Jaxon pressed both hands against her stomach as she watched Lucian stride away. She felt sicker than ever. Close to Lucian, she could control the terrible feeling, but with him gone, it was growing stronger. She walked slowly through the familiar hallway, waved to a couple of people who greeted her from the bullpen, tried to reply when others patted her shoulder and murmured their sympathy.
There was a roaring in her ears, jackhammers pounding in her head. Resolutely she continued walking, but her desk felt as if it were a million miles away, her legs rubbery. The ability to hear so acutely was a terrible curse. Her fellow officers were all discussing the murders; on every floor she could hear the various conversations. She didn't want that - didn't want to know what people thought of her part in the carnage.
She admitted to herself that most of what she overheard was kind and sympathetic, but that didn't lessen the pain. And she had never sought pity from anyone. As she sat down, her stomach lurched again, and the feeling of evil nearly overwhelmed her. She was aware of eyes on her, unable to keep from staring. She wanted desperately to be alone, to weep and throw things, to scream, to sit on the floor in the bathroom, hugging the toilet, and be sick. Instead, she made herself spread her notes out on her desk. The pictures would come later. She couldn't face them now.
It wasn't easy being without Lucian. She had been with him nearly every moment since waking up from the warehouse disaster. Now, when she needed him most, needed his comfort, he had gone to save her friend. He was in danger because of her. She rubbed the heel of one hand against her throbbing head.
I am not in danger, angel. That is impossible. You should know that by now. Be still, and allow me to take away your headache. It's enough that I know you're there if I reach out to you.
And it was. Jaxon felt comforted, safe. She felt he was holding her in his strong arms.
Bring Barry back safely, Lucian. I still have that feeling, the one that means Drake's about to do something terrible
. Her stomach was a mess, clenching and knotting in outrage.
We are close to the safe house where the captain says he has Barry stashed. I am scanning the area around us continually, and all is not right. I feel the intrusion of evil, yet it is not the same as what you were feeling in the apartments.
Jaxon closed her eyes tightly, trying to shut out reality, if only for a moment. If Drake already knew where Barry was located, the chances were more than good that it was far too late to save him. She could only hope that Daryl had called ahead to warn the officers guarding Barry that Drake was on a killing spree and was stalking them.
She bent over her notes, trying to focus, trying to read the words, but the ink all seemed to run together. How was she going to generate a decent report if she couldn't even read her own work? It took several minutes before she realized she had tears in her eyes. Swearing silently to herself, she jumped up and began to make her way down the hall to the bathroom.
Every step she took only increased the terrible precognition of death. Small beads of sweat broke out on her forehead.
Lucian?
She reached for him desperately.
I am here.
His voice was tranquil and soft, more soothing than ever, a mesmerizing tool that instantly calmed her.
He's killing someone right now. I feel him. Please get to Barry. It is not Barry. Your captain is talking to Radcliff on the phone. We will be there in minutes. There is a presence, but I am not certain it is Drake. It does not feel the same as what is in your mind when you replay your memories. Similar, but different. Like in the apartment? No, not even that. We are here now. I will protect Barry from this monster.
With that last assurance Lucian broke off their merge.
She thought about that, the abruptness of his departure. He never did that, never separated from her as he had just done. He always did it slowly, almost reluctantly, his presence lingering so that she felt him, not always certain whether he was really gone or still a shadow remaining in her mind. This was different. He was completely gone, and she actually felt a loss. For the first time she knew what he meant when he talked about lifemates and their urgent need of each other.
With a sigh she pushed open the door to the bathroom. At once the feeling of darkness and evil overwhelmed her, and she doubled over, clutching her stomach, retching violently.
An arm curved around her waist, and Tom Anderson helped her into the bathroom and away from all the watchful eyes. "You'll be okay, Jaxx. Let's get you some water."
Tom had been a loyal member of her unit for a long time, so she let him help her, although she found it humiliating that he should see her this way. She had trained with these men, fought beside them, led them. She needed their respect if she was going to work with them. Splashing cold water on her face helped ease the gagging in her throat, but her stomach was in knots as tight as ever. The feeling persisted. Drake was busy this night. Barry? She couldn't bear it if Barry was killed.
"I'm sorry about all this," Tom said. "But Radcliff is tough. No one is going to get to him easily. Besides, they have guards all over the place."
"Thanks, Tom," she murmured softly and bent to take a drink of water. It hit her then. The feeling was far too strong for the distance between the stationhouse and where Barry was located.
She straightened up, pressing a hand to her stomach, turning to look over her shoulder at Tom. "He's here."
"What? Who? Who's here?"
"Drake is here. Somewhere in the building, in this building." She pushed past Tom and began to move swiftly down the hall toward her desk.
"Are you nuts? Jaxx, this is the police station. He's the most wanted man in these parts. Do you really think he's that stupid?" Tom was whispering, trying to protect her from her overactive imagination. He didn't blame her, but he didn't want anyone else to witness her breakdown.
Jaxon didn't answer him; what was the point? How could she explain? She just knew it. She knew things. She knew Drake was in the building, stalking more victims, people she worked with. Maybe stalking Tom himself. Her desk drawer contained a gun and a spare clip. She pocketed the clip and moved around Tom. "Just stay here in this room. He won't come in here where there're so many witnesses. He's probably targeted every one of you in my unit."
"Are you sure about this?" Tom was beginning to believe her. Jaxx might have gotten sick, but she was as steady as ever. There was that look in her eye, the one that always kept their butts out of trouble. "You think he's here?"
"I know he's here. You're in terrible danger, Tom. Stay here and call the others in our unit and warn them. Anyone in the building should come here. It will be safer if you're looking out for one another. I'm going to hunt him."
"Not alone, you're not." Tom was appalled. "Not only would the captain and Radcliff kick me to hell and back, but that fianc§٠of yours would be likely to break my neck. He's no one to mess with, Jaxon. He said to keep you safe."
"Shut up, Tom, and do what I said. This is Drake we're talking about, and no one else knows him like I do." She was halfway down the hall, heading for the stairs. Above her was the second story. It was night, and not too many officers would be on duty, but two homicide detectives, the vice squad, and several uniforms were roaming around up there. Below her, on the basement level, would be only two officers, maybe three, and perhaps a handful of prisoners waiting to be transferred to the overnight cages.
"You're not thinking straight, Jaxx. You're a cop. Be a cop. You can't round us all up and put us in a safe place while you hunt. Get organized."
Jaxon shoved an impatient but rock-steady hand through her hair. "You're right, Tom, thanks. I think I just wanted to face him."
"Let's do it right then."
Jaxon nodded and moved back down the hall to the phone. "Call them in then, use our code, and get everyone a radio." She tapped her foot as Tom did as she ordered, anxious to get moving. When the group was assembled, she looked them over carefully, ensuring Drake hadn't penetrated their forces. "We sweep the building. Tom, take them to the top. Look at everything, no matter how ridiculous. The air vents, under desks, anyplace he could fit. He's incredible at hiding out in the open without being detected. Each of you should have a number and count off regularly so that he can't join you. No one go off alone, and never forget he's a highly trained killer. You can't hesitate to kill him, because he won't hesitate to kill you. Start upstairs, and don't leave anything to chance. I'll keep in touch by radio. I'm going to the basement to see what's going on down there. Does anyone know the exact prisoner count?"
"A drunk driver, a couple of petty thieves, and we have Terry Stevens down there waiting for transport."
"And the officers?"
"Two - Kitter and Halibut," Tom replied.
"Let's do it then," Jaxon said. "Be careful. He's extremely dangerous."
"Take someone with you, Jaxx," Tom insisted.
"I'm just going to make sure everyone's all right down there. I'll get Kitter and Halibut to look with me." The basement was a maze of pipes, file cabinets, and the cages. Jaxon had a strong feeling about the basement. There was every possibility that Drake was upstairs, but she seriously doubted it. She was not going to allow one more friend to die simply because he worked with her or spoke with her.
This had started with her. She couldn't remember a time in her life she hadn't known Tyler Drake. He had been more of a constant in her life than even her own father or mother, yet that had become a destructive, twisted, obsessive force. Drake had killed her father to take his place in her life. Her mother and brother had been destroyed so he could have her to himself. She was the one who had to end his killing spree once and for all.
Jaxon dismissed the others from her mind as she started down the stairs. She moved silently, not allowing even her clothing to whisper of her presence. With each step her stomach tightened even more. She was on the right track. The lighting was dim on the stairs and worsened when she arrived at the bottom. It didn't matter. Her eyesight was now phenomenal.
Lucian?
She reached out to him before she really thought about it, before she even knew she was going to do it.
He was here, angel. We found two of the officers dead in their patrol car. They were stabbed several times.
She was silent for a moment, thinking about his revelation.
Are you positive it's Drake
? She couldn't be wrong. How could she be? Was it possible after all this time that she was losing whatever special sense had been granted her to detect when evil was close? Perhaps she was suffering the aftereffects of being in proximity to so many murders.
It feels the same as before, at the apartments. And their eyes are gone. The strange thing is, I cannot get his scent. I am unable to track him that way. I noticed it at the apartment building. There was nothing for me to trace. What happens when you scan? You always seem to know where everyone is. Several people are inside, but I cannot tell who they are. No one is conversing. A television is on. I am going inside. Be careful, Lucian. It's a trap. Drake wants you dead more than anyone else. Everyone else is nothing to him. It's all to get you. No one will see me, honey, if I do not wish it. Just be careful.
She allowed the mind merge to slowly slip away. The feeling in the pit of her stomach was as strong as ever. Something evil was lurking in this building, stalking her friends, and she had to believe it was Drake. Perhaps Drake had been at Barry's safe house already in an attempt to draw them away from the station.
Jaxon kept moving, her senses flaring out to locate the officers, the prisoners, and, with luck, the intruder. She became aware of movement around the corner from her position. Staying close to the wall, without a whisper of sound to betray her, she inched her way closer toward the slight brushing noise ahead of her. As she stepped forward, a lump on the ground to her right caught her eye. She paused. The terrible darkness was growing within her. Drake was here, and he had already killed.
Lucian? He is here.
She made her way to the dark bundle slumped across the floor. She could see that the man was dead, the uniform punctured with a dozen stab wounds. The head was at a peculiar angle. It was Halibut. His eyes were gone. Drake's trademark.
You are certain?
His voice was the same. Calm, tranquil, comforting in its soft steadiness.
Absolutely. I'm standing over a body right now. I can feel his presence. There is something wrong, love. He is here, also. There is the taint of power here. Can you feel it there? I'm not certain what you mean. It would be the same faint feeling of power you experienced when you sensed the ghoul's presence, and later the vampire. It was at the apartments, too. A trace is here, also. But I no longer think Drake is in either of these places. I think we are dealing with puppets programmed by a vampire, clones of Drake to carry out his deeds. I think any humans who have memories of you are the ones in danger.
Jaxon was on the move again. She didn't know Kitter very well, just to say hello in passing, and none of the prisoners knew her other than Terry Stevens. Stevens was a habitual criminal, a street dealer well connected with a great lawyer. If the intruder was in the basement, as she thought, and Lucian was right, it would be Stevens in the most danger. He had had many encounters with Jaxon.
You could be right. It does feel different, but it felt different at the apartment building too. Does that mean Drake is dead? What are we dealing with? Just get out of there. I will be there when I dispose of this one. I cannot leave these humans to face the danger this thing poses. I do not want you to face such a powerful being, either. I'm a police officer, Lucian. I don't run away because something gets dangerous. There are prisoners down here and another officer. I have to get them to safety. I have no time to argue, angel. The killer is striking as we speak. I am going to the aid of the human, and it would put you in danger if I forced your compliance. Stay merged with me at all times so I can give you any help you need.
Lucian's soft voice held more than his usual gentle command; it held a compulsion to force his will upon her, to ensure she would do as he said.
It was weird to be in two places at once. If she wished, she could "see" through Lucian's eyes as he glided silently through the building, unseen by humans. She watched two uniformed men pass right by him and not even notice he was there. He was a blur, really, using his ability to move with impossible speed. The door burst open for him with one blow from the flat of his palm. Lucian was facing a being that looked exactly like Tyler Drake.
Jaxon's breath caught in her throat.
It's him. That's Drake!
Drake's arm was on a downward swing, a bloody knife clutched in his fist. Lucian's mind placed a barrier between the knife and Drake's intended target. The knife fell harmlessly to the floor. Jaxon caught a brief glimpse of Barry Radcliff as Lucian glanced at him in passing.
Barry's hands were slashed, as if he had attempted to ward off the attack. There was a streak of crimson across his right biceps arid a spreading stain on the right side of his shirt.
Even as Lucian was leaping toward Drake, something distracted Jaxon - not a sound really, more a movement of air. She whirled around, bringing up her gun as she did so. Drake was almost on top her, his eyes gloating and mad. He had a knife in his hand. Jaxon could see the blood on it, the blood staining his hands. She fired three quick shots, straight at his heart, as she flung her body to one side, rolling under a desk and coming to her feet on the other side.
All three bullets had struck him in a small pattern over his heart. He seemed to hesitate and swayed for a moment, a sickly, taunting grin pasted on his face. Then he began to come toward her again. She fired off two more rounds, this time going for his forehead, dead center, afraid he was wearing a bulletproof vest. Two red holes blossomed in the middle of his forehead. Again he paused. Blood trickled down, then gushed in a steady stream, running down his face, into his eyes. But he continued to smile at her, his expression never changing, and he started toward her again.
"Kitter? You in here somewhere? It's Jaxon Montgomery. Halibut's dead. Drake killed him. Answer if you're alive," Jaxon called out. She was moving to keep furniture between Drake's advance and herself. She was trying to maneuver him away from the cages holding the prisoners.
"I've got you covered," Kitter yelled back. "Freeze, Drake! You take one more step toward her, and I'll blow you away."
Drake didn't act as if he heard. His eyes never wavered from Jaxon. He didn't blink or attempt to wipe the blood away. He kept moving forward. Kitter fired his weapon, the shots so close together they sounded simultaneous. He swore as he saw the back of Drake's head disintegrate but the man kept moving forward. "What the hell? Jaxx? What's going on?"
"Get the prisoners out of here, Kitter. Take Stevens out first. I think he's in more danger than the others. Go on, hurry up."
"He must be on something..." Kitter muttered, confused.
"Do what I say. Get the prisoners out." Jaxon gave the order in her no-nonsense voice, snapping Kitter back to the reality of their problem. It was easier to deal with moving the prisoners than with the impossibility of a man with half of his head blasted away, stalking another officer.
Lucian, tell me what to do.
She didn't dare try to "see" through Lucian's eyes. It was too distracting with two Drakes in two separate places. She was disoriented enough.
At once he was there. His breath was hers, slowing her breathing so that she was relaxed and in complete control. His heart regulated hers to a normal, steady pace. His warmth flooded her body with reassurance and complete faith.
Focus on him, angel. Look directly at him. He cannot harm you from a distance. Do not look away from him no matter what is happening. Remember, you are no longer human with human limitations. You are a Carpathian with all the abilities of a Carpathian. You can dissolve into mist if the need arises.
Jaxon was gliding with the same ease of the Carpathian people without really being aware of it. She moved quickly and silently, skimming around a file cabinet as the thing that was supposed to be Drake continued to stalk her. She kept her gaze fastened on the bloodstained abomination. She could feel Lucian pouring strength into her, filling her with confidence and power.
As she stared at Drake, flames began to dance along his skin, licking over his arms and shoulders, his chest, even his head, so that his hair smoldered and blackened. At once the air smelled of burned flesh. Horrified, Jaxon tried to turn away.
Stay calm, Jaxon. Stay focused. You must defeat this one. He is an instrument of the undead, and nothing will stop him from his appointed task.
She found she could not look away.
Lucian, please. I can't kill someone like this. The cry was wrenched from her deepest soul. Drake was not fighting back; he was merely howling in a high-pitched, steady, almost unearthly cry. The sound grated on her ears, tore at her heart. Drake continued coming toward her, each step fanning the flames higher until he was engulfed by them.
I know you cannot, my love. You are the light in my life. You are not killing him, Jaxon. I am destroying what is already dead. I am the dark angel of death and have been for over two thousand years. The responsibility is mine.
Jaxon couldn't look away from the gruesome sight. The hideous creature was burning yet still stalking her. Parts of him began to fall to the floor in ashes as the flames burned cleanly through him. She noticed the fire did not spread to the floor or to any of the shelves Drake banged into as he followed her around the basement. She was aware of the officers crowding down the stairway, yet they seemed unable to enter the room. She could hear them frantically trying to get to her to help.
Tears streamed down her face as she watched the blackened ruin of a man finally crumple into a heap of flames. Even on the ground the thing tried to reach her, extending itself toward her.
Lucian, please stop. It can't live now, she cried, desperately afraid she would never rid herself of the memory.
It must be totally destroyed, my love, or it will rise again and again to be used by its creator. I am sorry. I know this is difficult for you.
Jaxon could feel his deep regret for having to use her for such a distasteful thing - killing from a distance, employing her eyes - but he didn't relent, holding her in place until the creature was literally a pile of ashes. She slumped to the floor the moment he released her. Her hair was damp with sweat and clinging to her face. She was shaking. For a moment she closed her eyes, grateful that she could. How could Lucian have lived day after day, month after month, year after endless year, forced to endure such hideous torment? Her heart went out to him even as it went out to the creature he had destroyed.
Lucian, a shadow in her mind, allowed himself to take a breath, allowed his heart to beat. He should have known how Jaxon would react. With compassion for him. She thought of him and his bleak former life, not of what he had just done, destroying another and using her to do it. He concentrated on her, closed his eyes, and savored his own personal miracle.
Jaxon. She was a clean, fresh wind blowing the stench of death from his mind.
He turned his head slowly to once more look at the heap of ashes beside Barry Radcliff. Barry was still alive, a surprising testimony to his will to live. Ghouls rarely failed in their appointed tasks. Barry had fought the creature off long enough to give Lucian time to get there and destroy the creature. Lucian had slowed Barry's heart and lungs to prevent the officer from bleeding to death while he disposed of Drake's clone. Now he bent over the human.
Is he going to live for sure?
Lucian found himself smiling. Jaxon had no idea how quickly she was gaining strength. She touched his mind so easily, using their private, intimate channel as if she had always done so. She was becoming accepting of the changes in her body, the power she was gaining. She was a woman with tremendous control, and she utilized the special talents of the Carpathian people almost without realizing it.
There is no doubt. I have stopped the bleeding. The main problem will be damage control. Barry will only remember being attacked by Drake. I will plant it in his head that it was a copycat attempt. You must make it clear that the same occurred there. One of the officers shot the ghoul, puppet, clone whatever you want to call it. He nearly shot its head off. He saw me shoot it, too. Three times in the heart, twice in the forehead. Kitter hit it twice in the back of the head. He knows it didn't go down. Try to find him as quickly as possible. I will plant a story in the confusion. Things often look different than they are. And the ashes at both places? There will be ashes only at the police station. He will have escaped from here. The timetable is all wrong. That can be dealt with. They have to believe it was the same man who attacked at both places, and now he is dead. He doused himself with some chemical rather than be taken prisoner. When the ashes are examined, they will back up your story. I cannot come to you, as I must take Barry to the hospital and ensure that our timetable holds up, but I will be with you at all times.
Jaxon slowly got to her feet and made her way toward the stairs. She was so tired. The clamor of the officers trying to get to her made her realize that only a minute or so had passed, yet it seemed forever. An eternity. The door jammed on the stairs suddenly gave way, and policemen spilled down the stairs. She leaned against a wall and allowed them to surround her. Just the human company provided a measure of comfort.
She wanted to be held. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she felt Lucian's arms around her, holding her close to the warmth of his body. The illusion was so real, she stood perfectly still, savoring the feeling of being part of someone else. The men were touching her, checking to make certain she wasn't injured. She could hear them all talking to her at once, but it was just a blur of sound to her.
Tom Anderson shoved the others out of the way. "Give her some room. Jaxx, are you all right'?" He gave her arm a little shake. "What happened down here?"
Jaxx swallowed hard. The stench of burning flesh was offensive. "Hell happened down here, Tom. It wasn't Drake. Some copycat - I don't know. He looked like Drake, and his M.O. was close enough that he fooled me, but it wasn't Drake."
"Kitter said he shot him twice, blasted away the back of his head. He said you shot the guy at least three or four times, and he didn't go down."
Jaxon nodded. "Kitter did hit him. I'm sure of it. I saw blood. I rarely miss, but he just kept coming." She caught sight of Kitter and moved to stand directly in front of him, her wide, chocolate eyes capturing his. "He acted as if he was on drugs. Something powerful, didn't you think so?"
Lucian's power was flowing through her. Jaxon could feel him inside her mind, feel him taking control of Kitter. The officer nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "I don't see what else it could have been. I've seen some ugly things with perps on PCP. I hit him, but he didn't even blink."
Jaxon released the man's gaze. She felt the flood of information, the story passed through her to Kitter, and she was awed by Lucian's powers. He did it so smoothly, so efficiently, with seemingly little effort. For the first time she really allowed herself to think about that and what it meant.
There is no need to find new reasons to fear yourlifemate, honey.
His masculine amusement almost made her smile.
You already have plenty of reasons in your imagination. If I was going to turn vampire and prey upon the human race, I would have done so already. You are the light to my darkness. It is no longer possible for me to turn. You don't need to turn to prey upon the human race. You've been doing it for years. Centuries. You're always getting your way.
Jaxon immediately had the impression of a wolfish grin, a predator's flash of white teeth. She even heard him growl very low.
Show-off.
Resolutely she turned back to the problems confronting her. Her colleagues had examined the ashes and were crowding around her again, demanding answers.
She held up a hand for silence. "I don't know what happened. One minute he was coming at me with a knife in his hand and blood all over him, and the next we could hear you on the stairs. He said something, but I couldn't really understand it. I think it was something like no one was going to take him alive or words to that effect, but I'm not really sure. It all happened so fast. He had some kind of liquid he doused himself with, and, just like that, he set himself on fire. It was horrible. I thought about shooting him to end his misery. I think I'll hear him screaming for the rest of my life."
"Did you see this, though? There's no body - nothing left at all. Nothing but a pile of ashes. People don't burn like that. And there's no burn marks on the floors or anywhere else," Tom pointed out.
"He burned fast, too," Jaxon said. She shoved at her hair. "I want to go sit down somewhere. It's been a hell of a night. Has anyone heard from the captain yet?"
"Dispatch just called in and reported they received a message about fifteen minutes ago that Radcliff was attacked by some maniac. Radcliff fought him off, but they took him to the hospital. Two officers in a patrol car were killed on the scene. The perp got away. Could be the same as our boy. They thought it was Drake."
"Does anyone know how Barry's doing?" Jaxon asked anxiously. She was so tired she stumbled on the stairs, and Tom slipped an arm around her waist to help her.
"I'll call the hospital, Jaxx. You sit down before you fall down. You took a big chance going down there alone. And how did the door get jammed? We had to break it down. The thing's in pieces." Tom pointed it out to her to prove his point, then helped her to her desk. When she glanced with distaste at the notes spread out before her, he hastily gathered them up. She didn't need to look at the reminders of her dead neighbors and friends right now. "Let me get you a glass of water."
"Thanks, Tom. It's been one long night." She appreciated his thoughtfulness.
Tom handed Jaxon a glass of water and watched as she drank. He had always thought her beautiful, but now there was something more. She had a mysterious, ethereal quality to her. And her voice was so beautiful, he could listen to it forever. Her eyes were classic bedroom eyes. He had heard the description before, but he'd never really known what it meant until he looked into her eyes. She moved with a flowing grace, innocently sexy. He had a difficult time keeping his gaze from devouring her.
Jaxon flashed a smile, completely unaware of the havoc she was creating. Tom was watching her so closely, she was embarrassed. She ran her hands through her hair. "I look awful, I know. A complete mess."
She looked so vulnerable, he had the urge to gather her up and protect her for all time. Without meaning to do it, he settled his hands on her shoulders, intending to massage the tension from her. Before he could do so, a cold wind swept through the room, an icy draft of ominous warning. When Jaxon and Tom looked up, Lucian was looming over them.
At once Jaxon could barely breathe. There was something wild and untamed in him, something dark and dangerous in the depths of his black eyes. Not rage. Icy death. When he looked at Tom, Jaxon was suddenly afraid for the man and not really certain why. "Lucian?" She said his name softly, a whisper of inquiry.
Lucian didn't turn his head toward her, but he stepped close so that his body was firmly between hers and the police officer. He smiled, almost pleasantly, but it looked like the smile of a hunting wolf. "I do not believe we have met. I am Lucian Daratrazanoff, Jaxon's fianc§ٮ" He extended his hand, his black eyes fathomless, dark pools capable of mesmerizing. His voice was as soft and gentle as ever. "You must be Tom. Jaxon has spoken of you often. I appreciate your looking out for her." He stepped forward and whispered softly. Tom nodded several times, smiling in return.
Jaxon's heart was beating so hard, it terrified her. She couldn't fault Lucian's courtesy, yet his show of power, right out in the open, had rendered everyone in the squad room utterly silent. They were policeman, detectives, hardened cops used to dangerous situations, yet something about Lucian stopped them dead in their tracks. That frightened her. Had she escaped Drake, only to attach herself to someone worse? Lucian certainly had enough power to be worse. What was it in her that brought out the worst in men?
Nothing, angel. You are the perfect woman for me. I am a Carpathian male and cannot be anything other than what I am.
She was reaching up to try to comb her hair into some semblance of order, a nervous habit she couldn't help. She felt at a great disadvantage, looking so disheveled. Lucian caught her hand and carried it to the warmth of his mouth, his gaze suddenly centering solely and completely on her.
Do not, little love. You are beautiful just the way you are.
At once the ice in his black gaze heated to a black-velvet hunger, to a blatant love he didn't bother to hide from her. His touch was extraordinarily gentle as he drew her under the protection of his shoulder.
"Thank all of you for helping to look after Officer Montgomery and for trying to end this nightmare that refuses to leave her life. You are all very loyal to her, and I appreciate that, as I know she does. If there is ever anything we can do to repay such loyalty, please do not hesitate to tell us. Barry Radcliff will be moved to an undisclosed location as soon as they are finished with him in the emergency room. He is going to be fine. He put up quite a fight before we got there. Whoever attacked him must have heard us coming and run. He was gone before we had a chance to catch him."
He bent his head to brush a kiss on the top of Jaxon's head. "I am going to take Jaxon home. It is nearly dawn, and she is exhausted. She can return this evening to finish her report. The doctors have said it is imperative she rest, so I can do no other than to see that she obeys. I am sure your captain will understand."
There were a few derisive snorts over that. "Don't count on it," one of the detectives said. "He's never what you call understanding."
Lucian smiled appropriately, but his eyes had gone flat and cold when his gaze turned away from Jaxon and rested on the speaker. "He will have to be."
Harold Dawkins stared defiantly at Lucian. "Jaxon, I need to talk to you in private for just a minute. You understand, Mr. Daratrazanoff - police business."
Lucian shrugged casually, a small smile curving the edge of his mouth. Instead of softening the touch of cruelty there, however, the smile only served to make him look more imperious, more dangerous than ever. A warrior of old, untamed and savage.
Jaxon reluctantly left the shelter of Lucian's body to follow Dawkins across the room. "What is it, Harold? I'm exhausted, and if the captain doesn't understand that, too bad." Harold Dawkins had worked with her for several years. He was nearing retirement and always looked upon Jaxon as a daughter.
"Who is this guy? What do you know about him? He isn't even from this country. I think he's dangerous, Jaxx. It's in the way he moves, the way he holds himself. You don't see through all that European charm. He could take you off to some foreign land and hide you away where no one could ever help you. There's been too many cases of that kind of thing."
"Seriously, Harold, I don't think that's going to happen." Jaxon tried not to laugh as she patted the older man's arm affectionately. Lucian did rather look the type to secret her away in a harem. "I'm not some sweet victim who can't defend herself. As it is, Lucian thinks I'm a bit of a lunatic. He says I own an arsenal."
"I wish you'd listen to me, Jaxx. Don't rush into anything. Take some time before you commit yourself. This guy is..."
"My fianc§٬ Harold. He only looks scary. He's really a teddy bear," she lied. Lucian reminded her more of a huge wolf, lean and mean and highly intelligent. Except with her. He was always unfailingly gentle with her. She wanted to defend Lucian. He had saved Barry. He had protected the human race for centuries. But she couldn't say that, couldn't explain to Harry that Lucian had dedicated his life to the safety of others.
She turned back to Lucian, who immediately walked across the room to her side. He enveloped her small hand in his, bringing her palm to his chest to hold it over his heart as they walked out of the station house together.
