Her dark brown gaze moved over his face. “Those men fed the wolves poison?”
He tugged at her hand to get her walking beside him toward the long white limousine. “Actually, yes, they did.”
Antonio handed her into the car. She smiled up at him rather absently, turning over the information in her mind. “And you let them go? That doesn’t sound like you. Where are we going? We aren’t taking this monstrosity wherever we’re going, are we? I own a little car. It gets great mileage,” she added hopefully.
Lucian leaned toward her and whispered softly in her ear. “We do not need a car when we leave, angel. We are simply drawing attention to ourselves for the moment.”
A small smile found its way to her mouth. “This car definitely draws attention.”
“Is that not the idea? Tyler Drake will know we are leaving. That is imperative. And the undead must be aware of our every move.”
“But are we actually taking this limo all the way to our destination, which, by the way, I haven’t been told? Do you even know it for certain?”
The car was moving with silent swiftness through the streets toward the police station. “I own property up on the border between Washington and Canada. We will be able to set up housekeeping there with no problem.”
Jaxon shook her head but refrained from pointing out that she had misgivings about being in the wilderness with Tyler Drake hunting them. They had already discussed it. She knew Lucian believed Drake would be easily handled, but he didn’t realize the extent of Drake’s training. Tyler Drake was human, but he was an extraordinary human. And the only thing that now mattered to Drake was likely killing Lucian. It would be impossible in hand-to-hand combat, but not from a distance. She believed Drake capable of killing from a very long distance—much longer than Lucian might suppose. Drake was an excellent shot and equally adept at making remote-controlled bombs.
Jaxon turned her face away from Lucian to stare out the window at the passing streets. Even in the night the sidewalks were alive with people. She was familiar with the patterns of their lives. The ebb and flow of crime according to time, weather, and month had always been her focus, her life. Now she felt out of sync with that world she had known. She could hear things she had never heard before, a barrage of sounds from insect chirps to whispered conversations. Sometimes the assault on her ears was almost more than she could bear before she remembered how to turn down the volume. She was aware of things she had never noticed before. Textures. Colors. Little everyday things like the brush of hair against her cheek. Hearts beating. The rush of blood in veins. The bark on trees. The way the wind blew through foliage.
There was a growing restlessness in her that she had never experienced. A wild, untamed spirit that seemed to be spreading, demanding more from her, demanding things she had no knowledge of. She had known the night as a time when many crimes occurred under the cover of darkness, yet now it called to her seductively, whispered to her continually.
Embrace me. Embrace me.
She belonged in the night. It enfolded her within its darkness as in the softest of blankets. The stars overhead were like glittering diamonds, a kaleidoscope of amazing beauty.
The car pulled into the police station parking lot, and Antonio courteously opened the door for them. Feeling embarrassed and hoping none of her friends would see her, Jaxon hastily slid out of the limo.
Lucian caught her hand, preventing her from surging ahead of him. “Follow my lead, angel. This is where we spread rumors so that those we want to trail us will do so.”
She nodded and walked with him into the station. As always, Lucian commanded immediate attention. She didn’t think he was manipulating anyone; it was simply the way he carried himself. Tall and straight with complete confidence. Dark and dangerous. Mysterious. Old World. Gothic, even. A dark lord or prince. He automatically commanded respect. Even the captain came out of his office immediately, hand extended. To Lucian. Not to her. She shook her head and allowed the conversation to flow around her. She even spaced out a bit until she heard the word
marriage
. At once she blinked to bring the two men into focus.
To her horror, Lucian was telling Captain Smith that they had married quietly and he was now taking her away. He admitted they were hoping Drake would follow them and thus any copycats would be headed off before they could strike. The official version would be that they had gone off for a secluded honeymoon. The captain was to drop it around the station house that they had headed to Lucian’s hideaway along the border. The captain actually hugged her while he murmured his congratulations and admonishments to be careful. Jaxon had the odd feeling she was living in a fantasy world, a Dorothy in Oz effect.
We aren’t married.
She said it firmly because it was the one thing she knew absolutely to be true.
Of course we are. What do you thinklifemates are?
He refuted her testimony with the causal finesse of a swordsman.
We aren’t married,
she repeated stubbornly. This time she flashed him a warning with her dark eyes.
He grinned at her, a mischievous, little-boy, all-too-sexy grin that instantly melted her heart.
I recall the ritual ceremony in vivid detail. If you do not, I will be happy to repeat it. The ritual is binding in every way.
She lifted her chin at him as they reentered the limousine. “For you, maybe, but I’m human, remember? I get married. That’s the way
we
do things.”
“You wish, maybe, but reality is an altogether different thing.” He sounded very male, very smug.
Jaxon sat beside him in silence, smoldering. It wasn’t that she was angling for a wedding ring. Or a wedding. It was the idea that he was always right that was so galling.
Thought
, she reminded herself. He
thought
he was always right. Officially, they were not married, so that made her technically right. She relaxed, feeling rather smug herself. Let him think she was wrong.
You are very much married to me, Jaxon. Make no mistake about it.
A little thread of iron ran through the soft velvet of his voice, as if he thought she was considering jumping ship and hotfooting it away from him.
Deliberately Jaxon shrugged carelessly. “Think whatever you like, Lucian. Obviously we aren’t going to come to any agreement on this issue. What are we doing now?”
“We are ensuring we have made enough of a spectacle of ourselves that everyone in town has seen us or heard of our departure. And because you are so adamant, we will leave a paper trail as well.”
“What does that mean?” She was suddenly suspicious of his soft, melting voice. He sounded too pure and beautiful. He just had to be up to no good.
“Carpathians leave as few paper trails behind as possible. Things like passports have a way of turning up as incriminating evidence a few hundred years later. Now, with computers, it is even easier to find oneself trapped in a maze of paperwork. We do not like to create documents unless they are for property or money or businesses we continually leave to ourselves upon our timely ‘deaths.’ It is one of the reasons we travel often from continent to continent if we are not in our homeland. People find it impossible to identify us as other than our own sires, perhaps, fifty or sixty years later.”