Running Scared

“Mine,” was all Zach could manage to squeeze out past the tightness in his throat.



“Of course she is,” soothed Gilda. “May I touch her?”



A small pale hand reached toward Lexi. No threat. Just Gilda.



Zach relaxed his hold and gave Gilda a slight nod.



Angus stepped up beside her, a sword in his hands. Zach’s protective instincts rose up and a deep, warning growl filled his chest.



“Stay back, Angus,” said Gilda.



“You’re weak,” he replied, his tone sharp.



“I have no need of you now,” she said.



Angus’s body tensed as if he’d taken a physical blow, but he moved away, allowing Zach to pull in a full breath.



Gilda laid her hand on Lexi’s head, and a pale, watery light spilled out from under her palm. Lexi’s eyes snapped open and she reached up as if to brush Gilda’s hand away.



“That’s enough,” said Zach. “Stop!” His command was harsh and completely out of place. He heard the noises around him die down as if his outburst had drawn their attention.



Gilda moved her hand and shrank back into the dim hum of activity around Zach and Lexi. Zach didn’t bother to see what they were doing. He didn’t care. Nothing outside of the treasure he held in his arms had any meaning to him. The rest of the world could fall away and Zach wouldn’t miss it.



He had Lexi and he needed nothing else.



Chapter 26



It took Lexi a couple of days to regain her strength. She floated in and out of awareness, fighting the gray morass that tugged at her, sucking her away from reality into a world of chaotic dreams and hallucinations. During that time, there was one constant, one thing she knew was real and solid.



Zach.



He’d never once left her. Not even when the searing heat of the explosion had crowded around her, sucking the oxygen from her lungs. He was there, solid and strong, holding her inside the safety of his vast power, protecting her body.



He was still beside her, his strong body stretched out beside her, his arm looped across her chest with his palm splayed over her heart as if he were tracking her pulse.



Lexi levered herself up on the bed, knocking his thick arm into her lap. He woke instantly, his bloodshot eyes scanning her body, taking her in as he had the other times she’d resurfaced during the past few days. His chest was bare, and hundreds of pale, shiny leaves had sprung from the branches of his lifemark.



“You okay?” he asked, his voice a raw shred of sound.



She nodded, not trusting herself to speak past the arid tightness in her throat.



Zach reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a cup of water. He held the straw to her lips and she drank, feeling the cold of the water go all the way down. It felt good, but not nearly as good as it did to see Zach whole and safe beside her.



“Are you hungry?” he asked. “Need to use the bathroom?”



“No,” she said. “I just want to look at you.”



She scanned his face, so beautiful to her. Especially his eyes. They glowed with love. For her.



“I love you, Zach.”



His big body shuddered in pleasure and he wrapped his arms around her, surrounding her with his heat.



Lexi sighed in contentment, remembering the feel of his protective embrace as it shielded her from that explosion. “Thank you,” she said against his shoulder.



“For what?” he asked.



“For saving me.”



Zach pulled away, looking at her with an anguished expression of self-loathing. “I didn’t save you, honey, though I wished like hell I had. You did that all yourself.”



“No,” she said. “I felt you wrap your arms around me, shield me.”



He cupped her cheek and she leaned into the touch. “I wasn’t there. I’d just gotten free of the ropes, and I ran to you when that bomb went off.” He swallowed hard, then in an anguished tone said, “I wasn’t there for you.”



“You were there. Or your power was. It slid over my skin and held off the crushing weight, the heat.”



“You’re the only one who can use my power.”



She shook her head. “You’re wrong about that. I had no idea how to use it. And even if I did, you’re the one who supplied the power, the one who showed me what to do. I saw you in my head, holding me close and I was safe. As far as I’m concerned, that makes you my hero.”



“I’m not sure I agree, but you’re too weak for a good argument right now.”



He was right. She was weak, but she felt her strength returning more by the minute. “What happened to the man who was with you?”



“Neal is recovering, though the attack cost him dearly. He needs to find his lady fast or he’ll be out of time. The energy in that stun gun added to the power growing inside him in a way we had never considered.”



“I’m sorry, Zach. I’m sorry I brought all of this down on you.”



“He doesn’t blame you any more than I do. Neither do the others. You can’t control the actions of the Defenders.”



“What happened to them?” she asked, not sure she wanted to know.



“Several of our men had a nice, long talk with them. I don’t think they’ll bother us anymore. I know Hector won’t. Joseph took him into custody to answer for the crimes of those he led.”



“What will they do to him?”



“One of the Sanginar will put a peace binding on him. Then they’ll let him go.” Zach didn’t sound happy about that last part.



“What’s a peace binding?”



“It’s a way of keeping someone from choosing to harm us. Anytime he tries to hurt us, it will make him hurt instead. It’s usually nonlethal, effective, and much better than he deserves. He should be executed for what he did to you.”



Lexi shrugged. “Let it go. He’s not worth our time. Except, maybe just enough to see how he reacts to that peace binding thing. I’d like to see that.”



Zach’s grin was feral. “I’ll make sure you get to, honey.”



She stifled a yawn. “With Hector out of the picture, the Defenders will need a new leader—someone who’s willing to help us fight the Synestryn. Maybe we can convince Jake to take the job.”



“Why him?”



“He’s nothing like his father. He’s reasonable and kind. I’d like to talk to him, bring him here, let him see what I have.”



Zach’s mouth tightened. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”



“We might be able to make him and the rest of the Defenders an ally. They’re already out there. They know about the monsters. We might as well use their eyes and ears. Besides, most of them are proud men. Allowing them to help us may be the only chance we have to protect them.”



“We’ll talk to Joseph about it when you’re better to see if he’ll allow it.”



“I’ve been on my own a long time. I’m not going to start asking permission to talk to people. I’ll damn well talk to who I want, when I want.”



Zach gave her a lopsided grin. “Your chin’s back up.”



“What?” she asked.



He tapped her chin with his forefinger. “Whenever you get stubborn about something, really dig in your heels, your chin goes up.”



She thrust it higher, making him laugh. The joyful sound floated over her, easing her body’s aches, mending the bruises on her spirit caused by suffering through all that fear. It was going to take her a while to get over a scare like that, but she knew Zach would be with her, helping her through.



Lucien gritted his teeth against the pain of traveling to Earth. Steam rose from his skin and held his concentration until the shimmering gate closed behind him.



The Sentinel Stone was cool and solid under his fingers, its detailed carvings biting into his side as his weight slumped against it.



As the last light of the portal faded, Lucien let go and slid to the soft grass at his feet.



It was night here, of course. They could only come here at night. Sunlight bowed to the Solarc’s command, and would give away the trespass of an errant son like him as surely as if they were standing in the same room. Only careful calculation and planning would ensure that none of the men who traveled here as Lucien did would fall under the Solarc’s gaze.



As Lucien’s senses began working again, he drew in the scent of dust and freshly trimmed grass. He heard voices in the distance, though whether they were human or Sentinel he couldn’t say. The sky was dark, the stars hidden by the nearby glow of human lighting.



Lucien squinted to sharpen his focus and recognized the strong lines of Dabyr looming only a few yards away.



His calculations had been right. He’d ported through the right Sentinel Stone. Now all he had to do was find out exactly when he’d arrived.



Those voices rose higher, the guttural English words stabbing at his sore ears. Lucien pushed himself to his feet in time to see a throng of armed Theronai headed right for him.



Knowing this could end badly for all involved, Lucien held up his hands, showing them naked of weapons.



The men gathered around, their swords shining bright under the light of the single moon. “Who are you?” demanded the man in front. He had a weathered face and bright blue eyes shadowed with sorrow.



“I am Prince Lucien, son of the Solarc,” he said, his mouth clumsy around the sharp edges of their language.



An overabundance of suspicious eyes narrowed at him.



“How did you get in?” asked the man.



“I ported in through the Sentinel Stone.”



The bodies of the men parted, allowing a woman to pass. She had long black hair and wore a gray gown. Though she was small, her presence filled the open space as her black eyes fell upon him. The luceria around her throat shimmered, marking her as one of his father’s creation.



Lucien bowed his head. “My lady,” he said, imbuing his tone with respect.



The man who had been speaking to Lucien took a protective step nearer the woman, obviously her mate.



“Why are you here?” she demanded.



Too many reasons to name, so Lucien focused on the one foremost in his mind. “I sensed my daughters were here. I had hoped to set eyes on them.”



The woman’s lips parted in shock. “Daughters?”



“Yes. Are they here?” Lucien asked.



“I am Gilda, the Gray Lady,” said the woman. “If your daughters are here, you may see them. What are their names?”



The strange, human names fell easily from his lips though he’d never spoken them aloud in his own home for fear of his father hearing. “Jackie, Helen and Alexandra.”



A feminine gasp rose up from the back of the group, and a woman stepped forward. Her hair lay in twin plaits over her shoulders and the gentle curve of her cheek, so much like her mother’s, made his fingers itch to reach out and touch her to see if she was real. The luceria at her throat was a rich, fiery red.



Lucien had never set eyes on her before, but he knew in an instant that she was of his blood. His daughter.



“I’m Helen,” she said, her soft voice wavering with emotion.



Lucien lurched forward, his body clumsy from the physical toll his travel had taken.