Bound by Legend: A Bound Novel (26 page)

Morgan nodded, a little impatient. She already knew how dark angels came into the world and how they were raised. “So what was so special about this Jax guy?”

“Is that what he calls himself now?” Lucian shook his head and went on, “He was to be born of a union between a dark angel and his soulmate. Imbued with the powers of a dark angel and given the gift of his channel mother. He would be able to banish more demons than a normal dark angel and he would be able to dreamwalk like his mother.”

“So what went wrong?”

“Jaxciel should have been born a hundred and fifty years ago. His birth was eagerly awaited by all of us. His mother was in her second life as a channel, his father was young in lives. Jaxciel was a new beginning, a new weapon in our fight against the Underworld.

“It didn’t happen.” Lucian’s expression turned angry and sorrowful at the same time, as if he wasn’t sure exactly how to feel even after all this time. “Jaxciel’s father was killed a couple of months before he was due to be born. His mother, Mercy, couldn’t handle the loss. She railed against the Higher Powers for letting it happen. She…cursed them. Repeatedly. And when an upper-level demon offered her a way out of her pain, she took it.”

“What do you mean she took it?” Revulsion and horror seeped through Morgan, bringing an icy chill to her heart.

“Freewill. It applies to channels as much as any other human. The Higher Powers would never dream of forcing a channel to walk a path she didn’t wish to. When the demon came to Mercy, she followed it into the Underworld. She drank the blood of a demon.” Sadness was now the dominant emotion on Lucian’s face.

Morgan didn’t feel the same way. Her stomach lurched at the very thought of drinking demon blood.

After a stretch of silence, Lucian continued, “She became half-channel, half-demon. Most hybrids are half human, half demon. Jaxciel, too, became part demon. An unnatural mix of dark angel, channel, and demon.”

“Wait.” Morgan pushed herself into a sitting position. “How is Mercy still half-channel? And how the hell is Jax still part dark angel and channel? I thought those powers were given by the Higher Powers?”

“The powers are given while the baby is still in womb, at the same time the soul is given. For good or evil, they are permanent.”

“What about when Jax dies? Can’t they just deal with him then? Why keep sending him back to be reborn?”

Lucian sat up and sighed. “Jaxciel has never died. He’s part demon. He won’t die unless he is killed or chooses to embrace his dark angel side, at which point he will begin to age beyond the point of maturity and will eventually pass into waiting where he will be judged for his actions.”

“And then the Higher Powers can toss him into permanent death.” Morgan said.

“Not necessarily,” Lucian said with a shake of his head as he took her in his arms and held her close in a comfortable embrace. “The will of the Higher Powers is not for any of us to understand. It’s possible, if he ever embraces his dark angel heritage and one day stands before them, they will see something different than we do. They may send him to permanent death, they may condemn him to eternity in a pit of the Underworld, or they may send him back to earth for reason’s unknown to us.”

Morgan tried to think of a good enough reason to send a part-demon back to Earth and finally realized that Lucian was right. The Higher Powers were beyond her understanding. Though revolted by Mercy’s choice, Morgan looked back at her own pain and the offers made by the demons to make it so she never had to feel it again and, for a brief moment, she could understand why Mercy had given in. Pain, whether emotional or physical, that went on long enough could drive people to do all kinds of things they thought they would never do.

Morgan was sure she would never take such a path. However, without having walked in Mercy’s skin, without understanding the depth of her pain, the depth of her desperation to end it, it wasn’t her place to judge Mercy.

Jax was another story. He chose to remain an agent of the Underworld when he clearly had more than one path open to him. Even so, she shouldn’t judge him either. To hell with that. The way he’d choked her and threatened Jake, she hoped a hell hound bit him on the ass and the bite festered with infection. Not a proper channel attitude, but since when had she cared about that?

They lapsed into silence for a long while, each lost in their own thoughts.

Morgan’s mind turned away from the story of Jax and focused on her own problems. Lucian being the biggest. Eventually, the silence would have to end, and if he was going to truly understand her, she would have to open up. Her pulse picked up at the thought and she fought down sudden panic.

“Morgan? Are you all right?”

She moved his arm and looked around for her clothes. Her pants and bra lay in a corner; she scooped them up. Her shirt was nowhere to be seen. “I’m fine. I just need a shower and food.”

“You and me both.” He flashed her a wicked grin. “You want some help?”

“No.” Morgan held out a hand as if to ward him off and said with a laugh, “You may have more stamina because of what you are, but I don’t. If you ‘help’ me, I may well die.”

His masculine chuckle filled the room as she stood and padded toward the bathroom off the hallway. A dark lump of fabric on the floor near the top of the stairs caught her attention. So that’s where her shirt went. It could be picked up after her shower. And after she’d brushed her teeth. A mixture of morning breath and old whiskey wasn’t exactly a pleasant smell she was sure.

After a nice hot shower and a thorough brushing of her mouth, Morgan wrapped herself in a thick towel and opened the bathroom door. Lucian leaned against the wall across the hall, his arms crossed over his bare chest, damp golden hair hanging loose around his face.

“You look good in a towel, and even better without it.” His voice was full humor and innuendo as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Heat flushed her face as she skirted around him. “You just behave.”

His chuckle followed her as she dashed into her bedroom and shut the door. Flustered, she yanked open her drawers in search of clothes. They were empty. Crap. She’d forgotten they were all downstairs packed into a suitcase. How could she forget that? Her heart was so full of warmth her mind just wanted to bask in it.

What was wrong with her? Her heart whispered it was love. Her practical side muttered about losing her head because Lucian returned her feelings and thought she was beautiful on top of it. Maybe it was a silly thing to get all warm and fuzzy over, but Morgan had rarely ever considered how she looked. There had always been far more pressing matters to worry about like finding something to eat, shelter from the cold, trying to find the necessary monthly needs of a young woman, and the dangers of the street. Who had time to worry about hair, nails, and complexions when faced with all of that? Not that she thought herself unattractive.

Now, in the safety of Lucian’s presence and with his gaze filled with emotion and lust, Morgan was glad he was pleased with what he saw. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to want a hair and nails kind of girl, because she definitely wasn’t one and likely never would be. She had been shaped differently by life.

She stared at the open and empty drawers. Yeah, she had been shaped so different she was broken. Did Lucian really understand that she was pieces glued back together? It was hard to imagine someone accepting her so fully. Instinctively, she tried to raise a wall around her heart. It was too good to be true and she knew all too well how that went.

Lucian went back to his room and pulled a shirt on, then walked back down the hall. He waited outside her door for a couple of minutes. Had she seen the suitcase he’d placed on the bed while she was in the shower? “Morgan?”

He opened the door enough to poke his head around it. She stood looking at the empty dresser with a forlorn expression on her face. Lucian stepped into the room. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t look at him. “I forgot all of my clothes were downstairs.”

Why was she pulling away from him? He could sense the emotional distance she was trying to put between them. It was in her expression, her stance, in the very air about her. “Your suitcase is on the bed.”

Morgan turned, a look of surprise flashed across her face. “Oh. I didn’t even see it there.”

“I’m not sure how you missed it.” He crossed the room until he was in front of her. “Is there something else bothering you?”

She sighed and looked at him for the first time since he opened the door, her hands clutching the towel like it was a shield. “You.”

“I’m bothering you?” He was completely at a loss as to how to interpret her statement.

“Yes.” Morgan brushed past him to where the suitcase sat at the edge of the bed and began trying to unzip it with one hand while still clinging to the towel with the other.

Frowning, Lucian watched her for a minute before stepping forward to help. What was wrong with her? Or better yet, what had he done to make her act like this and why had the Higher Powers given him a soulmate that was so damn confusing?

After the suitcase was unzipped and laying open, he folded his arms. “Care to elaborate on that?”

“No. Yes.” She snatched some articles of clothing and faced him again. “You aren’t real. And that’s a problem because I already feel too much for you and when reality comes back, it’s going to hurt enough without adding to it.”

“I’m not real?” Lucian studied her as a smile tugged at the side of his mouth. “Well, you could have fooled me. Here I’ve been running around fighting demons for too many lives to count and now I find out it was all a dream or something.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, actually, I don’t.”

“Lucian,” she said with a sigh. “Guys like you don’t exist.
People
like you don’t exist.”

“I’m not the only dark angel you’ve met, why is it suddenly so hard to believe we exist?” Truly confused now, he waited for her answer.

“I’m not talking about that, I’m talking about you. Nobody has ever accepted me for who I am flaws and all. Not like you have. Not even Arabrim fully accepted me—”

“He should have.”

She continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “—and to top it off, you’ve never so much as raised your hand to me. People that accept you for who you are and never try to hurt you, whether intentional or not, just don’t exist. So that leaves this as some sort of elaborate dream my brain has concocted because I’ve become unhinged or something.”

“Morgan,” Lucian reached out and gently grasped her upper arms, looking her directly in the eye. “This is not a dream and I am real. You are who you are and I don’t expect you to be any different or act any different. No matter what happens or what you decide to do next, I will always be there, ensuring your safety. And your happiness, if you will let me. I will always protect you.”

He ran his hands up her arms then cupped her face. “And, I will never raise a hand against you for any reason or hurt you. Those are my promises to you. It’s up to you to see them for the reality they are.”

Leaning down, he brushed his lips against hers. “I’m going to get us something to eat.”

He left her to get dressed and to think over what his words. What had happened to make her so jaded at such a young age? How many people had hurt her? Anger coursed through his veins at the thought of anyone intentionally bringing her pain.

Morgan was a good person, why wasn’t she given a better life? Lucian pushed the last thought away. It wasn’t up to him to question the motives of the Higher Powers. Maybe she needed the strength she’d developed because of her life in order to face what was to come.

After filling Lucy’s dish with dog food and making sure she had fresh water, Lucian walked out the front door, his thoughts still on Morgan as he slid into his car.

Morgan slowly pulled her clothes on, careful to transfer the tiny Rainbow Dash, that had grown to mean more to her than Lucian could possibly imagine, into the pocket of her clean jeans then headed down the stairs. Opening the sliding glass door, she let Lucy out and followed her into the late afternoon sunshine. While the dog padded around the backyard, Morgan lit a cigarette and took a long pull on it.

Lucian’s words, his promises, chased each other around in her mind. Life had thrown so much at her; maybe Lucian was its way of making it up to her. It was still hard to believe even if his actions since she had met him backed up his words.

As she pulled in another drag, the day darkened. Lucy growled. Shadows slithered across the lawn. The air grew oppressive and thick with the smell of sulfur. Morgan stood, letting the cloud of smoke out of her lungs as the cigarette fell from her fingers.

Lucy crossed the yard to stand beside Morgan, hackles raised and snarls ripping from her throat. Morgan shoved the growling animal into the house, slamming the sliding glass door shut behind her.

The shadows in the backyard took on the shape of massive black dogs with a spiny ridge running along their bowed frames. Red eyes gleamed from their sunken faces. Their sparse, spiny hair didn’t hide ropy muscles and gaunt forms. As they drew closer to the door, heavy jaws opened revealing dagger-like teeth.

Lucy barked, the sound ferocious. Morgan stared at them unable to move. Her pulse pounded in her ears and her breath froze in her chest. Hellhounds were rarely unleashed into the physical world and when they were, their prey had little hope. Once they had the scent, they never quit following it. They could run indefinitely without tiring.