Dark Guardian

Chapter Nine

The sun moved slowly across the sky. The house up on the hill remained silent, the beautiful stained-glass windows reflecting the rays of light back toward the sun. Inside it was hushed, quiet, the air itself stilled, as if the house were alive and waiting for something. As the sun began to sink, deep within the earth a single heart began to beat. Lucian scanned the area around his estate even as he opened the soil above them. AH was quiet. He floated from the earth back to the comfort of his sleeping chamber. He lay Jaxon on the bed, at the same time waving a hand to light the candles. The dancing flames lent soothing shadows and scented herbs to the room.
Lucian inspected Jaxon's body carefully to ensure that not one speck of soil remained, that she would awaken clean and refreshed. He sent himself seeking outside his body and into hers so that he could examine her internal organs and see for himself that she was completely healed. Only when he was satisfied that all was well did he release her from the sleep of Carpathians into the lighter sleep of mortals. He felt her take her first breath, heard the first beat of her heart. His hands went to her small waist beneath the thin silk of the shirt so that he could feel her soft satin skin.
He felt the instant surge of heat racing through his own body in answer, and he stretched lazily. She was with him. She would be with him at each rising. He pushed the shirt from her stomach and bent his head to taste her skin. His hands followed the sweet curve of her hips. He was becoming very familiar with her delicate bone structure, the lines of her body. Her skin was warming beneath his wandering hands and mouth. He moved lower still, wanting to taste her, wanting her to awaken to the erotic pleasure only he could provide for her.
She was hot, flowing honey, so soft he wanted to crawl inside her. He knew the moment she woke, the moment she was fully aware of him, of what he was doing, of the rising tidal wave of hunger rushing through her body like a fireball to match the molten lava racing through his.
Lucian! She cried out his name in the intimate way of their species, her body hot and restless and aching with need. Burning for him. She needed him. Needed what he was doing to her, needed the feel of him hot and hard and thick inside her, relieving the terrible building storm. Her body rippled with life, with such pleasure that she cried out his name again, her hands clutching at his hair to try to drag him up to her.
At once he blanketed her body with his own. Her entrance was a hot, creamy invitation to him. As he pressed against her, slipped inside her tight sheath, she gasped as her body reacted again and again, spiraling outward, contracting and gripping. Then he was driving into her, hard and fast, his hips riding her into a firestorm that kept building higher and higher.
Jaxon was clutching his arms, her face against his chest. She felt the beckoning heat of his skin, heard his heart beating, the inviting rhythm of his pulse. She nuzzled his chest almost helplessly. Her mouth moved over his skin. Her body clenched around his, making more demands. Her teeth nipped his chest right over his pulse. She felt it leap in response, felt him thicken even more within her, hard and heavy, his hips surging forward to bury himself even deeper. Her tongue swirled over his pulse. Once. Twice.
God, angel, do it. I need you like this.
His voice whispered in her mind, over her skin, sexy, low, pleading with aching need.
He was wild now, savage in his intensity, his body frantic for hers. All of hers. Her tongue swirled again, and he groaned, burying himself again and again in her fiery sheath.
Jaxon. Please. His hands cupped her small hips like a cradle so he could drive forward in long, hard strokes.
There was so much pleasure, Jaxon allowed it to wash over her, to consume her. His pulse was fascinating. She heard his husky cry, felt his mind merge solidly with hers, so she felt the white-hot lance of lightning whipping through him as her teeth sank deep and the essence of his power, his ancient lifeblood, flowed into her. She felt what her body was doing to his, the hot fire surrounding him, gripping him tightly. She felt the intensity of his pleasure, so deep, so real, his desire for it to last for all time.
Her tongue stroked across his chest, closing the tiny pinpricks, just as the muscles in his body tensed beneath her hands and her own body was fragmenting, taking his with hers. She heard her own voice, a sound in her throat, soft and husky. She tasted him, the terrible hunger in her sated as her body throbbed and burned, exploding into the night to become part of time and space.
Jaxon found herself looking up at him, her dark eyes wide with shock. She couldn't believe the things her body was capable of. She couldn't believe what she had just done so willingly. She wanted her body to reject the nourishment, but it savored it, the taste of him in her mouth, on her lips, like an addictive nectar. She pushed at the wall of his chest, determined to get away from him so she could think. His gaze smoldered, black velvet, dark and dangerous, moving slowly over her face. There was stark possessiveness in his eyes. Hunger. Dark desire. He bent his head to trace the soft column of her neck with his tongue. "I am not certain this rising will be long enough to sate my hunger. Again. I want you again."
"You can't possibly!" she gasped, but he was already stroking her body, keeping her restless and aching for his.
"We are not bound by any limitations," he whispered softly, seeking the creamy hollow of her throat. "I have much to teach you."
Hours later, Jaxon settled into a chair in Lucian's den. Her body was deliciously sore, still sensitive from his endless possession. He had been in turns gentle and tender and wild and untamed. Always looking at her with hungry eyes. Only when he realized she was exhausted did he carry her upstairs to the shower, where he washed her with far too caressing hands. Right now she wasn't certain she would ever be able to look at him again. Trying to be nonchalant, she shook out the newspaper and glanced rather idly at the different headlines. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Samuel Barnes died yesterday."
Lucian paused in the act of working on the computer. He had been doing his best to give her some space, accurately reading her mind. His Jaxon was shy with him even after the erotic hours they had spent together. One eyebrow shot up as he looked at her over his shoulder. "The banker?" His voice was strictly neutral.
"Yes, the banker, Mr. International Grab-all-the-Headlines Banker. He just died in his house. An employee found him and tried CPR but wasn't successful. I suspected he was a major player in the drug trafficking going on in our city, but I could never get anything solid on him."
"And he died how?"
Jaxon's enormous eyes regarded him steadily over the top of the newspaper. "They don't suspect foul play. There's no evidence of that." All at once her voice was suspicious. "You didn't know Barnes, did you?"
"Jaxon." He said her name softly, intimately, his voice wrapping her up in satin sheets, effectively stopping her heart. "You are not accusing me of anything, are you?"
She found herself blushing for no reason at all except the way he was looking at her. Lucian was synonymous with control. He might be deadly, but he was quiet about it. He never seemed to allow anything to affect him. Until he looked at her. She could see his terrible hunger smoldering just beneath the surface every time his dark gaze rested on her. He was so sexy, merely looking at him stole her breath. Right now wasn't the time to dwell too deeply on everything that had transpired between them. She felt she was doing fairly well, holding on to her sanity by her fingertips. She was effectively putting off facing the truth about what Lucian had done with his "conversion" and what she had done since then with him. Carpathian women must be sex maniacs, because the real Jaxon was definitely not. She shook her head, determined to stay on track. Would Lucian have known Barnes's connection with her? What was she thinking, anyway? How could Lucian possibly know about Barnes? She couldn't accuse him of anything. "No, of course not."
She watched him turn back to the computer screen. He seemed very intrigued by his work, although she had no clue what he was doing. Once she saw that he received e-mail from Gabriel, his twin. Two of them like this in the world!
That was a scary thought.
She went back to her reading. On the second page was a small article about a car going off a cliff. The occupant did not survive. She stiffened when she read the name. This was too much of a coincidence. "Lucian."
Instantly she had his full attention. She loved that about him, as if everything she said and did was of the utmost importance to him.
It is.
His voice whispered intimately in her mind, a caress of sound that brushed at her insides until she had to wrap her arms protectively around her stomach, where butterfly wings seemed to be fluttering endlessly.
Jaxon gave him her most intimidating glare. "You stay out of my head, weird one. I'm the only one who gets to read my thoughts." She frowned suddenly. "Can all you people read each other's thoughts?"
He shrugged, a casual rippling of his muscles that seemed to make her stomach somersault even more. "Yes and no. It isn't quite the same as with lifemates. There is a standard path of communication for our people, and more private ones are established if blood is exchanged. I can read Gabriel's mind and always could, but who would want to do so now? All he thinks about is Francesca. Well, Francesca and the girls. Skyler is their ward, a young teenager once badly abused. She is human, a psychic. And they have a little daughter now, not yet a year old. Gabriel guards her with good reason, but still, he has turned into a fussy old man."
Jaxon burst out laughing. "I can't imagine anyone looking like you acting like a fussy old man."
"I do not know how Francesca puts up with him." Lucian reveled in the fact that he actually experienced affection for his twin. It was not the memory of affection or wanting to feel affection, but actual deep emotion. Jaxon had done this to him. His Jaxon. His miracle. His gaze rested on her possessively. She was fast turning his world upside down.
Everything was different. Every time he looked at her, his heart melted around the edges, and he went soft and warm inside. He could watch her for all eternity and never tire of the sight. She had a dimple that appeared unexpectedly out of nowhere, then melted into her smile. Her eyes held laughter when she teased him. She
teased him. It was a miracle that anyone would dare to do so. She thought nothing of it, giving him as bad a time as possible at every opportunity. He loved the way she moved. She was small but perfectly proportioned. She was quiet and flowing, all grace and femininity, yet she thought she projected an image of toughness. Everything about her made him smile - everything, from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. Especially her sassy little mouth. He loved her mouth. Each time he looked at her, his body made instant, urgent demands. He reveled in that, in the hot, hard hunger one glance at her could produce.
A wadded-up newspaper came flying at him, and he picked it rather absently out of the air.
"Are you listening to me? I was just thinking how great it is that you hang on my every word, and now you sit there like a lump, staring off into space. Where are you?" Jaxon asked.
"You were not saying anything."
"I was, too." She was not above telling a small lie just to prove he wasn't listening. She looked at him indignantly.
He had been some distance from her, sitting at the computer, but now he was towering over her like some avenging angel. "You did not say a single word," he reiterated. He looked amused and tolerant. He looked like a lazy jungle cat stretching. He had that look that she knew was more dangerous to her than any other. He seemed to get around her defenses so easily. He turned her insides to molten lava and sent erotic images dancing in her head.
She sank back against the cushions and waved a hand at him to ward him off. "That speed thing you do has got to go."
He arched an eyebrow at her. She wanted to touch his beautiful face with her fingertip, trace each eyebrow and the shadow along his jaw. Very carefully Jaxon put her hands under her and sat on them, her eyes completely innocent. He had better not be reading her mind at that precise moment. She glared at him just in case he was reading her mind, to show him she meant business.
"You have such a way with words, honey."
She liked to watch his eyes. They could go from ice-cold obsidian to glittering jewels in a matter of seconds. "I do, don't I?" She looked pleased.
"I am not certain I meant it as a compliment," he pointed out with a grin.
"There was an accident reported in the paper." She changed the subject with a little sigh. "So you said."
"Another accident. A man drove his car over a cliff. The state police think he just drove straight off the road. There were no skids marks at all."
"And the significance of this is?" he prompted.
"The man worked for Barnes. It's just too much of a coincidence that they both died so suddenly. Maybe the drug cartel was annoyed with him over something. I'll have to do some digging around. If I could just know for sure you'd be safe from Drake while I went out to work..." She trailed off, looking up at the ceiling as if she would find her answers there.
A slow grin softened his mouth and added warmth to his eyes. "So, you are the one keeping me safe. I thank you, lifemate, that my safety is always such a top priority with you. It shows how important I am to you." He had successfully ended any chance of insubordination on her part over the issue of safety. If she worried about him now, he would simply bask in the knowledge.
"You would think that. You have a most annoying arrogance about you." She sniffed indignantly. She had to pull her hands out from under her bottom to snatch up the newspaper. "I simply don't want the publicity of some big shot like you getting murdered on my watch. I have my reputation to think about, you know."
"Speaking of reputations, who is Don Jacobson?"
She looked shocked. "How did you know about Don?"
"You were talking to him last evening on the phone, and this rising you were thinking of him."
"There really aren't any secrets from you, are there?" She didn't want to think about how often she had fantasized over Lucian. How right at this very moment she was thinking thoughts that brought a hint of color to her face.
Lucian wasn't about to be distracted. "Who is he?"
"I grew up with him in Florida. Before Drake goes on one of his killing sprees, he always returns to where it all started. It's some kind of ritualistic thing. He goes over the entire training course several times, camps out, almost as if he's playing hide and seek with the new recruits. No one has ever actually spotted him, and he's never killed anyone there, but he leaves signs to taunt them all with how superior he is."
"Florida is clear across the country."
"It doesn't matter. He always starts there. I was hoping maybe he was still there when I called Don. It was a long shot, but I had to try it. We might have caught him at an airport or stopped him in a car on his way here. No such luck. Drake has scouted your royal palace, just as you expected him to. Now I have to stick around and protect you from your own arrogance."
"I am very happy I am an arrogant man. It pleases me you have a reason to 'stick around and protect me.' " Lucian reached out and cupped her face in the palm of his hand with exquisite gentleness. "You did not answer to my full satisfaction who this man Don Jacobson is to you." His voice was very soft and intimate.
"I don't need to explain him." He was wreaking havoc with her insides, melting her like butter. Just looking at him made her feel weak and shaky. "It's getting hot in here," she complained. "You didn't turn on the heater, did you?"
"Carpathians can regulate their own body temperatures."
She nodded. "Of course they can. Why didn't I think of that?"
Lucian leaned into her so that the heat of his skin touched her through the thin material of her blouse. He swept back strands of her platinum hair. "You do feel a bit on the warm side." He was frowning as he checked her forehead. Touching her skin was addicting. The more he did it, the more he needed to do it. "Think about feeling cool, angel, and it will automatically be so."
She pushed at the wall of his chest. Who could think about cool when he was standing so close to her? "Get away from me, Lucian, and stop looking at me that way."
"How am I looking at you?"
"You know," she accused and deliberately caught up the rest of the newspaper. "Go away. If you touch me again, I'm going to break into a million pieces."
"I merely wish to kiss you," he murmured innocently, his voice velvet soft and deliberately seductive. He lowered his head to touch the pulse beating so frantically in her neck with the heat of his mouth. He felt it jump beneath his exploring tongue. His fingertips caressed her skin, pushing aside the thin ribbed cotton of her shirt to slide along her delicate collarbone. She felt like satin to him, unbelievably soft. At once need rose, sharp and urgent. He leaned his weight into her, forcing her smaller frame back into the couch. He cupped the fullness of one breast in the palm of his hand while his mouth took possession of hers.
He breathed her in, took her scent into his body. She was small beneath his wandering hands, so perfectly formed, a miracle of soft skin and silky hair. Even as his body made its demands and he felt her acceptance, her need and willingness to assuage his hunger, he sensed her exhaustion. She was still sore. He should have taken more care with her, as small and fragile and inexperienced as she was. He had been far too demanding of her. He knew better; he had been just that little bit out of control.
"I am sorry, honey. I should have been more careful of you." He kissed her temple, then stroked a hand through her silky hair. "I can heal you," he offered.
"You didn't hurt me, Lucian," she protested immediately, blushing at the thought of what he had done, the pleasure she had experienced. "I like the way my body feels."
As if I belonged to him . You do belong to me.
She loved that, the intimacy of his velvet voice whispering in her mind to her alone. Their secret world of heat and darkness. She would never be alone again. Never have to face the monsters in the world alone again. Jaxon knew she was looking up at him with stars in her eyes, and it irritated her. She looked away from him, pretending to find the newspaper more interesting.
Lucian laughed softly, a man's amusement at finding his woman shy after hours of making love. Jaxon's long lashes lifted for a moment to chastise him before she returned to her reading. Almost at once she spotted the next article, her body going ramrod stiff. "Listen to this, Lucian. James Atwater apparently shot himself in his own home. He left a note saying he couldn't live with himself anymore after taking so many lives at the direction of Samuel T. Barnes. He actually named Barnes. No way would Atwater suddenly have an attack of conscience. He isn't like that. This has to be a purge in the ranks. These guys must have made a mistake, and someone higher up the food chain ordered the hit. Whoever took them out did a good job to get the coroner to rule the deaths from natural causes, accident, and suicide. The reason I got on to Barnes in the first place was his association with Atwater. Atwater was a straight-up killer."
Lucian's hand tangled in her hair, running the strands between the pads of his thumb and index finger repeatedly. A series of small beeps sounded for a moment, then ceased. Jaxon found her pager on the coffee table. "It's the department, Lucian. I have to call in."
"We have not had that discussion yet," he said lazily, following her to the phone.
He walked so quietly, he gave her an eerie feeling. "What discussion?" She was punching in the numbers quickly from long habit.
"The one where you tell me you are going to quit the force and stay home with me."
"Oh, that one." She laughed "Don't count on it."
Lucian could hear the answer on the other end, the flurry of activity, then the captain's booming voice. At once he knew something was wrong. He moved close to Jaxon, his large frame protective against hers, his arms circling her waist. "What is it, Daryl? Just come out with it," she said softly.
Lucian could hear the words as if the man were in the room with them. Stark. Ugly. "I'm sending you an escort to take you and Daratrazanoff to meet us at your old apartment building. Drake struck again, Jaxx, and it's bad."
Lucian was in her mind, and he felt her go very still. Even the air around them stilled. Jaxon hunched into herself, trying to move away from him. Firmly Lucian locked his arms around her protectively, his grip unbreakable. He refused to allow her to escape him either physically or mentally.
I am with you, angel. We can face anything together .
"Tell me," Jaxon said softly into the phone, her fingers wrapping around the cord until her knuckles turned white, betraying her nervousness.
"Mrs. Kramer, Jaxx. Drake murdered her. And the couple in the apartment next to yours - Tom and Shelby Snyder. He killed them." The captain cleared his throat. "He also took out the old man in the apartment two doors down from you." They could hear his fingers snapping. "Come on, John, what's the old guy's name?"
"His name was Sid Anderson. He was seventy, and he wrote the most beautiful poetry I've ever read," Jaxon supplied softly "Carla and Jacob Roberts? What about them?" Her voice was a whisper. She could hear screaming inside her head, over and over, yet her voice sounded as calm as ever.
"We're looking for them now," Daryl Smith told her in a tight voice. "So far we haven't found them."
"They're alive then," Jaxon said. "Drake would never change his methods. He's very angry, and he's punishing me. The message is, get rid of Lucian or he'll take out everyone who ever mattered to me. Try Carla's mother. They go there often. Put them in a hotel or something. Drake will go after them for sure. He likes things finished. Thorough. I'll meet you at the apartment building."
"Wait for your escort."
I have my own personal security team. Tell him not to waste the manpower,
Lucian said in her mind.
"Lucian has good people, Daryl. Don't bother to send anyone over. We'll make it without trouble. Fifteen minutes."
"It isn't pretty, Jaxx."
"It never is." She slowly replaced the phone in the cradle and turned to lay her head against Lucian's chest. Closing her eyes, she stood quietly in his arms.
"Do not even entertain the notion that you should leave me, Jaxon. I feel your sorrow and fear in your mind. You believe if you leave me, he will stop. But it is not an option. It will never be an option. Drake is responsible for these crimes, not you."
"He won't stop, Lucian. As long as he knows I'm with you, he will keep on killing. Everyone I know is in danger because we're together."
He caught her chin firmly in his hand. "They are in danger because a sociopath is on the loose. It has nothing to do with you. He has fixated on you, but you are blameless. You cannot let this monster dictate your entire life. He's baiting a trap, not punishing you. I will find him. I promise you, I will find him."
Her large eyes searched his face for a long time. Tears shimmered in the depths, threatened to spill over, glistened on her long lashes. "He could kill a lot of people before we find him He's highly trained, Lucian, and he's cunning, very cunning. He blends in with his surroundings, he can wait for hours without moving just to get that one shot at his target. He doesn't know right from wrong He'll kill a child just as easily as a man or a woman."
"I will remove his presence from your life, Jaxon. That is my promise to you, and I always keep my promises." He took her elbow. "Come on, angel. The chauffeur has arrived."
"You sent for him that fast? No phone? Carrier pigeon perhaps?"
"He happened to be in the neighborhood."
"I'll just bet he did," Jaxon answered him, walking with him toward the door. Her feet felt like lead. She had seen Drake's work before, and each time, along with the horror of his latest crimes, the memory of the murders of her mother and brother was branded anew in her mind.
The limousine was waiting at the gates, the chauffeur standing by the open door. "Good evening, Jaxon, Lucian." The man tipped his hat, a slight smile on his face. That humor didn't reach his eyes. They were watchful, wary, compassionate.
"I think an introduction would be in order," Jaxon suggested dryly.
Lucian nodded. "This is Antonio. He is the son of Stefan and Marie. They are friends and family to one of ours, Aidan Savage, and his lifemate, Alexandria. Antonio has many special gifts."
Is he like you?
It was becoming easier to communicate in their intimate way, and she found it convenient when they weren't alone.
You mean, is he like us? No, Antonio is human, as are his parents. The members of his family have voluntarily served Aidan Savage for hundreds of years. Few humans are allowed to know of our existence, but they have done so throughout history, mother to daughter, father to son.
Jaxon held out her hand to Antonio. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Has Lucian explained to you who Tyler Drake is and just how dangerous he can be?"
Antonio winked at her. "Lucian is always explicit when he gives his orders."
"Just be careful." Jaxon slid into the car and was comforted when Lucian's large frame moved protectively in beside her. He felt solid and right.
Lucian curved his arm around her shoulders. "Do not waste your time worrying about Antonio. Your protective streak is growing."
I couldn't bear it if he was killed because of me. Antonio is highly skilled, angel, and he is under the protection of our people. No one will kill him easily.
Jaxon shook her head, fought back tears, and stared sightlessly out the window as the sleek car raced through the night toward death and hell. Her personal hell. Reading her thoughts, Lucian pulled her in close to him, his dark head bending over hers protectively, his mouth brushing the top of her head. She felt his love radiating out to her, enveloping her, filling her until the terrible pain threatening to overwhelm her lessened. She didn't understand how Lucian could do it, but she was grateful. She knew what she was going to see. She knew and cared about each one of Drake's victims.
I am with you. Stay connected to me.
She swallowed hard and nodded. The car was pulling up behind the squad units, detective cars, and the coroner's van. Even as she slipped from the car, the sickness hit her gut; she smelled the odor, the sickly sweet odor of death.
Breathe, angel. Listen to my heart, and let your body use mine to regulate your heart and lungs. You are never alone. We are in this together.
Jaxon nodded without looking at him, allowing her body to tune itself to his. It helped to take away the rolling in her stomach. Or maybe Lucian was doing something to prevent it. However it was done, it helped tremendously. She tried to stay toward the outside of the sidewalk, a small barrier between Lucian and the rest of the world, but he had other ideas. He swept her easily beneath the protection of his shoulder, his much larger frame squarely blocking her from the prying eyes of the gathering of reporters. Antonio took up a position on the other side of her, successfully sandwiching her between them.
She didn't protest, knowing it was useless. As they entered Mrs. Kramer's apartment, Captain Daryl Smith came out to meet them. "Jaxx, it's messy in there. You know his work better than the rest of us. Take a look around, and see what you can tell us."
Antonio had stopped at the door, not wanting to intrude on the crime scene. Jaxx pulled on gloves and gave Lucian one long look of anguish before turning to the task at hand. Lucian's watchful eyes never left her small figure. He saw it all through her eyes. Felt her emotions. These were her friends. These people mattered in her young life. He caught glimpses of memories she tried hard to suppress. Mrs. Kramer laughing when Jaxon slipped in the doorway, grabbed at the back of a chair, and landed on her bottom anyway. Jaxon, who was always so graceful. Mrs. Kramer had teased her about it often, holding it over her like friendly blackmail.
He wanted to wrap her up in the protection of his arms and take her for all time away from this place of death and misery. He wanted to erase every painful memory from her heart and mind. Jaxon said nothing at all. When others murmured things to her, she barely seemed to register that they had done so. She concentrated totally on the crime scene, careful not to miss the smallest detail. She went from room to room, a mask of professional detachment on her face, pale yet composed. Jaxon, the consummate cop and protector of people. His Jaxon.
He could read the thoughts of those around him, pick up the various conversations in every room, the halls, and even outside. Jaxon had the same ability now. She knew which of her colleagues feared to speak with her, which ones worried for their own families, which ones thought her a robot without emotion. It went on and on, the bombardment of sympathy and blame, blood, and death, from apartment to apartment.
The memories. Shelby Snyder baking her a birthday cake and bringing it over. Tom fixing her sink and banging his head, water spraying over his face as Shelby and Jaxon laughed at him. He took it good-naturedly, as he always did. Night after night with Sid, talking poetry because she couldn't sleep and neither could he. She had been so careful, never appearing in public with any of them, even sneaking into Sid's apartment at prearranged times. She had told Sid Anderson about her background.
He was the kind of man who inspired confidence. Sid's death was a terrible blow to her.
Lucian watched it all, felt her strength, her resolve, the weight of responsibility so heavy on her shoulders. His admiration for her grew. Her brain analyzed every piece of data. She didn't shirk from the grisly results of Drake's madness; these victims had been her friends, which made her all the more determined to catch him. She was physically ill, her stomach in knots, her head pounding, and he heard her screaming in her mind, yet her face was calm, and she never once turned away from examining the gory scenes.
Daryl Smith followed her over to Lucian as she moved out of the last apartment, removing another set of gloves. "So, what do you think, Jaxx?"
"He hit Mrs. Kramer first. He was waiting for her when she came in from shopping. The groceries are still sitting on her table. She always put her groceries away immediately. He entered through her bedroom window. It was locked, but Drake had no problem with it. He used his knife on her. It's his favorite weapon, up close and personal. I counted eighteen deep stab wounds and several shallower wounds. He took her eyes before he left. His standard trademark." She frowned. "It was him... but not exactly."
"What does that mean?" the captain asked.
Lucian was in her mind, and he felt her puzzlement. "I can't tell you exactly, but he's different. Still, it was definitely Drake. I think he went to Carla and Robert's apartment next and found they weren't home. Angry, he slashed up their bed in a killing rage. From Carla's apartment he went to Tom and Shelby's. He caught them in the shower together. He stabbed Tom fifty-eight times and Shelby at least eighty. There's a lump on Shelby's head. He probably hit her and knocked her out as he was killing Tom. His rage increased as he murdered them. I can tell because the stab wounds they received after they died are deeper and more savage. I believe the medical examiner will agree with me on that. He took their eyes and he carved up their bedroom. Clothes, blankets, mattress, even the carpet. He entered their apartment through the rear door. They hadn't locked it. It looks as if he just walked right in with no problem."
Jaxon suddenly reached out to Lucian, the first public gesture she had made toward him. She was exhausted without hesitation his fingers laced, warm and solid, through hers. And he was right. She didn't feel alone anymore.
I am responsible for so many deaths, Lucian. I feel as if my soul is black . You are not responsible. Hear me when I say this, Jaxon. Tyler Drake murders people because he is a sick man, not because of you. If it was not you he had fixated on, it would be another.
Her mouth curved in a semblance of a smile that never had a chance of reaching her eyes.
You're sure of that? You don't know what it's like to know that people you care about are dead because the only crime they committed was being your neighbor. Lucian, I don't want this to touch you . I have been judge and executioner for nearly two thousand years. I have destroyed so many I cannot count that high, nor would I want to. I am a predator, honey.
You are a sweet, compassionate angel. A miracle. My miracle . Thank you.
She said it simply, meaning it.
I love you, angel,
Lucian said in his black-velvet sorcerer's voice, and he meant it.
A ghost of a smile touched her mouth before she resumed her assessment for her boss. "Drake went to kill Sid after that. There's a smear of blood in the hall beside Sid's door. I'll be willing to bet it's Shelby's. Blood never bothers Drake. Sid answered the door. He never looked through the peephole, although I cautioned him numerous times. He was a wonderful man. He trusted everyone. He played with children in the park, taught them chess, spent half his monthly check on food for the kids in the neighborhood. He gave them things to do and a place to go when their parents weren't home or when there was trouble. He didn't deserve what Drake did to him."
Lucian felt her falter then. She crumbled inside, her silent screams louder than ever. On the outside she appeared calm, but she was sick, fighting back the nausea gripping her. Immediately he wrapped his arms around her, turning her against his chest. His heart matched the exact rhythm of hers.
You are not alone, never alone. Drake can never separate us. You can reach for me over time and space, and I will be with you . I can't bear this. Sid was so sweet. You would've liked him. Tom and Shelby were nice people. They had no children, and they treated me like a daughter. Their only sin was that they liked me. And you met Mrs. Kramer. There was no one nicer. This is all because of me. If I hadn't gone to your house, let them publish our engagement in the newspapers, Drake wouldn't have done this. Drake is totally responsible, honey, not you.
He was patient, repeating it over and over, wanting his words to sink in.
He'll get to you. He will. You and Barry.
She stiffened, her eyes suddenly wide with terror. "He's going after Barry, Captain. Drake will do it - I know he will. He'll access your computers, torture someone, I don't know how, but he's going to go after Barry. Drake's different now. I can't explain it - I just feel it. Something's wrong with all of this. In the past he always killed because he perceived others as a threat to his family. This was rage. This was because he wanted to kill. Part of him was Drake, because he performed like Drake, he took their eyes, but he wasn't exactly the same. He doesn't kill with this kind of rage. He's different." She shook her head. "I have to get to Barry. He isn't safe."
"No one knows where we stashed Radcliff," Daryl protested. "I want you to go to the station and write up your report. Every detail. We need it, Jaxx."
"Someone knows where he is. There's a paper trail. There's always a paper trail. You think he can't find Barry? It's what he does. I'm going to him." She was absolutely firm.
"He can't find him," the captain reiterated.
"I could find Barry," Jaxon said confidently. "Lucian, we have to protect him."
"You go back to the station, Jaxon," Lucian said softly, his voice as mild as ever. That voice that no one could ever resist. "I will go with Captain Smith to get Barry and bring him to safety. Antonio will go, also, so there is no need to worry about protecting me. I will keep him safe, Jaxon." The black-velvet voice was gentle. "You will be safe at the station, and I will concentrate on picking up Drake's trail."
She clung to his hand, knowing he was right, but afraid it was just what Drake wanted. Afraid Drake was using the threat to Barry as a trap to lure Lucian out into the open. She felt so sick inside. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you, Lucian."
He brought her hand to the warmth of his mouth. "Nothing can harm me, angel. Go to the station where it is safe, and allow me to do this small thing for you."
"Drake is different, Lucian. I don't know how, but it changes everything and makes him much more unpredictable. He is a monster, a true monster, with every skill of our best fighters and all the cunning of a wild animal. Our engagement must have driven him over the edge."
"He was already over the edge," Lucian said quietly, deliberately allowing his voice to drop an octave so that it soothed and calmed her. He walked with her to the squad car. "I will stay with you until I see that you are safe within the station house where no one can harm you. Then we will go to Barry."
"You have to hurry, Lucian. Drake could be stalking him right now." She was anxious, but his voice held that strange, mesmerizing effect that made her feel as if everything would be all right.
Daryl Smith cleared his throat, determined to protest. He had allowed Lucian Daratrazanoff onto the crime scene because Jaxx clearly needed him there, but that he be allowed into the middle of a police crisis was going too far. But there was something dangerous about Lucian, something powerful, and it wasn't his money. The eyes were too watchful, the face too still. Smith was frankly wary of denying the man anything.
Daratrazanoff turned his head toward the captain, almost as if reading his thoughts. "Of course you want Antonio and me to come along with you." He spoke quietly, his voice so low Smith barely heard him, yet the words penetrated to his deepest soul. He needed Daratrazanoff with them. It was imperative that he be there.
"Yes, of course, Mr. Daratrazanoff," the captain invited.
"Please call me Lucian," he replied almost absently. His full attention was once more directed at Jaxon, the only person who really mattered to him.
Lucian held the door open for her. He had deliberately chosen to escort her to a car whose driver had been particularly sympathetic in his conversation with some of the other officers. It was a small thing, but she did not need to feel uncomfortable with one of her peers who was secretly afraid to be seen in public with her or who held her accountable for Tyler Drake's actions.
Jaxon kept her head up, her face a blank mask. The flashes from news cameras were going off in all directions. She didn't look at any of them as she slipped into the car.
Antonio and Lucian got in on either side of her, effectively walling her in, protecting her from prying eyes. She stayed close to Lucian, to the warmth of his body, to the warmth of his heart.
We will find him, honey. But we can never bring them back, can we?
Tears filled her voice, her mind, her heart.
Lucian wanted to weep for her. She didn't deserve this. She was so young and compassionate, totally the opposite of what he was. Monsters didn't come after him; they wanted her. Human and Carpathian alike, they wanted Jaxon. He hadn't elaborated on the story of vampires, because she had enough guilt weighing her down. But vampires were once Carpathian males who had chosen to lose their souls after centuries of bleak hopelessness. And just as the Carpathian male searched for a lifemate, vampires searched the ranks of humankind for women just like Jaxon. Her presence in the area attracted them.
Vampires were solitary creatures for the most part, trusting no one, vain, cunning, and evil. They were incapable of loyalty, though sometimes they banded together in the hopes of eluding or even destroying a hunter in the area. Other times a master vampire, one ancient and skilled who had survived as the undead for centuries, took on as apprentices the newer, younger vampires just turned. They used them for menial labor, as pawns to sacrifice, as a front line to achieve their ultimate goals. Jaxon had attracted more than one vampire to the area by her presence alone.
Lucian had hunted and destroyed three such vampires the humans had mistaken as serial killers before he had made his claim on Jaxon. He had established his home, watching her, reading her likes and dislikes, finding out all he could about her before he approached her. If she knew vampires were coming to her city because of her, she would be capable of terminating her life to protect others. He could not allow such a thing. If she knew the whole truth, she would suffer even more than she was suffering at present, and he could do no other than protect her. He was her lifemate and responsible for her happiness, health, and complete safety.
Lucian and Antonio escorted her up the stairs to the police station, opening the door and waiting until she was inside. "Remain indoors with all these officers until I return with Barry," Lucian said. "And this time, angel, I expect you to do as I say. I will not be pleased if I come back to find you have left the safety of this building."
"I won't," she assured him, clinging to his hand. "Just be certain nothing happens to you. Or Barry. Bring him back, Lucian."
"I will." He bent his head to hers, his mouth finding hers with incredible tenderness "I will return quickly."