Dark Guardian (11 page)

Lucian's fingers found the nape of her neck and began a slow, soothing massage. He was asking quite a bit of Jaxon to accept the things she had seen, the things he had told her. She hadn't closed her mind to the possibility of another humanlike species. She also hadn't closed her mind completely to the possibility that she might be going crazy or that he might be an enemy.

"I'm glad your wounds weren't as bad as I thought they might be, Barry," Jaxon said softly, meaning it.

"You told me in the warehouse to quit being such a wimp," Barry contradicted.

"I was only trying to get you moving, to get you out of there," she pointed out.

"Oh, sure," her partner said, winking at Lucian over her head. "Of course, the docs thought they were going to have to take my arm off," Barry informed her. "The first X-rays showed such shattered bones, the doctors said the inside of my arm was just mush and they couldn't possibly save it. But I was lucky. I woke up a few hours later, before they were taking me to the operating room, and they said some mix-up must have occurred. My shoulder was broken, but otherwise the bullet just passed through without doing much damage. No one could explain it, but I didn't mind. I figured it was a miracle, and I was willing to accept it."

Jaxon went still inside. She knew what had happened. Lucian had happened. He had healed Barry because Barry mattered to her. She knew it instinctively; she knew it without asking. And she didn't want to know, because it meant Lucian really could do the things he said he could. Deliberately, she didn't look at him. How much had Barry actually seen that night in the warehouse? Was there anything in his memories that might in some way harm Lucian? Or, worse, would Lucian decide there was something that could condemn him? She rubbed at her suddenly pounding temples.

"Barry," Lucian said softly, "Jaxon is becoming tired, and I still have to get her home tonight. I know the two of you want to catch up, but it is too early for her to wear herself out." He added a subtle mental "push" to his voice, creating a gentle command but one impossible to disobey.

Barry nodded immediately, leaning over to brush a kiss on top of her head. Jaxon actually felt the sudden stillness in Lucian. He was like a great jungle cat coiled and ready to strike, yet as motionless as a mountain. She found herself holding her breath for no reason at all.

Lucian was smiling with what appeared to be genuine warmth, shaking Barry's hand and walking with him to the door. Then, when Barry was gone, he turned to look at her. "You do not trust me."

"You sound as if that amuses you." Jaxon was tired of pretending. "I don't know you, Lucian, not at all. The truth is, I haven't spent a whole lot of time with other people. I've made it a habit to be alone. I'm not sure I'm comfortable being around a stranger who knows so much about me, when I know nothing about him."

"You are quite capable of reading my mind, angel. Merge your thoughts with mine. You will find out anything you might want to know."

She shook her head, determined not to get caught by the magic of his voice. "I want to go home to my own apartment and think about everything for a while."

The telephone chimed before he could respond. Jaxon was oddly grateful. She was uncertain if she wanted him to agree with her or protest. The thought of being separated from him brought a great heaviness to her heart. She picked up the phone, expecting her captain's voice.

"Jaxx, sweetheart? This is Daddy."

Tyler. His voice made her instantly sick inside. It brought back every detail of her life with this man. The terrible responsibility of her childhood, shielding her mother and brother, only to fail in the end. The guilt over the Andrews family losing their lives simply for giving her a home. And over Carol Taylor, whose only sin was that she liked to share a cup of coffee in the morning with Jaxon. Drake had called Jaxon one long-ago morning, telling her Carol was weak and useless, like Rebecca, playing on Jaxon's sense of compassion, the woman was nothing but a leech, a burden. Jaxon had known she would find Carol dead that morning, but she had dropped the phone and run to her apartment anyway.

Now she remained silent, her stomach churning, her hand automatically finding her gun while her eyes began to move restlessly, searching the windows. Could Drake see into the room? Did he have an angle? Drake was an expert marksman. Without thought she slid out of bed and placed herself between the window and Lucian. Lucian, without a word, simply swept her behind him, pinning her there with one strong arm.

"This man is trying to destroy our family, Jaxx," Drake's voice barked into the phone. "You can't allow him to do it. Tell him to go away. You don't know what men are like or what they want. You can't trust him." The voice was steely with authority.

Lucian took the phone out of her hand—an easy enough task, although she tried to hang on to it. "Come and get me, Drake." As always, his tone was soft, almost gentle. "I have no intention of giving her up. You have no hold over her anymore. Jaxon is under my protection, and your reign of terror is over. Turn yourself in. It is what you wish to do. You've wanted to do it for a long while."

Lucian heard Drake replace the phone in its cradle, cutting off their conversation.

Lucian turned to regard Jaxon with his black, steady gaze. There was no remorse, no fear, nothing at all but the burning blackness of his eyes and the hard, slightly cruel edge to his mouth. Jaxon felt pale and fragile. He looked solid, calm, an anchor, invincible. Very gently he reached out and touched her face. "Jaxon?"

"Why did you do that? Why did you challenge him that way?" Her voice was barely a whisper "You don't understand. I can't protect you from him. He will wait. A month, a year—it means nothing to him. Even if I never see you again, he'll come after you now. You don't know what you've done."

Jaxon was trembling visibly. She looked so lost, so forlorn, so young and vulnerable, Lucian felt his own heart twist with pain. He reached down, gathered her unresisting body into his arms, and sheltered her close to his heart. Lucian simply held her until the warmth of his body seeped into hers. Until her frantic heartbeat matched the calm, steady rhythm of his. Until the terrible churning in her stomach subsided.

How did he do it? Jaxon lay against his large, heavily muscled frame and allowed herself to rely on him for just a few more minutes. He made her feel as if everything would be all right as long as she was close to him. Lucian seemed to have the ability to project his complete confidence in himself to her.

Finally Jaxon pushed away from him, and he set her on her feet. "You've been setting yourself up as a target from the very first, haven't you? You claim you're my fiance and you've got all this money, so it makes you newsworthy. It's plastered all over the newspapers, isn't it? The handsome billionaire with the cop. I bet it's been quite a story. You knew Drake would read it and come after you."

He shrugged, completely unconcerned, those black eyes steady on her face. The movement of his broad shoulders was fluid and masculine, a ripple of casual strength that admitted she spoke the truth. "I have not had a way to track him until I knew more about him. With your memories, I had a place to start. Now he will make it much easier. If he does not turn himself in, he will be mad enough to make mistakes. He will show himself. He will not have his usual patience. He has lost control of you. Always, from the time you were a mere baby, Tyler Drake believed himself in control of your life. This has never happened to him before."

"He won't turn himself in," Jaxon said with complete conviction.

"Probably not," he agreed complacently. "Drake is unbalanced, and I was not able to connect with him."

"Why me? What was there about me that he fixated on?" Her enormous dark eyes moved over Lucian's face. "Why did
you
find me? Why did that… that
thing
come to your house when he so obviously wanted no part of you?" With sudden insight she backed a step away from him. "It was me, wasn't it? I drew him there somehow."

His smile held little humor, more an appreciation of her ability to reason things out. "You are far more adept than you realize, honey. Merging my mind with yours gave you more information than I had planned."

"Just tell me." She was almost holding her breath for his answer, but, just as she always knew when there was danger, she knew the truth.

Lucian sighed. "I know what you are thinking, Jaxon, but it is more complex than that. You are unique among your kind, a true psychic. Our species can convert only a true psychic from the human race; all others become deranged if conversion is tried. It is necessary for our males to find their lifemates. I have explained that to you. Vampires—those Carpathians who have chosen to lose their souls and cannot be redeemed—still seek to try. Still seek a lifemate, though it is too late for them. Your presence would draw them."

She closed her eyes. "The serial killer. That was a vampire?"

He nodded. "I found his kill just as your partner arrived. I was not certain who the killer was at the time. Vampires often use evil men in a variety of ways. Like Carpathians, the vampire cannot stand the light of day. Humans can accomplish certain tasks that vampires cannot, so they use them as puppets."

"They can force people to kill others? Is that what you mean?"

He nodded slowly, watching her carefully. She looked as if she might bolt at any moment. "Among other things, yes, they can program one of their puppets to kill." If it was possible for her to become any paler, she managed it.

Jaxon shook her head. "This is insanity. You know that, don't you? I can't believe I'm buying into all this. I don't even want to know any of it."

"You are doing fine, angel. I do not expect you to handle every detail at once. I have the permission of your doctors to take you home with me. I do not want to raise suspicion by waiting too long."

"I want to go to my home," she said stubbornly.

"You want to protect me."

"I want to get away from you." She avoided his eyes. She desperately needed to think. She needed to be away from him, away from the lure of his presence.

Lucian moved without seeming to do so, covering the distance between them in the blink of an eye. "No, you do not, Jaxon. I can read your mind. It is too late. He is going to come after me. And you still want to protect me."

"Yes, he is coming after you," she burst out, "and I'm not going to walk into a room and find you dead on the floor, your body mangled and bloodied. I can't go through that again. I won't. I mean it, Lucian."

His arms snaked around her easily, drawing her back into his embrace, calming her with a touch. "You are so beautiful, Jaxon. You amaze me the way you are so determined to give up your life for others. Come home with me where you will be safe and where we can get to know each other. Look at it this way: If Drake comes after me, at least you will be there to warn me."

She was falling under the enchantment of his sorcerer's black-velvet voice. Drowning in the depths of black sexy eyes. Mesmerized by the curve of his sensual mouth. "I have things at my apartment that really matter to me."

"Your mother's things." He said it softly. "I had them moved from your apartment. They are safe in your room in my home."

Her eyes flashed fire at him. "You had no right."

"I had every right. You are my lifemate, always in my care. I can do no other than see to your happiness. You are under my protection at all times. The things that are important to you are important to me."

"If that's true, why in the world did you provoke Drake?" Her fingers were twisting the material of his immaculate shirt nervously.

His hand covered hers, holding her palm flat against his heart. "I cannot leave such a man out there threatening your life. You would not leave such a threat to my life."

Jaxon sighed, a heavy weight pressing on her chest. "You're right, Lucian, I wouldn't. I have no choice now. I have to try to find him."

Lucian actually found himself smiling. He couldn't help himself. She was so determined that she was the one who had to take care of him. He shook his head, then bent to touch her hair with his lips.

Jaxon's heart skipped a beat. What was the use of arguing with him? She couldn't stay in the hospital. Every doctor and nurse she smiled at would be at risk. Who knew what went on in Drake's twisted mind? What did she have to lose? Besides, someone needed to find out who Lucian really was and what he wanted. And he wasn't going to die. She owed him—for saving Barry, if for nothing else. Neither she nor Barry ever would have made it out of the warehouse alive. She had to stay with Lucian as his bodyguard at least until Drake was found.

Lucian's hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her thick mop of blond hair. The strands were like silk. "You are worried for your partner's safety."

"Drake may strike at him. I've always worried about that. I used to change partners constantly until Barry came along. He refused to switch, and the captain listened to him, despite what a risk it was. Drake might be angry enough to hurt me through him."

"He has never tried to hurt you, angel," he said softly. "His motive has nothing to do with harming or punishing you. In his mind he is your savior—in a sense, your protector. You are his beloved daughter. That is how he thinks. All the rest of us are merely trying to separate the two of you."

"Even now, after all this time? How could he think that?"

His hand could not stay still, his fingers continually caressing her hair. Why he was so partial to that short, untamed mop was beyond him, but he decided it was something he didn't want to live without. She was essential to him. It amused him that she couldn't comprehend what he was: a Carpathian hunter with tremendous powers and knowledge. His skills went far beyond those of any human male. He could become a shadow, the mist itself. He was far stronger than any mortal, could read the wind, command the heavens. He could run like the wolf and fly like the birds of prey. He could control the thoughts of the humans around him, draw them to him with his voice, and entice their compliance in anything he might choose. He could destroy from a distance, even command his prey to destroy itself. He could track anyone or anything once set on the correct path Nothing could escape him—not the undead and certainly not human prey.