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 seclused 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 think lifemates 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.