Her body certainly knew it. She felt him in every cell, alive, living within her. She smiled, her hands caressing the heavy muscles of his chest. “You were angry with me for going outside, weren’t you?”
“I do not honestly think I could be angry with you,” he said thoughtfully. “You are my life. My miracle. I
feared
for you, and I did not care for the feeling. I have never known fear. I hunted and destroyed, went into battle a thousand times, and I never knew this emotion. I know it now, and I do not like it.” His hand was back in her hair, stroking, twisting strands, his fingers occasionally finding the nape of her neck to massage her. “It is in your nature to protect others. You are very different from what I envisioned once I knew you existed.”
Jaxon lifted her head. “Really? Just what was your vision?”
He smiled into her dark eyes. “I have a feeling my answer could get me into trouble. I think I will remain silent.”
“Oh, no, you won’t. You tell me all about this wonder woman.” She thumped his chest for emphasis.
“The women of my race are tall and elegant with long black hair and dark eyes. They would never go hunting a vampire or ghoul or even a madman, especially when asked by their lifemate to stay within a certain area. And before you consider them downtrodden, these women do this because they have complete faith in the ability of their lifemate to protect them. You go rushing out headlong, your first thought for my safety instead of your own. I am the most powerful hunter our people have known, yet you think to save me from one such as a ghoul.” He smiled and reached to kiss away her frown. “I am not complaining, angel. I am merely stating a fact that I have come to understand.”
“Tall? Elegant? What does that mean? What do you mean by ‘elegant’? Just because I’m short doesn’t mean I can’t be elegant. I wear jeans because I like them, and they’re comfortable. Long black hair may be beautiful—it is on you—but there’s nothing wrong with blond hair. Or short hair, for that matter. It’s very practical to care for.” She sounded indignant.
His hand was moving in her hair. He loved her hair, the silky, wild strands that went in every direction. He found himself smiling again for no reason. Jaxon didn’t care that the women of his race might stay safely indoors while the men went out to hunt. She cared that he had described them as tall and elegant with long black hair. He found that rather amusing. Jaxon was Jaxon, a small powder keg prepared to save the world. No one would change that, least of all her own lifemate. She had to be accepted for the person she was.
Lucian’s decision to bring her over to the Carpathian race stemmed from his knowledge of her nature. It was the only real way to protect her from harm. He would sleep when she slept; he would always be aware of her every movement. He would be in her, with her, if anything or anyone threatened her. It was the only path left to him if he wanted to allow her to remain exactly who she was; yet his decision might very well cause her to despise him.
“What is wrong, Lucian? Are you sorry you made love to me?” Suddenly Jaxon was uneasy. She wasn’t experienced enough to know if she had pleased him or not. She thought she had, but maybe not. He was intensely passionate. Maybe she couldn’t sate his hunger. After all, he was a completely different species.
“How could I ever be sorry for doing the one thing I have wanted more than anything in the world? Just for your information, angel, I intend to make love to you a few more times before this night is done. And no one else could ever satisfy me. There is only you for me. Not any other woman. Ever. I do not want tall elegance or long black hair. I have grown rather fond of your short blond hair and small, perfect body. You will not be getting rid of me easily.”
Jaxon smiled and lay her head once more on his chest. Deep inside her where she had felt so wonderful, she became aware of a slow, torturous clenching and unclenching of her muscles. She pressed a hand to her stomach and lay very still, trying to assess what was happening. Was this normal? It felt like cramps—no, worse than cramps—something alive moving within her body, spreading to every organ.
Lucian’s hand was on the nape of her neck, easing the tension from her suddenly taut muscles. He was very still, as if he sensed something was wrong. He didn’t ask her what it was. He didn’t say anything at all. He simply held her close in his arms, protectively, possessively.
Chapter Eight
Jaxon lay quietly in his arms, staring up at Lucian’s face with wide, dark eyes. Haunted eyes. Terror-stricken eyes. “I feel sick all of a sudden.” She sat up abruptly, pushing at him futilely to put distance between them. The terrible burning in her stomach was increasing with each passing second. Increasing and spreading like wildfire throughout her body. “Lucian, something’s really wrong.” She reached for the phone on a small end table.
Lucian leaned around her and took the receiver from her hand. “It is the conversion taking place within your body.” Once more his voice was totally without expression. “Your body must rid itself of its human toxins.” He spoke in his soft, matter-of-fact voice.
Jaxon jerked away from him, her eyes enormous. She pressed both hands to her stomach. It felt as if someone were taking a blowtorch to her insides. “What did you do, Lucian? What did you do?”
Fire rushed through her body, her muscles contorted, and she found herself falling back to the floor helplessly in the throes of some kind of seizure. Lucian was there before her, cradling her close, his mind sharing hers so that he bore the brunt of the horrific pain as wave after wave rushed through her. Jaxon could only cling to him, terrified, as the agony crawled through her body.
It seemed to last hours, yet in minutes the pain began to wane. Little beads of sweat covered her skin, and she felt sicker than ever, exhausted. “The fire, Lucian. I can’t stand the fire. It hurts. Everything hurts.” Even her eyes hurt.
He waved a hand, and the flames were gone. A cooling breeze moved through the room, fanning her skin. Her nails dug into his arm. It was starting again. He felt it in her mind, the swelling pain twisting at her insides, clawing at her. Lucian was appalled at the strength of the seizures that lifted and slammed down her small body. Without his arms around her she would have been crashing onto the floor. This spasm was worse than the last one, her muscles knotting and clenching beneath her skin. She tried to say his name, to whisper it as she did when she needed an anchor, but nothing would come out, not even a croak. Inside her mind she was screaming for him.
Lucian surrounded her, body and mind. He sent himself seeking outside his body and into hers. Her organs were reshaping, her tissues and cells contorting. He made every attempt to ease her pain, but Jaxon was very slight, very small, and the force of the seizures was tearing at her body, her muscles so strained they were hard knots. He breathed with her, for her. He held her when her body rejected its human remnants and she vomited over and over. He washed her face, removing the beads of blood she had sweated from her forehead, and rocked her when the wave of agony receded.
Jaxon lay passively, conserving her energy. She was no longer fighting the pain, and her mind was carefully blank. Her eyes widened, and she looked at him helplessly, hopelessly when the next seizure began to take hold. Lucian found himself swearing between his teeth in the ancient language. He waited until he was certain the vomiting was over, the last toxins removed from her body, before he could safely command her to sleep.
Once she slept; he carefully cleansed her body, then cleaned all evidence of her torment from the room. Very gently he picked up her, cradling her against his chest. She felt so slight, so delicate, her bones so fragile. He buried his face in her hair, tears swimming close to the surface, burning his eyes. He carried her through the basement to his sleeping chamber and placed her in the middle of his bed. She looked like a small child under the sheet he drew carefully over her.