Holocaust (The Deadwood Hunter Series Book 3) (30 page)

Chapter 42

Looking up as his growl rumbled through the house, her knee stopped bouncing as she watched Lincoln snarl at Caden. Zoning out the people around her she caught the tail end of their conversation.

“
I’m bleeding so much. I’ve nothing left.”

His statement hit her like a ton of bricks. She sucked in a breath, the sound of her desperation making the people around her go silent.

“Lex, are you okay?” Belinda asked her, hand touching her knee.

“I need to leave,” she gasped out though the lump in her throat.

Standing, she moved Lola to her hip.

“Now?” Belinda asked bewildered. “Where would we go?”

We.
Lexia couldn’t help smiling. They were still willing to follow her to hell. “Not now, but soon. Sarah is coming tomorrow. I’ll deal with her then work out my next move.”

“
Our
move, boss.”

“Our move,” she confirmed.

“Your mate?” Grey asked.

Voice calm, though her insides fell apart, Lexia answered, “I know you don’t understand, but I can’t give him what he needs.”

Needing to run suddenly – the need as strong as it had once been when she’d ran every day up a hillside to watch the sunrise – Lexia passed Lola to Mellissa. “Watch her will you? I’m going for a run.”

“Don’t overdo it, boss,” Marcus ordered.

“I won’t go far,” she answered, hiding her smile. Since Derrick had gone, Marcus had taken over his role, reprimanding her when she pushed herself too far; reminding her she was strong when she fell apart.

She’d pushed herself too far already. She could feel it in the burn of her lungs and the strain throughout her legs. She should have stopped, should have at least caught her breath. Her body was still healing, the scars on her back pink and raw in places, yet the burn of lactic acid down her thighs and calves had become addictive. For just a few minutes, she felt something other than the pain of living.

Turning onto the final path, Lexia sensed Lincoln. She felt him before he appeared, felt the walls begin to crumble, her mind start to shatter. The broken, scared girl beneath the surface, desperate to be rescued.

Coming to a stop, Lexia forced an old memory away before it took hold, and turned toward the panther following her. “I’m not that frightened girl anymore. I won’t run from you.”

Dragging in a few breaths, Lexia waited.

Lincoln shifted, the sight of him pulling at her senses, telling her to run. Which way she wasn’t sure. Always at war, always being pulled different ways.

“Are you sure? All you do is run from me. Maybe it’s time I caught my prey.”

It hurt, but she deserved it, deserved so much more. She did run, had already run as far as she could from him, killing him slowly each day.

“I’m not prey, Linc.” The space between them charged. It could have been miles, or inches, their passion. The love between them would never die no matter how far Lexia ran.

“No, not mine. You are prey to your own mind,” he said sadly, the pain inside of him raw. “The fight is over, Lex. When will you see that?”

“Not for me, Linc. The fight will never be over for me.” Lexia struggled for a way to explain, to make him understand. “Each morning is a battle to piece myself back together, to be strong for Lola. Each morning I have to hide the demons inside of me so she won’t see, so I won’t break. Do you understand? I’m not whole. I’m not sure I ever will be.”

“I don’t need you whole. I just need a piece, no matter how small.”

Lincoln shifted. The beauty of his panther still left her breathless. She stared after him, watching him run through the soft beams of light that broke the darkness. The space between them grew, a crater, deep and wide, the land between it barren and lifeless.

“I already gave you a piece. I just don’t own it anymore,” she whispered to the trees around her.

Wiping the tears she’d not realized had fallen, Lexia headed back. Her body tired, her soul exhausted, she knew Marcus would be chastising her when he saw her.

Chapter 43

He heard her screams the second the lights went out. All the extra pack guests were playing havoc with the generators.

“I’m on it,” Caleb called.

“Take Cade with you,” Lincoln called back. Caleb’s recovery was taking longer than expected. The bullet he’d taken for Lincoln had torn through several major organs. He’d held onto life by sheer stubborn will.

Lincoln’s feet were moving before the last screech of her scream had echoed through the house. Snarling at the hunters about to enter his house as he passed, they hesitated, hovering around the base of the stairs. Their presence on his homeland riled his panther. How the cat longed to sharpened its claws on their bones.

He opened the door to find her huddled into a tight ball. Rocking, her knuckles strained against white skin.

“It’s okay, baby. Shush, it’s okay. The generator gave up. Caleb is fixing it. The lights will be on in no time.”

He reached for her. She flinched away as his hands sought hers.

“Lexia, it’s me,” he told her gently, the fear she felt so hard for him to bear.

Taking her hands again, she accepted his touch this time, but still her heart beat as if it wanted out. Prying her from the tight ball she was in, her face lifted, terror etched in her eyes. Hands trembling, she whispered, “I’m not there. I’m not there.”

“Lex, look at me.” She didn’t even register his voice.
Does she even see me at all?
“Lexia, look at my eyes,” he growled low and firm.

His voice breaking through the terror encasing her, her eyes sought his, glowing softly in the dark.

“You are not there,” Lincoln repeated. “You are home. Focus on me. Stay with me.”

The rocking ceased. Her hands stopped trembling as she let out a breath, then inhaled with him, matching each inhale and exhale to his. “I’m not there. I’m with you.”

“I’m never letting you go again.” Though he meant every word, he knew it didn’t matter how hard he held on, she still drifted further away each day.

Lexia smiled, the softest, sweetest smile he’d seen since she’d been taken away. The joy that rushed through his blood was overwhelming. He’d waited so long for a connection, some sign his Lexia was still there, somewhere.

The light came on, flooding them in harsh light, bringing the shadows under her eyes into sharp focus. Lexia didn’t sleep well, the demons in her dreams chasing her into daylight.

Time froze. Staring unblinking and without breath, her eyes fractured. So many emotions hidden within their depths; fear, grief, guilt.

Lincoln clung onto the moment but it slipped away like water through his fingers, just as Lexia did. Snatching her hands back, she rebuilt her walls and he died a little more inside, the iron fist on his heart ruthless in its hold.

“Lexia, please,” he begged.

Moving back, crushing herself against the headboard, her eyes were frantic, looking everywhere but at him.

“Please,” he choked.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, finally looking at him.

The panther inside of him rose. Pacing inside of his mind, it took control. “I don’t want your apologies. I want your love.” Every word coated with the harshness of his beast.

A single tear slipped down her cheek, her body curling in on itself.

“A single tear, is that all our love gets?” His words cut her and he knew it. Yet the beast inside of him wouldn’t calm. It wanted to savage her. Forcing himself to leave the room before he damaged her more, her voice filled the void between them.

“Is that what you think? That I don’t love you?”

He paused but couldn’t look at her, afraid of what he’d see if he did. “What am I supposed to think?”

“I do, you know. I love you so, so much, and it’s because I love you that I can’t be with you.” She spoke every word as if it pained her; each broken murmur trembled.

“I don’t understand,” he said, finally facing her. The beast in him settled,
for now.

“I’ve done unspeakable things, things that haunt me. I drip blood, Lincoln. Shadowed in darkness, it follows me everywhere. Every day I have to build my walls to keep it in, and all it takes is one simple touch, one earth-shattering smile, and you crash through every defense I’ve ever built.”

When he said nothing, did nothing, she continued. “I’m leaving.”

Her words hit him like knives to his gut, each one making him flinch. “No. You can’t leave.” His eyes searched her face, hands pulling at his hair. “The war is over. We can be together now. There is no need for your walls.”

“Please, understand–”

“Understand?” he yelled, interrupting her. “All you’ve done is shut me out. You’ll scream in the night. You’re afraid of the dark, and you will not allow me to help you. I will never understand that.”

“You can’t help me,” she told him with a shake of her head. “Every time I look at you, I’m reminded of all I’ve lost.”

Visibly frustrated, his pulled at his hair, taking a step closer. “But you haven’t lost me. I’m right here.”

Needing to be strong, needing him to understand, Lexia unraveled herself from the bed. Standing in front of him, she forced her words to be level. “I don’t know how to be with you. You strip me bare, Linc, expose every crack, every broken piece of me. I have Lola now. I need to patch myself together and I can’t do that with you.”

“Who are you?” he whispered quietly. His voice barely audible, she didn’t think she was meant to hear.

“I don’t know,” she answered him softly. Taking his hand even though it pained her so, because no matter how far she wanted to run from him, she’d always love him. “My mission is over. I won, and now I need to work out what I won, because right now, I see more loss than gain. I know it isn’t fair. I know I’ve hurt you so much already, but if I’m ever going to find out who I am without the mission, I need to leave.”

Letting his hand drop, it fell limply from her hold. Shoulders hunched, face contorted in pain, he looked just as broken as she did and she hated herself for it.

She turned away from him, walking for the door when a loud crack filled the room. Looking back, Lincoln had put his fist through the wall. Plaster rained around him as he pulled his bleeding fist back. Eyes of panther gold looked at her with a feral edge. “I won’t let you,” he snarled, grabbing her wrist and hauling her against him.

Too shocked to fight, she slammed up against him with enough force to knock the air from her. His claws pierced her skin; drops of hot crimson stained the carpet.

“Linc, stop! You’re hurting me,” she said firmly, but it wasn’t the man she spoke with any longer. The beast inside Lincoln had finally ripped free and it wanted its mate, no matter the cost.

Feet pounded up the stairs drawn to the noise. Lexia didn’t take her eyes from Lincoln as she felt the others enter the room.
Never take your eyes off a predator when it is so intent on catching its prey.

“Lincoln, you’re hurting her,” Caden growled, stepping toward them.

Lincoln’s laugh was cruel, nothing like the man she’d once known.

Killing me will not change who you are, Maura. I made you, remember? And like me, you destroy everything you love.

“She’s a hunter, remember? She feels nothing.”

“Let her go, or we’ll be forced to make you,” Grey said, stepping forward, Sammy and Marcus by his side.

“You can’t keep me here,” Lexia told him, seeking eye contact, trying to get his attention on her and not the threats in the room.

He looked down at her, her panther with the human face. Full of pent-up anger, frustration and the pain of all he’d lost, he was as broken as she, yet Lexia just didn’t have the strength to put him back together. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

“I’m not that breakable, Wildcat,” he breathed, bending to her ear, nipping with his teeth.

The sensation sucked her back to a time when she could have melted against his touch, when the warm rush of heat down her spine wouldn’t have caused pain. No longer could she live in that time.

Lincoln landed in a heap, the remnants of his parents’ dresser splintered and broken around him. He looked up at her as she walked toward the people who’d followed her from hell. The gold glow of her eyes even now was wrong, her appearance of strength all an illusion. He’d not seen her once tap into the power inside of her, even when she’d sparred with the others. He’d not understood it at the time, yet now he did, because as she looked at him, her expression voicing her final goodbye, Lincoln saw the fear, the cracks, the broken pieces of her held together with nothing but sheer will. She was nothing like the girl he’d known. That girl had died on the battle field and this one, she was still crawling across it.

“Good bye,” she whispered.

He let her go. Understanding now that only Lexia could drag herself from that blood-stained forest. He wasn’t sure she’d ever return. He wasn’t sure there’d be anything left of him to return to. Lincoln’s heart shattered, the last fragile threads of his humanity falling away. He left the world and gave in to the beast inside of him.