Dark Guardian (12 page)

To Lucian, Tyler Drake was as good as dead. The man had murdered everyone who ever meant anything to Jaxon. There was no rage in Lucian, only that quiet stillness that was forever a part of him. He was justice for his people, the executor of their law. Yet even before his Prince, before his own life, before that of his twin brother and his people, he held dear the life and happiness of Jaxon Montgomery. Tyler Drake was condemned and had little time left to live.

"It is time to go home, Jaxon," he murmured softly, aware of the evening giving way to night. He had fed well. He would eventually have to reveal much to her that she would find hard to accept. She was courageous and accepting, her mind open to the possibilities of other life forms. But she was not ready to accept them in proximity to her own life.

He could read in her mind how torn she was. He could read the sorrow in her, the guilt. He could read determination that she guard not only him, but Barry Radcliff as well. With a little sigh, he gathered her up.

Getting through the red tape of leaving the hospital should have been one of those nightmares Jaxon couldn't stand—she had little patience with paperwork—yet somehow Lucian managed it all smoothly. The entourage of hospital personnel and reporters seemed to grow as she was taken down to the hospital entrance. She glared at Lucian a few times, but he pretended not to notice. He seemed very much in his element, old friends with various reporters; even her captain joined the crowd, wanting to shake his hand. She noticed the captain hadn't rushed to
her
side; likely he was too busy looking at a possible campaign donation when he decided to run for mayor.

That is not very nice
. There was that laughter again, the one that sent flames dancing over her skin and started a fire in the middle of her stomach. She glanced around to make certain no one was watching her too closely as a faint blush crept up into her face.

I can't believe these people are falling all over you. It's disgusting
, she told him silently. It was probably his voice. Or his eyes. Or maybe his looks that drew them. And then there was his perfect mouth.

He leaned down to place that perfect mouth against her ear, deliberately, in front of all the cameras, his hand cupping the nape of her neck possessively. "It is all the money, honey. No other reason, simply money. Only you see me as sexy and handsome."

"I never said
sexy
. And I know I didn't say
handsome
," she hissed in return. She wasn't adding to his oversized ego by pointing out all the women who were talking about him. He had to have heard them. She could hear them. She ducked her head. Lucian really didn't seem to be aware of his looks as anything special. He wore his attractiveness the way he wore his air of confidence, of authority, as if it were merely a part of him and always had been.

A huge white limousine was parked in front of the hospital. A chauffeur stood at the door waiting. Jaxon closed her eyes. This was so absurd, such nonsense. She did not belong in a limousine. Whatever kind of life Lucian had, Jaxon could not possibly fit in.

Knowledge hit her without warning as she was reluctantly walking beneath Lucian's shoulder toward the chauffeur. The feeling came out of nowhere. Dark. Ugly. Intense. It was dark now, the light leeched from the sky to be replaced by night. Clouds covered the moon, and a slight drizzle was misting the streets. There was laughter all around, talk, hundreds of voices, yet all at once she was alone again in the middle of a war zone.

Automatically she darted out from beneath Lucian's arm, shoving his large frame away from her to put more distance between them. She already had her gun drawn, and her eyes were tracking, moving, looking for a target. It was there. It was close. This was the nightmare of every cop. A large crowd and an assassin.

Chapter Four

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He is on loan."

"I noticed he didn't hit the ground for cover. He dropped into a crouch and was fishing in his jacket for something. What do you think it was?" Jaxon opened her eyes and studied Lucian's shadowed jaw. Without conscious thought her fingers crept up to touch his chin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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