Dark Guardian (16 page)

Barnes frowned and rubbed his temples.

Lucian's white teeth flashed. "Good-bye, Mr. Barnes."

Bruce was waiting just outside the door. "Please follow me, Mr. Daratrazanoff. I'll show you out. I trust everything went well."

Lucian put a friendly hand on the man's shoulder. "Please show me to the pool room. That would make me very happy."

Bruce blinked rapidly several times. "Of course, sir. This way."

As they descended the long stairs, they heard a faint noise from the upstairs sitting room. A strangling, a gasping, and then a thud, as if someone had fallen to the floor. Bruce turned quickly. Lucian merely smiled. "You will not go to his aid, because I do not wish it. Take me to the pool room."

Bruce nodded and led the way down the hall to a set of double doors.

Lucian waved a hand, and the doors opened wide. The two men looked up from their game, both putting their hands on the weapons in their shoulder holsters. They relaxed visibly when they saw Bruce.

Lucian walked directly up to the first man. "I want you to get into your car and drive very carefully, obeying all traffic rules, until you come to the entrance to the cliff road. You will go up that road and drive straight off it. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"You will do so immediately."

Without replying, the man picked up his jacket and car keys and left the room.

Lucian turned to the second man. "You have killed many times."

"Yes, sir."

"You feel bad about that, do you not? It is a very difficult thing to live with, the taking of innocent lives. I have never done so in all the long centuries of my existence. Those I have condemned to death have always been murderers such as yourself. You are evil. You know that you are, and you no longer wish to continue your pitiful existence. Go to your residence, and end the misery you bring to others. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." The second man picked up his jacket and left the room without a backward glance.

Lucian studied Bruce. "You have not killed."

"No, sir."

"Why would you work for such a man as Barnes?"

"When I was fifteen I got involved in a car-theft ring. I served time, and once I was out, no one but Mr. Barnes would give me a job."

"You do not like Barnes or the things he does."

Bruce couldn't look away from those mesmerizing eyes. In any case, the sound of that voice demanded the truth. "He disgusts me. He'd murder his own mother for money. I have a wife to support. We're expecting twins any day now. I have to make enough money for them to live, and no one is going to hire a felon."

"You will go home and stay there for a few days thinking about your future. You will get rid of the gun, tell your wife you are getting a legitimate job, and you will call this number. The man there will interview you and give you honest work. Do you understand me? You will remember nothing of my presence in this house, and you will not remember that Miss Montgomery and her partner were ever on a hit list."

Bruce took the small piece of paper, folded it carefully, and slipped it into his jacket pocket. When he looked up, he was alone in the pool room, and he couldn't remember why he had gone there. He was sick of his job, sick of Barnes. Mary was due any day now. She hated his working for Barnes and begged him all the time to quit. Maybe now was the time. Maybe he should just quit and think things over while they waited for the babies to be born. There had to be something better out there for him. Something legitimate. Bruce went upstairs to tell Barnes he was finished. He found him on the floor, his features gray, tinged with blue. Immediately he called 911 and started CPR. All the time he worked, he knew it was too late for Barnes, and he couldn't find it in his heart to be all that sorry.

Jaxon waited until she was certain Lucian had left his house and was off his property. At once she sought a telephone to call Don Jacobson, her childhood friend.

"Don, I want you to do some looking for me. Drake called me."

"Good God, Jaxx, what did you expect? It's all over the news that you got yourself engaged to some big-shot moneybags. That would be like a slap in the face to Drake. What were you thinking? If you were going to run off and get engaged, you could have stayed here and married me."

"You would have divorced me inside of a week." Jaxon laughed. "I can still kick your butt, and your macho ego would have a hard time with that."

"What about moneybags? Can you kick his butt?"

"I wish. Anyway, I need information. Put an ear to the ground, ask some of the guys to look around, and see if there's any sign that Drake has been out on the range somewhere. You know how he is—he haunts those hills. Maybe you'll get lucky."

"Be careful, Jaxx. Drake's insane. He's just as likely to turn on you."

"I'm always careful. Unfortunately, I don't think Lucian comprehends the extent of Drake's training. He won't take me seriously when I tell him how dangerous it is to deliberately draw Drake out."

"Trust you to find an adrenaline junkie worse than you."

Jaxon made a rude sound and gave him her number. "Call me if anyone so much as finds a sign they
think
might be his."

"Sure thing, Jaxx. But you promise me you won't do anything dangerous."

"Careful is my middle name," she said softly and hung up the telephone. In the upstairs bedroom she found her things. Jaxon dressed carefully, pulling on dark clothes and a dark hood to cover her blond hair.

She was grateful Lucian had brought her weapons, including her sniper's rifle with the night vision scope. She scooped it up to put it over her shoulder and filled her pockets with shells. She added a couple of knives, her handgun with extra clips, and a rope. Lucian didn't believe Drake was a real threat to him, but she intended to scout the entire neighborhood around his property to find every spot where a sniper might lie in wait.

Jaxon was suddenly aware just how fatigued she was. Her wounds were mostly healed, but she was not as strong as she would have liked. The rifle seemed much heavier than she remembered. She stood just inside the front door, staring at the intricate pattern in the stained glass. It was not only beautiful, but there was something else, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. The pattern seemed to beckon, to soothe, to draw her in. She could have stayed there forever and simply stared at it.

Shaking her head to clear her mind, Jaxon opened the door and went out into the night. It was drizzling again. No hefty storm, but the fog was thick, and mist was rising like steam from the ground. The wolves were confined to the woods behind the house, so the courtyard and the front were free of wild animals. She had felt safe with Lucian holding her, commanding the wolves, but on her own, she feared she might have to destroy the beautiful creatures.

Jaxon continued down the front drive. She found she was having difficulty walking. The air felt heavy and oppressive. Each step she took seemed to be through quicksand. She was breathing hard, the weight in her chest giving her the illusion she couldn't breathe.
Illusion
. This was some sort of illusion. Or maybe it was part of some security system Lucian had that worked on the human nervous system. Whatever it was, Jaxon had no intention of allowing it to defeat her. She had to secure the area for her own peace of mind.

Jaxon treated her distress as she would any other discomfort she might experience in the midst of a mission.

She pushed it out of her head and moved forward, one step at a time. There was no question she would make it out; there could be no other outcome. Jaxon had been trained to overcome all obstacles. Sweat broke out on her forehead, but it didn't matter. She made her way to the gates and pushed them open.

Once out on the street she could breathe more easily, and the heavy weight in her chest lifted.
A bodyguard's nightmare
. She had named Lucian's home such, and it was true. In this exclusive neighborhood each estate had several acres; thus, few houses were near by. Most of the surrounding area was covered in trees and heavy brush. Tyler Drake would love that. And the high bluffs a mile or so down from the house worried her. What a perfect place from which to observe Lucian's house and grounds.

Jaxon sighed as she moved swiftly along the road, keeping in the shadows of the trees. A moving target was easier to spot than a stationary one, so Drake had all the advantages if he had already started scouting the area. She didn't want to think about Lucian and what he had revealed to her. Vampires. There was no such thing. There just couldn't be. Maybe what she had witnessed was some weird trick. But she was the one who had shot the thing. And she never missed. Never. She saw the bullet hit him squarely in the center of his forehead. It hadn't even slowed the creature down.

Jaxon inched her way as she approached high ground. She didn't want to skyline herself. If she was hunting this night, Drake could be, also. She began a meticulous study of the ground, quartering each approach for a sign that Drake had passed this way. She would recognize his work. The cold air was getting through her clothes. Jaxon found herself shivering despite the fact that her movements should have kept her warm. Still, her night vision was so improved, she now had a wonderful asset. She tried to concentrate on that thought to block out the numbing cold.

She was scanning the ground, her eyes searching restlessly, back and forth, for one thing out of place. Only one. That was all she would need to know that Drake was in the area. The first few years Jaxon had tried to hide from him, until she realized it was impossible. Now, she stayed out in the open, where he could come after her if he desired. But he never tried to harm her, only those around her. Only those he perceived as a threat to him. Lucian had set himself up as a target. Where he lived was common knowledge now, with the press following the story of their engagement.

She dropped to her stomach and slithered through the wet grass to the top of a knoll. There, she used her rifle scope and surveyed the property. From this angle one had no real shot. Thick foliage and trees protected the entire side of the house. Even the balconies there were completely hidden from view. She studied her surroundings carefully, picking out the next high point where Drake might go.

She was halfway up the bluff when she began to get that peculiar feeling she always did when she knew trouble lay ahead. It was more than instinct. A gift. A curse. Whatever it was, Jaxon knew Drake had been here before her. She slowed her pace and was careful to keep utterly silent. Not even her clothes could whisper of her presence. She took particular care to study the rocks as she climbed. She found a scuff mark, faint but there. Farther up, near the top, was a distinct rope scrape deep in the dirt, the impression of a thumb near by. She had seen that mark before. She had spent her childhood training with Drake. She knew the way he moved, the way he went up a rope, and the way he tied off. The knuckle of his thumb always brushed the dirt when he tied off.

Her heart was pounding now. He could easily be at the top, making her position extremely vulnerable. She hesitated long enough to drag a knife from her boot and clamp it between her teeth before making the last effort to mount the top of the bluff. She lay quietly, waiting to catch her breath, listening to the sounds of the night. She could hear insects singing, suggesting to her that she was alone up there. She didn't move, wasn't fooled. Drake would never stir up the insects enough to silence them. He was a professional; he knew exactly what he was doing. He would never give away his position by making careless movements.

When Jaxon moved, she did so inch by inch, on her belly, keeping low to the ground, using her elbows to propel her forward. She covered the open ground and found relative shelter in some heavy bushes. Very carefully she slipped the rifle from her shoulder. It felt solid and safe in her hand, but it was meant for distance shooting, not hand-to-hand combat. This might her one chance to rid the world of Tyler Drake. If he was up there, she was determined that only one of them would go back down. And Drake would never submit to arrest.

She covered every inch of the cliffs. Tyler had spent time here; she knew he had. She could smell him everywhere. Actually smell him. It brought back so many nightmares, that smell. The signs were fresh enough that she knew Tyler must have been scouting the estate while Lucian was at the hospital with her. He hadn't shot at them, and she'd had no premonition of danger, so he must have left before they arrived. When she was satisfied Drake was no longer on the cliff, she allowed herself a moment to rest. With so many unwanted memories crowding in, her stomach was in hard knots. Just being this close to Drake made her sick. Taking a deep breath to settle her nerves, Jaxon scooted across open rock to the edge of the bluff so she could once more scope out the house. Here she had a better view.

Dragging her scope out, she took aim. Dense foliage mostly obscured the front of the house, but the upper stories rose above the trees. She could partially see into two windows despite the stained glass. She wasn't familiar enough with the layout of the house to know which rooms she was seeing, but neither appeared to be her bedroom. Drake could conceivably get a shot off from here and score a hit if Lucian entered either of the two rooms. Rolling over, she pulled out a small notebook and meticulously entered each calculation.

It took longer to make her way back down the cliff and around to the far side of the house. The forest was thick, and bushes grew everywhere. Her rifle was becoming more and more cumbersome. Jaxon realized she was far weaker than she had thought. The wounds she had been certain were healed were now throbbing. Her breath was coming in gasps. As a child, training on the base, she had been drilled to overcome all obstacles, including pain or discomfort of any kind. She took inventory quickly, assessed the damage to her body, and dismissed it. Protecting Lucian was all-important. He refused to believe her when she said Drake was dangerous to him, a pro, a chameleon when he needed to be.

The estate was immense. Lucian had been right in that, even from high ground, Drake would not find a decent shot. But there were other ways. She began to walk along the massive stone wall around the grounds. It was very high, very thick. On the other side, the wolves paced. She couldn't see them, but she sensed they were there. It was odd, but in her mind she thought she could hear them calling to her. Drake had come this way. She put a hand on the wall. Would he poison the wolves? That wouldn't pose much of a problem to him. Was that the security Lucian was counting on so heavily? Wolves wouldn't even slow Drake down.