"And then I straightened and unintentionally slammed my head into hers. I'm afraid we hit pretty hard. When I turned around, her nose was bleeding."
"A nosebleed," Lucian said with disbelief.
With Rachel attending to Leigh, he and Etienne had headed straight into the kitchen. They'd expected to find either a dead cleaner or a hysterical bleeding one. Knowing Leigh wouldn't yet have been able to control the woman's mind, they'd expected a bloody mess. What they found instead was a completely intact blonde, calmly scrubbing up drops of blood from the kitchen floor.
Spying them, she sat back on her haunches and asked if "the lady" was all right, then proceeded to explain what had happened.
"A nosebleed," Etienne echoed, and Lucian peered his way. They exchanged a relieved glance.
"Yes." The blonde was still looking worried. "Is she all right? She was pretty upset when she ran out of the kitchen. I tried to help, but she pushed me aside and hissed at me to stay away from her, then charged out. I didn't mean to hurt her."
"I'm sure she knows that," Etienne soothed, and Lucian left him to it. He had never been good at the touchy-feely handholding of emotional women.
"She has a... er... phobia," Etienne said, lying to explain away Leigh's odd actions.
Leaving him to his good-intentioned lies, Lucian slid from the room to go check on Leigh. While he'd rather have bamboo shoots shoved under his nails than willingly put himself in the same room as Rachel in the mood she was in, he suspected not going up there would just give her something else to criticize him for. Besides, he found himself oddly concerned about Leigh's well-being. She'd shown surprising strength by not biting the cleaner, especially at this point in her turning and with the scent of blood probably driving her wild. Most wouldn't have had such control. But then, she'd shown an incredible amount of character already.
Lucian had seen a lot of newly turned immortals down through the ages, and the majority didn't take it as well as Leigh had... at least not if they were turned unwillingly. But she appeared to have accepted what she'd become, and seemed determined to just get on with learning all she could about her new status and how to function as an immortal.
A pang of guilt nipped at Lucian as he realized he'd been of little help so far. Tired and dismayed to find himself burdened with her, at first his only concern had been to find someone to dump her on. He'd answered as few questions as possible, even going so far as to call Marguerite long distance in Europe so he didn't have to explain things to her himself.
Actually, he realized, every accusation Rachel had thrown at him over the last day had been true. Not that he'd admit that to her, he thought as he reached Leigh's room and opened the door.
The two women were seated on the side of the bed. While Rachel was rubbing her back soothingly, Leigh had a blood bag stuck to her mouth, tears were streaming down her face, her eyes were red and puffy, and her nose swollen and still bloody. She looked just adorable to him.
Pushing that thought impatiently away, Lucian narrowed his eyes and concentrated on slipping into her thoughts... and concentrated... and concentrated... and --
"She didn't bite the cleaning girl."
Lucian blinked at that announcement and glanced down to find Rachel now standing at his side. He'd been concentrating so hard on Leigh, he hadn't noticed when Rachel stood up and moved to join him by the door.
"I know," he said calmly. "The cleaning woman explained everything."
Rachel nodded and tilted her head, considering him with a solemn expression. "You still can't read her."
Lucian's mouth tightened but he didn't say anything. She was right, but he hadn't yet had time to come to grips with the issue himself, and certainly didn't want to discuss it with Rachel. Rather than address the subject, he asked, "How is she?"
For a moment he thought Rachel might ignore his question and pursue the matter of his not being able to read Leigh, but then she heaved a sigh and said, "She's upset. I think she's scared of herself now, of what she'll do."
Lucian relaxed a little and nodded. "I'll talk to her."
"You?" she asked with surprise, and he felt irritation flicker through him.
"I have been an immortal a long time, Rachel. I do know something of the matter."
"Yes, but this isn't -- This is -- " She grimaced, then simply said, "It's not about how many pints of blood she'll need a day, or what the change will do to her physically. It's emotional stuff, Lucian, and somehow I don't think that's your strong suit."
He glared at her for a moment, furious, mostly because she was correct. Emotional garbage wasn't really where he was at his finest. However, he was the one who had brought her here, and he was the one who couldn't read her. She might be his future life mate. It seemed to behoove him to learn how to deal with Leigh, and understand her emotional perspective so he could help her through this difficult landscape. Besides, how hard could it be?
"Etienne is down in the kitchen," he announced meaningfully, then left her to make her exit and walked to the bed.
Lucian heard the door close softly as he paused in front of Leigh. His gaze slid over the two empty bags on the end of the bed beside her, and he found himself smiling faintly. Leigh was binging. Consuming bag after bag of blood, in the hopes she'd fill herself up so she couldn't possibly be interested in biting again, he realized, then congratulated himself for being so insightful. Maybe this emotional stuff wasn't as hard as he'd thought.
His gaze shifted back to her and he noted that she'd stopped crying. Thank God! He hated weeping women. There was nothing so difficult to deal with as a weeping woman. They didn't listen, made no sense, and left a man feeling guilty and helpless. He hated that.
Feeling awkward just standing there, he settled himself on the bed where Rachel had previously sat, then turned to peer at Leigh. She met his gaze and they simply stared at each other as she continued to feed. Her eyes were huge and luminous after her tears, their color a beautiful golden brown now swirling with emotion. They were sad, but there was also shame, anger, hurt, and loneliness there. Lucian felt a twinge in his chest as he recognized the loneliness. It was something he often saw in his own eyes on looking in the mirror.
He reached out to pat her hand awkwardly, then cleared his throat before speaking, and still his voice came out gruff as he said, "It's all right."
When Leigh's eyes widened over the shrinking blood bag in her mouth, he added, "You didn't bite her. That was very strong of you. Not everyone could have resisted, but you did."
Lucian patted her hand again and said reassuringly, "You did good. I should have warned you about the hunger. This was not your fault. It's my fault for sleeping when you needed me."
Feeling he'd said what needed to be said to soothe her, he would have stood then and left, but found his gaze sliding over her again. She was wearing the same god-awful outfit she'd had on earlier; the overlarge joggers and a t-shirt she was swimming in. His gaze paused on the writing on the front of the t-shirt and his eyes widened incredulously: I'M THE TEENAGE GIRL YOU HAD CYBER SEX WITH IN THE CHAT ROOM.
Lucian blinked several times, one part of his mind telling him that as she had no clothes of her own here, the t-shirt was borrowed, and probably from Etienne. He was the computer geek in the family. The other part of his mind was wallowing in wholly inappropriate ideas. He wasn't sure what cyber sex was, but he did recall good old-fashioned sex, and while he hadn't been moved to indulge in it in... well, a period too long for any self-respecting man to admit to -- his mind had no problem throwing up image after image of himself naked and sweaty and entwined with an equally naked and sweaty Leigh.
Lucian closed his eyes and almost groaned aloud. He had a problem. He couldn't read Leigh, couldn't control her, and he was lusting after her. And that was rather startling. He was an old man. An old, old man, and she was so young compared to him. He didn't look old, but he sure as hell felt old sometimes... most of the time. All right, all of the time. And she was like spring, fresh and sweet and innocent to the ways of the world, as proven by the bruised, wounded look in her big wet eyes.
"Dammit!" Leigh snapped, pulling the now empty blood bag away from her mouth.
Well, she was mostly sweet and innocent, Lucian corrected as he opened his eyes to find her leaning to the side to retrieve yet another bag of blood from the refrigerator.
"I could just kill Donny!" she growled.
Okay, forget the sweet and innocent, he thought. It was overrated anyway. She was still young, Lucian thought wryly as she continued her rant.
"I nearly bit that girl. Why couldn't Donny have had a crush on someone else?"
Lucian stiffened. "A crush?"
"Well, why do you think he dragged me off the streets?" Leigh asked with exasperation. "He was rambling on about how he'd chosen me for his own, and we'd be together forever, eternally happy in our coffin built for two, blah blah blah. As if I'd want to be with any man forever."
"You don't?" Lucian asked with a frown.
"Hell no!" Leigh exclaimed firmly. "I've already been married once."
Lucian's eyebrows flew up. This was news to him.
"Three years of that was more than enough for several lifetimes," she informed him grimly.
Lucian pondered that, then asked, "Not a happy marriage, I take it?"
Leigh snorted. "Not if you don't like waking up bruised and battered every morning."
"He beat you?" Lucian asked, eyes narrowing. If there was one thing he hated, it was bullies and cowards, and a man who beat a woman was the worst kind of cowardly bully. "Give me his name and I will hunt him down and kill him for you."
Leigh paused and blinked at him in surprise, then shook her head. "Too late, he's dead." She smiled faintly and added, "Thanks for the offer, though."
From her tone of voice and expression, Lucian knew she thought he'd been joking. He hadn't, and opened his mouth to tell her so, but the sound of a throat being cleared drew his gaze to the door.
"Lucian, can I speak to you?" Rachel said, her eyes wide and eyebrows flying about in a manner that suggested to him she felt it was important. He glanced back to Leigh to find she'd popped a fresh bag of blood to her mouth. With no excuse to avoid it, he reluctantly joined Rachel by the door.
"You didn't leave," he accused her, and glared.
Rachel waved that away as unimportant and ushered him into the hall.
"You can't tell her you were serious about killing her husband," she said firmly as soon as the door was shut.
"Why?" Lucian asked with surprise.
"Because killing is wrong," she said, as if speaking to a particularly dull-witted child.
Lucian snorted at the suggestion. "Rachel, once you've lived a couple hundred years, you'll come to realize that some people just need killing. For those people, killing them isn't wrong, it's the not killing them and leaving them to hurt others that is."
"Lucian -- "
"Should we leave Morgan to go around ripping the throats out of unsuspecting mortals -- like Leigh -- willy-nilly?" he interrupted.
Rachel blinked, hesitated, then said, "No, of course not, but... "
"But?" Lucian arched his eyebrows.
"But Morgan's an immortal."
"Ah." He nodded with sudden understanding. "I see."
"You see what?" Rachel sounded annoyed.
"You're a racist."
"What?" she cried with shock. "How could I be racist against immortals? I am one."
"That may be, but if you believe it's all right to kill off immortals who hurt and turn unwilling people, but not humans who hurt and kill... " He shrugged. "Perhaps you haven't fully embraced your new status."
"That's not it at all. It's just... It's not the same thing," Rachel argued, but there was little heat behind her words, and he could see she was considering the matter. That was enough for him.
"Very well, I won't tell Leigh that I wasn't joking about killing her husband. He's dead anyway, so it doesn't matter. However," Lucian added, his voice becoming irritated, "I would appreciate it if you'd stop reading my damned mind."
"I -- "
"Don't even try to deny it, Rachel," he interrupted. "The only way you could have known what I was about to say was if you'd been reading my thoughts."
She shrugged, a guilty smile curving her lips, then tilted her head and asked, "Why can I read your mind all of a sudden, Lucian?" When he just frowned, she added, "I've never before been able to do it."
He remained silent and avoided her gaze.
"Though, as I recall," Rachel went on. "Etienne had a problem controlling his thoughts, too, when we were first together. It annoyed him no end that everyone could suddenly read his thoughts and he couldn't block them as usual."
Lucian's mouth twitched.
"Is it something to do with the life mate thing?" she asked curiously.
"She isn't my life mate," he ground out stubbornly and Rachel shook her head with disgust.
"I know, you know it's true. You just want private time to adjust. I can read your mind, remember?"
"And you've taken full advantage of that," Lucian responded grimly. He'd been subconsciously aware of a ruffling of his thoughts several times earlier that morning and this afternoon while Rachel and Etienne were there, but was too distracted to pay it much attention. Now he realized that while he'd been fretting over Leigh, Rachel -- and perhaps Etienne, too -- had stolen in and been rifling through his thoughts like a couple of thieves.
"Yes, I have," she said without shame. "And I'm glad I did."
His gaze narrowed on her warily. "Why?"
Rachel hesitated, then chose to ignore the question and said instead, "She is your life mate, Lucian. Even you have acknowledged that in your subconscious, if not consciously."
"That doesn't mean I have to do anything about it," he pointed out.
"No, I don't suppose it does," she agreed quietly. "You can ignore it and dump her on someone else to deal with and then avoid her, I suppose. But tell me one thing."
"What?" Lucian asked warily.
"In all your years of living -- and there have been many I know -- how many other people, mortal or immortal, have you come across that you could not read or control?"
"Easily a hundred," Lucian answered promptly.
Rachel's eyes narrowed and he felt the ruffling in his head, then she said dryly, "I mean those who haven't been insane." She shook her head. "And don't bother lying again. I already know that Leigh is the first sane woman you've met since the fall of Atlantis whom you couldn't read or control."
Lucian stared over her shoulder, not responding.
"Are you willing to wait several more millennia? Alone?"
Lucian frowned at the suggestion. In truth, he was already tired of living. When he was home alone, he was bored. When he was out working for the council, he was bored plus angered, depressed, exhausted, and saddened by the cruelty and uncaring he saw around him. People could treat other humans -- whether mortal or immortal -- worse than the cruelest master would treat a dog, and sometimes he just...
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he let those thoughts go. The truth was, ever since pulling Leigh out of the doorway in that kitchen in Kansas City, his life had been altered. He'd been annoyed, exasperated, curious, excited, and interested by turn. His life was actually more interesting at the moment than it had been in centuries, perhaps millenia. Had he not taken her from that house, he would now be in Kansas hunting Morgan. Once that was over, he'd be at home, watching all the latest releases on the movie channels, reading the latest releases of books, then dipping into old movies and old classics to fill time once those were caught up on... Or he'd sit alone in the dark, staring at the walls, trying not to think of the things he'd done and seen in his life.
But since arriving here with Leigh... well... he had done none of that. Between cleaning up after Julius and caring for Leigh during the turning, he hadn't had time for anything else.
To be honest, he had no idea what to expect next. From anyone. Rachel, who normally just glared and glowered at him, seemed to be trying to help. Thomas, who normally would have jumped around at his beck and call, was avoiding him. And Leigh... well... he didn't have a clue what to expect from her. First, she'd taken this all much better than he'd expected, and now she was having fits over almost biting someone.
"Lucian," Rachel said quietly, drawing his attention back to her. "When I first met you at Lissianna and Greg's wedding, I thought you were the meanest, coldest son of a bitch on the planet."
"Thank you, Rachel. I do try," he said drolly.
Her lips twitched with amusement at his sarcasm, but she reminded him, "You threatened to have me killed if I didn't toe the line and lie about what Pudge had done."
"He tried to kill Etienne and nearly killed you instead," Lucian began impatiently. "All we wanted you to do was -- "
"It doesn't matter." Rachel waved it away with some impatience of her own. "The point is I've been angry with you ever since then."
"Yes, I did notice," he said dryly.
"But," Rachel continued determinedly, "not so angry that I haven't seen your position in this family."
Lucian's gaze narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you are the strength and backbone. Everything you do -- including threatening me that day -- you do for your family and your people. I've seen it," she argued, as if expecting him to deny it. "They all look to you for answers and strength, and you give them both in spades. You do whatever it takes -- hard, mean, or just plain nasty if necessary -- to keep them safe and protect them."
Rachel shook her head. "And you do it alone. It must be a heavy burden. Don't you think you deserve someone to share that burden with at the end of a long day?"
Lucian looked away, touched by her words and the sadness he saw in her eyes. It was unexpected from Rachel.
"And this isn't just about you, is it?" Etienne asked, making his presence known.
Lucian and Rachel glanced sharply to the side as he moved up the hall to join them. He stopped and put a hand on Lucian's shoulder, his expression solemn as he said, "Think of Leigh, Uncle."
When Lucian stilled, he continued, "Leigh doesn't realize how long a long time can be alone. We do. You more than I." He looked sad. "I only had three hundred years alone, but you've had ten times that. I've never understood how you've stayed as human as you are so long without a mate. But you have. I don't know if Leigh's that strong. I know you can't read her, but we can. She's lonely already."
"But she doesn't have to be," Rachel said.
"Okay, you can stop," Lucian said dryly. "You had me convinced already without bringing on the guilt of leaving Leigh without a life mate."
The couple beamed at him, and Lucian rolled his eyes, then narrowed them when he noticed that Rachel's smile was fading, concern taking its place.
"What?" he asked, wary again.
"I just -- I'm worried that Leigh might prove a bit resistant."
"What?" he asked with amazement. He had been so wrapped up in his own reluctance to acknowledge Leigh as his life mate, he hadn't considered that she might be less than enthusiastic herself. "Why?"
"When her grandfather died and Leigh was suddenly alone in the world, she married a man who turned out to be an abusive jerk. Leigh blames herself for that. She feels she was weak in needing someone and is determined to prove that she can be strong, that she doesn't need anyone. She's afraid of making another mistake."
Rachel had obviously done a lot of digging in Leigh's head... and -- since he couldn't do it himself -- he was grateful for it, Lucian acknowledged, then frowned. "How do you suggest I convince her otherwise?"
Rachel bit her lip. "I think you'll have to prove to her that you're trustworthy, that you aren't someone who is going to hurt her, and aren't a mistake."
"How?"
Etienne raised his eyebrows at his wife expectantly even as Lucian asked the question, but she remained silent for so long that Lucian felt sure she didn't have a clue until she said, "I think your best bet with Leigh is to sneak up on her."
Etienne peered at her with disbelief. "You just finished saying that Uncle Lucian had to prove himself trustworthy. Now you're saying the best way for him to do that is to sneak up on her? What kind of logic is that?"
"Women's logic," Lucian said wryly, and received a glare from Rachel for his trouble.
"I don't mean -- " Rachel began, then shook her head. "I -- "
"I think the easiest thing to do," Etienne interrupted when she floundered again, "would be for us to explain to her about life mates and then tell her that Uncle Lucian can't read her, or control her, and so" -- he shrugged -- "he is her life mate."
"I think that would be a mistake," Rachel said at once, her voice firm. "I think a straight on approach would be a mistake with Leigh. I think she'd run from that, raise her defenses and back off emotionally."
"Then what do you suggest?" Lucian asked dryly.
Rachel pursed her lips as she thought, then said, "I think you have to approach her in a nonthreatening manner, as a friend, or a teacher."
"Hmmm," Etienne murmured. "The teacher idea's good. She has to be taught to control her teeth and so on. That would be a good approach."
"Okay." Lucian nodded. He could do that, he could train her in her new abilities and skills, and teach her to differentiate between food hunger and hunger for blood. Teaching her how to control and read minds and how to feed on a living human was also necessary. If an emergency cropped up, the immortal had to know how to do it properly without causing pain or injury. They also had to know when to stop feeding so they didn't accidentally kill their host. He wouldn't necessarily like it, but he could do it. "And then what?"
Rachel and Etienne exchanged a glance, then she sighed. "I'm not sure. I'll think about it, though. You start with that and I'll come up with something else."
Lucian nodded slowly. The training would take a while, he supposed. And he'd think, too, see if he couldn't come up with some way to approach her as well.
"I guess we should leave," Rachel said. "I have to head to work soon."
"I have some work to do myself," Etienne said with a nod, then glanced at his uncle. "We'll think about this and -- "
"Greg!" Rachel blurted, and both men glanced at her with blank expressions.
"Lissianna's husband Greg?" Etienne asked with a confusion equal to Lucian's.
"Yes," she said, suddenly excited. Lucian didn't think that boded well, and was sure of it when Rachel explained, "He's a psychologist. He'll know how best to approach Leigh about it. We should get him over, let him talk to her, get a feel for what she's like and -- "
"No," Lucian interrupted firmly.
Rachel blinked in confusion. "Why not?"
Why not, indeed? Lucian thought. The answer was that Gregory Hewitt was even less fond of him than Rachel. The man hadn't yet forgiven him for taunting him into going through the change without drugs. There had been no choice with Leigh, since he hadn't had any drugs available to him on the plane. However, with Greg's turning, there had been drugs available, but he'd taunted the man into proving himself by going without them.
In truth, Lucian hadn't expected him to stick to it, but Greg Hewitt had proven himself as stubborn as any of the Argeneau men. Ever since then, however, Greg hadn't been overly fond of his new uncle. It was bad enough having Rachel and Etienne help him with this problem. Lucian didn't think he could bear the humiliation of Lissianna's husband knowing he needed help landing a woman as well.
"I'm sure he'd understand," Rachel said sympathetically, and Lucian growled under his breath as he realized she'd read his mind... again.
"In fact, I don't think he's really angry anymore, and reading your thoughts would probably make you two closer. He'd understand -- like I now do -- that you're a great big marshmallow under all that bluster and crust."
Lucian's eyes widened in horror at this accusation, his mouth working but nothing coming out as he sought for some response strong enough to express his dismay at her altered opinion of him. A marshmallow? He wasn't a damned marshmallow! He was cold, and mean and hard enough to do what had to be done when others faltered. He was a damned warrior, had slain both mortal and immortal down through the ages with sword, knife, mace, spear, lance --
"I think we'd better go now," Etienne said, eyeing his uncle warily as he took Rachel's elbow to lead her quickly up the hall. They were at the stairs before his nephew glanced back to add, "We'll call you later, after we've thought of ways to handle Leigh. And after you've calmed down."
Lucian simply glared as the pair made good their escape.
"Lucian?"
He turned slowly, his anger slipping away as he saw Leigh standing in the door to her room. Her nose had healed and she'd washed her face. She looked about ten years old standing there with no makeup on and in Etienne's clothes.
"Yes?" he asked gruffly.
"I think I'm going to lie down for a while," she said. "I thought I should let you know."
"That's fine," he said at once. "Sleep is the best thing for you at the moment."
Lucian glanced toward the stairs as he heard the front door close behind Rachel and Etienne, then glanced back to add, "I'll be in the library for a while. I have some calls to make, but I'll check on you in a bit."
"There's no need to check on me. I'll probably only sleep for an hour or so," Leigh said with a smile as she turned back into the room, then paused to add, "Bastien asked me to have you call him when you woke up."
"Thank you," Lucian murmured.
The door had barely closed softly behind her when the door to his own room opened next to it and an older woman came out, dragging Marguerite's vacuum behind her.
"Oh, hello," the woman said on spotting him. "You must be Mr. Argeneau."
Lucian stared blankly. He hadn't a clue who the woman was.
Seeming to recognize that by the expression on his face, she smiled wryly and said, "I'm Linda. From Speedy Clean? We -- "
"Oh, yes, yes," Lucian said, giving his head a shake. He'd entirely forgotten about the cleaning people.
"I've done all the rooms up here but this one," she announced, approaching the door he stood in front of. "I'll just do it now, then move downstairs."
"There's no need," Lucian said. "This room is fine. Besides, Leigh is sleeping in there now."
"Oh, all right. I'll just head down to help Andrea with the main floor, then."
Lucian watched her head downstairs, then turned to the door before him. He stared at the wooden panel for a moment, then reached out to touch it.
His life mate lay on the other side. Countless millennia alone and now he had a life mate. All he had to do was convince her of it.