Carpathian 09 - Dark Guardian

anything to happen to him. To Jaxon, it was that simple. She would not let him be hurt for any reason, least of all on her account.
    Her bedroom opened out into a long, wide landing with a sweeping staircase on either end. The carpets were thick and looked brand new. Every detail about the house looked ideal. Jaxon noticed it all because it was so perfect, as if Lucian had lovingly brought in every item personally. Each painting, each sculpture, the wall paper and carpets and stained glass—it was everything she had ever dreamed of, right down to her preference in antique furniture.
    Jaxon went by it all silently, her bare feet making no sound as she began her descent down the stairs.
    Halfway down, she spotted an alcove cut into the wall, an ornate glass door leading to a small balcony.
    She opened the door, taking great care to do so in complete silence. At once the rain drenched her, the wind so cold she began to tremble. She barely noticed. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness, seeking her target.
    At first she could see nothing. A jagged bolt of lightning arced across the sky, lighting the courtyard below. She could see Lucian standing completely motionless in the very center of the immense patio.
    Several yards away from him a second figure cloaked in along black cape stood in deeper shadows. She found that her eyes seemed to adjust quickly to the lack of light, giving her excellent night vision, and her acute hearing, new and odd to her, picked up the strange conversation between the two men.
    Lucian's voice was even more beautiful than usual, pitched low and with a velvet purity that crept beneath the skin and seeped into the mind. "I can do no other than oblige you, Henrique," he said, "when you have come so far to call on me with so blatant a challenge."
    "I did not know it was you, Lucian." The second voice was a horrible, scratchy noise that grated like fingernails on a chalkboard. "You have been thought dead these last five centuries. Indeed, it was believed you had joined our ranks."
    The figure turned, and Jaxon could see him perfectly. The sight was horrifying. His head was a mere gray, pitted, bullet-shaped skull, with a few strands of long hair straggling across the top. His eyes glowed crimson, and his nose was no more than a gaping hole. His gums were receded, his teeth jagged and stained. When the creature lifted a hand, his long nails were like talons. He looked hideous.
    Jaxon wanted to cry out a warning to Lucian. The stranger tried to sound ingratiating, but she could feel the strong waves of hatred radiating from him. Deep inside where she knew things others didn't, she knew the monster facing Lucian had every intention of attacking him at the first opportunity.
    "The trouble with listening to gossip, Henrique, is that it can be so completely wrong. I am the dispenser of justice for our people. I have always been loyal to our Prince and always will be. You have chosen to break our Carpathian laws and those of all mankind."
    Lucian's voice was so beautiful, Jaxon felt completely caught up in it. She had to shake her head several times to keep her mind on what was important. The biting cold helped considerably, as did the driving rain. She sighted down the barrel of her gun, the weapon rock steady in her hands. She was going for a head shot, taking no chance that the stranger might be concealing a weapon of his own.
    Henrique began to move slowly, his feet weaving a strange pattern on the cobblestones in the courtyard.
    He looked like a stick figure, ugly and evil, something out of a horror film. Lucian seemed not to turn, yet Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    he remained facing Henrique at all times. Jaxon found the movement of the stranger's feet fascinating. She leaned farther out over the wrought-iron railing in order to see better. The rain plastered her shaggy mop of hair to her head. Raindrops hung on her long eyelashes, and the wind blew water into her eyes. But once more the weather served to help Jaxon free herself from the strange enthrallment the stranger's movements produced in her. The gun was once more aimed steadily on the stranger's head. Should he make a move, he would not have the time to hurt Lucian.
    Without warning the stranger's tall, thin frame contorted. Jaxon fought back a scream as the man became an animal, a wild wolf, patched and maned, sharp fangs filling the jaw thrusting straight at Lucian.
    Powerful hind legs dug