Lucan glanced at the patrolman still waiting by the curb. “I have already arranged alternate transportation.” He hesitated before he asked, “Is Lady Samantha there?”
“No, my lord. My lady departed shortly after eight and has not returned. She did not mention to anyone her destination.” Burke waited for his response, and then said, “I could call Captain Garcia—”
“That is not necessary. See to the car, Herbert.” Lucan ended the call and walked up to the curb. Along the way he heard again the echo of the poetry fragment inside his head.
Darkness has no need.
What he needed, Lucan decided, was to find Samantha and reassure her, determine what had caused his memory lapse, and then hunt down the bastard responsible and personally thank him.
“Officer,” he said to the patrolman. “You will drive me to Fort Lauderdale.”
“Of course.” The cop opened the passenger door of his squad car for him.
Lucan climbed in on legs that began to shake. “And please, do use your emergency lights.”
Chapter 10
Jamys took the keys to the Mercedes from Chris’s purse as they walked Samantha to her car and watched her drive off. So absorbed by her thoughts was Chris that she didn’t notice he’d put her in the car and was himself driving until he stopped at a red light.
“Hey.” She sat up and stared at him. “I thought you didn’t know how to operate a motor vehicle.”
He shrugged. “When last I came here, I did not.”
“You just forgot to mention that since then you learned.” She looked out through the windshield. “You’re not driving to the airport, either.”
“I am not leaving.”
“Right.” Chris rubbed her eyes. “You did hear my crazy boss when he described the send-you-to-your-Dad-in-a-basket scenario.”
“I can stay without trespassing on Lucan’s territory.” He turned down a side street that led to the Intracoastal, and parked outside one of the many marinas that lined the waterway.
She dropped her hand. “You’re going to steal a boat. This is so much better.”
“Borrow a boat.” He scanned the slips and noted the vessels with lighted cabins before he climbed out of the car.
“I’ll assume you know how to sail,” she said as she followed him down the ramp to the slip dock. “But where are you going to park?”
“In Miami, near the museum.” He stopped by a beautiful wooden-hulled sailboat and nodded at the man sitting in a deck chair and coiling rope. “I will call you soon.”
“Take me with you. You need me,” she insisted as he looked doubtful. “You’ll need a mortal to do stuff during daylight hours, and I promised Lucan I’d look after you. That was before he went psycho, so it still counts.”
He wanted to take her with him. What he feared was that if he did, he would not bring her back.
“Christian.” He touched her cheek. “You are not my tresora.”
Her hand covered his. “I could be.”
Lucan’s sneering threat echoed in his memory: I will deal with you later. While Jamys did not doubt that Samantha would do all that she could to protect Chris and the mortals who served the jardin—she had appeared fully prepared to shoot Lucan with copper tonight—the suzerain had been a master assassin. He had spent centuries developing his skills and cunning, which were now likely as powerful as his ability to kill with a touch. Jamys also felt sure that Samantha’s love for Lucan as well as the bond she shared with him might render her incapable of ending his life. In his current condition, Lucan would not share such compassion.
“I watched my mother go crazy,” Christian said, startling him. “Every day for two years.” Her hand shook as she pressed it against her shirt, where the cross she wore concealed there hung. “I know Lucan and Sam aren’t my parents, and I’m just supposed to be the hired help, but I can’t go through that again.” Her eyes, now shimmering with tears, lifted to his. “Please don’t leave me here.”
Jamys pulled her close, and held her until her trembling quieted. Her scent became sharp with fear but not deception; she was genuinely frightened of what was happening to Lucan. As he rested his cheek against the top of her head, he thought of Angelica, and the madness that had twisted and consumed her. Discovering his mother’s insanity had made him feel the exact same helpless terror. “We must go now. Do you know how to sail?”
The lightning of her smile flashed, dazzling him. “You forget, I grew up on the beach. Not only can I swim, surf, water-ski and sail—with enough time and materials I could probably build you a boat.”