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 tranquillity, 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?”