The Light and Fallen (19 page)

"I heard you think I'm dangerous." Jack's
voice was light, but she could hear an undercurrent to his words
that she couldn't quite identify.

"Where did you hear that?" Samara snuck a
look at Jack and couldn't help bursting into laughter at the
expression on his face.

"Where do you think?"

"I don't even have to guess," she said.

Jack lowered his voice so much that she could
barely hear his words, although he was leaning towards her. "Is it
true?"

Samara shifted uncomfortably, unsure of the
turn the conversation was taking. "Sometimes, I guess."

Jack reached across the space that separated
them and rested a hand on each of her knees. "Why would you think
that?"

Samara pressed back against the window. She
didn't feel threatened by his nearness, but it overwhelmed her and
made her feel like her blood was running hot and cold at the same
time. "I was kind of joking."

"Really?"

Samara could hear skepticism in his voice and
knew he could see the truth in her, no matter what words fell from
her lips. "I just see the effect you have on people," she said. "It
seems like you can get them to do pretty much whatever you
want."

"Pretty much," Jack conceded. He rested his
hand on his chin. "But not you. Why do you think that is?"

Samara felt like all the air was being sucked
out of the room as he locked his gray eyes on hers. He was closer
than he had ever been before, and she could see light flecks in his
pupils. She was aware of every sensation on her skin: the heat of
his hand resting on her knee, the cool rush of air that slipped
around a crack in the window, the feel of her face against her
sweater as she turned her cheek against her arm. "I wouldn't say
you have no effect on me."

"Then why wouldn't you go out with me?"

She heard amusement mingled with frustration
in his voice and searched his face. "I'm not sure I like the effect
you have."

Jack could see the pulse in Samara's neck
racing, although she managed to keep her voice even, and it made
him burn with a desire to slap her, but also to jerk her across the
small space that separated them and press his lips against hers. As
hard as she was trying to conceal it, the flush of her skin
betrayed her body's response to his touch. He shifted closer to
intensify the effect of his nearness. He was sure that if she would
only yield a little, he would have her. He watched her with a sense
of grudging respect as she took a small sip of her drink and stared
out into the darkness. She was only human of course, yet somehow
she was able to resist.

Samara glanced at her watch. "I'm really
sorry, but I think I need to head home." She nodded toward the
window where large raindrops were beginning to splatter against the
panes. "I know it's not that late, but the rain is really starting
to come down."

"You don't have to go," Jack said. "You could
stay here."

Samara laughed as she uncrossed her legs. "I
don't we're at that stage in our relationship."

"I'm serious," Jack said. "We have five extra
bedrooms. You could stay in one of them, safe and sound, and I
could bring you home in the morning."

He almost held his breath as he waited for
her answer, but after a second of hesitation she shook her head. "I
don't think that's a good idea."

Jack grabbed her hand as she stood up and
concentrated all of his focus on her. As he watched, a spark flared
in her eyes, but just as quickly it faded and she stepped away.

He released her hand instantly. He was
fighting to control his anger, but managed to keep his smooth
façade in place. He could offer her everything, things she couldn't
even imagine, but she refused to see it. He rested his fingers
lightly on her elbow as he guided her down the stairs and through
the first floor. The house was filled with music and laughter, but
he could barely hear it. Although outwardly he appeared calm, his
blood was boiling.

As they passed the kitchen, he saw Desiree.
She was sitting on a barstool with her long legs crossed. As he
watched she raised her glass and gave him a savage, mocking smile.
He knew she could see straight through his pretenses, and he longed
to lunge at her and rip the glee from her face. Instead he threw
open the front door and stepped out into the storm.

Samara sat in silence as the dark pavement
raced by. Jack was speeding in spite of the fact that the rain, now
pouring down in sheets, made the lines on the road almost
impossible to see.
I never should have come
, she thought
regretfully.

Although he hadn't said a word, she knew Jack
was upset. She fought back a twinge of guilt as her eyes traced the
outline of his profile, barely visible in the darkness of the car.
She had used him. She'd wanted to get back at Lucian, and now she
felt worse than ever. She reached tentatively across the center
console and lay her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
The words felt useless as they dropped into the silence of the
car.

Jack's stone face twitched at her words. She
heard a long, slow breath hiss out between his teeth, and then the
world was spinning. He jerked the wheel of the Mustang hard to the
right, sending the back tires skidding over the slick surface of
the road. The force of the motion threw her back against the car
door and she closed her eyes and clung to her seatbelt.

Jack gunned the engine and the car bounced
over the nearest curb. Something underneath crunched, and she heard
a harsh grating sound as he slammed on the brakes. When the car
finally stopped moving, her heart was beating in her throat. She
was shaking, gasping for breath. "What are you doing?" she
exclaimed. "Trying to kill us?"

Jack turned his whole body toward her. He
radiated physical power, and his dark eyes glowed with a feral
intensity that made the skin on the back of her neck prickle.
"You're sorry?" he repeated.

A clap of thunder shook the car and she
longed to be away from here, away from the storm and the
consequences of her own stupid decisions. Her white knuckled hands
still clenched the seatbelt, and she felt about two breaths away
from shattering into a thousand pieces. "Please take me home," she
said.

Jack didn't move. Although the rain battered
the outside of the car, the air between them felt as still as
death. A flash of lightening lit their faces, and he reached one
hand toward her. He brushed it gently across her face and twined
his fingers through her hair. "Are we really so different?" he
asked, his voice dangerously soft.

Samara tried to lean away from him in the
confined space, but he knotted his fingers into her hair and pulled
her roughly toward him. "Stop!" she cried. Her eyes watered as he
twisted her hair tightly over his knuckles. "I want to go
home."

His eyes were frightening. They burned with a
deep, inner flame that distorted his chiseled features. Every trace
of elegance and control was gone, replaced with something wild and
untamed. "I just want to see what makes you so special," he
growled. He leaned close, and his hot, heavy breath blew against
her cheek. He wrapped one of his hands around her neck and rested
his thumb at the base of her throat. She tried to turn away, but he
refused to let her. Instead he forced her face up to meet his.

She reached behind her back and fumbled for
the door handle as the tips of Jack's fingers dug into her jaw. The
sharp pain took her breath away, and her fingers scrabbled
uselessly against the window. "I said 'Stop!'" she pleaded. She
jerked away and pressed back hard against the floorboard, wedging
herself into the corner of the seat, and jabbed frantically at the
seat belt. Fear was blinding her, and she cursed her stupid,
trembling fingers.

Jack watched her struggle with amusement.
"You're very interesting," he said. His eyes narrowed and she felt
like a mouse in front a very dangerous cat. "For example," he
continued, "you're much stronger than you look."

The seatbelt finally released and flew into
the window with a violent crack. Immediately Jack lunged across the
seat and clamped his fingers around her left wrist. She struggled
to get away, but he pinned her arm up against the headrest and
ground his mouth against hers.

She twisted her free arm behind her back and
tried again to reach the door handle. Even if she could escape, she
doubted she could outrun him. Still, she would go down fighting.
She was pressing against the door with all her strength when it
suddenly flew open, and she fell backwards into the safety of
Lucian's arms.

He lifted her up and cradled her against his
chest. The pouring rain soaked her hair and clothes instantly, and
she buried her head in his shoulder and tried to stop her teeth
from chattering. She was too relieved to wonder how or why he was
there; she simply clung to him. She pressed herself into the hard
muscles of his body and let his warmth thaw the icy knot of fear in
her stomach.

He seemed oblivious to the rain as he stroked
her hair. "Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded mutely into his shoulder. She was
afraid that if she opened her mouth to speak, she would start
crying and not be able to stop. She could feel tenderness along her
jaw where it pressed against his collarbone and wondered vaguely if
she was bruised.

She turned her head slightly and glanced
around the deserted parking where Lucian was standing. Most of the
overhead lights were out, but a few flickered feebly, sending eerie
flashes of light through the darkness. Her head ached, and a
numbing coldness was creeping into her skin as her wet clothes
clung to her body. The whole scene had the surreal, nightmarish
quality of a dream she couldn't wake up from.

The door of the Mustang slammed as Jack
climbed out of his car. He seemed to have regained control of
himself, and the wild fire was gone from his eyes. He eyed Lucian
with contempt. "Well, well," he drawled, "the loyal protector."

Samara felt a flickering surge of heat roll
up Lucian's body. His chest burned like fire; she almost expected
to see steam rise from the places where her clothes pressed against
his body. "I'm doing what I'm meant to do," he said. "Can you even
remember what your purpose used to be?"

Jack snorted. "I find that hard to believe.
Why would a Dominion be called down just to chase after a girl?" He
looked at Samara, huddled against Lucian's chest, and smiled in
disdain. "Especially such an ordinary one.

"What I think," he continued, "is that you're
a failure."

Lucian's muscles tensed beneath her as Jack's
mocking voice filled her ears. He continued to hold Samara securely
in the circle of his arms, but he backed away from the side of the
car, putting distance between himself and Jack. He moved slowly and
kept his eyes fixed on his enemy. "Can you stand?" he murmured.

She nodded into the warmth of his neck, and
he carried her a few yards away to where his truck was parked
haphazardly. Its radio was still on, the headlights still blazing.
He lowered her to the ground and her knees wobbled beneath her as
her feet touched the uneven asphalt. She realized that she was
shaking violently, and she clung to his arm as she struggled to
find her balance.

He rested his hand on her head and pressed
his cheek against her hair. "I just need a minute," he said. "Then
I swear, I'll stay with you forever." His voice dropped and he drew
back and looked at her with smoldering eyes. "Whatever the
cost."

He supported her with one arm and opened the
passenger door of the truck with the other, and she forced herself
to step away from his warmth and safety. She leaned against him for
support as she climbed in, and tried to ignore the trembling that
threatening to overwhelm her. He leaned in and brushed his lips
against her temple. "Whatever happens," he said, "don't get out of
the truck."

He slammed the door firmly, shutting out the
wind and rain, and turned to face his enemy across the parking lot.
Although Jack seemed to be in control of himself, his skin glowed
faintly in the darkness. He tried to focus on Jack's face, but all
he could see were Samara's frightened eyes and the red marks that
stood out against her fair skin. He berated himself for not trying
harder to keep her away from Jack, for not finding some way to stop
this. Jack had targeted her because of him. He had made her
unsafe.

His blood pounded through his body as he
crossed the few yards that separated them. Jack waited, leaning
against the hood of the Mustang with his arms crossed. Lucian could
see a smile playing around the edges of his mouth, and he clenched
his fists as a wave of hatred rocked him to his core. The backs of
his knuckles tingled, and as he looked down a spark of light zipped
across his hand and disappeared underneath his sleeve.

"Showing your true colors," Jack said. He
glanced toward the truck where Samara's face was pressed against
the glass, ghostly pale. "Is she really worth it?"

Without thinking, Lucian launched himself at
Jack. The momentum of his attack carried them both backwards,
forcing Jack into the side of the car and shattering the passenger
window. He slammed his fist into Jack's face as hard as he could,
and heard a sharp pop as his head snapped back.

Adrenaline rushed through his body, but
Lucian forced himself to drop his arm. He took a step back and
fought to regain control of the rage that was roaring through his
body. The sparks were flying across his torso and up and down his
arms like lightning now; he had to restrain himself from turning.
"You didn't have to hurt her!"

"I know." Jack turned his head to the side
and spat blood out of his mouth. "But I was curious." His lip
curled lasciviously. "I had to find out why you liked her so
much."