Dark Guardian (Dark Series - book 9) Page 2

Gabriel crouched low, his stance that of a fighter. Behind him, his lifemate watched with sorrow-filled eyes as the tall, elegant man approached. He looked what he was: a dark, dangerous predator. His black eyes glittered dangerously, graveyard eyes. Eyes of death. He moved with an animal grace, a ripple of power.

  “Stay back, Lucian,” Gabriel warned softly. “You will not endanger my lifemate.”

  “Then you will do as you vowed so many centuries ago. You must destroy me.” The voice was a whisper of velvet, a soft command.

  Gabriel recognized the hidden compulsion even as he leaped forward to strike. At the last possible second, with his lifemate’s denial loud in his mind, he whipped his clawed hand at his twin brother’s throat and realized Lucian had opened his arms wide in acceptance of the kill.

  No vampire would do such a thing. Never. The undead fought with their dying breath to kill everyone and everything around them. To sacrifice one’s life was not the act of a vampire

  .

  The knowledge came too late. Crimson droplets sprayed, arced. Gabriel tried to go back, to reach his brother, but Lucian’s power was far too great. Gabriel was unable to move, stopped in his tracks by Lucian’s will alone. His eyes widened in surprise. Lucian had so much power. Gabriel was an ancient, more powerful than most on earth—Lucian’s equal, he would have said until that moment.

  “You must let us aid you,” Francesca, Gabriel’s lifemate, said softly. Her voice was crystal clear, soothing. She was a great healer. If anyone could prevent Lucian’s death, she could. “I know what you are attempting to do here. You think to end it now.”

  Lucian’s white teeth gleamed. “Gabriel has you to keep him safe. That had been my task, and it is ended now. I seek rest.”

  Blood was soaking his clothes, running down his arms. He made no attempt to stop it. He simply stood there, tall and straight. No accusation lit his eyes or voice or his expression.

  Gabriel shook his head. “You did this for me. For four hundred years you have deceived me. You prevented me from the kills, from turning. Why? Why would you risk your soul this way?”

  “I knew you had a lifemate waiting for you. Someone who would know told me many years ago, and I knew he would not tell an untruth. You did not lose your feelings and emotions quickly, as I did. It took centuries for it to happen to you. I was a mere fledging when they ceased for me. But you merged your mind with mine, and I could share your joy in life, see through your eyes. You made me remember what I could never have for myself.” Lucian staggered.

  Gabriel had been waiting for the moment when Lucian would weaken, and he took advantage, leaping to his brother’s side, sweeping his tongue across the gaping wound he had created to close it.

  His lifemate was at his side. Very gently she took Lucian’s hand in hers. “You think there is no more purpose to your existence.”

  Lucian closed his eyes tiredly. “I have hunted and killed for two thousand years, sister. My soul has so many pieces missing that it is like a sieve. If I do not go now, I may not go later, and my beloved brother would be forced to attempt to destroy me. It would be no easy task. He must remain safe. I have done my duty. Let me rest.”

  “There is another,” Francesca told him softly. “She is not like us. She is mortal. At this moment she is young and in terrible pain. I can only say to you, if you do not find her, she will live a life of such agony and despair, we cannot imagine it, even with all our great gifts. You must live for her. You must endure for her.”

  “You are telling me I have a lifemate?”

  “And that her need of you is great.”

  “I am no gentle man. I have killed for so long, I know of no other existence. Tying a mortal woman to me would be sentencing her to live with a monster.” Even as he made the denial, Lucian was not resisting as Gabriel’s lifemate began to work on his savage wound. Gabriel filled the room with beneficial herbs and began the ancient healing chant as old as time itself.

  “I will heal you now, my brother,” she said softly. “A monster such as you think you have become will be able to protect the woman from the monsters who would otherwise destroy one such as she.”

  Gabriel cut his wrist and pressed the wound to his twin’s mouth. “I offer my life freely for yours. Take what you need to heal. We will put you deep within the soil and guard you until you are at full strength.”

  “Your first duty is to your lifemate, Lucian,” Francesca reminded him softly. “You can do no other than find her and remove her from danger.”

  *****

  Jaxon, Five years old Florida, USA

  “Look at me, Uncle Tyler,” Jaxon Montgomery called proudly, waving from the top of the high wooden tower she had just climbed.

  “You’re crazy, Matt.” Russell Andrews shook his head, shading his eyes against the sun as he stared up at the replica of the high platform used for training Navy SEALS recruits. “Jaxx could break her neck if she fell.” He glanced away toward the fragile woman lying on the chaise lounge, cuddling her newborn son. “What about it, Rebecca? Jaxx isn’t even five yet, and Matt has her training for Special Forces,” Russell said.

  Rebecca Montgomery smiled absently and looked up at her husband as if asking his opinion.

  “Jaxon’s great,” Matt said immediately, reaching to capture his wife’s hand and bringing her knuckles to his lips. “She loves this stuff. She was doing it practically before she could walk.”

  Tyler Drake waved to the tiny girl calling to him. “I don’t know, Matt. Maybe Russell’s right. She’s so small. She takes after Rebecca in looks and build.” He grinned. “Of course, we were lucky in that department. The rest of her is all you. She’s a daredevil, a little fighter, just like her daddy.”

  “I’m not so certain that’s a good thing,” Russell said, frowning. He couldn’t take his eyes off the child. His heart was in his throat. His own little girl was seven years old, and he would never allow her near the tower his compatriots, Matt Montgomery and Tyler Drake, had constructed in Matt’s backyard. “You know, Matt, it’s possible to force a child to grow up too fast. Jaxon is still a baby.”

  Matt laughed. “That ‘baby’ can cook breakfast for her mother and serve it to her in bed

  and

  change diapers for the little one. She’s been reading since she was three. I mean, really reading. She loves physical challenges. There’s not much on the training course she can’t do. I’ve been teaching her martial arts, and Tyler has been working on survival training with her. She loves it.”

  Russell scowled. “I can’t believe you’re encouraging Matt, Tyler. He never listens to anyone but you. That child adores both of you, and neither of you has any sense where she’s concerned.” He manfully refrained from adding that Rebecca was a washout as a mother. “I hope to hell you don’t have her swimming in the ocean.”

  “Maybe Russell’s right, Matt.” Tyler sounded a bit worried. “Jaxon’s a little trouper with the heart of a lion, but maybe we push her too much. And I had no idea you were allowing her to cook for Rebecca. That could be dangerous.”

  “Someone has to do it.” Matt shrugged his wide shoulders. “Jaxon knows what she’s doing. When I’m not home, she knows very well she’s responsible for Rebecca’s care. And now we have little Mathew Jr. And just for your information, Jaxx is a good swimmer already.”

  “Are you listening to yourself, Matt?” Russell demanded. “Jaxon is a child, a five-year-old—a baby. Rebecca! For God’s sake, you’re her mother.” As usual, neither parent responded to anything they didn’t want to hear. Matt treated Rebecca like a porcelain doll. Neither paid much attention to their daughter. Exasperated, Russell appealed to Matt’s best friend. “Tyler, tell them.”

  Tyler nodded slowly in agreement. “You shouldn’t put so much pressure on her, Matt. Jaxon is an exceptional child, but she’s still a child.” His eyes were on the small girl waving and smiling. Without another word he got up and began striding toward the tower where the little girl was calling to him persistentl
y.

  *****

  Jaxon, Seven years old Florida, USA

  The screams coming from her mother’s room were horrible to hear. Rebecca was inconsolable. Bernice, Russell Andrews’s wife, had called the doctor to administer tranquilizers. Jaxx put her hands over her ears to try to muffle the terrible sounds of grief. Mathew Jr. had been crying for some time in his room, and it was obvious her mother was not going to go to her son. Jaxon wiped at the steady stream of tears falling from her own eyes, lifted her chin, and went across the hall to her brother’s room.

  “Don’t cry, Mattie,” she crooned softly, lovingly. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’m here now. Mommy is very upset about Daddy, but we can get through this if we stick together. You and me. We’ll get Mommy through it, too.”

  Uncle Tyler had come to their house with two other officers and informed Rebecca that her husband would never be coming home again. Something had gone terribly wrong on their last mission. Rebecca had not stopped screaming since.

  Jaxon, Eight years old

  “How is she today, honey?” Tyler asked softly, stooping to kiss Jaxon on the cheek. He laid a bouquet of flowers down on the table and turned his attention to the little girl he had loved since the day she was born.

  “She isn’t having a very good day,” Jaxon admitted reluctantly. She always told “Uncle Tyler” the truth about her mother, but no one else, not even “Uncle Russell.”

  “I think she took too many of those pills again. She won’t get out of bed, and when I try to tell her things about Mathew, she just stares at me. He’s finally stopped needing diapers, and I’m so proud of him, but she won’t say anything at all to him. If she does pick him up, she squeezes him so hard, he cries.”

  “I have something to ask you, Jaxx,” Uncle Tyler said. “It’s important you tell me the truth. Your mom is sick most of the time, and you have to take care of Mathew, manage the house, and go to school. I was thinking maybe I should move in and help out a little.”

  Jaxon’s eyes lit up. “Move in with us? How?”

  “I could marry your mother and be your father. Not like Matt, of course, but as your stepfather. I think it would help your mother, and I’d sure like to be here for you and little Mathew. But only if you want me, honey. Otherwise, I won’t even talk to Rebecca about it.”

  Jaxon smiled at him. “That’s why you brought the flowers, isn’t it? Do you think she’ll really do it? Is there a chance?”

  “I think I can persuade her. The only time you get a break around here is when I have you on our training course. You’re getting to be quite a marksman, too.”

  “Marks

  person,

  Uncle Tyler,” Jaxon corrected with a sudden teasing grin. “And the other night in karate class I kicked Don Jacobson’s butt.” The only time she found herself laughing anymore was when Uncle Tyler took her off to the Special Forces training area and they played soldier. Female or not, Jaxon was becoming someone to contend with, and it made her proud.

  *****

  Jaxon, Thirteen years old

  The book was a mystery and well suited to the stormy night. Tree branches were scratching the window, and rain drummed heavily on the roof. The first time she heard the noise, Jaxon thought it was her imagination, just because the book was so scary. Then she stiffened, and her heart began to pound. He was doing it again. She knew it. As quietly as possible, she crept out of bed and opened her door.

  The sounds coming from her mother’s bedroom were muffled, but she heard them all the same. Her mother was weeping, pleading. And there was the distinctive sound Jaxon knew so well. She had been in karate classes as long as she could remember. She knew what it sounded like when someone got punched. She ran along the hall to her brother’s room to check on him first. She was thankful he was sound asleep. When Tyler was like this, she hid Mathew from him. He seemed to hate Mathew at times. His eyes grew cold and ugly when they rested on the little boy, especially if Mathew happened to be crying. Tyler didn’t like it when anyone cried, and Mathew was little enough to cry over almost every tiny scratch or imagined hurt. Or every time Tyler glared at him.

  Taking a deep breath, Jaxon went to stand just outside her mother’s bedroom. She found it so hard to believe that Tyler could be the way he was with her mother and Mathew. She loved Tyler. She had always loved him. He spent hours training Jaxon like a soldier, and everything in her responded to the physical training. She loved the courses he set up to challenge her. She could climb nearly impassable cliffs and slither through minuscule tunnels in record time. She was in her element out on the range, firing weapons and fighting hand to hand. Jaxon could even track Tyler now, a feat most of those in his unit were unable to perform. She was especially proud of that. Tyler always seemed pleased with her and very warm and loving toward her. She had believed Tyler loved her family with the same fierce, protective loyalty she did. Now she was confused, wishing her mother was someone she could talk with, reason things out with. Jaxon was coming to realize that her stepfather’s easy charm hid his constant need to control his world and those in it. Rebecca and Mathew didn’t meet his standards of what they should be, and he made them pay dearly for it.

  Jaxon took a deep breath and quietly pushed the door open a crack. She stood perfectly still as Tyler had taught her to do in times of danger. Tyler had her mother pressed against a wall, one hand squeezing her throat. Rebecca’s eyes were bulging and wide with terror. “It was so easy to do, Rebecca. He always thought he was so good, no one could ever do him, but I did. And now I have you and his kids, just like I told him I would. I stood over him and watched the life go out of him, and I laughed. He knew what I would do to you—I made certain of that. You’ve always been so useless. I told him I would give you a chance, but you just couldn’t manage it, could you? He spoiled you just like your daddy did. Rebecca, the little princess. You always looked down on us. You always thought you were so much better than us just because you had all that money.” He leaned close so that his forehead was bumping Rebecca’s, and sprays of spit washed over her as he enunciated each word. “All your precious money would go to me now if anything happened to you, wouldn’t it?” He shook her like a rag doll, an easy thing to do, since Rebecca was such a small woman.

  At that moment, Jaxon knew that Tyler was going to kill Rebecca. He hated her, and he hated Mathew. Jaxon was bright enough to realize, even hearing something out of context, that Tyler had very likely murdered her father. Both of them were Navy SEALs and not easy to kill, but her father wouldn’t have been expecting his best friend to betray him.

  She could see her mother’s eyes trying desperately to warn her away. Rebecca was afraid for Jaxon, afraid if she interfered, Tyler would turn on her.

  “Daddy?” Deliberately Jaxon said the word softly into the menace-filled night. “Something woke me up. I had a bad dream. Will you sit up with me? You don’t mind, do you, Mommy?”

  It took a few moments before the tension seeped out of Tyler’s ramrod-stiff shoulders. His fingers slowly loosened from around Rebecca’s throat. Air rushed back into her lungs, yet she remained cowering against the wall, frozen with terror, trying to suppress the cough welling in her raw throat. Her gaze was still on Jaxon’s face, desperately, silently, trying to warn her daughter of the danger. Tyler was completely mad, a killer, and there was no escape from him. He had warned her what would happen if she tried to leave him, and Rebecca knew she didn’t have the strength to save them. Not even Mathew Jr.

  Jaxon smiled up at Tyler with childlike trust. “I’m sorry I disturbed you, but I really did hear something, and the dream was so real. When you’re with me, I always feel safe.” Her stomach was cramping, protesting the terrible lie; her palms were sweaty, yet she managed perfect, wide-eyed innocence.

  Tyler sent Rebecca a hard stare over his shoulder as he took Jaxon’s hand. “Go to bed, Rebecca. I’ll sit up with Jaxon. God knows

  you’ve

  never done it, not even when she was sick.” His ha
nd was strong, and she could still feel the tension in him, yet Jaxon could also feel the warmth he always exuded whenever they were together. Whatever had possessed her stepfather in those earlier moments seemed gone once was he was physically linked to Jaxon.

  In the two years that followed, Jaxon and Rebecca tried to hide their growing concern about Tyler’s mental state from Mathew Jr. They kept the child as far from Tyler as possible. The boy seemed to be some kind of catalyst, changing what once had been a loving man. Tyler often complained that Mathew was staring at him. Mathew learned to avert his gaze when Tyler was in the room.

  Tyler looked at the boy coldly, unemotionally, or with absolute hatred. He looked at Rebecca with a stranger’s eyes. Only Jaxon seemed able to connect to him, to keep him centered. It frightened her, that terrible responsibility. She could see the evil within “Uncle” Tyler growing ever stronger, and after a time her mother relied completely on Jaxon to cope with it. She stayed in her room, taking the pills Tyler supplied, ignoring her two children. When Jaxon tried to tell her that she was afraid Tyler would harm Mathew, Rebecca pulled the covers over her head and rocked back and forth, making a keening sound.

  Desperate, Jaxon tried to tell “Uncle Russell” and other members of Tyler’s team that something might be wrong with him. The men merely laughed and passed on what she had said to Tyler. He was so furious, Jaxon was certain he would kill the entire family. Although she was the one who had told, he placed the blame on Rebecca, repeating over and over that she had forced Jaxon to lie about him. He beat Rebecca so badly, Jaxon wanted to take her to the hospital, but Tyler refused. Rebecca remained in her bed for weeks and was confined to the house after that. Jaxon spent a great deal of her time creating a fantasy world for Tyler, pretending to believe that all was well in their home. She kept her brother far away from him and deflected his anger from her mother as much as possible. More and more she spent time with Tyler on the range, learning as much as she could about self-defense, weapons, hiding, and tracking. It was the only time she knew her mother and brother were truly safe. The other SEALs contributed readily to her training, and Tyler seemed normal at those times. Rebecca had retreated so far from the real world, Jaxon dared not take Mathew and run, as she would have had to leave her mother behind, and she was certain Tyler would kill Rebecca. Little Mathew and Jaxon had their own secret world they dared not share with anyone; they lived in constant fear.