The Darkness in Dreams (Enforcer's Legacy, #1)(17)

“But you’re afraid of him every time he comes close.”

“No more than I’m afraid of you right now.”

Wallace looked directly at her, then returned his gaze to the rocks. “Makes no difference to me, but there might be a good reason why you’re afraid.”

“Any you’d know that reason?”

An empty silence fell hard between them. After a long moment Wallace shifted his stance. His face reminded her of a statue carved in stone, remote, immortal. He pushed the hair from her face, lingered, his palm warm on her cheek. His thumb moved; she thought he was brushing away tears but she wasn’t crying.

“Just trying to help, babe.”

“Then maybe you should stop throwing me into the rocks.”

The soft skittering again, now with pebbles trickling down the path. Tension increased. Wallace reached into his pocket. A moment later, a cell phone landed near her feet.

“Call if you ever want to chat.”

He turned and disappeared around the cliff. For endless seconds, Lexi stood until she sat down hard onto the rocky ground, dropping the phone twice before hugging it against her chest. She was still hugging it when Christan pulled her to her feet.




“That didn’t take long.” Christan dragged his hands across her shoulders, then down each leg in an unnecessary search. The goal was intimidation. When he found her fisted hand, she threw her weight to the side and tried to twist away.

“Christan,” Arsen warned, but Christan stepped back, his arm locked around her waist. She resisted with a fierce, wild movement that set his nerves on fire.

“She called him Wallace,” Robbie said, coming into view and breathing hard. “He disappeared around that cliff. Gave her a phone.”

Christan loosened Lexi’s clenched hand, yanked the phone away and shoved it in his back pocket.

“I don’t think she knows who he is,” Robbie continued. “He threw her against the rocks when she wouldn’t go with him.”

Christan felt no sympathy, only anger when she stabbed stiff fingers into his wrist, trying to break his hold. Bending down, he spoke against her ear.

“We watched on the drone’s cameras.”

“I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Her voice reminded him of night and heat and Christan wanted to pull her hard against his body. He was a big man. Towered over her and she still kept fighting. She tried to twist his thumb upward. He got so hard it hurt.

“Did you think we wouldn’t know?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“I don’t give a damn what you know.” She gave up on torturing his thumb and began pushing against his arm. Christan tightened the pressure until the struggling stopped.

“Were you meeting him here?”

“No.”

“Are you calling him later?”

“Are you some kind of crazy person?” Lexi arched back. Strands of blond hair caught in his mouth. “I was not out here meeting anyone.”

“His name is Kace.” Christan ground the words with the same aggression as he ground the taste of her hair from his tongue. “And you were rubbing yourself all over him.”

“Oh, good god—who talks like that?”

Christan didn’t answer. He couldn’t. She continued her desperate little rant.

“That was Wallace. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize him, since that recommendation came from an acquaintance in Montana. Oh, right,” she added, “that was when you were lying about being an event planner.”

Christan tightened his arm and jerked her close. The scent of his enemy was still in her hair. When she shifted to keep her balance, her hips pressed against his groin and he hissed in a breath, barely keeping it together. The fire in his tattoos was fucking burning so hot he started to sweat and knew he was on the verge of shifting.

“Christan,” Arsen warned again. Several seconds passed before Christan relaxed his arm. Lexi stumbled away and Christan saw the wariness in her eyes. He wondered what Kace said in those rocks.

“Lexi,” Arsen said. “What were you doing out here?”

“Walking.”

“Did you call him to come out here?”

“With what phone?”

Christan held up the cell phone he’d pried from her hand. An angry flush moved up her throat and he thought about licking her skin until the flush spread. Right. Here. In front of everyone.

“Robbie explained. Wallace gave me that phone a few minutes ago. I could hardly call if he was already here.”

“The man you were talking to is named Kace.”

“You must be confused.”

“We don’t misidentify our enemies.”

“Enemies.” The word was hard and Christan heard the accusation. Not the present-day accusation, but one much older, filled with bitterness and pain. Emotions she’d carried centuries ago.

Her posture had grown regal, her voice precise. “I was walking, not meeting anyone. As for who I met, I don’t care if you call him Abraham fucking Lincoln. I call him Wallace and I have no idea why he was out here today, nor do I care to explain anything when you can’t even be civil.” Lexi was looking at Arsen, Christan realized, not him, to whom she owed the explanation. And he heard the hesitation, as if there was more to the meeting than she admitted. Resentment was hot and heavy in his veins.