The Darkness in Dreams (Enforcer's Legacy, #1)(33)

“Arsen will see that. Robbie already knows whatever you did, you were only protecting yourself.”

“I thought he was dead when Robbie was bending over him.”

“Robbie was talking to Christan telepathically,” Marge said. “Warriors will shift instinctively when they’re wounded, but it can kill them.” She pulled Lexi close for a fierce hug before stepping back and moving into a take-charge mode. “I’ll find out what’s happening. Do you need anything?”

Lexi said no, her eyes bleak. With a nod Marge left and closed the door behind her. Through the window, Lexi caught the flash of movement, and moments later she heard strong male voices, along with booted feet crunching across a littered floor. Then the scrape of chairs being righted, and the sound of a table moved. Lexi wanted to reach for the imprints that were settling in the other room, but she was afraid of what the earth might reveal.

They left her alone, even Marge, and when the door opened an hour later, it was Arsen who walked into the room. Gone was the surfer boy persona, throwing twigs into a fire. This man was hard with the experience of centuries in his eyes. He’d bled and fought at Christan’s side and he would not be swayed against a purpose he judged as right. No matter who was at fault. Lexi stood at the window and watched him approach with that same lethal intensity they all wore like second skins. She didn’t doubt Arsen’s loyalty, nor Robbie’s, or any of the men still moving around on the other side of the wall.

“How is he?”

“Alive.”

Lexi’s knees trembled, but she remained straight with her back to the light. The anger on Arsen’s face told her she hadn’t been forgiven. “What do I need to do?”

“For what?”

“So you won’t look at me like that.”

Arsen turned away and prowled with a restless energy. “I’m angry right now. This is my fault. It was too soon, but I thought he had enough time out of the Void. I thought you—”

“I’m sorry,” she interrupted. The tiny cuts on her hands burned as she rubbed her palms against her jeans. She rubbed harder.

“It was my miscalculation,” Arsen was saying. “I underestimated the effect Kace would have—"

“Stop.” She waited until he looked at her. “I can’t be around him, you see that now. You have to let me go back to Rock Cove.”

“No can do, Slick. You aren’t going anywhere.”

“Give me a break, Arsen.” She couldn’t call him Bucko, not now, not after what she’d done. Maybe not ever.

“No one blames you,” he said.

“You don’t need to. It was stupid personal fight in the middle of an attack and I left him vulnerable, all of you—”

“He’s safe, Slick. That flash-bang was a diversion. This area is secure.”

“It was still unforgivable.” Lexi walked to the bed, perched on the edge. After a moment Arsen joined her, his weight dipping the mattress. He reached over and took her hand, studied the new memory lines. Dread lay heavy in her throat.

“It’s Christan, isn’t it?” she asked. “I seriously hurt him, didn’t I?”

“He’ll be all right.”

“We hurt each other, Arsen. I don’t understand why, but it will only get worse.”

“I still can’t let you leave.”

Arsen pulled out his phone, manipulated the screen and then held it out to her. There were photos. Lexi frowned as she tried to make sense of them, scrolling with dawning recognition. Her cottage, trashed. The door torn from the hinges. Her bedroom, her sanctuary, grotesquely ruined. The linen headboard—it took a minute to realize it was a cat nailed upside down. Blood dripped and pooled on the pillow where she laid her head, and with increasing horror she recognized the cat—little more than a kitten. He lived in the woods behind the cottage, feral but always eager for the food she left out, gaining confidence until the day he curled in her lap. A sob choked in her throat.

Arsen gently took the phone from her hand. “We’re already cleaning it up. In a month or two you’ll have a whole new interior from the studs up. Everything will be fresh.”

“Will it look the same?” She scrubbed the tears from her face. Angry. So… angry, for the cat that was not a kitten but still trusted too much.

“The important things will be there.”

“Do you even know what they are?”

He probably did; he’d been watching long enough. But things were not memories and she could never get those moments back no matter how hard she squeezed the bits of glass, stroked the driftwood. They were as ephemeral as an email account that remained open even though it never received mail.

“Who did it—do you know?”

“Not yet. But we will.”

“They killed a helpless cat.”

“And they’ll do the same to you.” Arsen took her hand again, stroking as much for her comfort as his own. “Your personal possessions are being packed up as we speak. Your cottage will be secured until you want it again.”

“I have a business to run, clients who expect information on their locations.”

“We already have your laptop. Ethan ran remote security scans and changed the tracking programs, so all your emails and internet searches will originate from Rock Cove. You’ll have a private cabin at our compound in the Wallowa Mountains. It’s not far from here.” He moved slightly. “No one will find you, Slick. You’ll be safe there. From everyone. You can recover from this.”