A Mermaid's Ransom (16 page)

"Your personal feelings will exist, and be a factor, no matter what."

Lex sighed, freed her hands to rub them over her face. "For so long, I've wanted someone to love me, not just a response induced by my gift. If I was like any other girl who had a first love, or a first date, or a first kiss, I could play all sorts of silly head games and drive myself crazy. But I'm not.
I'm not
."

She didn't need to feel the sharp ripple of Anna's pain to know her mother well understood what it was to grow up under the shadow of something that kept others at arms' length. To long for what others had, but know if it came at all, it would come in a form far different than expected. Proving it, Anna didn't respond with denials or reassurances, though her hand rested on Lex's.

"While our concerns as your parents tend to get in the way of what we know you must do, your father and I believe in your strength and your intelligence, Alexis." Anna's voice was thick, but her gaze was piercing, steady. "You have your father's determination, his sense of right and wrong, as clear and sharp as his sword blade. We don't wish to doubt you."

When Lex would have spoken, Anna shook her head. "There is something about Dante, though, not only in his past or who he is, but in the way he looks at you. A hunger that is frightening to a parent. As a woman, it would be overwhelming, and it could be deceptive. Believe in yourself, Alexis. You will never steer yourself wrong, and if anything happens, if your heart is broken, know we will be here."

Alexis blinked, nodded. "I've always hoped to have your courage, Myel. I'm so afraid of what's going to happen."

"You stood up to your father, Mina and even Dante to do what you knew was right. If that's the kind of courage I've shown in the past, no wonder Jonah says I give him gray hairs." Anna allowed a twinkle in her blue eyes, lightening Alexis's heart.

"Can he be brought here, now that I'm awake? I swear, it's like having a permanent anxiety attack, whatever's causing it. Two weeks . . ." Alarm took her, for different reasons. "T, and Clara--"

"Marcellus took your cat to a place where he could be tended until you return."

"I'll have to thank him for that."

"Don't go on too much about it. Your father wanted Marcellus to know your building layout."

"Marcellus will be handling guard duty?" Lex didn't bother to keep the surprise from her voice, and Anna inclined her head.

"Jonah wanted to send Marcellus a clear message that he still has confidence in him. These males. If they're only able to slay ten dragons in one blow instead of twenty, suddenly they doubt their mascu linity." But Lex felt Anna's worry about Jonah's captain. Even Mina took particular note of him these days, going out of her way to insult Marcellus more often than any other angel in Jonah's Legion, even Jonah.

"I also had him find Clara's phone number. I didn't speak to her, but I left a message on her machine that you'd had a family emergency and wouldn't be home for several weeks. I'm sure that won't eliminate her worries, but at least she won't be calling the police and filing a missing persons report."

"No, it will be fine. Even though she's never met you, she'll know you're my mother, and everything is okay." Alexis swallowed. "Myel, I'm sorry, but can he--"

"He's on his way." Anna covered her nervous hand, her warm grip contrasting with Lex's cold one. "I contacted Jonah while we've been speaking. Why don't I help get you dressed? I bathed you earlier. Do you feel steadier now?"

Lex nodded. Anna slipped an arm around her waist as Lex put her feet on the floor, more carefully this time. When Lex proved she could stand, Anna squeezed her waist once more and took a cautious step away. "Stay there where you can sit back down if you need to do so. I'll go get you the clothes out of the dryer," she said, too quickly.

Lex swayed, not so much from unsteadiness as from what pushed against her filters, strengthening with every rapid step her mother took down the stairs out of the loft. Growing up with Lex as their child, both Jonah and Anna had found they couldn't hide emotions around her. Once they'd accepted that, they'd patiently fielded a small child's questions about what she was feeling from them, no matter how difficulty that honesty was. In return, as Lex grew up, she'd learned when to respect their privacy and let the emotions they had pass unquestioned when it was obvious she should do so.

While this was one of those instances, she couldn't control her own reaction. Not when she looked down at her shiny, clean hair again and the roomy sleep shirt she wore, one of those kept in the cottage for whenever Anna made use of it. It was the first time in the history of the daughters of Arianne that two daughters were alive to use it. Up until Anna, all the daughters died right before the age of twenty-one. The age Alexis was now.

The dam broke then. Thank the Goddess, Anna was already downstairs so Lex wouldn't add to that pain. Lex's knees hit the throw rug, cushioning the sound of her fall. Pressing her face into it, she wrapped her arms around her middle. It all hit her then. What had happened to her, her parents' fear--impossible to process separately because Jonah and Anna were so closely linked--her own terror, things that would be part of her nightmares for weeks to come. But overlying it all was this terrible gnawing need to see Dante . . . Where the hell was he?

It had been a long time since she hadn't been able to filter emotions enough to keep them from overwhelming her. But stress and weakness shoved shields aside, as if they'd waited until she was fully awake to render her raw, defenseless. The need to weep suddenly took everything else over.
Where was he?

"What is the matter? What is wrong?"

He was a rush of fire through nerves shriveling from cold, and despite the absurdity of it, the flame swept over her, giving her warmth and life again. While it would be easier to believe it had to do with the mark, a simple chemical reaction, the intuition her mother had told her to trust told her differently. Which meant she was far more vulnerable to him than even her father or Mina feared.

When he knelt down beside her, her skin tingled at the touch of his hand on her shoulder, bare because the oversized sleep shirt had slid off it. Then she saw the boot he wore, braced on the floor in front of her knee, flanked by a ragged jeans cuff.

I sent him the clothes.

It hadn't registered when her mother first said it. The magnitude of emotions churning in Anna's wake when she fled the room now made more sense. As Dante had proven to Lex countless times in his world, if the emotions were too complex and strong, she couldn't always immediately decipher their meaning. But when Anna had convinced Jonah to listen, Lex realized her mother had been confronting a much larger personal demon.

One of the traditions of the cottage was that a spare set of men's clothes was always kept there. Every daughter of Arianne had one love, and he was always rescued from the sea. Alexis hadn't rescued Dante from the sea, or had she? He'd come through the sea portal, because she'd pulled him through.

Goddess, she was losing her mind. She hadn't even dated and she was prepared to put all her eggs in the basket of one very messed-up, cosmic-struggle-with-internal-evil, Dark Spawn vampire.

Alexis, look at me.

She closed her eyes more tightly, her hands into fists. Though the curse was supposed to be broken, Anna had still wanted Alexis to pick out an outfit. Alexis had laughed, enjoying the fun of it at first, but sometime during that shopping trip several years ago, another compulsion had taken over. By the end of it, she was leading her mother into the shops. When they returned to the cottage that night, she hadn't known which one of them was more unsettled. She'd put it at the back of her mind, only to have it spring forward now. While it might be proof she hadn't lost her mind when she championed Dante, dealing with pieces of the puzzle falling into place like this might drive her insane anyway.

At last she lifted her gaze, coursing over the faded black jeans she'd picked out before she knew about a vampire born of fire. They creased in the right places, the fading creating an intriguing gray smoke effect on the fabric. She remembered the shirt had been the hardest to pick out, as if she knew whatever man donned it would not look quite right in the tailored, modern clothes of today. She'd found the perfect thing in the vintage shops around the college. The white silk poet's shirt had lacings open at the throat, revealing the line of his sternum, the sculpting to the pectorals. The silver collar lay on his collarbone. Despite its grim purpose, it was a handsome addition to the outfit. When he leaned over her she could see down the open neckline to the jeans' waistband, the terrain of muscle between. He looked as if he belonged to an age of darkness and sorcery, not cars and wide-screen televisions.

He'd had a bath and tending as well, though she suspected Jonah hadn't sponged him down as her mother had done for her. The humor steadied her, particularly when she saw it register in his startled and then speculative expression.
Humor.
He didn't know what humor was. How did someone learn humor? She'd read once that babies learned to smile when their parents were smiling. They'd imitate, and somewhere along the way they'd make the connection between the expression and the feeling.

Washed, his hair was even more of a temptation. She wanted to wrap her hands in it, bury her face in the dark strands that fell over his shoulder as he leaned over her. The strands outlined the slope of proud cheekbones and straight nose. She wasn't brave enough yet to meet his eyes, so she alighted on the firm lips. That was a mistake.

In an instant, she wanted them on hers with a hunger so strong, she thought of him taking her to her back right then and there. Marking her with this new clean, male scent after being away from her for so long.

Holy Goddess, she was here with her mother.
Her mother
. And Jonah was right there, standing on the top step to the loft. She could feel his tense reserve.

Dante's eyes had sparked with reaction to her response. He would do exactly as she wished, because he had no idea they shouldn't.

She jerked back on her knees, so quickly she would have toppled if he hadn't caught her wrists. Jonah's tension ratcheted upward, because it looked as if Dante had frightened her and she'd startled away from him. Though Dante could read her mind, she was sure the unfamiliar images and terms confused him. His expression went wooden, his jaw muscle flexing in anger . . . or perhaps another feeling.

No, it's not you, Dante. We don't do things like . . . what I was thinking, not in front of other people. It's private. Especially when the other people are parents.

In my world, Dark Ones couple wherever they wish, when the urge strikes them.
Shadows flickered through his gaze. A feeling, here then gone, touched her with a chilling horror, but she was distracted from that by the hot surge of lust that overrode it.

In this world, we don't
, she reinforced hastily.

Then send them away.

She swallowed at the look in his eyes, the demand. Two weeks. Two weeks they'd been apart. The quivering need from him wasn't nearly as shocking to her as her own matching desire, despite her body's debilitating weakness. Trying to collect herself, she got one foot under her, then the other. Dante had stepped back and didn't touch her again. She wondered if he was following her direction, or if he'd removed his touch because he thought she wouldn't welcome it, when in fact her skin was burning for it, craving the flame.

No, he could read her thoughts, couldn't he? She wished she could read his as easily. When he spoke, her gut clenched, terrified he might say baldly what he wanted to do. Her father would murder him right there, leaving a smoking hole in the polished wood floor, boots still standing where his feet had been. Or worse.

"You still haven't answered me. What is the matter?"

She wished she was wearing something different. It might seem illogical, since Dante had seen her in shambles in his world, but she'd wanted the first time he saw her since his arrival to be different.

You are always beautiful, you should know that.
His tone was impatient.
Are you going to answer my question?

"I can't keep up with everyone's thoughts and my feelings at once," she responded, glancing toward the steps. Anna had returned, standing on the stair just below Jonah, leaning into his hip and the curve of his wing. Lex didn't see any other angels with him, so she assumed he'd been the one to bring Dante from Lucifer's realm. That was a distracting image, because of course Jonah would have had to hold him in some fashion to carry him through the sky, and she couldn't imagine either male relishing that. Knowing Jonah, he'd been sorely tempted to drop him several times just to hear him scream. Knowing Dante, he wouldn't have offered that satisfaction, crossing his arms and glaring until he hit the ground with a bone-shattering thud.

She suppressed a giggle, a sound close enough to hysteria to increase everyone's alarm. Biting her lip, she struggled for control, hoping her head wasn't going to explode from the emotional overload. Unlike her parents, however, there was no way to hide her state from Dante. His eyes were narrowed, mouth tight as he watched her.

"I'm still a little bit disoriented. I'm sorry. I don't mean to worry everyone."

"
You
owe us no apologies, Seabird," Jonah said. His tone was sharp, but the familiar endearment was reassuring.

"I'm still sorry." She straightened to her feet, took a deep steadying breath and gazed at both of them. "I'm all right now, truly. Myel, if you could leave me the clothes you brought, I'd like some time with Dante, to start acquainting him with our world, to talk to him a little while, without . . . an audience. I think it will be easier for him. For both of us." She lifted a shoulder. "I admit, I feel a little self-conscious. I've been out for two weeks, and I'd like to try to get back to being myself."

In fact, she'd never felt so awkward, torn between two loyalties. She didn't like the vague sense she was betraying their love. They'd nearly lost her, and here she was, shooing them out of the cottage she'd just acknowledged was Anna's, because she was terrified Dante was going to leap on her . . . or perhaps eager to find out if he would.