* * *
“Shh,” Lucan soothed as he stroked Chloe’s long hair. “What troubles you?” Her trembling was enough to unsettle the most seasoned warrior. She shook so violently, he thought for a moment she might crumble to ash. He tightened his embrace and tucked his head into the crook of her shoulder to stifle the tremors. “Easy, Chloe, I am here,” he murmured into her hair.
“Someone … broke in…”
The rest of her words trailed off with the shake of her head, but he did not need to hear them. Fighting back a fierce rush of protectiveness, he sidestepped out of her tight hold and tucked his arm around her shoulders to better escort her to the couch. There, he eased her coat off and guided her to sit beside him. He wrapped her in a gentle embrace and welcomed the way she burrowed into his chest.
For several long minutes he did naught more than hold her close and stroke her back. Life had not exposed him to this aspect of intimacy, this role of silent strength he had been thrust into, yet he found it agreeable. ’Twas oddly satisfying to absorb her tears, still the shaking of her body, and say naught at all.
But as her trembles gave way to the faint twitch of exhausted slumber, he nudged her upright. “You cannot sleep yet,” he apologized softly. “We must deal with your room. Sit, and I shall inform the desk to call the gendarme.”
“No, that’s not necessary.” Her gaze darted to the window, and she twisted her hands in her lap. “They were after the relic, which they didn’t find.”
Lucan lifted an eyebrow. She should desire the police. In particular if she suspected someone wanted the Veil. That she hesitated brought his thoughts immediately back to the dark presence that hounded her. In an attempt to gain answers, he urged her toward the logical. “You do not want the gendarmerie to document the break-in? What if you are missing something else?”
Chloe shook her head as she slipped completely from his arms. “No. If I involve the inspectors, the story will gain publicity. It’ll give more people reason to suspect we’re on to something significant in Ornes, and then I’ll have to worry about security at the site and increasing the odds of another break-in.” She ran her fingers through her hair and rubbed her arms to ward off a chill. “Just come back with me and help me clean up a bit?”
Decent logic, but not sound enough. She held some piece of information back. Something that would make it plain why she found the idea of the inspectors unimportant. He would play her game. Discover for himself.
Lucan reached for the phone. “I will ask Caradoc to meet us there. Lest you object?”
“No, that’s fine. I’m not sure what he can do, but that’s fine.”
He punched in the number, waited for Caradoc to answer. “’Tis I. Chloe’s room was vandalized. Meet us there?”
“By whom?”
“I do not know. She suspects they desired the Veronica. I am taking her up to inspect it now.”
“Is she harmed?”
He looked to her, picked up her hand, and ran his thumb over the meaty part of her palm. “Scared. But safe.” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.
She returned the gesture with a faint smile.
“Aye, I will be there momentarily.” He clicked off without delay.
Lucan rose to his feet, pulling Chloe along with him. She moved at a slower pace, as if the night had finally sucked the last ounce of energy from her bones. Defeat touched the corners of her eyes. Because she had been violated? Or because she had been punished for failing to deliver the Veronica?
He gave himself a mental shake. ’Twas not the time to question. She needed his aid, not his suspicion.
When she reached once more for her coat, he pulled it out of her hands. “Leave it for now.”
Like a puppet controlled by strings, she nodded. No argument. No hesitation. So very unlike the stubborn woman he had come to know. It pained him to see her so.
With an inward sigh, he acknowledged ’twas naught he could do to restore her usual brightness and picked up his sword, expecting her to comment on the weapon. She said naught, did not even seem to notice as he belted it around his waist. In truth, her very demeanor suggested her mind was somewhere else, far from this room and the prospect of returning to hers.
Clutching her hand, he led her from his room. She tensed the moment they entered the hall. Frowning, Lucan hesitated. “Would you wish to stay within and have me bring something down for you?”
She gave a slight shake of her head and took a step toward the stairs. “I’ll be fine. Let’s just get this over with. I’ll feel better with my room picked up and everything in its place.”
He did not speak another word until they met Caradoc at her partly open door. The presence of demons hung thick like a low fog on a deserted country lane. In the air, the faint scent of decay lingered. He met Caradoc’s knowing gaze that communicated he too sensed Azazel’s nearness.
Instinct bade Lucan to protect Chloe, and he ushered her behind his back where if something lurked within, she would be safe from attack. One hand on the hilt of his sword, he followed Caradoc inside.
A quick survey of the chamber told him no demons waited, and he dropped his hand, along with hers. Chloe knelt before the scattered papers on the white rug. Uncertain what to do or how to aid, Lucan crossed to the crooked bed and scooted it perpendicular to the wall.
“Are you missing anything, Chloe?” Caradoc asked as he poked his head inside her bathroom.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” She let out a hard breath that stirred the hair gathered around her face. Then, as if witnessing the mess took too great a toll, her shoulders bowed and she hid her face in her hands.
Silently, Lucan knelt at her side to pick up where she had left off on her chore. How he ached to comfort her, but he had learned enough about Chloe to realize she would not want Caradoc to witness this weakness. Her pride would take a horrific blow. Instead, he lowered his voice to avoid drawing Caradoc’s attention to her distress. “Sit on the couch. We will do this.”
“No.” Sighing, she dragged her hands down her face. “I’ll be fine. There’s just so much to do.”
Caradoc crossed the room and righted a toppled lamp. “Why do you think they wanted the Veronica? Does anyone possess a key to your door? Or know you possess the relic?”
As Lucan passed Chloe the stack of papers he had gathered, the color drained from her face. “Look at the safe,” she whispered.
He looked beyond her shoulder to the far corner where the steel box sat. In that instant, Lucan understood why she did not want the authorities involved. The jagged claw marks that gouged the three-inch-thick door explained the lingering stench. She could not possibly misconstrue them.
Caradoc, however, missed her reaction and addressed the situation as if she were an uninformed mortal. “A fine axe blow.”
Chloe reared back. “Axe? I don’t know what kind of axes you’ve been using lately, but the ones I’ve seen don’t leave that behind.”
Her remark sealed Lucan’s observation—she did indeed know something unnatural put the marks in the safe. But the why refused to show itself. Why did she know—did she suspect from the nature of the scars, or did she witness Azazel’s attack, or did she even possess the forewarning his strike would occur?
Was she in fact baiting them mayhap?
“Tell me what happened, Chloe,” he demanded a bit more harshly than he intended.
She blinked as if she found the question absurd. “I came up here, let myself in, and this is what I found.”
“Your door was not ajar?” Bent over the safe, Caradoc inspected the damage.
“No. It was locked. And no one has a key.” More quietly she added, “There’s no one to give a key to.”
“Not Julian?” Lucan asked.
She let out a soft laugh. “Hardly. I love my brother, but I also love my space. If he had a key, he’d be hanging out every minute he’s not chasing women.”
Caradoc read Lucan’s mind and went to the window to inspect it for en
try. On finding naught of significance, he drew away from the drawn curtains. “They had to come through the door. Who knows about the relic?”
“Just the team and the three of you.”
Lucan abruptly stood. If ’twas the Veronica they sought, they would continue the hunt. The team knew he had taken the relic from the site. Chloe could well be staging a diversion to purchase the time necessary to break into his room.
“Come. ’Tis naught we can do here tonight. We shall finish righting your room on the morrow.” He reached his hand out for hers.
She stared at his palm as if he had suddenly grown three extra fingers. A glimpse of her spirit broke through. “I can’t go with you. I want my bed, my belongings. I need to shower, I’ve got reports to write—there’s no way.”
Folding his arms over his chest, Lucan met her wide eyes with a severe frown. “Nay. You will not stay here tonight.”
To his immense relief, Caradoc slipped outside leaving them to argue in private. The door clicked closed behind him. Still kneeling, Chloe mirrored Lucan’s position. “I will stay here. This is my room. They won’t come back. They already know there’s nothing in here; I don’t have what they want. Besides, what would everyone think if I came waltzing out of yours in the morning?” When she glanced up at him, her brave words were shadowed by the fear that shone in her eyes. Clearly she did not mean what she said, but her stubbornness eluded him.
Mayhap she feared the acceptance of his invitation more—after the way she had run out of his room, he would not be surprised. “It matters little what others should think. ’Tis unsafe for you to remain here. If you wish to change your room on the morrow, then I will aid you. But tonight you will stay with me.”
Her eyes glittered bright. “That’s very convenient for you, isn’t it?”
A spark of anger lit, threatening to push him into full temper. He had not offered out of selfishness. Had not even fully considered she would be near to him beyond the immediate matter of her safety. Her insinuation affronted his honor, and slights to such had warranted death for many men.
Moreover, it added strength to his suspicion she argued not the idea of leaving her room, but staying with him. Ridiculous, when he could protect her better than any wall or locked door. Lucan reigned in his rising anger. “I will not argue this with you, Chloe. Lest you wish me to carry you from this room, you will gather your belongings and cease your protests.”
Her eyes clashed with his, and he prepared himself to prove his words. Regardless of her involvement with the break-in, he would not jeopardize her safety by leaving her here unattended. And he could not leave his own room empty all night either. Although indeed, he could gather the relic and bring it here, and further camp himself upon her couch, he could not justify the unnecessary effort. He also suspected that if he were to leave, she would not allow him entrance again tonight.
But Chloe must have sensed his resolve, for as she glanced around her room, the anger fled from her expression. Though she did not look pleased with the prospect, and her words came as if they required great effort, she admitted, “I guess staying here would be rather stupid.”
He refrained from comment, certain his affirmation would only reignite her ire. Instead, he picked up her pillow and shook it free from the case. He offered the soft white linen to her. “This will serve to hold your things. Tell me how I may help.”
She pushed the pillowcase aside, refusing it as she rose to her feet. “I’ll come back in the morning. I only need a couple of things.”
He waited by the door whilst she went about collecting a small red satchel from the open nightstand drawer, a vinyl bag from the bathroom, and the most alluring short sleeping gown he had ever witnessed.
Just how close she would be through the night slammed into his consciousness. He was too large for the small couch in his room, which meant they would share his bed. And she would lie within arms’ distance, dressed in that tantalizing bit of satin.
CHAPTER 18
Chloe stood in Lucan’s bathroom, staring at her reflection. Shyness wasn’t typically part of her makeup. But faced with the prospect of walking into the room where Lucan waited, a man she’d known less than a week, dressed only in her nightgown, left her more than a little self-conscious. She needed a few more inches to the hemline, a little more height to the neck. Long sleeves would go a long way too, as opposed to straps that weren’t much wider than a tank top’s and twice as loose.
For that matter, she wished she’d abandoned the personal luxury of spoiling herself when it came to sleep and adopted the habit of long pants and T-shirts. She wouldn’t feel so … obvious. Like she’d picked this gown because she was sharing his room, when in reality, this was the most modest one she owned.
Damn.
She took the towel to her hair one last time and squeezed out the long lengths. At least with wet hair she didn’t create the picture of seduction.
Despite her awkwardness, she couldn’t deny he’d been right, and her earlier argument still embarrassed her. Staying in her room would have been stupid. Between the break-in and the episode at the window, she couldn’t delude herself any longer. She wasn’t safe. Wouldn’t be until she figured out how to get rid of the demons. Permanently.
She only hoped they’d stay away tonight. That Lucan’s presence would somehow hold them off. His protection, the safety she felt when he was near, was the only reason she hadn’t insisted on getting another room altogether.
With a deep, fortifying breath, she looked in the mirror at the back of the door. When she’d entered the shower, the sound of the television drifted through the barrier. Now, quiet reigned beyond. Maybe he’d fallen asleep. If he had, she could climb under the covers and ignore her current state of undress.
Asleep or not, she couldn’t procrastinate any longer. Already, she’d hidden away for almost an hour. You’re here because it’s not safe to be alone.
With the reminder to herself, she turned around and opened the door on the darkened room. Her gaze jumped to the bed. When she found Lucan there, not asleep but reading a magazine beneath the dim light of his bedside lamp, her stomach rolled into a knot. Propped against the pillows, legs stretched beneath the covers, the sight of him stifled her ability to breathe. His bare chest held more strength than she’d ever imagined. Thick corded muscles spanned across smooth, broad shoulders. A thin line of dark hair dusted between defined pectorals, then trailed over tight abs to disappear beneath the down comforter. He looked up, sending his long hair tumbling over his shoulders, and his gaze locked with hers.
A strange, unexpected thrill tripped down her spine at the bright appreciation that gleamed in his eyes. He took her in from head to toe with one quick, roaming glance, and a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Tipping his head to the side, he indicated the nightstand against the empty side of the bed. “I made you a cup of tea. I thought it might help you relax.”
Under other circumstances, it would. But with such a splendid specimen of male beauty in the bed beside her, she’d be lucky to even choke it down. The thoughtful gesture, however, set off a tightening in her chest. “Thank you,” she murmured.
With courage she didn’t feel, she approached the bed, turned down the covers, and slid beneath. When she pulled the comforter up to her belly, she breathed a little easier. But as she reached for the steaming mug, she caught sight of her red bag on the coffee table several feet away. No way could she attempt sleep with it out of reach. The minute the lights went out she’d never be able to find it.
Annoyed with her forgetfulness, she tossed the covers aside and retrieved the tiny sack. Setting it on the table, she returned to the bed, tea in hand.
Her skin prickled with the heavy weight of Lucan’s gaze. She drank from her mug, desperate to ignore the enticing scent of spice that wafted off his skin. Try as she might, however, he was simply too close to ignore. If she bent her knee, she’d touch his thigh. If she reached to adjust her pillow, her elbow would graze his thick bicep
. Too much for her already strained senses.
Lucan tossed his magazine aside and scooted deeper beneath the covers. Twisting onto his side, he propped his head in his hand. “If you require sugar—”
“No, no. This is perfect.” She took another drink to stop her hand from falling atop his where it rested between them.
He gave her another grin before he rolled onto his back and folded his arms beneath his head. “You are still angry with me?”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Why would you think that? I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You are quiet. Your smile has disappeared.”
A wave of warmth slid over her skin. He noticed the smallest things. Little things no one else would ever observe. He paid attention, more so than any man she’d ever known, including her brother, who prided himself on his ability to relate to women. “No,” she answered quietly. “I’m not angry with you. It’s just been a long day.”
Like so many others.
Chloe set her mug aside, the last of her emotional energy having drained from her body. Escape lay in the man beside her. Freedom from the night, the demons, and the confusing collision of thoughts inside her head. She slid onto her side and tucked a hand beneath her cheek, facing him. As if he waited for her signal, he turned off the light. Darkness engulfed them, brightened only by the faint shine of the moon behind his tightly drawn curtains.
She took a deep breath and swallowed down a moment of awkwardness. “I’m sorry for arguing with you in my room. Thank you for letting me stay here.”
He rolled over, his expression soft. Dropping his arm between their bodies, he covered the back of her hand with his palm. “Rest,” he whispered. “You are safe with me.”
What she would give for that to be true. If only he could fulfill that promise. She’d trade the rest of her lifetime for one full, uninterrupted night of sleep. For dreams that didn’t wake her with nameless, faceless ghouls. If Lucan could take all those nightmares away, she’d never again question his intentions. Even if he vanished with morning’s light, she’d treasure him for a lifetime.
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