get him out of this hospital, and take him somewhere no one knows. Jaxon and Radcliff made enemies, and the warehouse was an ambush set to get rid of them. These men were here to finish that work and kill the two of them." He spoke so low that only Jaxon and the captain heard. The captain was already nodding in agreement as Lucian turned back to her.

She was still trying to get around his body to see what was happening, but he simply reached into the car and swept her over so that he could slide in beside her. At once the chauffeur closed the door, and they were alone and racing away from the scene.

Jaxon shoved a trembling hand through her short blond hair, a habit when she was agitated. It left the soft, silky strands falling in all directions, wild, the way Lucian liked it. "I can't believe you did that. Lucian, you have to let me protect you. I had the gun. You just stood there, not moving. You're a huge target - did you ever think of that? A sniper on a roof could have had you before you blinked."

She was really afraid for him. He could feel it in her like a living, breathing entity. It was nearly suffocating her. Lucian automatically became aware of his own breathing, deliberately tuning his to hers so that his heart raced and his lungs ached. Just as deliberately he began to slow both of their hearts, breathing calmly for both of them.

"You don't seem to have any instincts for self-preservation at all," she accused. "Have you hunted those horrible creatures for so long, protecting other people, that you no longer give a thought for your own life?" Her eyes actually burned with tears. Fear formed a hard knot in her throat. She had seen little glimpses of his life, and it distressed her. He had trained himself to be disposable, to place himself in harm's way to protect others. He had stood tall and straight, his shoulders square, his expression never changing. It frightened her to think of him like that. He had been far more alone in that moment than she had been her entire life.

Lucian pulled her stiff, resisting body into the curve of his arm and held her to him. His miracle. The light in his unrelenting dark world. Her show of fear for him melted his heart as nothing else could. She thought she didn't know who he was, but she knew him better than he knew himself. Lucian dropped his head protectively over hers, his arms wrapped securely around her so that they clung to each other. How could he have managed to exist in such a bleak void for all those long centuries without her? He knew he could never go back. The will and determination, the remembered love and loyalty, the vow to protect or destroy he had made and kept all those centuries would never be enough now to keep him going should he lose her. If she were taken from him, he would dispense only death and retribution for the rest of his endless days. He would never go quietly into the dawn. His arms tightened, and a smile touched the dark bleakness of his eyes. Joy spread a warmth through his entire body. Yes, he would. He would go wherever she went. If Jaxon moved on to another life, he would follow her there without hesitation.

Jaxon realized her heart had slowed and was matching the rhythm of Lucian's. She was once more able to breathe more easily. The warmth of his body had seeped into hers, and she felt incredibly safe. She closed her eyes and didn't fight the emotions he brought out in her. She liked being in his arms. She liked feeling safe and not so alone. Most of all, Jaxon was determined that Lucian would never feel such stark loneliness again. She knew about being lonely, but the few times she had touched on his mind, his solitary existence had been utterly cold and bleak. It didn't matter that she couldn't examine the why of it very closely; she knew only that nothing else mattered to her quite so much as his safety.

"I am well aware you did something back there to those men," she murmured against his chest, a note of drowsiness creeping into her voice. "Is this chauffeur yours?"

"He is on loan."

"I noticed he didn't hit the ground for cover. He dropped into a crouch and was fishing in his jacket for something. What do you think it was?" Jaxon opened her eyes and studied Lucian's shadowed jaw.

Without conscious thought her fingers crept up to touch his chin.

"I have no idea what most chauffeurs do in such circumstances," Lucian replied innocently. "Perhaps he had a cell phone and was going to call for help."

"Half the police force was already there." She snuggled closer to him. She liked the feel of Lucian's hand in her hair, the way he caressed the silky strands, the touch of his fingertips against her neck. "Who lent him to you?"

"He is the son of a friend's housekeeper"

"A friend's housekeeper?" she echoed, the suspicion in her voice increasing.

He sighed. "This is beginning to sound like an interrogation. Are you a police officer by any chance?"

"Absolutely. Tell me the whole story. I like tall tales."

His hands crept around her neck in a mock threat. "You are going to give me no end of trouble, I can tell."

"No one else does. It isn't good for you to have all that deference paid to you all the time. You get so you believe you deserve it." She was laughing, her body relaxed and pliant against his.

She belonged there. He felt it. Knew it in his deepest soul. There was no doubt in his mind that Jaxon was his other half. Created for him. Destined for him. Each time he looked at her, he found he wanted to smile. Each time he looked at her, his insides turned to molten lava.

Wrought-iron gates loomed up before the limousine, tall and intricate and as beautiful as the estate itself. The chauffeur drove the limousine smoothly through the opening and up the long drive to the house. Tall shrubbery on either side lent the grounds a wild, forest-like appearance. Everywhere she glanced were trees and ferns and bushes of some kind. Looking up at the house, she could see it had several stories, with turrets and balconies in unexpected places. Stained glass was woven throughout the walls in all shapes and sizes. It was beautiful and old-fashioned.

"The lifemate of my twin brother, Gabriel, sent me most of the stained glass. She does incredible work. She is a great healer, and it shows in her work. Many of the pieces were wrought by Francesca and their young ward, Skyler. The patterns offer much protection for those inside the house." He said it quietly, matter-of-factly, as if offering up mundane conversation.

Jaxon realized that what he was telling her was far more important than it appeared on the surface. She took the hand he extended to her as she slipped out of the huge car. "I want you to know I'm not riding in that thing again. It's so wasteful, it's a sin. And if you don't know how to drive, I'm excellent at it."

The chauffeur cleared his throat, trying valiantly to hide his smile. "Excuse me, miss, you wouldn't be trying to cut into my livelihood, would you?"

She tilted her head to one side and studied the man with shrewd, assessing eyes. He moved like a boxer, his gait perfect. There were heavy muscles under his absurd uniform. Whatever this man was, he was no chauffeur.

"What's your name?" With that information, it should be easy enough to find out more about him.

He grinned at her, tipped his hat, and slid back into the car.

"Chicken," she whispered into the night. She looked up at Lucian standing as still as a statue. "And you. What am I going to do about you?"

"I was not the one in danger, angel. That was you" His hand crept around the nape of her neck, urging her up the stairs to the front entrance.

"It doesn't matter which one of us they were after, Lucian," she explained patiently. "You would have been the one they hit. I tried to move you out of the way, but you're immovable when you go all stubborn."

"There was no danger, Jaxon. They had abominable aim. It was rather desperate of their boss to send out three such incompetent hit men, don't you think?" He was standing close enough to her that she could feel the warmth of his skin, yet only his hand rested on the nape of her neck.

Jaxon heard herself laugh. The sound surprised her. He was acting, oh, so innocent. Nothing ruffled him, nothing disturbed him. His voice was unchanged, soft and beautiful, not responsible for any mischief-making or wrongdoing. He reached around her to pull open the heavy front door. Very briefly his hand rested on her shoulder; then he dropped it and moved away from her. "You are not ill this time. Do you enter my home of your own free will?" He asked the question seriously, his seductive voice melting her heart.

For some reason she hesitated, standing just outside. She could see the foyer, the marble entrance. It beckoned, drew her, a sanctuary. Why had he asked her so formally? Why didn't he just stay quiet and allow her to enter? Jaxon turned over his words in her mind. There was a formality, almost a ritual feeling, to them. Lucian remained silent, adding to her apprehension that there was something she wasn't comprehending.

Jaxon turned to face him, tilting her head to look up into his black eyes. Soulless. Lost. Alone. He stood tall and straight in complete stillness, his face in the shadows. "If I enter of my own free will, does that give you some kind of power over me?" She couldn't help sounding nervous.

He didn't laugh at her as she feared he might. He simply watched, unblinking, steady. Jaxon moistened her suddenly dry lips. "Answer me truthfully. Does it somehow bind us together or make it so I'm a prisoner here?"

"If you fear me so much, why would you think I would reveal the truth simply because you ask it of me?"

"I just know you would." She shrugged delicately. "I know things, and you don't lie to me. So tell me."

"I have already bound us together with the ritual words. You cannot leave me any more than I could leave you."

She blinked. "Ritual words?" Before he could reply, she shook her head. "Don't go there. I'm not going to get distracted. Will I be a prisoner?"

"As for being my prisoner here in this house, you are able to come and go as you please." She remained looking up at him. Lucian slowly smiled, his mischievous little-boy smile that would likely get him out of lots of trouble. "Unless, of course, there is danger to you."

"I can't wait to hear who determines what constitutes danger. You aren't making this easy for me. I have no idea why I'm allowing you to walk into my life and take it over. And, Lucian" - she smiled sweetly up at him - "I am not the same as you. Whatever you are, and I'm not ready to find out yet, your ritual words can't bind us. I make my own decisions in matters of relationships. Yes, I will enter your home of my own free will."

She stepped across the threshold and nearly panicked.

Something deep within her shifted and came alive. It was so strong, she almost turned around to run back outside, unable to identify what it was but certain her body, her heart, and her soul recognized this place, this man. Lucian's larger frame blocked the doorway. He caught at her small waist and simply held her, the strength in his arms enormous, yet he was so gentle he never could have hurt her. "What is it?"

"I don't know. I feel as if I'm not me anymore. As if somehow you're slowly taking me over. Are you doing that?" She didn't try to get free. She wasn't even certain she really wanted to be free Her large eyes searched his expression seriously.

"I would never want to take you over. You are exactly who you are supposed to be. We have spent so much time, each of us alone, it is strange, perhaps, to share so much together so soon. But we are lifemates, and we will adjust."

She leaned into him even as she turned to face the huge room. "I feel as if I belong here, as if I know this place."

"You do belong here. Go explore. If there is anything you wish to change, feel free to do so." He opened his arms, allowing her to step away from him.

The house was even more beautiful than Jaxon had remembered. She tried not to stare around her in complete awe. In her job as a police officer, she had certainly been in more than one mansion, but this was extraordinary. In a way it evoked an Old-World elegance, a forgotten time. There was even a ballroom with a parquet dance floor. Her favorite room was a massive library made cozy by a large fireplace with two comfortable chairs placed in front of it, an antique reading table between them. On three walls were floor-to-ceiling bookcases, a ladder on rails the only way to ascend to the top shelves. She saw every kind of book imaginable, from fiction to science, old to new. She noted that the books, some of them ancient, were in several languages. It was a virtual treasure trove. Jaxon felt she could spend a good portion of her life right in that room and be happy.

The house was far larger than she had imagined, even larger than it appeared from the outside. The kitchen alone was bigger than her entire apartment. Lucian glided up behind her so silently, she nearly jumped out of her skin. "It is not your apartment any longer. I told your landlady she could rent it out." He said it softly, proving he was still a silent shadow in her mind.

"You did not." Jaxon swung around, her hands on her hips, daring him to be telling her the truth. "Of course I did. You do not belong there. You never belonged there," he answered complacently.

"I know you wouldn't dare give away my apartment. They're not exactly easy to come by, especially on my salary." Jaxon stared up at him, trying to read his expression. "You couldn't have, Lucian." She was trying to convince herself as well as him. "Surely my landlady would have insisted on the lease being fulfilled."

He shrugged, not in the least perturbed. "She was willing to accept cash. I find in most cases it works quite well. Have you not had similar findings?"

"You really did it, didn't you? Oh, my God, I've got to call her. Where the heck are the telephones in this place? You can't just do that. You can't." She glared at him. "You don't even feel remorse. I'm looking at you, and I don't see one speck of remorse in you at all. You don't even feel it, do you?"

"I see no reason to experience such an emotion. You are in our home, where you belong. The elderly woman was more than satisfied with the cash for the lease and will be able to find a new renter immediately. It worked out quite well for everyone."

"Not for me. I need my own space, Lucian. I really do." Exasperated, she shook her head. What was the use? He didn't seem to understand what he had done.

"There is more than enough space here, is there not?" He looked puzzled, his black eyes seeking out every corner of the room. "There is much you have not even seen yet. The grounds are immense, and in many of the walls are secret passageways and other rooms. I am certain there is enough space for you right here." Just in case Jaxon should touch his mind, Lucian made certain his amusement was buried deeply. He continued to look innocent and straight-faced.

Jaxon shook her head and gave up. He was exasperating, and she was too tired to deal with him. She would work it out another day - phone her landlady and get her place back. Right now she was too tired and confused. Maybe she was hungry. She should be hungry, but every time she actually thought of food, she felt slightly sick. The refrigerator was intimidating. She stood in front of it. "When I was shot, was my stomach affected?"

For the first time she was aware of his hesitation. Jaxon felt her breath catch in her throat. "Why do you ask? Are you hurting?" His voice, strictly neutral, gave nothing away.

"I'm hungry, but the thought of food makes me feel nauseated. In fact, I can't remember eating or drinking anything since I woke up. Is something wrong with me, or am I being paranoid?"

"I can hear that fear in your voice again. The unknown. It is the worst fear of all, is it not?" He said it so softly, she shivered. Whatever he was about to reveal, she did not want to know.

Jaxon held up a hand and shook her head without looking at him. "I think I'll walk around outside. The grounds look beautiful. In any case, I need to know my way around." She went to move past him, attempting to duck under his arm.

Lucian's arm dropped down like a gate. He curved it around her and swept her up against him. "Do not fear the truth. It is different, but it is not evil."

She squared her shoulders. "Then tell me. Get it over with. Whatever needs to be said, just come out with it. I'm an adult, not the child you think me."

Lucian's body urged hers out of the kitchen and into his den. A wave of his hand produced dancing flames in the stone fireplace. She gasped aloud, enthralled by his magic yet frightened by it all the same. Jaxon broke away from him to stand in front of the flickering tongues of heat, needing the distance from him to think clearly. He was so tremendously powerful.

"I am a Carpathian male, as I have explained to you. We are a species that has existed from the beginning of time. I am not evil, angel face, but the darkness, the loss of color and emotion, that slowly overtakes our males who lack the light of their lifemates has grown strong in me for many centuries, making it a struggle to tame the predator inside us all. We are like the human race, yet not. We are blessed and cursed with enormous longevity, often called immortals. If and when we find a lifemate, the emotion is intense and grows steadily over the centuries. If we do not... we may become complete predators, the undead. The night is ours, and the sunlight is difficult to endure. But we have enormous powers, as you are beginning to understand. My blood now flows in your veins, angel. It has already affected your tolerance to sunlight, not to the extent of mine, yet it will be impossible for you to endure daylight without special sunglasses."

A heartbeat went by. One. Two. Jaxon took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "I can accept that." My blood flows in your veins. A transfusion? She wouldn't challenge that; she wouldn't ask. She didn't want to know how his blood had gotten into her veins.

"The sun will burn your skin. Sunblock will help, but not very much. You will have to learn to stay indoors during certain hours of the day, but your body will be sleepy during those hours anyway."

She heard the distinct thud of her own heart. Her fingers twisted nervously in the material of the cotton shirt she was wearing. "What are you saying? Do you think I've never read Dracula before? You're describing a vampire, aren't you?" Her chin was up defiantly; she was challenging him openly.

Lucian could see her courage in her battle with her fear. She was fragile, so vulnerable, with much to admire in her. And he wanted her. He was acutely aware they were alone. He watched the struggle within her, the way her instincts worked, trying to war with the ties with which he had bound them together.

"I have said I am not a vampire, and I am not. If the males of our species grow weary of the darkness that descend upon them after their youth and choose to lose or defile their souls, they become the undead. They are then wholly evil, killing their prey for the momentary rush of pleasure and power it brings, rather than feeding from them and leaving them unharmed. I lived as one, mimicking the ways of the undead, but I never killed for blood nor took the blood of a necessary kill. It would be impossible for you to become vampire from my blood. You of all people are wholly in the light."

Jaxon rubbed her aching temples. There was something wrong in the things he was saying. "Why can't I stand the thought of food, Lucian?"

"You are able to tolerate water and some natural vegetable and fruit juices. You must begin with vegetable broth and build your tolerance slowly. Do not try to eat meat products; they will not agree with you."

"Is that what you live on? Juices and broth?"

"Do not ask what you cannot yet face, my love," he said softly, his black gaze resting on the pulse beating so frantically in her throat.

She knew then. She didn't faint, although her entire body went weak, her legs rubbery. She would not faint. "Lucian, please move away from the door."

His mesmerizing gaze moved over her face like a caress. "Do you think to run away from me?" His voice was so soft and sensuous, it was all she could do not to run to him for comfort.

"That's exactly what I think. You told me I'm not a prisoner, and I've decided I want to leave." She tried not to sound defiant. She noticed his large frame still filled the doorway, and his body was as still as a mountain, his face expressionless. If only he didn't have that voice.

"Where would you go, Jaxon?"

She tilted her chin. "Where I go is none of your business." There was a long silence while he waited, unmoving, those black eyes watching her. Jaxon counted her own heartbeats. Sighing softly, she capitulated. "Barry's apartment. He won't be there, remember? The captain was moving him to a safe house."

"I think not. It would not be safe."

There was a double meaning behind those softly spoken words. Jaxon shivered, chilled despite the heat of the fire dancing behind her. "You said I could leave."

"I did not say run away. There will be truth between us, little one, whether it is difficult or not. You are a strong woman. I will not hide things from you."

"Am I supposed to thank you for that?" She raked a trembling hand through her hair, creating a windblown effect. "I don't want this."

"Yes, you do," Lucian replied as gently as ever.

Where his eyes had been black and impossible to fathom, she now glimpsed hunger, a stark possessiveness. Her hand moved to find the comforting butt of her gun. How could she ever resist those hungry eyes? "Why are you doing this? I have enough trouble in my life without your expecting me to accept vampires and God knows what else. I can't do it, Lucian."

"Yes, you can." He said it quietly. "Take a deep breath and relax. Sit down before you fall down."

Her dark eyes flashed at him. "Do you really think I'm so needy that I'd sell what little self-respect I have left just to be with someone? I feel the difference in my body. The way I can hear, the way I'm able to control the volume. I can see in the dark better than if it was daylight. I feel you all the time. With me. Needing me. Calling to me." She rubbed her temples again. "How can you talk to me without speaking? More importantly, how can I talk to you that way?"

"My blood flows in your veins, as yours flows in mine. We share the same heart and soul. Our minds seek to merge, just as our bodies cry out for each other."

"My body does not cry out for yours," she denied, more frightened than angry. "Little liar."

"Go back to the blood in the veins thing. Exactly how did your blood get into my veins and mine into yours? Did you give me a transfusion or something like...?" She trailed off, images of a dark, erotic dream intruding. Her hand went protectively to her throat. "You didn't drink my blood. God, tell me you didn't drink my blood. No, first tell me I didn't drink your blood." Now her legs were threatening to fail her. She actually looked at the floor, prepared to fall. Only the thought of being more vulnerable than she already was stopped her from collapsing.

He moved swiftly toward her to help, but Jaxon was so alarmed that she brought the gun up. She used a two-armed stance to try to steady her badly shaking hands. This was a nightmare, insanity. She didn't have enough imagination to make all this up. The gun pointed directly at his heart.

"Please move away from the door, Lucian. I don't want to hurt you. I really don't. I just want to get out of here so I can breathe again." She was pleading with him, not taking her usual command of a situation. She wanted so much to be with him. So much. He was tall and sexy and terribly alone, just as she was. She understood that in him. She wanted to make everything all right for him, to rid him of that terrible hunger. But to have a man like Lucian look at her for all time with heat and hunger, with need and possessiveness, was a dream she could never accept. Lucian was not really a man. He was something else. Something she didn't ever want to identify.

"Jaxon, put down the gun before you accidentally shoot someone." There was no inflection whatsoever in his voice.

"It wouldn't be an accident, Lucian. Please, I'm going to ask you one more time. Just step aside, and let me go."

"My people regard the human eating of flesh with the same repugnance as you regard our taking of blood for nourishment."

She took a tentative step, trying to shut out his words and the importance of what he was revealing. She circled to his right, hoping he would abandon his position. Lucian remained as still as the mountains. "Just imagining what you're trying to tell me makes me feel sick. I don't think we're compatible." She was in earnest now. If he didn't step aside, she was going to have to find a way around him. She wasn't going to shoot him. The thought of him hurt in any way was too much to bear.

Lucian moved so fast that he was a blur. Not even a blur. One moment he was standing in the doorway; the next moment he had the gun in his possession and his arms around her. "You only think it is repulsive, angel, because you do not yet know anything other than evil."

Being so close to him was dangerous. His body was hard and hot and needy. She felt an answering response right down to her toes. Her breathing betrayed her, her racing heart, her own body. She felt tears burning behind her eyes.

"Tell me you're controlling my reactions to you," she whispered, lifting her face so that she could examine his expressionless mask.

At once his harsh features softened, his steely strong arms locking her to him as gently as possible. "You know I am not. I have forced your compliance only on the occasions when I was healing you, binding you to me, and when you needed sleep. You are the other half of my soul. I cannot be apart from you, Jaxon. I am not making it up." His hand moved over her face with great tenderness. "Do you think I wish to cause you such distress? Look into my mind and see the truth. I want only your happiness. In truth, honey, I would gladly lay down my life if I knew you wished such a thing and would be happy without me, but it is not so." His mouth touched her forehead, her eyelids. "It is not so, little love. It is not so."

"You can't ask me to accept such a thing."

"I have no other choice. It is my way of life, Jaxon. I am Carpathian. I cannot change that. I would not want to change it." His mouth found hers, gently, his lips barely brushing the corner of hers. It started a tremor deep within her. "I survive on blood, my love, but I do not kill. I have dedicated my life to the preservation of both of our species."

"But, Lucian," she tried to protest.

"It is different, that is all. It is something unknown to you."

She buried her face against his chest. "You don't sleep in a coffin, do you?" It was meant as a joke but came out far more soberly than she'd intended.

Lucian chose his answer carefully. "In all the centuries of my existence, all the vampires I hunted and destroyed, I never actually found one who slept in a coffin. If anyone was going to try such an idea, I imagine the undead would do so first."

"That's one good thing." Jaxon was already pulling away from him, moving gingerly, as if by touching him she might become more infected with some strange disease. "I don't think I could ever get used to the coffin thing. Can you undo what you've done?" She tried to keep her voice neutral. She was very tired and wanted only to lie down somewhere and not think anymore about anything. "You can't, can you?"

"I would not want to if I could. I do not want to give you up." His hands fell to his side. "That is selfish of me, I know, but I cannot. It is not only for my own sake, Jaxon, but for yours - and for others."

She held up a hand and gave a faint smile "Overload, Lucian. I can't take in any more. Let's do something normal." Jaxon bit her lower lip, a small frown flitting across her face. "I don't know what normal people do, do you?"

His hands framed her face, his thumbs feathering over her satin-soft skin in a small caress. He had to touch her. He couldn't seem to stop himself. "You look tired, Jaxon. You should be resting."

"I was thinking we could go for a walk on your grounds. I'd like to look around outside."

"Scouting. Of course you would want to do that. It is so normal."

She found herself smiling. "Maybe you're right. After all, neither one of us knows what to do when we're not tracking some killer."

His smile was slow and sexy. "I did not say I did not have other, much more interesting things in mind to do."

Her breath caught in her throat. He could so easily get around her. It wasn't natural. He whispered to her in her mind, shared erotic images, and made her think things she never would have on her own. Jaxon shook her head.

"You are bad, Lucian. What am I going to do about you?"

"Be with me. Live with me. Learn to love me. Accept me as I am," his black-velvet voice whispered, and his words touched her in her deepest soul.

She reached out to take his hand, weaving her smaller fingers through his. "I think you should be outlawed. That voice of yours can get you almost anything." She had no real way to resist him. Not when he could say such things to her in his beautiful voice with such stark truth in his gaze.

He turned her hand over, bringing her palm to his lips. His black eyes were burning with possessiveness. "Does that include you?"

Jaxon found herself smiling. "I'm considering it. Walk with me."

"You wish to go outside?"

She shook her head. "There's a reason you're not so certain you want me to go outside. What's out there? I know it's not a coffin. I think we've pretty much covered that issue, and we're clear on it."

"No coffin," he acknowledged.

"So, what is it?" she demanded. "Out with it."

"Wolves." He said it straight-faced.

Jaxon snatched back her hand. "Give me back my gun. Wolves? I should have known. Of course you have wolves. Doesn't everybody?" She snapped her fingers. "The gun, Lucian. Hand it over. I've decided I have to shoot you after all. It's the only way to preserve my sanity."

His hands curved around her neck in mock threat. "I do not think I will ever give back that weapon of yours. It gives you hostile ideas."

She was very much aware of him as they moved together toward the back of the house. Why did his home have to be so perfect? Everything she had ever wanted?

Why did it make her feel so safe when she should have felt threatened by such a powerful and dangerous being as she knew Lucian to be? How could she simply accept his differences so calmly? Well, maybe not calmly, but she was accepting them.

Lucian enjoyed the way her mind worked. Jaxon was sometimes overwhelmed by the enormity of the information he had given her, but she didn't allow herself to panic. She took her time assimilating what she could and then gave her mind a small break before processing the next influx of information. She used humor to get herself through frightening situations. She never once condemned him out of hand.

Jaxon didn't know him. She did not understand what he really was. She had no real concept of what it had done to him to destroy others for centuries. That his bleak, dark world was so cold and shadowed, he would do anything to keep from going back there. He was a predator, had terrible darkness in him, and she was too much of the light to understand that each kill had taken a piece of his soul. Only Jaxon could make him whole.