Dark Guardian (7 page)

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Authors: Christine Feehan

Tags: #Fantasy, #Vampires, #General, #Fiction, #Policewomen, #Romance

BOOK: Dark Guardian
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He was amazed at how powerful the sexual urges he was experiencing for her were. That it had never happened to him before. He had seldom looked at a woman for other than satisfying hunger. Now his hunger was different and far stronger than anything he had ever imagined. For the sake of knowledge Lucian had sometimes shared the minds of humans to see what sex felt like. This urgent demand raging throughout his body was completely different from even that. It seemed to take over his mind, driving out every sane thought.

Protective. Lucian knew every Carpathian male was born with the tremendous duty of protecting the women and children of their race. This protectiveness he felt toward Jaxon was also different. Lucian had dedicated his life to guarding humans and Carpathians alike, yet again, the intensity of his emotions toward Jaxon was so much stronger. He was unprepared for how powerful his attachment to her would really be. He had lived nearly all his life in darkness and shadow, was comfortable and familiar with violence. He was wholly dark and dangerous. Now he wanted to know tenderness, gentleness. He knew himself as most men never did. He knew he was powerful and dangerous, and he accepted it in himself. Now, however, with Jaxon lying so vulnerable and fragile in his bed, he was even more so.

With a sigh he sank down on the bed beside her. While she remained human and needed to stay above ground to survive, he would be unable to fully protect her during the day, when sunlight diminished Carpathian powers. Normally he would take to the earth until nightfall. Which posed a problem for both of them. She could not be separated from him for that many hours without suffering tremendously. He stretched out on the bed beside her. He would command her to to sleep until the next sunset. Meanwhile, the safeguards he would weave around them and the wolves he would release would keep them safe from any creature, human or otherwise, that might seek to harm them. He gathered her small body into the shelter of his larger frame and buried his face in the silky fragrance of her hair.

Chapter Two

Jaxon smelled him first. Clean. Fresh. Sexy. She inwardly shook her head at herself in reprimand. She knew him now. Knew his touch, his voice, his scent. Even in sleep her hand had been curled around the familiar butt of her gun. Now she relaxed her hold on it and actually allowed it to drop to the sheet beside her. She felt safe. She lay with her eyes closed, contemplating that. The feeling of safety. She didn't remember ever having experienced such a thing before. It interested her that, although she was weak and injured, alone with a complete stranger and with no idea of where she was, she felt safe.

She opened her eyes and found him looming above her, exactly where she knew he would be. She felt him inside her mind, knew she could find him in a crowd without looking. The very sight of him stole her breath. He was so tall, and he wore power like a second skin No. That wasn't exactly right. He was power personified. She waited for him to speak, needing to hear his voice. She loved the sound of his voice. It frightened her, her tremendous reaction to him. She had trained herself not to feel anything for anyone, particularly a man. She was convinced Tyler Drake would resurface if she were to show interest in a man.

"Are you feeling any better this evening?" Lucian's hand brushed her forehead.

Jaxon felt the warmth of his touch like a rush of lava through her body. "You look tired." She frowned. "Have you been taking care of me nonstop without sleeping?" The thought of having a stranger tend to her while she slept should be disconcerting, yet she didn't really mind it so much with him. Jaxon studied him. Physically he was beautiful, much like the mythical Greek gods. But his weary eyes had seen far too much, and she was definitely worried that he wasn't getting enough sleep. She had an unexpected urge to reach up and touch his beard-shadowed jaw.

"I am the one taking care of
you
, honey." A faint smile curved his perfectly sculpted mouth. "You do not need to think of anyone else but yourself. Your wounds are healing nicely. Another day and we can return you to the hospital, so your friends can see for themselves that you are alive and recovering. I have reassured them, but they need to see you with their own eyes."

Lucian controlled human minds easily without giving it much thought. He had done so for many centuries. But this was a little more wearing, controlling so many different humans and at such a distance. He was not ready to relinquish his care of Jaxon to hospital workers until he was certain they would immediately release her to come home. He wanted no blood tests performed on her, and he knew she would be very vulnerable in a hospital should Tyler Drake or any of the enemies she had acquired through her work decide to finish the job someone had clearly started.

"I want to sit up." She attempted to do so, surprised she still felt so weak.

At once Lucian caught her slight body in his hands and easily lifted her into a sitting position. He carefully tucked the pillows behind her and the blankets around her. She was even paler than usual. "Breathe deeply, and you will not faint." He made it a decree.

She found herself smiling. "Do you have any idea how bizarre this is? I know this is no hospital. It isn't even some kind of sanitarium, is it? And you're no doctor."

He moved across the room with swift, fluid, totally silent steps. She couldn't help comparing the way he moved to that of a large jungle cat. There was something menacing about him, yet at the same time something quite sensual. He made her feel secure and safe, yet threatened in a way she had never been before. Which was it? Safe or in danger? If he was such a predator, why wasn't her inner warning system shrieking at her? She let her breath out slowly, carefully. She felt threatened as a woman, not as a law enforcement officer, she realized.

Lucian turned to face her, the window behind him. Outside, the night was dark and a bit stormy. She could hear rain falling in a steady pattern and wind blowing through the trees, making their branches rake the walls. "I may not be a doctor in the usual sense of the word, but I do heal people. I healed you."

Again, Jaxon knew it was true. She knew all kinds of things about him. Things she shouldn't have known. Intimate things. She knew he had traveled the world, every continent, several times. He spoke countless languages. He was wealthy, yet money meant nothing to him except as a means to an end. She knew he had been searching for her for a long, long time.

As she assessed the situation, Lucian's black eyes watched her carefully, unblinking, the eyes of a predator watching its prey. His mind was a shadow in hers, observing her thoughts, the way her mind worked, the way she was analyzing her own feelings.

Jaxon was aware of that strange phenomenon, the way her heart beat matched the rhythm of his, the way her breathing seemed to slow to the pace of his. How did she know so much about Lucian when he was a complete stranger to her? She knew he loved art and antiquities. He had extensive knowledge of both and of the artists and artisans who had created them, yet only recently had he found joy and beauty in paintings and sculptures, antiques and music. He had healed countless people, healed them in some strange and unique way. That part was hazy to her, locked away somewhere in her brain for further study. He had healed her in the same way he had those others.

"You talked to me while I was asleep," she murmured, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for why she knew so much about him. "Is that how I know so many things about you?"

Lucian shrugged carelessly, the movement fluid and flawlessly casual. "Does it really matter?" Simply looking at her made him want to smile. It was amazing how her mere existence had already changed his life. He wanted to look at her for all time. The shape of her face, the curve of her cheek, her long lashes, everything. After all the dark ugliness, the truly evil things he had seen over the centuries, Jaxon was a miracle to him.

Everything about Lucian was mesmerizing to Jaxx. She never wanted to leave him. She wanted to remain here, locked away in their own world, far from what she knew was reality. She felt safe and warm. She loved the way he looked at her. Occasionally she saw in his eyes unexpected flashes—flashes of desire, of possessiveness, of warmth and tenderness. She very much wanted to savor those things. To hold them to her.

"I guess it doesn't matter," she found herself replying.

His voice was so soft. Hearing it was like being wrapped in velvet. But Jaxon was not about to fool herself. As sexy and exciting as Lucian was, she had the feeling that if she was stupid enough to give him a free hand, he could easily take on the male, domineering arrogance that set her teeth on edge.

He burst out laughing, the sound drifting over her skin like the touch of fingers. A shaft of desire hit her, then blossomed into full-blown need. That terrified her. She was unprepared for such intense feelings. Did her reaction to him show? She actually looked around guiltily, afraid someone else might observe her looking at Lucian.

"You have to take me home," she said. Her voice was husky. She could feel tears clogging her throat. This was all a fantasy. Reality was stark and ugly. Her presence here would get this beautiful man killed. He would pay the ultimate price because she had looked upon him with longing. Because he had been kind enough to help her.

Lucian glided across the room so swiftly, she actually didn't see him move. He was a tall, muscular man, elegant in every way, silent when he walked, but she still should have seen him. All she had done was blink, and he was standing over her, reaching for her chin with two fingers. He tilted her head up, forcing her to look into his black eyes. At once she felt herself falling forward, into him, a part of him, warm and safe.

"There is no need for your distress, honey. I cannot have it. You actually make my heart ache." His thumb was feathering back and forth across her skin, sending waves of heat racing through her bloodstream. "No one can harm you."

"I'm not worried about me, you idiot." Jaxon was provoked. He didn't seem to understand the danger he was in. He really was arrogant.

Suddenly his demeanor changed completely. His smile faded, and his eyes became as cold as ice. He turned his head toward the window. She clearly saw the predator in him then. The hunter. There was no gentleness, no softness; he was a warrior without any conscience to hinder him.

"Stay here, Jaxon," he murmured almost absently, clearly expecting obedience. "I will be back soon."

And just like that, he was gone. Another blink, and he was no longer in the room. She sat there, unerringly finding her gun beneath the covers. Her hand wrapped around it—an extension of her arm, it was so familiar. She felt now what Lucian had felt, the darkness stealing into their world. It crept in slowly, seeping into her mind so insidiously that, at first, she hadn't recognized it. Danger had found them in this place of safety.

The feeling was overwhelming, so much so that Jaxon almost couldn't breathe. Whoever was stalking them was wholly evil. She was certain Tyler Drake had found her once again. He was relentless in his pursuit. Invincible. No one had so much as come near enough to him to even wound him. He killed at will.

Once, since he had murdered her family and then her foster family, it had been a neighbor of hers, one Jaxon enjoyed having coffee with—a young woman in a wheelchair with a zest for life and a ready smile. Jaxon had never allowed herself to have a real friend since. Even on the job she made certain it appeared as if she changed partners often. In public she never smiled at them or socialized with them, not wanting to trigger Tyler's killing rage. This situation—Jaxon alone in a man's house—was the perfect scenario to provoke Tyler once more, a vengeful maniac determined to murder Lucian.

Lucian clearly didn't appreciate the extent of Tyler's Navy SEALs training. He was a chameleon, blending into any landscape. He was a superb sniper, capable of taking out a target from an extraordinary distance. Jaxon recognized Lucian as a dangerous man. It was in his eyes, in the set of shoulders, the confidence in his walk, the way he moved. But that didn't mean Tyler Drake couldn't get to him just as he had gotten to her equally well-trained father and foster father, Russell Andrews.

Jaxon tossed back the covers. She was wearing only a man's silk shirt. As she was short, the shirt fell well past her knees, and, in any case, modesty was the last thing she was worried about. The feeling of danger was now stronger than ever. Lucian was in trouble, and she needed to go to him. He didn't know her that well, didn't realize the extent of her training and what an asset she could be.

Standing was more difficult than she'd thought it would be. She hadn't been in an upright position for days. Her legs felt rubbery, and she was terribly weak. Ignoring the way her body protested, she moved toward the door, careful not to make a sound She didn't know the layout of the house, and, judging by the size of her room, the building was huge, but she was confident she could find Lucian. She felt connected to him. She wouldn't allow anything to happen to him. To Jaxon, it was that simple. She would not let him be hurt for any reason, least of all on her account.

Her bedroom opened out into a long, wide landing with a sweeping staircase on either end. The carpets were thick and looked brand new. Every detail about the house looked ideal. Jaxon noticed it all because it was so perfect, as if Lucian had lovingly brought in every item personally. Each painting, each sculpture, the wall paper and carpets and stained glass—it was everything she had ever dreamed of, right down to her preference in antique furniture.

Jaxon went by it all silently, her bare feet making no sound as she began her descent down the stairs. Halfway down, she spotted an alcove cut into the wall, an ornate glass door leading to a small balcony. She opened the door, taking great care to do so in complete silence. At once the rain drenched her, the wind so cold she began to tremble. She barely noticed. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness, seeking her target.

At first she could see nothing. A jagged bolt of lightning arced across the sky, lighting the courtyard below. She could see Lucian standing completely motionless in the very center of the immense patio. Several yards away from him a second figure cloaked in along black cape stood in deeper shadows. She found that her eyes seemed to adjust quickly to the lack of light, giving her excellent night vision, and her acute hearing, new and odd to her, picked up the strange conversation between the two men.

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