“I can’t think about it, Lucian. If I try, I go crazy.”
“That is all right, angel. What do you expect of yourself? Instant acceptance? No one could easily accept such a thing. It is a dark gift. We live in a beautiful world, yes, but we must pay a high price for the special talents we are given. And your lifemate has responsibilities that place you in dangerous situations. I would change what I am if I could—the dark angel of death, my people call me—but I am a hunter of the undead, and I fear I always will be.”
Her wide eyes flashed with sudden anger. “They call you that? The dark angel of death’? How can they be so terrible when you’ve given them so much? What right do they have to judge you?” She was instantly protective of him, a young tigress, and he had a sudden vision of her with their children.
The thought made him want to smile. Instead, he turned off the water and carried her out of the shower. Once she was standing on the tiles, he enveloped her with a large towel. Pulling the edges together, he drew her close. “I am an ancient Carpathian male with tremendous knowledge and power. My people know how dangerous that combination is. We are predators, my love, and can turn at any moment when we are without our lifemates. Most males turn after far fewer centuries than I have existed.”
She glared at him. “Don’t you make excuses for them. I’ve been in your mind, and you’re no more a killer than I am.”
He laughed; he couldn’t help himself. She was so innocent, even now, after all they had shared. She could never be what he was, a predator with a thin veneer of civilization and tremendous discipline. She was light to his darkness, his savior, his miracle, and she couldn’t see it. She wouldn’t look at herself through his eyes.
“The dawn is approaching, Jaxon.” He knew it without glancing at the time; his people always knew the exact moment of sunrise or sunset. “Come with me to the sleeping chamber.”
Lucian felt her instant reluctance, the sudden dread seizing her. That made it real in her mind, too final for her to accept. He held out a hand. “Walk with me.” He said it softly, gently, his voice like velvet.
Jaxon stared at his hand, not wanting to go with him, as if somehow by staying in the main part of the house she would remain human. She felt torn, wanting to remain, yet not wanting to hurt Lucian. Very slowly, hesitantly she put her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers, warm and sure. “You will always be safe with me, Jaxon. If you believe that, you will get through this.”
He tugged until she was beneath the protection of his shoulder and he could wrap his arm around her. They moved together through the house, down the wide spiral staircase, through the kitchen, and into the basement. He felt her hesitation as they entered the narrow corridor leading down to the sleeping chamber. It was there in her mind, the thought of running back up the stairs. Lucian merely tightened his arm, bending his head to brush the warmth of his mouth against her temple in a small gesture of encouragement.
“In all the centuries of my existence, Jaxon, I have never met a woman such as you.” His admiration and love for her was in the soft purity of his voice. Deliberately he matched his breathing to hers, his heart to hers so that he could regulate her panicked pace to a calmer one. Easily he moved in her mind, stilling the chaos, a light touch to bring a measure of tranquility, of acceptance, easing her into the difficult transition.
Lucian was careful not to take away her free will, but he could not bear her suffering. It moved him as nothing else in his life ever had. He would have done anything for her, anything to protect her. He had the ability to erase every terrible memory from her mind, wipe out her past entirely. He had the capacity to ensure she would accept being a Carpathian, believe she had always been one, yet he knew it was wrong. Still, the idea lingered in his mind. He despised himself for allowing her to suffer, for causing the physical pain of the conversion and now her agony of attempting to accept what he had wrought.
“I would hate that. Eventually you wouldn’t be able to live with the lie, Lucian,” she said quietly.
He glanced down at her, his black gaze loving. She was looking up at him with wide brown eyes, a hint of laughter in their depths. “You didn’t think I would learn to read your mind so easily, did you?” She shook her head. “No, you didn’t think I would
choose
to read it.” She was smug about catching that bit of knowledge.
He opened the door to the chamber and stepped back to allow her to enter first. It pleased him that she had chosen to read his thoughts. It was an intimacy between lifemates, the sharing of thoughts and feelings without words. A private path for two. “You continually astonish me,” he admitted. And she did. She amazed him with her ability to adapt to every new situation. Just the fact that she could smile was astounding.
Jaxon held on to the towel, looking around rather desperately for something to put on so she wouldn’t feel so vulnerable. Lucian held out an immaculate white silk shirt, and she slipped her arms in it. Her long lashes swept down, veiling her expression as he began to button up the front of the shirt, his knuckles brushing against her bare skin. “What was that creature that was throwing itself against the wall? It wasn’t a vampire, was it, because it seemed incredibly stupid.”
“It was a ghoul. The walking dead. Not undead, like a vampire, but a minion of the vampire. A servant. A puppet. As I told you, the vampire can use a human to do his bidding during the day while he rests. The ghoul lives only to carry out the vampire’s wishes. He is fed by the blood of the vampire and the flesh of the dead.”
Jaxon gasped and covered her mouth. “I don’t know why I ask you questions. You always say something wild. And it’s not as if I don’t know you’re going to do it. I just wade right in and ask anyway.” She shoved a hand through her hair, sending damp tendrils in every direction.
Lucian automatically reached out to smooth her hair back into place. “A ghoul is dangerous because it never stops until it is completely destroyed.”
She nodded, turning the information over and over in her mind. “What about the wall? What kind of security system do you have in it? Did it ever occur to you a child might try to climb on that wall?”
“If a child attempted to climb the wall, absolutely nothing would happen,” he answered. “The wall only reacts to evil.”
She nodded again, biting down on her lower lip. “Naturally. Of course. Why would I think anything else?”
“Come to bed, angel,” he invited softly.
She wasn’t looking at him, her eyes carefully studying the surrounding walls. He had been meticulous about the construction of this room, ensuring that it appeared to be a replica of a bedroom aboveground. Lightly he touched her mind, wanting to correct whatever might be wrong. It took great effort to prevent a smile from showing on his face. Her reaction had nothing to do with the room, nothing to do with her conversion, and everything to do with his naked body and the things they had done together.
Lucian glided to the bed and covered his lower body with a sheet. “Are you going to walk around the chamber for the entire day?”
“Maybe,” she answered, touching the walls, running her fingertips over them to feel the texture. “How far underground are we?”
Lucian shrugged his powerful shoulders, a casual ripple of muscles, his eyes suddenly watchful. “Do you have a problem being beneath the earth?” He was a shadow in her mind and knew she had no anxiety over being underground. She was reluctant to get into bed, afraid of sleeping, of waking, afraid of facing the truth.
She glanced at him, more comfortable now that his nakedness was covered. Her behavior made no sense to her. Why did she want to be with Lucian so desperately? It was so unlike her. He had been honest with her from the first about who and what he was, yet she had simply gone along with everything he said, everything he did.