She put on her tennis shoes, strung field glasses around her neck, and found her favorite Browning. If it was Drake, he wasn’t going to get to Lucian. Jaxon glided silently from window to window, studying the surrounding grounds, taking care not to expose herself on the one side she knew could be seen from the distant bluff. She heard the lonely cry of a wolf, and a few moments later a second answered it, but it didn’t sound as if they were hunting or had been disturbed in any way.
Jaxon decided whatever it was could not make an assault on the house from the woods side without some warning from the wolves, so she concentrated on the courtyard and the front entrance. Outside the high wall she caught a brief glimpse of something moving. Not enough of a view to make an identification, but enough to be certain something was out there.
She made her way midway down the winding staircase where the balcony with the glass door was. She slid it noiselessly open and rolled out onto the deck, hidden from view behind the railing. At once the terrible precognition hit her fiercely, making her physically ill. She knew she was on the right track. Why hadn’t she called for backup? Because she couldn’t explain Lucian’s absence to anyone. And she couldn’t have the police department snooping around.
Cautiously she raised her head and surveyed the front of the estate. She lifted the field glasses to get a better view. At once she saw the arm and leg of what appeared to be a large male. He was moving along the wall of the estate and came into full view as she watched. Brought up close by the binoculars, he was a frightening sight. He looked like a giant, and his head was somewhat misshapen, almost like a bullet. His eyes were dull and life less, his teeth blackened and sharpened to ugly points, and his entire expression was the blank mask of insanity.
He slammed his palms repeatedly against the high stone wall, and each time sparks would explode and smoke would rise. He would scream and pull his palms away, only to move one step farther along the wall and try again, with the exact same results. The wall couldn’t possibly be electrified, yet it seemed that way, crackling with life every time the stranger attempted to touch it. He was persistent, not in the least deterred by the fact that he was being burned.
Jaxon stood up to climb onto the railing, wanting access to the roof. She was too short; her fingers missed by several inches. Irritated, she glared up at the eaves. There had to be a way up if she just took a minute to think about it. She didn’t want the strange person out of her sight. He was up to no good, and he gave her the creeps. As she turned, her body automatically adjusting her weight to keep centered, she glanced at the sky to judge the setting sun.
Too late she saw a spinning silver web coming at her from above, sparkling out of the clouds like a net to encase her. Fear slammed into her.
Lucian
! It was automatic, calling for him, reaching for him, almost a compulsion, certainly not a thought of her own. Except on her job, it was nothing she would ever do in her life—think to call another for aid. The strange glittering net stopped in midair, hovered there for a moment, and then dropped harmlessly to the ground below.
Jaxon felt her small body lifted by unseen hands to the safety of the balcony floor. She actually felt his hands around her waist. At once she was forced backward, the hands pushing her right into the house. The sliding door closed firmly and latched solidly. She placed both palms on the thick glass and peered below at the strange person resolutely testing the strength of the wall’s defenses. Instead of using his hands, he was now slamming his entire body against the hard surface, and sparks were flaring in the waning light all around him.
He looked up at her, his dead eyes meeting her gaze, and his actions became more frantic, battering his body even harder and more determinedly than ever. Jaxon could only stand there helplessly, locked in place, while far below her point of safety the scene of horror unfolded. As the sun sank, the stranger began emitting growls, digging at the earth beneath the fence and casting anxious glances skyward.
Her heart thudded as she saw the tall, elegant frame emerge from the heavy brush on the north side of the house. Lucian walked neither fast nor slow, his immaculate charcoal-gray jacket emphasizing the width of his shoulders. His hair was flowing around his shoulders, his eyes glittering in his still face. He stopped only feet from the gate and waved a hand. At once the sparks ceased, and the stranger realized there was no protection on the property. The gates began to swing open.
Jaxon’s attention was caught by the ominous appearance of dark clouds moving swiftly through the sky. Something was terribly wrong. She tried to open the door, afraid for Lucian, afraid he wouldn’t notice the danger from above when the creature on the ground was trudging toward him with such purposeful steps. She banged on the glass helplessly, tried to turn to run downstairs, but she was unable to move more than a couple of feet. Swallowing hard, she pulled out the Browning, praying Lucian hadn’t installed bulletproof glass.
In her mind she reached desperately for him.
Lucian, above you! Something’s coming, and it’s far more evil than what you’re facing now. Let me help you
! Nothing could happen to him. Nothing could ever happen to him.
She felt instant warmth, reassurance flowing into her mind. For a brief moment she even felt his arms around her, holding her close. Jaxon placed a hand on the glass, the Browning in her other fist, and watched the easy, fluid way Lucian walked. He moved with total confidence, total assurance, his head up, his long hair flowing behind him. He took her breath away. As she watched, his hand came up almost casually, and above him the black roiling clouds dispersed as if they had never been. Something dropped to earth, a twisted, writhing, reptilian body with wings.
“Oh, God,” Jaxon whispered aloud, all too afraid of what it was. She bit her lip hard in agitation.
The strange man had nearly reached Lucian, swinging a heavy spiked ball on the end of a chain. The ball whistled harmlessly through space as Lucian disappeared from Jaxon’s sight for a split second. When he reappeared, he was behind the huge stranger. She watched in horror as the stranger’s head tilted to one side, a crimson smile appearing around his throat like a necklace. The head wobbled grotesquely, then slowly slid off the shoulders, spraying a trail of red in all directions. The body toppled over and hit the ground as the head bounced and rolled away from Lucian’s legs.
The reptile sprang at Lucian so quickly it was a blur of claws and teeth. The tail lashed back and forth like a whip, and the beating wings were creating a windstorm, stirring up leaves and dirt like a smokescreen. Jaxon’s scream of warning caught in her throat, nearly choking her. Lucian seemed to stand completely motionless, his face expressionless, calm, even serene, as if he were simply admiring the view around him. Jaxon aimed the gun at the hideous lizard. The creature seemed to hit an invisible wall before it reached Lucian, and it shrieked as flames erupted all around it. Charred flesh peeled in layers from the lizard. The carcass split into pieces. Jaxon could hardly believe her eyes when a man emerged from the peeling flesh as if from a cocoon.
The vampire flew backward away from Lucian, while tree branches and rocks whistled through the air, aimed directly at him. Lucian flowed across the ground, going from stillness to motion with unbelievable speed. Jaxon felt she was watching a merciless predator, a killing machine, a jungle cat with rippling muscles to bring down its prey. At fast as the vampire retreated, throwing obstacles into his path, Lucian was faster. The debris never touched him, deflected with casual ease by his mind as Lucian overtook the undead.
At the realization it could not escape, the vampire turned its head and looked up at Jaxon, hatred in its eyes, cunning and malevolence on its face. The glass of the sliding door began to bulge inward toward her even as Lucian plunged his hand into the chest of the creature, extracting the pulsating heart. Jaxon leaped backward, away from the door, her gaze riveted on the scene below.
Lucian dropped the heart some distance from the writhing body and glanced toward the sky. At once clouds gathered overhead, mo
re and more of them coming to his bidding. Shocked, Jaxon watched him orchestrate the storm. Lightning arced from cloud to cloud in a brilliant display. He opened the hand that had extracted the heart, and a fiery ball dropped from the sky into his palm. For one moment the orange flames danced over his skin, reflected in his black eyes; then he tossed the ball onto the heart and waved his hand, spreading the flames.
Noxious black smoke rose into the sky. In it she could see images of death and darkness, violent, misshapen creatures hissing and crying out to the heavens. They slowly evaporated in the smoke, and the rising wind carried them away. Fire raced across the ground, leaping from one body to the other, incinerating the two creatures for all time, erasing all evidence of their existence, as if they had never been.
Jaxon watched as the glass door smoothed, as rain began to lash at the windows of the house, and outside Lucian raised his head and looked at her. Her heart thudded uncomfortably. At once she knew the barrier imprisoning her within the house was lifted. She lay the gun and binoculars on the top step and hurried down the winding staircase to the first floor.
Lucian terrified her—the power he wielded, the fact that he could destroy life so easily, that he could command the very heavens to do his bidding, that he could hold fire in his hand and not be harmed. Yet she wanted to touch him—no, she
needed
to touch him—to know he had not suffered one single scratch.
Lucian came striding into the house, tall and powerful and dangerous beyond her imagination. His face was expressionless, calm, as always in complete control. But something in the way he moved gave him away, and she faltered in her headlong rush toward him, coming to a halt just inside the living room. Lucian continued to move quickly, never breaking stride, flowing across the room like water, only his eyes alive with something she had never seen before.
“Lucian.” Her hand went defensively to her throat.
He didn’t respond, merely caught her fragile wrist in an unbreakable grip and continued walking down the hall, taking her with him to his den. As they entered, he waved a hand, and flames sprang to life in the rock fireplace. He turned in one motion, his fingers wrapping around her throat. He stepped toward her, locking her against the wall, trapping her with his taller, heavier frame.
Jaxon’s heart missed a beat, and she could only stare up at him with wide eyes. He suddenly looked like the dangerous predator he really was.
“You will never defy me like that again and place yourself in danger.” His voice was so soft she barely caught the words, yet she recognized the iron, the command in it. His black gaze moved over her face, brooding, possessive, gleaming with that extra unknown quality that made her heart pound in fear. Abruptly he lowered his mouth to hers, and her heart stopped completely.
The very earth rocked beneath her feet. She felt his immense strength in the fingers curled around her throat, felt the hard aggression of his body, and knew his sudden resolve. She should stop him—she had to stop him—yet his body was hot and heavy with need, and his hunger was swamping her, overwhelming her. She was going up in flames right there with his mouth fastened on hers and his hand threatening to choke the life out of her as punishment for her needing to protect him. Unable to think clearly, she made a small sound of protest, even as her body relaxed into his.
“Listen to me, little love.” He framed her face with his large hands, resting his forehead against hers. “You do not yet love me, I know. But you are a strong woman, and even facing the monster in me, your first thought was to see to my health. I am frightening to you only because you do not fully comprehend what I am.”
“You are my life, my only reason for existence, my heart and my soul, the very air I breathe. I have lived without joy for nearly two thousand years, and in the short time we have been together, you have made every one of those dark, endless minutes worth it. There is no way for you to fully comprehend the depth of my feelings for you at this time—I understand that—but you will have to try. You belong with me. I know this absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt. And my feelings will only grow stronger with the passage of time.”
His fingertips moved over her beloved face, found their way to her hair to tangle in the silky strands. “I need you completely, Jaxon, for all time. I need you safe and protected so that I never wake again with the knowledge that you have placed your life in danger. And you would, over and over. It is not defiance; it is in your nature to protect others. And when I say I need you completely, you must know that I need your body desperately.”
There was fear in her eyes, in the telltale pounding of her heart. “I’ve never been with anyone, Lucian, and you’re very overwhelming.” She bit her lower lip, not wanting to fail him, wanting to be there to take away the terrible hunger building in his eyes, in his body. She had almost wanted to see him a little bit out of control, yet now she could see where that would lead. Lucian was going to have her. She wanted him, yet she was afraid of the dark intensity within him. He seemed so tranquil, yet the fires smoldering beneath the surface were dark and deadly. She sensed them, knew she was unleashing something powerful she could never stop.
Lucian’s dark eyes searched hers, held her gaze. “Before I do this thing, before you are mine for all eternity, I want you to know that I know I can make you happy in this existence, that there is no other who can do so, and that I will move heaven and earth for you if that is what I need to do.”
His black gaze found and captured hers. She saw the terrible hunger so strong in him, so stark and raw and alive with desperate need. The sane part of her knew he was saying something important, something she should analyze before she dared succumb to the dark, beckoning fire, but it was too late. Her arms were already sliding around his neck, and she was giving up her mouth to the sheer domination of his. Heat and fire. A volcano of such need rising seemingly out of nowhere. His need, her need—she couldn’t tell the difference. Couldn’t tell where he began and she left off.
Lucian’s skin was hot and sensitive, far too sensitive to feel fabric brush against it. He needed Jaxon’s soft skin pressed close to him, not the annoying cloth barrier between them. Nothing would ever be between them again.
His resolve was complete, total. She would never again be in such danger. She belonged to him, had been made for him, his miracle, his to love and protect. She was more than his life. She was his soul.
He thought away his shirt—an easy accomplishment. But it was his hands that caught the hem of her blouse and lifted it slowly over her head. She was so beautiful, she took his breath away. It was his breathing that was out of control, his heart that was racing so quickly. Or was it hers? He couldn’t tell anymore. Only that she was hot, silken fire, and he needed to burn. Was already burning. His hands found their way to her skin. So soft. So perfect. The feel of her was almost more than he could bear. He had waited so long, never once believing she existed for him. He had existed in that black, endless void without hope, without the thought of light. Without the possibility of Jaxon. Was she real?
His mouth fastened on hers, hot and hard and hungry, sweeping her into another world where there was only Lucian and his hard muscles, the touch of his hands, the aggression of his body. He was everywhere, swamping her, in her mind, in her heart. His hands were touching her intimately, exploring every inch of her. His mouth was sheer magic, so that her world narrowed to pure feeling, so that there was no way to think, only to feel.
Lucian lifted her easily, his mouth still on hers, so that she had no real awareness of anything but him. There
was
nothing else for her, he knew. His mind removed the last barrier between them—the rest of their clothing—so that when he took her down to the oriental rug on the floor in front of the fireplace, he knew she felt the thick carpet against her already sensitized skin. He lifted his head to look at her, to watch the firelight caress her face. She was so beautiful, simply looking at her actually hurt at times.
Her large eyes were gazing at hi
m with an enticing invitation, sexy yet innocent in that she didn’t really know what she was agreeing to. His world. His woman. His true lifemate for all eternity. Deliberately he bent his head to find her soft mouth, to taste the silken heat so addicting to him. She was his. The reality of it was more than he could comprehend. Her skin was soft, felt like satin. The shape of her curves, the lines of her body, the perfectly proportioned form. She was a miracle to him, and he worshiped her leisurely. His mouth wandered over her throat, so vulnerable to one such as he. With others she was careful, yet with him she was so trusting.
He found the swell of her breast, heard her gasp as he indulged himself, as he lost himself and the world around him in her body. Her waist, so small, so perfectly designed, the triangle of tight blond curls below beckoning him. He inhaled her scented call, the wild, untamed need rising to match his own. His teeth nipped at her inner thigh, easing her legs apart, while his hand found moist heat, a welcoming to the hunger in his body.
Jaxon heard the soft sound escaping from her own throat as Lucian began a slow, intimate exploration, finding her every secret place. He took his time; he had learned patience over the centuries, and he had waited for this moment for so long, he intended her first time to be perfect for her. His mind was firmly merged with hers so she could feel his rising need, a tidal wave swamping him, hot lava pouring through his body where his blood had been. She could feel the painful ache, and the total pleasure he took in the erotic things he was doing to her body. She found his long hair, wrapped her fists in it to hold on to as her body began to wind tighter and tighter with need.
The world seemed to dissolve around her as little ripples of pleasure started deep inside her and spread until she was clutching at him for anchor. Lucian loomed over her, his shoulders wide, the muscles of his arms and back defined and taut from the effort to go slowly. He eased into her, inch by slow inch, until he met the thin barrier of resistance. She was so tight and hot, he was going up in flames. His hands caught her small hips. Even now, at this moment, with his body urging him to bury himself deep within her, with a roar in his ears and a red haze of desire in his mind, he realized just how small she was, how fragile she seemed in his hands.
Dark Guardian (Dark Series - book 9) Page 16
