by Sue Wilder
But the last photograph Phillipe laid out had narrowed the choices down to one.
He would have to go.
He would have to take her with him.
It would be impossible to leave her alone no matter how angry he felt. Whatever she’d done in the past, she didn’t deserve what Kace would do if he found her again.
The plane skimmed the tops of the trees and landed with a little bump, but it always did. Christan looked down at his clenched right hand, forcing himself back under control. The pilot slowed to a stop at the end of the grass and then taxied back toward the lodge.
As Christan jogged down the metal steps, the last rays of the blood-orange sun were fading from the sky. A storm gathered in a purple smudge, crowding the horizon. He tipped his head back. To return to the quiet of this wilderness was to return to a freedom he could not indulge. The need to shift and run was unbearable. But there was business to discuss, a girl missing in Florence. And an Enforcer he would soon need to kill.
“How was the meeting?” Arsen’s voice was quiet, but curious in his mind.
Christan answered telepathically. “Three has concerns. She sends us a thumb drive with her files.”
Arsen appeared beside him. Together, they walked away from the compound and into the hills where tall pines blocked out the sky. The path was more of an animal track through the grass and fern and led to a high vantage point. From one direction, it was possible to stand in an alpine meadow and see desolate Indian Country. In another direction, the jagged brown hills extended past Hells Canyon and into Idaho. Arsen walked ahead as they crossed a small creek and approached a grove of sharply scented pines. Beneath were the pale blue shadows of advancing twilight.
“It’s peaceful here,” Christan remarked after a moment, glancing toward the horizon. “I like the quiet.”
“An odd observation from you.”
“The world hasn’t changed.”
“You mean Three hasn’t changed.”
“As manipulative as ever.”
“You were always the avenger, Christan. Three might have identified the targets, but you never walked away when innocents were involved.”
“She asks for more.”
Christan remained silent when Arsen picked up a small stone, tossing it up and down in his palm before skimming it across the silvered creek.
“The first time I met you,” Arsen said, “before we became friends, I was in Lanzhou. We heard the rumors. A Calata member wanted an Enforcer to take him to the battle, but we knew it was more. I had to see for myself.”
Christan said nothing, staring instead at the smudge on the horizon that was now rimmed in dark blue.
“I remember thinking how arrogant you were,” Arsen continued. “I thought this guy is finally gonna get his ass kicked. And then you turned your back on Six and walked away. It was like you were impervious to anything he could do.”
Arsen picked up another stone, skimmed it across the water. The stone bounced twice and disappeared.
“I realized then that you understood power in a way no one else did. It was something I’ve never forgotten, how you held yourself separate, out of their reach. Six thought he’d won when he forced you to shift, but that dragon was on your terms. You gave him what he wanted, without giving him the most important thing. The ability you have to control your destiny.”
The story was an old one, told around too many battle fires in the middle of endless nights. It might have been who Christan was then. It wasn’t who he was now.
Arsen skimmed another stone, comfortable in the silence. Christan continued to stare at the horizon. The sun had dropped completely behind the gathering storm while the sky above was streaked with lavender and orange.
“She sent a file,” Christan said finally, looking at his second-in-command. “There’s a missing girl we need to find.”
“Someone we should care about?”
Christan nodded; once Arsen read the details in the file he’d figure it out. “She was last seen in Florence.”
“Your villa is still there. The caretakers have been loyal and don’t ask questions. When will you go?”
“Soon. You’ll want to be there.”
Arsen didn’t react. Perhaps he’d already guessed. “Anyone else?”
“It’s not settled yet.”
In the distance, a small figure jogged into view. She ran along the rim trail, sleek and balanced, reminding Christan so much of Gaia he stiffened. She was following the eight-mile path from the main lodge, out to the lake and back. There was a shortcut, but she preferred to push herself with the longer run. He lost her periodically when she disappeared into the trees.
“Is she still researching?” he asked.
“Ethan’s been planting clues. He didn’t expect her to catch on that quickly, but she did and now it’s their little game. She hasn’t done anything incriminating, no attempts to contact Kace, either through his sham business or other avenues. She spends a lot of time looking at an email account that never receives mail and studying photos of Cyrene.”
“You’ve been working with her,” Christan observed without expression, although it took more effort than he cared to admit.
“She wants to learn to fight.”
“Is she any good?”
“She’s in better shape than you think. Nice muscle tone, moves like a dancer. Put me on my ass today.” The figure disappeared behind a grove of purple pines and reappeared again. “She’s not Gemma.”
“I know that.” But he couldn’t separate them in his mind.
“Maybe you misjudged her,” Arsen said after a moment.
“Your point being?”
“You never got the truth that night. But even if you’re right and she did everything you believe she did, Lexi isn’t Gemma.”
“Says the man who’s had the same fight with the same woman over how many centuries?”
“We’re not talking about my woman, we’re talking about yours. You gave her that one word.”
“And she used it.”
“Because you terrified her. That’s not like you, Christan, going into her mind so aggressively. Did the Void do more damage than you’ve let on?”
“I’m fine.”
“Then why try to twist her emotions?”
“She worked for him, was there in Montana. She was with him in the rocks.”
“She didn’t know who he was then, and she does now.”
“I can’t trust her.”
“You haven’t tried.”
“She’s too much like Gemma.”
“Different girl,” Arsen said. “Different life.”
“She’s stubborn, difficult. Completely unreasonable.”
“And now you’re just looking for excuses.”
“For what?”
“To keep hating her.”
The distant figure disappeared into the growing mist.
CHAPTER 16
Twenty minutes later, Christan lay prone on the rock. He’d been unsettled after his talk with Arsen and the rock was his favorite place to meditate. His massive bulk was relaxed, yet every nerve alert. He was most at home as a predator. He could think more clearly, without the distraction of human emotion, and while most warriors would shift for a few hours, he could remain in an alternative form for an entire day.
When Christan did shift, it was into any animal he desired. But he preferred the big cat known as the puma—the American panther. The size he utilized was larger than the natural species; his five-foot body was currently sprawled across the boulder, while the long tail, tipped in dark brown, extended another three feet. His eyes remained obsidian but surrounded with gold, distinctly cat-like. His body was the color of the dusk, his stillness the calculation of the hunter.
And he watched her.
She didn’t see him, but she suspected he was there. The closer she got to his position the more frequently she stopped, glanced carefully around, and then bent to press both hands into the ground. If she sensed anyth
ing at all, it would seem like the normal environment. Christan was masking his energy, from both friend and foe alike. But it was foolish to be out at dusk—surely Arsen had warned of the dangers. And yet here she was, stubbornly jogging alone.
It irritated him.
But this woman had always been stubborn, in every lifetime. He growled deep in his throat while the tip of his tail flicked. When she’d been Gaia she took life as it came; she’d been straightforward and honest, accepting the life that he lived. It was only through the next lifetimes that she began to mistrust who he was.
Christan understood the essential difference; during that first life, humans believed in the unseen powers affecting the direction of their lives. But the human world changed with each century until gods and their magic were feared. Christan kept his secrets and he was not the only one; no warrior risked telling the lovers the truth. But perhaps none had experienced the disastrous results that he had.
An image came to mind of when she’d been Gemma. He saw the same winter light in her hair. Remembered the way her body had been silhouetted by the firelight. The thin cotton shift that flowed when she walked, barefoot, across the red-tiled floor.
Christan hadn’t told her he was leaving—hadn’t wanted the fight. He’d been gone so much as it was, fulfilling the terms of the Agreement used against him by a vengeful Calata. Instead he’d taken her by the hand, tugged her into a chapel scented with incense and candle wax, and married her before a warrior priest who knew how to keep secrets. He’d made love to her on a bed with white linens, and in that dark hour before dawn, he’d walked silently out the door. When she woke, he had been gone.
He’d believed marriage would be enough. He wanted to bind her to him, let her know she was his. He had miscalculated. Monumentally.
Christan shifted his weight, stretched his paws forward and felt the claws extend. When he drew them back they scored the surface of the rock, scattered the rusty pine needles that collected in the crevices. Even in predator form he realized how harsh he’d been in Gemma’s lifetime, leaving her that way. He’d been harsh again, when he entered Lexi’s mind two weeks ago and dug into her memories. Harsh when he dealt with the man who killed her cat—so harsh even Phillipe had commented, and the immortal could be more brutal than the Enforcers. Arsen said he wasn’t giving her a chance. That he looked for reasons to hate her.
Perhaps he did.
But there was still no fucking way he would ever need her. Not the way he’d needed her all those centuries ago and she’d walked away. He’d severed the connection, knew she had, too, after she’d pushed that one word back into his head. They’d both spent centuries fighting over something they never really possessed beyond that first life.
The evening grew quiet. Christan watched as she straightened and stretched out her back. He stood slowly and shifted his weight forward. With a sinuous, lethal movement he disappeared into the shadows of dusk.
Lexi jogged up the slight incline. The sun had dropped below the horizon and she paused, glanced around at the mix of shadows beside the path, then stared deep into the sparse undergrowth beneath the pines. On instinct, she crouched down and pressed her palms to the warm earth. Small animals were scurrying for cover. Somewhere in the distance a large predator was on the prowl, dangerous after sundown. Arsen had warned her, said she’d need an escort when she ran—in daylight as well as the evening. But tonight, everyone was busy and she’d been unaccountably restless; she took the risk to go on her own.
She was at the top of the ridge where the path branched off in two directions, one leading around the lake while the other turned back toward the lodge. Lexi was in the mood for the longer run, but abruptly, an animal leapt down from one of the large boulders lining the trail. The predator was half-hidden in the purple light, and with three slow steps he blocked the path.
The animal was magnificent, primal, a mountain lion so sleekly lethal Lexi took a step back. There was fierceness in the muscles beneath the tawny pelt and a feral heat in his eyes. The last time Lexi had encountered a cat she thought it was a warrior—and it had been a damn cat. This could be an actual predator, hunting in his territory. Arsen had told her about the pumas. They were small compared to the African great cats but they were the deadliest predators on the continent. Stealth was their greatest asset. An adult male could take down a jogger as easily as an elk, drag the body up into the trees, and “no one would know until the crows made too much noise.” It had been part of Arsen’s cautionary tale about why she shouldn’t jog alone.
Lexi took another step back. Hesitated. Something familiar and untamed was moving sharply against her skin.
She tipped her head to one side, considering it.
The predator watched her. She felt his energy swell and roll forcefully beneath the ground. Her heart jumped.
“I know it’s you,” she said, holding out her hand. “This is a peaceful place. Don’t ruin it for me.”
The energy increased. Lexi braced, but the aggression evaporated into what felt like a shudder of indecision. Her legs buckled. She sank to her knees, slid sideways and sat on the ground.
The cat watched, then slowly mirrored her position, shifting his paws and lowering the massive body until he was stretched out to his full length. The tail gave one irritated flick. Lexi noticed the tip wasn’t tawny like the coat but dipped in charcoal brown, almost black. A whisker twitched above the cat-gold eyes. When the scent of wild oranges filled the air, she recognized the mental intrusion.
Lexi reached for Arsen’s technique, found the door in her mind and slammed it shut. “Stop it.”
The tail flicked with aggression. Lexi tensed, pulled her knees against her chest and closed her eyes. The loneliness was crushing.
“This isn’t fair,” she said. “I don’t remember anything about you, and yet you know enough to judge me.” Silence. She looked at the cat over her bent knees. “Don’t you think that’s unfair?”
A few crickets began an early chirp. Lexi took that as permission to continue her argument.
“You probably remember my worst moments, know if I snore.” Still no reaction. “Probably saw me naked.”
The cat made a chuffing sound and Lexi flicked her hand out, brushing the implication aside.
“Not me naked. I mean those other women naked, in the past.”
The cat said nothing. He was waiting, eyes steady and that tail sweeping slowly through the grass. The movement was irritating.
“Naked is not the point,” Lexi said stiffly. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here because I want to tell you something. I know you haven’t been around much. Arsen said you’d recovered, and I’m glad. There’s just something I need to say.”
Lexi dug her heels deeper into the soft earth.
“That day when we were fighting, when I was angry and you were being an arrogant ass… I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I don’t even understand how I did it, but you didn’t deserve what happened.” She paused. “I wanted to tell you I was sorry.”
The tail stopped moving. Lexi thought it would be easier to apologize to an animal when he didn’t talk back or point out that her apology was a little too aggressive to be taken at face value. It wasn’t easy. It was… strange.
“I wish,” she whispered after a minute, “that I could remember you.” She placed her palm down on the still-warm ground, pressed hard. “I know you like to intimidate people, and you jump to conclusions. You go away a lot. I think I taught you how to cook.” Her eyes closed and she tipped her head back. “I wish I understood why we hate.”
She hadn’t expected an answer, not really. Wild creatures didn’t talk. But it didn’t stop the disappointment that made her shoulders droop.
“I feel stupid having a conversation with a gigantic cat.”
The cat growled.
“Okay, a giant mountain lion.” Lexi straightened. “So, if I did something awful in one of those past lives, I’m sorry for that, too.”
The lion shifted his weight a
nd Lexi was smart enough to feel a thread of alarm.
“Please stop,” she said. “If you’re trying to frighten me, fine, but I’m not done.” She gestured toward the trees. “I’ve heard the plane every day and I know you’re coming and going, when Arsen wants you here. I feel bad about that, too, and I’ve come up with a solution. You stick to your space and I’ll stick to mine. Just two people who have to be in the same place, and we’re both capable of being adult about it.” She lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug. “So that’s it. I’ve said all I have to say. We’re not going to fight anymore and you’re probably wild and haven’t understood a single word, so I’ll take the shortcut back since you don’t want me to go the other way.”
Lexi pushed herself to her feet and took a cautious step back, watching him for a moment longer before she turned and ran away.
Thunder rolled over the distant mountains, and the first icy drops of rain pounded little craters in the ground.
CHAPTER 17
Christan watched as she disappeared into the shadows, feeling an emotion so uncharacteristic for him he couldn’t immediately identify it. When he did, it shocked him. A softening. He wanted to soften his attitude toward this woman he needed to hate.
Her apology shamed his behavior, the way he tormented her without giving her a chance. Assumed the worst and reveled in his assumption. He knew why. He’d known the truth in those rocks and didn’t need it ground into his face. From the moment he’d committed her to the Agreement he’d been fighting to hold on to something—and he’d lost that fight. He’d been angry, but not because she wanted to get away from him.
It was because he couldn’t make her stay.
Christan rose to his feet and loped into the trees. He wasn’t sure what drove him, but he would follow her back to the cabin. His presence alone would be enough to warn off any natural hunter who ignored his scent.
It took longer than Christan expected for Lexi to reach the compound. The rain was cold in an icy wind. Her hair was wet, clinging to her back by the time she reached the cabin. As she pushed open the door, he waited in the shadows. When the lights were turned on, he tracked her progress through the small space. The kitchen was bypassed, then the bedroom. The bathroom light came on.