The Darkness in Dreams (Enforcer's Legacy, #1)(74)

“Can you resist them?”

“Not easily.”

She paused. “Why did you leave Gaia and not come back?”

“Because I am a selfish bastard.”

He was leaning back, watching with lazy eyes, but she sensed his tension. She looked steadily at him.

“You accepted the Agreement without telling her, didn’t you?”

“I made a decision I had no right to make.” His voice was lower and thicker than before. “But I would not risk the possibility you would say no.”

And suddenly she understood what the Agreement had cost him, what he couldn’t explain. He’d bound himself into compliance in exchange for her safety, knowing she would resent him if she ever learned the truth. So complex, the emotions that drove this man, an immortal code of honor that fought against his human needs. Her eyes drifted over him, seeing with new understanding the scars that marked his body in ways the bronzed lines never could, telling of centuries of unwilling service to keep her from harm.

Her voice was barely above a whisper. “If you had asked me, the answer would have been yes, although I, too, now carry the guilt over what it did to you.”

Christan reached out and touched her face. His fingertips traced the moisture leaking from her eyes before his hand dropped to his lap. Lexi wanted to crawl to him but didn’t. His eyes were closed and she wondered if he was reliving the memories of loving and then leaving her. To distract him, she continued their conversation.

“Marge told me there’s a blood bond.”

“Marge is a wealth of information.”

“Will you tell me?”

His eyes remained closed. “In the original alchemy, signing a pact in blood creates a uniting of opposites, of souls. The lover receives immortality, while the warrior becomes more than what he was. But the bond might cause a loss of free will, or it might mean death. Nobody knows.”

“Is the magic always so unpredictable?”

“It would seem so.”

“And when you gave me that one word, did you think I could use it?”

“No. I thought if you tried I would know, but I didn’t think you had the strength.”

“So, you thought you were safe?”

“Not safe enough.” His lips twitched. He was laughing and trying not to let it show. It made her feel less guilty about putting him on the floor.

“You know I didn’t mean to do it.”

“I know.”

“Were you always named Christan?”

“No.”

“Will you tell me who you were?”

“My name was Charmion.”

“Who named you Christan?”

His eyes pinned her. “You did.”




“I did?”

He looked amused. “Right down there in that garden. You were five.”

“Five?” She was enthralled, watching the memory soften the guarded expression on his face.

“Your family owned this villa,” Christan said. “Your parents died the year before, and you and your older sister were living here. I was meeting your uncle on business.”

“I was Gemma? Did you know who I was?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “I was curious. You were wearing a white dress. You had a ring of daisies in your hair and you were stomping all over your aunt’s delphiniums. You were quite the little terror.”

“I was?” A smile kicked up the corner of her mouth. He looked so relaxed, without the weight of the world crushing him down. Lexi wanted this moment for him with such fierceness it was impossible to ignore.

She realized what it was, of course—that she was surrendering to the idea of loving him. But she had to tread carefully. This thing between them was both too new and too old, embodying everything she both feared and craved. She found it was easier to watch the expressions that relaxed his face.

“Yes,” Christan said. “An absolute terror.” He slipped back into a past she could not remember. “I watched you for a moment, and then squatted down and asked what was upsetting you. You had been chasing butterflies but couldn’t catch any, and you were furious. I reached out and caught one in my hand. I remember you held out your finger. I opened my hand, and the butterfly walked from my palm over to yours and sat there, drying its wings in the sun. You had the strangest expression on your face. Like you were in awe and maybe afraid it might bite you.” His fingers nipped at her foot, and Lexi jumped. The warm sound of his laughter filled the quiet room. She had never heard him laugh. She reached out and touched the back of his bronzed hand.

“What then?”

“The butterfly drifted away. You looked at me and demanded to know my name. When I told you, you couldn’t pronounce it, but you came right up to me. You put your hands on either side of my face, and said very solemnly, ‘Your name is Christan’.” He shrugged. “I’ve used that name ever since.”

“Did you buy the villa from my uncle?” Lexi asked.

“When he died, I covered the debts and offered the property to your aunt. She accepted to protect you and your sister, but privately she refused to claim ownership. She remained until her death two years later.”

“We lived here,” Lexi said. “Gemma never knew the property was yours. She thought you might have married her for it.”