Jaxon lay quietly in his arms, staring up at Lucian's face with wide, dark eyes. Haunted eyes. Terror-stricken eyes. "I feel sick all of a sudden." She sat up abruptly, pushing at him futilely to put distance between them. The terrible burning in her stomach was increasing with each passing second. Increasing and spreading like wildfire throughout her body. "Lucian, something's really wrong." She reached for the phone on a small end table.

Lucian leaned around her and took the receiver from her hand. "It is the conversion taking place within your body." Once more his voice was totally without expression. "Your body must rid itself of its human toxins." He spoke in his soft, matter-of-fact voice.

Jaxon jerked away from him, her eyes enormous. She pressed both hands to her stomach. It felt as if someone were taking a blowtorch to her insides. "What did you do, Lucian? What did you do?"

Fire rushed through her body, her muscles contorted, and she found herself falling back to the floor helplessly in the throes of some kind of seizure. Lucian was there before her, cradling her close, his mind sharing hers so that he bore the brunt of the horrific pain as wave after wave rushed through her. Jaxon could only cling to him, terrified, as the agony crawled through her body.

It seemed to last hours, yet in minutes the pain began to wane. Little beads of sweat covered her skin, and she felt sicker than ever, exhausted. "The fire, Lucian. I can't stand the fire. It hurts. Everything hurts." Even her eyes hurt.

He waved a hand, and the flames were gone. A cooling breeze moved through the room, fanning her skin. Her nails dug into his arm. It was starting again. He felt it in her mind, the swelling pain twisting at her insides, clawing at her. Lucian was appalled at the strength of the seizures that lifted and slammed down her small body. Without his arms around her she would have been crashing onto the floor. This spasm was worse than the last one, her muscles knotting and clenching beneath her skin. She tried to say his name, to whisper it as she did when she needed an anchor, but nothing would come out, not even a croak. Inside her mind she was screaming for him.

Lucian surrounded her, body and mind. He sent himself seeking outside his body and into hers. Her organs were reshaping, her tissues and cells contorting. He made every attempt to ease her pain, but Jaxon was very slight, very small, and the force of the seizures was tearing at her body, her muscles so strained they were hard knots. He breathed with her, for her. He held her when her body rejected its human remnants and she vomited over and over. He washed her face, removing the beads of blood she had sweated from her forehead, and rocked her when the wave of agony receded.

Jaxon lay passively, conserving her energy. She was no longer fighting the pain, and her mind was carefully blank. Her eyes widened, and she looked at him helplessly, hopelessly when the next seizure began to take hold. Lucian found himself swearing between his teeth in the ancient language. He waited until he was certain the vomiting was over, the last toxins removed from her body, before he could safely command her to sleep.

Once she slept; he carefully cleansed her body, then cleaned all evidence of her torment from the room. Very gently he picked up her, cradling her against his chest. She felt so slight, so delicate, her bones so fragile. He buried his face in her hair, tears swimming close to the surface, burning his eyes. He carried her through the basement to his sleeping chamber and placed her in the middle of his bed. She looked like a small child under the sheet he drew carefully over her.

Lucian sat down and watched her for a long time, his dark eyes brooding. When she woke, she would wake as a full Carpathian, needing blood to sustain her life. She would be unable to walk in the sun, her skin and eyes far too sensitive to stand the light. Would she look at him with loathing, with revulsion?

He waited another hour wanting to make certain she was sleeping peacefully, before leaving her. He dressed himself as he glided up the stairs and through the house. The night was cool and clear, the wind fresh on his face. He breathed it in, the tales it told of the night. With three running steps he took to the skies, winging toward the heart of the city. He needed blood enough for both of them. His prey would be those ne'er do-wells who roamed the city in search of victims, thinking themselves safe and powerful in the darkness. But he could see them as clearly as if the sun were shining brightly.

He landed on the sidewalk, walking without missing a stride, a tall, elegant man dressed in a charcoal-gray suit. He looked very wealthy, at odds with his surroundings. He glanced neither left nor right, acting as if he heard nothing, yet he heard everything, even the low murmur of conversation coming from the projects on the other side of the street. He heard the whisper of footsteps behind him. One pair, then a second. The footsteps separated, his attackers coming at him from either side. These were the people he had often used over the centuries, the ones who tried to assault him in the hope that he had cash on him. He always allowed them to attack him before he sentenced them; he always made certain of their nefarious intentions, though it was easy enough to read their minds.

He read their thoughts, knew their plan, knew which of the two was the leader, the more vicious, the one who would attack first. He continued to walk, neither fast nor slow, looking straight ahead, simply waiting for them to make their move. He was halfway down the street, just coming up on a small alleyway between the apartment houses, when the leader rushed him. The man was large and strong, wrapping an arm around Lucian's head, driving him into the alley. Lucian cooperated, going in the direction the leader took him until both attackers were out of sight of any eyes that might be watching from the windows.

He whirled around, knocking the knife from the leader's hand, catching the man in his enormously strong hands, stopping both assailants with a soft command. The two thugs stood waiting for his attention. He drank deeply from each of them, uncaring that both would be weak and dizzy. It always took tremendous self-control to leave men such as these alive. At times, when he read their depraved minds, he found it nearly impossible. But he told himself he was a guardian of the Carpathian people; the human race had its own set of laws.

Lucian didn't bother planting a plausible memory for either of the two attackers. They would remember attempting to mug him, and then they would have a black void of time and experience that no amount of trying would help them fill. He left them there in the alley, lying on the ground moaning, unsure what had happened to them.

When Lucian returned, the house was cool and dark. These days Lucian loved to return home. To Jaxon. Nearly everything in the house was something he had picked out of her memories, things she loved, colors she found soothing. Art pieces she had seen and admired. Even the stained glass, incredible works of art his brother's wife had created, had been made especially for Jaxon. Woven into each piece was a strong safeguard for the house and a soothing invitation of welcome and warmth for those who dwelled within. Francesca was a true healer, and, even in her art, her gift came through.

In the sleeping chamber he shed his clothes and gathered Jaxon into his arms before issuing the command to awaken. The conversion was complete, and she had rested for nearly two hours. He wanted any confrontation over before the next rising. Jaxon stirred, moaned softly as if in memory, and then he felt her heart slam hard. She was fully awake, refusing to open her eyes and face the truth of what had happened. He felt his own heart skip a beat; his breath caught in his lungs. This was the moment. She would have to confront what she had become. He would have to confront her rejection of him.

Lucian held her in his arms, watching the expressions chasing across her face. Jaxon's impossibly long lashes fluttered, then lifted, and he was looking into her large dark eyes. He saw no condemnation what so ever. She simply looked up at him. Very slowly she raised a hand and rubbed at the frown he didn't realize was on his face.

"What have you done this time?" she asked.

His hands moved over her face, brushing her hair from her delicate cheekbones. "I think you already know."

"If it's what I think it is, I may have to resort to violence."

She was doing it again, not dealing with something her mind wasn't ready for. Instead the pad of her index finger was rubbing a little caress over his mouth. "Don't look so worried, Lucian. I'm not made of porcelain. I'm not going to break. You look as if the world has come to an end. Although, I have to tell you, it did hurt like hell, and when I'm feeling a little stronger, I might have to retaliate."

"I love you, angel, and I would not have put you through the suffering of a conversion had it not been necessary."

Jaxon was shaking her head. "Don't say conversion. I don't think we should go there right now.

Conversion. Sounds like a movie I once saw. It had vampires and icky things in it. This really disgusting creature bit the heroine and then gave her his blood." Her voice faltered for a moment, and he felt her tremble, but she went resolutely on. "It transformed her into a vampish sex maniac. She ran around sucking men's necks and killing little children. Not really my thing. At least not the killing of little children. I don't know about sucking men's necks." A fine tremor ran through her body.

His hand was stroking her hair, one arm locking her possessively to him. "I would never tolerate your sucking other men's necks, so we can dispense with that worry."

"I'm so glad. Although, maybe I would have liked it," she tried to tease him.

That was one of the things he admired so much about her. She was frightened, her heart was beating faster than normal, but she was holding on, being brave. His respect for her continued to grow. "I am sorry, angel, but you will have to get over your disappointment if that is the case. I am discovering I am a jealous man after all."

She snuggled into him, subconsciously seeking comfort. "You look like a man with complete confidence, Lucian. I can't believe you would be jealous. Besides, no one else wants me."

His eyebrows shot up. "You do not notice how men fall all over you? Even that silly young one who disobeyed your orders by going into the warehouse and making such a fool of himself - you thought his heroics were for self-promotion, but in truth he wanted you to notice him."

"No way." Jaxon was shocked, and it showed. "He had political pull, and he used it to get on my team even though I was totally opposed. He wasn't ready, and he wasn't a team player. He wanted glory and headlines. Publicly my unit is as anonymous as possible, but within the ranks it's known as the best. Benton definitely had promotion - not me - on his mind," she declared certain of her facts.

Lucian bent his head to gently brush the side of her mouth with his. The light touch made her heart somersault, and she felt the answering jolt in his. His lips had barely skimmed hers, yet she felt the heat curl in the pit of her stomach.

"That is what he appeared to be like, but it is not what was in his mind. He wanted to stand out, wanted you to notice him."

"He certainly went about it in an interesting way. I noticed him all right. He almost got Barry and me killed." Her voice betrayed her rejection of Lucian's assessment.

"I was there, honey. I read his mind accurately. You wreak havoc among the males in your department, and now, unfortunately, you will do so even more."

Jaxon laughed softly at him. "You are smitten with me, aren't you? No one wants me. They just think I'm dynamite at my job, which I am," she said without false modesty.

"You are surrounded by men all the time where you work. It is improper for a Carpathian woman to be unprotected in the company of men."

Now her eyebrows shot up. "Lucky for me, I'm just a plain little human woman who works for a living."

His hand caressed her hair, then moved to stroke her soft skin before returning to the untamed blond strands that so intrigued him. "Not any longer. I am no modern man, angel. I believe strongly in the duties I have sworn to carry out. You are my true lifemate, my heart and soul, the light to my darkness. I do not think running around seeking danger is what I want for the light to my darkness. Think what it would mean to the world, my love, if something were to happen to you. I have held out against the darkness for more centuries than I can say, but if something happened to you, I would truly become a monster. Even the hunters in my family would find it impossible to track and destroy me."

"I don't think so, Lucian. You forget, I'm getting used to being in your mind. You wouldn't become a monster. You're just trying to get me to do what you want."

"So you think you know me." His voice was softer than ever.

At once Jaxon frowned and moved to sit up cautiously, testing her body for its responses. "That's just it, Lucian. I don't know you, and you don't know me. I don't even know how I got here. I don't know how I've allowed you to take over my life. And now this. I don't know what you've done, but I know it's not something I want, and you didn't bother to consult with me one way or the other. Is that part of being old-fashioned? Born centuries ago? The little woman doesn't have a say in her own life?" Her hand crept defensively to her throat. She wasn't the same at all. She could feel the difference. Reality was creeping in whether she wanted it to or not.

She was in bed stark naked with a man she knew relatively nothing about. He wasn't even a man. He was some powerful predator she found sexy. Gasping, she shoved at the solid wall of his chest and, grabbing for the sheet, wrapped it around her. "I don't know you at all. I can't believe I slept with you."

Lucian's face was more sensual than ever, a slight, puzzled frown making him so attractive, Jaxon wanted him outlawed on the spot. "Do not modern-day women sleep with their husbands?"

"We aren't married. I didn't marry you. I would have known if I had done that. I didn't, did I?" She shoved a hand through her hair, sending it flying in all directions, then had to grab hastily for the sheet slipping so precariously. She glared at him, daring him to smile at her predicament.

Lucian found that his centuries of self-control stood him in good stead. He kept his features completely expressionless when he wanted desperately to smile with the joy flooding his heart. She melted his insides, turned him into something gentle, when he had been so certain there was no chance for him to feel such things. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss her until her eyes went dark with desire and her body went up in flames with his. "What do you think a lifemate is? We are married in the way of the Carpathian people. We are bound for all eternity, one to the other, body and soul."

She jumped out of bed, trying to be dignified with a sheet swirling around her like a toga, bunching at her feet, preventing freedom of movement. "There you go again with words like eternity. See? That's exactly what I'm talking about. We're not in the least bit compatible. And I don't sleep around. You've done something to me. Some black-magic trick. Voodoo. I have a few morals. I don't sleep with just anyone, you know."

A smile hovered dangerously close. Lucian's black eyes gleamed at her, moving over her with a slow, burning possessiveness that said more than any words could possibly express. "I am not just anyone, Jaxon, and I am more than grateful that you do not 'sleep around.' " He moved then, a sleek jungle cat stretching lazily.

At once her heart was pounding overly loud and she was backing away from the bed, her eyes wide in her face. "You're asking me to be something I'm not, Lucian. You didn't give me a chance to think about things."

"What things? What was there to think about? I must rest in the ground. I cannot do so if you are not beside me. You have a penchant for getting into trouble."

At once her dark eyes flashed fire. "That's it! I've had it with you. You don't even seem to know what you've done. You show no remorse at all. I'm the one who has to do all the compromising, except there is no compromise. You simply decide I'm going to do something, and then I do it. And it hurt like hell!" With that parting shot, she stormed from the bedroom. The hem of the sheet trailing behind her caught on the edge of the door and brought her up short. Jaxon simply allowed the sheet to flutter to the floor, giving Lucian a last glimpse of her soft, pale skin and beautiful curves before she disappeared from his sight.

Lucian stretched again, reveling in the feel of his strong muscles, in the way his body felt so alive. He wanted her again. He would want her for all time. The day could never come when he was fully sated. He was smiling, unable to stop. She was such a perfect miracle to him. Right now, when most women would be hysterical at the thought of conversion, she was giving him hell for being an arrogant Carpathian male. Lucian knew she was going to have to come to terms with what she had become, and it wouldn't be easy on her, but it had been necessary to ensure her continued safety. Jaxon was not a woman to be put on a shelf. She would always be in the thick of things, no matter what he decreed. Once Lucian had accepted that fact, accepted her personality, her protective nature, he had taken the only course open to him to prevent disaster.

He padded on bare feet across the room and stooped to pick up her discarded sheet. He smiled again. It had never occurred to him he would ever experience jealousy, yet he found he didn't like the idea of other males being close to her. He didn't even want them thinking about her, fantasizing over her. More than that, he didn't want her to smile at them with her innocent, sexy smile, or to touch them in the way humans often did one another. Living with emotions was an interesting experience. Worse, now that Jaxon was fully Carpathian, her ability to attract males would increase. Her voice would become more alluring, so memorable that those hearing it would want to hear it again and again. Her eyes would draw men to her - as if they didn't already. Lucian sighed and shook his head.

He moved through the house and up the stairs to her room. Drawers had been yanked open so she could grab some clothing. Jaxon was in the spacious bathroom. He could hear the shower running. Lucian touched her mind very gently. She was panicked and trying to calm herself with normal human activities. There were tears in her mind, running down her face. At once he found himself needing to be with her.

But the door to the bathroom was firmly locked, and she had placed a rolled-up towel at its base. In spite of everything Lucian found himself smiling again. She had no real idea of his true power. He could mentally command her to open the door. One touch would burst it open. He could open it a thousand ways. His solid frame shimmered for a moment before it became insubstantial, transparent, then dissolved into mist. The droplets streamed through the keyhole of the door and poured into the bathroom, mixing with the steam from the shower.

Lucian stepped out of the fog, his muscular frame solid once more. He could see Jaxon clearly through the glass shower door. She was leaning her forehead against the wall, the water pouring over her head and down her back. She looked beautiful, pale, and fragile. She took his breath away. Silently he slid into the tub and reached for her, turning her into his chest with his strong arms, giving her no chance to protest.

"I cannot bear your tears, my love. Tell me what you want me to do, and I will do it. Anything. You are the only thing in this world that matters to me." His hands framed her face to tilt her head up toward his. He bent to taste her tears. He ached inside, his heart clenching with actual pain.

Jaxon felt his reaction to her tears and knew it was genuine. He was distressed by her sorrow. His mouth moved over hers, back and forth, a gentle, persuasive caress. At once she could feel her body's reaction, the way her heart found the rhythm of his, the way her blood began to heat, to pool, to make demands. That brought a fresh flood of tears. She wanted him, wanted to be with him this way, Lucian holding her so protectively, so tenderly. He was enormously strong, yet he was so careful with her, so gentle. She loved that about him, loved the way he needed her, hungered for her, wanted only her. But she didn't want to want him. She didn't want to want anyone.

"I want you to want me," Lucian whispered, reading her mind. "I want you to know me the way I know you." His mouth wandered to her neck, her soft throat. "I know everything about you, and I am madly in love with you.

Love is not even a strong enough word for the way I feel about you. Take the time to get to know me, Jaxon. Try for me, angel. Just try."

His mouth was creating a world of heat and colors, a place where only the two of them existed. His hands were moving over her body with exquisite care.

"I'm like you now, aren't I?" Jaxon whispered softly against his chest.

His fingers found the nape of her neck, moved through her hair, his touch possessive. "You are Carpathian, honey, with all the gifts of our people. The earth calls to us, the wind, the rain, the heavens above. It is a beautiful world. We can run with the wolves, fly with the raptors, swim in the rivers with the fish if we desire. I can show you wonders never seen by the human eye. You can do things so incredible, you will know joy beyond anything."

She let him kiss the tears from her face, let his rising hunger become hers. There was madness in what was happening, but it no longer mattered to her. She couldn't change what was. She couldn't undo what he had done. And she couldn't hate him for doing it. Jaxon wanted to lose herself in the dark passion only he could provide. She wanted him needing her so desperately that she would never have to face what she was.

Her hands moved over his body, tracing each defined muscle. Lucian caught her head in his hands as she moved closer to him, her mouth moving over his wet skin, catching little beads of water on her tongue. His body was tightening to a painful ache, making urgent demands, when all he wanted was to comfort her, to tell her how much he loved her for not condemning him. He wanted to hold her in his arms and let her cry, if that was what she needed to help her face what had taken place within her body. "You are not here to serve my needs, angel. I am here to serve yours. Let me hold you. Ask me questions."

Sheer terror shimmered for one moment in her eyes, then was lost in a sultry blaze of sheer sensuality. Her hands were moving over his hips, delving into the defined muscles of his buttocks, exploring his thighs. "I want to feel alive, Lucian. I want to feel I have some power, some control over my own world. I just want to feel." Her hands found the hard, thick evidence of his desire, her fingernails stroking lightly, her hands taking pleasure in learning the shape and texture of him.

Lucian's head went back, his eyes closed. Even with the sheer ecstasy of her fingers caressing him so intimately, he merged fully with her mind, seeking to find her greatest need, her greatest desire. She had pushed out all reality, anchoring herself with thoughts only of him: how much she loved to be with him, how she loved to watch his eyes go from ice-cold to molten heat, the way his body hardened yet he remained so incredibly gentle. Her thoughts stole his breath, his heart. She admired his courage, wanted to take away the bleakness of his past existence, and she was determined no one would harm him. She wanted him to be at peace, no longer forced to destroy the terrible creatures loose in their world. She wanted to please him, and she worried about her inexperience.

The air rushed from his lungs as her mouth - silken, moist heat - closed around him. She could draw on his erotic fantasies, could feel what she was doing to him. Jaxon had lost herself in her newfound power, and Lucian was reacting with swelling desire, hot, hard hunger. His teeth actually clenched together. She found the rhythm of his hips, reveled in the helpless way he moved into her. Time was lost. Reality was lost. Jaxon had disappeared, and in her place was a siren, a temptress testing her ability to steal his self-control.

Lucian bunched his hands in her hair and dragged her up to him to find her mouth. She was moving against him, her breasts tantalizing him; her hands stroking and inflaming. His burned a trail of fire from her throat to the creamy swell of her breasts. His palm found the tight blond curls at the apex of her thighs and pressed close to find damp, welcoming heat. His fingers moved to test her readiness and found hot velvet clenching around him, found her needing him with the same urgency he felt. Her breath was coming in shallow gasps.

"Hurry, Lucian!" Her breathless cry sent a shaft of piercing joy sweeping through him. She did need him; no other would do for her. He was her true lifemate, and her body cried out for his. He wanted all of her. Her mind and heart as well as her body and soul. And her mind was filled with hot, hungry need of him.

He caught her small waist, lifted her into his arms, and settled her over him like a perfect sheath for a sword. A sound escaped from one of them - him or her? Neither knew which was Lucian, which was Jaxon. She was tight and perfect, and he filled her completely, holding her in his strong embrace. Jaxon circled his neck with her arms, leaning close to him, skin to skin, heart to heart. She closed her eyes and allowed the beauty of their joining to take her far away, until she was spinning into space, free-falling with Lucian, wanting it to last for eternity. Just the two of them in their own private world of erotic fantasy.

The way he held her was so right. Gentle, tender, yet moving deeply within her, each stroke creating a fiery friction that left both of them reaching endlessly for more. Lucian bent his head protectively over hers, surrounding her with love and warmth and comfort even as her body surrounded his with such perfect rapture.

Jaxon felt her inner muscles tighten, the feeling building and building, the pleasure almost more than she could bear. Her teeth found his shoulder; she was gasping for breath, for sanity, trying to prolong the moment even as her entire body was splintering, fragmenting, spinning out of control. Lucian's mind was firmly merged with hers. He could feel her body's reaction to his, and it triggered his own white-hot explosion, intensifying the feeling for both of them. He could feel the ripples of aftershock, her body contracting and releasing around his.

He turned her so that the water cascaded over both of them. Jaxon clung to him, not wanting to give up the completeness of being one. Lucian simply held her protectively in his arms, needing to comfort her. Eventually she lifted her head and gazed into his black velvet eyes.

She looked so fragile, so vulnerable, he was afraid she might break.

"I am with you, Jaxon," he whispered softly. Very gently he began to separate their bodies, feeling almost bereft. "You will never be alone again. I reside in you as you will always reside in me." He cradled her gently in his arms.

"I can't think about it, Lucian. If I try, I go crazy."

"That is all right, angel. What do you expect of yourself? Instant acceptance? No one could easily accept such a thing. It is a dark gift. We live in a beautiful world, yes, but we must pay a high price for the special talents we are given. And your lifemate has responsibilities that place you in dangerous situations. I would change what I am if I could - the dark angel of death, my people call me - but I am a hunter of the undead, and I fear I always will be."

Her wide eyes flashed with sudden anger. "They call you that? The dark angel of death'? How can they be so terrible when you've given them so much? What right do they have to judge you?" She was instantly protective of him, a young tigress, and he had a sudden vision of her with their children.

The thought made him want to smile. Instead, he turned off the water and carried her out of the shower. Once she was standing on the tiles, he enveloped her with a large towel. Pulling the edges together, he drew her close. "I am an ancient Carpathian male with tremendous knowledge and power. My people know how dangerous that combination is. We are predators, my love, and can turn at any moment when we are without our lifemates. Most males turn after far fewer centuries than I have existed."

She glared at him. "Don't you make excuses for them. I've been in your mind, and you're no more a killer than I am."

He laughed; he couldn't help himself. She was so innocent, even now, after all they had shared. She could never be what he was, a predator with a thin veneer of civilization and tremendous discipline. She was light to his darkness, his savior, his miracle, and she couldn't see it. She wouldn't look at herself through his eyes.

"The dawn is approaching, Jaxon." He knew it without glancing at the time; his people always knew the exact moment of sunrise or sunset. "Come with me to the sleeping chamber."

Lucian felt her instant reluctance, the sudden dread seizing her. That made it real in her mind, too final for her to accept. He held out a hand. "Walk with me." He said it softly, gently, his voice like velvet.

Jaxon stared at his hand, not wanting to go with him, as if somehow by staying in the main part of the house she would remain human. She felt torn, wanting to remain, yet not wanting to hurt Lucian. Very slowly, hesitantly she put her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers, warm and sure. "You will always be safe with me, Jaxon. If you believe that, you will get through this."

He tugged until she was beneath the protection of his shoulder and he could wrap his arm around her. They moved together through the house, down the wide spiral staircase, through the kitchen, and into the basement. He felt her hesitation as they entered the narrow corridor leading down to the sleeping chamber. It was there in her mind, the thought of running back up the stairs. Lucian merely tightened his arm, bending his head to brush the warmth of his mouth against her temple in a small gesture of encouragement.

"In all the centuries of my existence, Jaxon, I have never met a woman such as you." His admiration and love for her was in the soft purity of his voice. Deliberately he matched his breathing to hers, his heart to hers so that he could regulate her panicked pace to a calmer one. Easily he moved in her mind, stilling the chaos, a light touch to bring a measure of tranquility, of acceptance, easing her into the difficult transition.

Lucian was careful not to take away her free will, but he could not bear her suffering. It moved him as nothing else in his life ever had. He would have done anything for her, anything to protect her. He had the ability to erase every terrible memory from her mind, wipe out her past entirely. He had the capacity to ensure she would accept being a Carpathian, believe she had always been one, yet he knew it was wrong. Still, the idea lingered in his mind. He despised himself for allowing her to suffer, for causing the physical pain of the conversion and now her agony of attempting to accept what he had wrought.

"I would hate that. Eventually you wouldn't be able to live with the lie, Lucian," she said quietly.

He glanced down at her, his black gaze loving. She was looking up at him with wide brown eyes, a hint of laughter in their depths. "You didn't think I would learn to read your mind so easily, did you?" She shook her head. "No, you didn't think I would choose to read it." She was smug about catching that bit of knowledge.

He opened the door to the chamber and stepped back to allow her to enter first. It pleased him that she had chosen to read his thoughts. It was an intimacy between lifemates, the sharing of thoughts and feelings without words. A private path for two. "You continually astonish me," he admitted. And she did. She amazed him with her ability to adapt to every new situation. Just the fact that she could smile was astounding.

Jaxon held on to the towel, looking around rather desperately for something to put on so she wouldn't feel so vulnerable. Lucian held out an immaculate white silk shirt, and she slipped her arms in it. Her long lashes swept down, veiling her expression as he began to button up the front of the shirt, his knuckles brushing against her bare skin. "What was that creature that was throwing itself against the wall? It wasn't a vampire, was it, because it seemed incredibly stupid."

"It was a ghoul. The walking dead. Not undead, like a vampire, but a minion of the vampire. A servant. A puppet. As I told you, the vampire can use a human to do his bidding during the day while he rests. The ghoul lives only to carry out the vampire's wishes. He is fed by the blood of the vampire and the flesh of the dead."

Jaxon gasped and covered her mouth. "I don't know why I ask you questions. You always say something wild. And it's not as if I don't know you're going to do it. I just wade right in and ask anyway." She shoved a hand through her hair, sending damp tendrils in every direction.

Lucian automatically reached out to smooth her hair back into place. "A ghoul is dangerous because it never stops until it is completely destroyed."

She nodded, turning the information over and over in her mind. "What about the wall? What kind of security system do you have in it? Did it ever occur to you a child might try to climb on that wall?"

"If a child attempted to climb the wall, absolutely nothing would happen," he answered. "The wall only reacts to evil."

She nodded again, biting down on her lower lip. "Naturally. Of course. Why would I think anything else?"

"Come to bed, angel," he invited softly.

She wasn't looking at him, her eyes carefully studying the surrounding walls. He had been meticulous about the construction of this room, ensuring that it appeared to be a replica of a bedroom aboveground. Lightly he touched her mind, wanting to correct whatever might be wrong. It took great effort to prevent a smile from showing on his face. Her reaction had nothing to do with the room, nothing to do with her conversion, and everything to do with his naked body and the things they had done together.

Lucian glided to the bed and covered his lower body with a sheet. "Are you going to walk around the chamber for the entire day?"

"Maybe," she answered, touching the walls, running her fingertips over them to feel the texture. "How far underground are we?"

Lucian shrugged his powerful shoulders, a casual ripple of muscles, his eyes suddenly watchful. "Do you have a problem being beneath the earth?" He was a shadow in her mind and knew she had no anxiety over being underground. She was reluctant to get into bed, afraid of sleeping, of waking, afraid of facing the truth.

She glanced at him, more comfortable now that his nakedness was covered. Her behavior made no sense to her. Why did she want to be with Lucian so desperately? It was so unlike her. He had been honest with her from the first about who and what he was, yet she had simply gone along with everything he said, everything he did.

"You are my lifemate, Jaxon. You were born the other half of my soul. Your body and mind recognized me. Your heart and soul cried out for mine. It is the way of our people."

"I'm not Carpathian." She said it defensively, her hand going protectively to her throat. "Why would it happen?"

"It is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. All I was told was that some human women with psychic powers are truly lifemates to our males." He softened his voice deliberately, evoking a soothing, tranquil calm. "Obviously it is so." He was once more merged fully with her, slowing her heart and lungs, allowing her to find the strength to cross the floor and slide into bed beside him.

Lucian wrapped his arms securely around her, pulling her small body into the shelter of his larger frame. She relaxed into him immediately, his touch calming the rising tide of terror sweeping through her. She felt battered emotionally and physically. She had so many questions but didn't want them answered, afraid of her own reactions to what he might tell her.

"I just want to go to sleep, Lucian," she said, her head snuggled against his shoulder. "Can we just go to sleep?"

He felt her holding her breath. She didn't want to sleep; she wanted to run away. He brushed the top of her head with a kiss, his fingers moving tenderly in her hair. "Sleep, angel. You will be safe with me." He took control, sending her into a deep sleep immediately so that she would have no chance of fighting the command.

They would not sleep in this chamber, or this bed, this night. Her body needed rejuvenation; it needed the healing only the soil of the earth could offer a true Carpathian. Lucian had no intention of forcing her to face that particular reality of their existence. He was her lifemate; as such, he could do no other than to see to her health, to her happiness. But he wanted to spare her the details he deemed unnecessary for her to learn at such an early stage.

He lifted her slight body into his arms, then concentrated on the wall to the left of them. The wall shifted to reveal the narrow stone passage leading deeper into the heart of the earth. He followed it downward until he came to the rich, dark soil bed he had provided within the rock. Waving a hand, he opened it. Then he floated into the bed, cradling Jaxon's slender body to him. Safeguards in place, the wolves roaming free, he closed all doors so that his lair was secret from any intruders. Again he placed safeguards at each door, along the passage itself, and above them in the rock bed. Only then did he send Jaxon into the deeper sleep of his people, stopping her heart and lungs so that she lay as still as death within the earth. As he waved a hand to command the soil to pour over them, he sent his own body into Carpathian sleep. His heart stuttered for a moment, then ceased to beat. The soil continued to pour over them until it was all in place, undisturbed as if it had lain there for centuries.