Lucian’s fingers found the nape of her neck and began a slow, soothing massage. He was asking quite a bit of Jaxon to accept the things she had seen, the things he had told her. She hadn’t closed her mind to the possibility of another humanlike species. She also hadn’t closed her mind completely to the possibility that she might be going crazy or that he might be an enemy.
“I’m glad your wounds weren’t as bad as I thought they might be, Barry,” Jaxon said softly, meaning it.
“You told me in the warehouse to quit being such a wimp,” Barry contradicted.
“I was only trying to get you moving, to get you out of there,” she pointed out.
“Oh, sure,” her partner said, winking at Lucian over her head. “Of course, the docs thought they were going to have to take my arm off,” Barry informed her. “The first X-rays showed such shattered bones, the doctors said the inside of my arm was just mush and they couldn’t possibly save it. But I was lucky. I woke up a few hours later, before they were taking me to the operating room, and they said some mix-up must have occurred. My shoulder was broken, but otherwise the bullet just passed through without doing much damage. No one could explain it, but I didn’t mind. I figured it was a miracle, and I was willing to accept it.”
Jaxon went still inside. She knew what had happened. Lucian had happened. He had healed Barry because Barry mattered to her. She knew it instinctively; she knew it without asking. And she didn’t want to know, because it meant Lucian really could do the things he said he could. Deliberately, she didn’t look at him. How much had Barry actually seen that night in the warehouse? Was there anything in his memories that might in some way harm Lucian? Or, worse, would Lucian decide there was something that could condemn him? She rubbed at her suddenly pounding temples.
“Barry,” Lucian said softly, “Jaxon is becoming tired, and I still have to get her home tonight. I know the two of you want to catch up, but it is too early for her to wear herself out.” He added a subtle mental “push” to his voice, creating a gentle command but one impossible to disobey.
Barry nodded immediately, leaning over to brush a kiss on top of her head. Jaxon actually felt the sudden stillness in Lucian. He was like a great jungle cat coiled and ready to strike, yet as motionless as a mountain. She found herself holding her breath for no reason at all.
Lucian was smiling with what appeared to be genuine warmth, shaking Barry’s hand and walking with him to the door. Then, when Barry was gone, he turned to look at her. “You do not trust me.”
“You sound as if that amuses you.” Jaxon was tired of pretending. “I don’t know you, Lucian, not at all. The truth is, I haven’t spent a whole lot of time with other people. I’ve made it a habit to be alone. I’m not sure I’m comfortable being around a stranger who knows so much about me, when I know nothing about him.”
“You are quite capable of reading my mind, angel. Merge your thoughts with mine. You will find out anything you might want to know.”
She shook her head, determined not to get caught by the magic of his voice. “I want to go home to my own apartment and think about everything for a while.”
The telephone chimed before he could respond. Jaxon was oddly grateful. She was uncertain if she wanted him to agree with her or protest. The thought of being separated from him brought a great heaviness to her heart. She picked up the phone, expecting her captain’s voice.
“Jaxx, sweetheart? This is Daddy.”
Tyler. His voice made her instantly sick inside. It brought back every detail of her life with this man. The terrible responsibility of her childhood, shielding her mother and brother, only to fail in the end. The guilt over the Andrews family losing their lives simply for giving her a home. And over Carol Taylor, whose only sin was that she liked to share a cup of coffee in the morning with Jaxon. Drake had called Jaxon one long-ago morning, telling her Carol was weak and useless, like Rebecca, playing on Jaxon’s sense of compassion, the woman was nothing but a leech, a burden. Jaxon had known she would find Carol dead that morning, but she had dropped the phone and run to her apartment anyway.