He'd screwed things up so badly, he didn't think there would be any reasoning with Gabrielle tonight. Maybe not ever.
From the opposite curb, he watched her taking long strides down the other side of the street, heading God knew where. She looked ashen and stunned, like she'd just taken a sucker punch to the chest.
Which she had, he admitted darkly.
Maybe it was for the best that he let her run off thinking he was a liar and a dangerous lunatic. The assumption was not all that far from fact, after all. But her opinion of him wasn't key here, anyway. Getting a Breedmate to safety was.
He could let her go home, give her a few days to cool off, take some time to come to terms with his deception. Then he could send Gideon to smooth things over and bring her calmly under Breed protection where she belonged. Gabrielle could choose a new life in any one of the Darkhavens secreted around the world. She could be happy, secure, and find a mate who would be a true partner for her.
She wouldn't even have to see him again.
Yeah, he thought, that was the best course of action at this point.
But regardless, he found himself stepping off the curb and into the street after her, unable to just walk away from Gabrielle now, even if that's what she needed most.
As he crossed the lanes of light evening traffic, his attention was wrenched to the squeal of car tires up ahead of him. A late model American rust bucket tore out of a side alley near the police station and careened into the middle of the street. The accelerator roared, laying rubber as the driver stomped on the gas and aimed the nose of the rumbling beast toward his target up the road.
Gabrielle.
Son of a bitch.
Lucan vaulted into a dead run. His boots chewed up the pavement, moving with all the speed he could summon.
The car launched up onto the curb a few feet in front of Gabrielle, blocking her path. She jolted to a stop. A low command came at her from the open window of the car. She shook her head violently, then screamed, her face going stark with recognition as the vehicle door opened and a human male jumped out.
"Jesus Christ. Gabrielle!" Lucan shouted, his mind grasping for a hold on her assailant and getting nothing but disconnect, unreachable, dead air.
Minion, he realized with contempt. Only the Rogue Master who owned this human could command his thoughts. And the mental effort Lucan had spent attempting to do so had slowed him physically. A few seconds lost, but too damned many.
Gabrielle made a fast break to her left, racing into a small playground with her pursuer right on her heels.
Lucan heard her cry out, saw the human that was chasing her suddenly throw out his hand and grab a fistful of the ponytail swinging behind her.
The bastard dragged her down to the ground. Fumbled a pistol out from the back waistband of his khakis.
Thrust the barrel of the weapon into Gabrielle's face.
"No!" Lucan roared, coming right up on them and kicking the human off of her with one fierce blow of his booted foot.
The weapon went off as the guy rolled, a wild shot firing up into the trees. But Lucan smelled blood. The metallic odor of it clung to both Gabrielle and her attacker. Not hers, he determined quickly, and with relief, as he noted the absence of Gabrielle's unique jasmine scent.
The spilled blood was fresh on the front of the Minion's shirt, and hunger flared in that deadly part of Lucan that was still starving and trying to heal. His mouth throbbed in response to the feeding impulse, but rage burned hotter at the idea of Gabrielle being harmed by this scum. His stare locked in deadly heat on the Minion, Lucan offered Gabrielle his hand to help her up from the ground.
"Did he hurt you?"
She shook her head no, but a small sound caught in her throat, half sob, half hysterical moan. "He's the one, Lucan - the one I saw watching me in the park the other day!"
"He's a Minion," Lucan said, growling the word through gritted teeth. He didn't care who the human was. In a few minutes it would be history, anyway.
"Gabrielle, you need to get out of here, sweetheart."
"W-what? You mean leave you with him? Lucan, he has a gun."
"Go now, baby. Just run back out the way you came and get yourself home. I'll make sure you're safe there."
The Minion was doubled over on the ground, still clutching the handgun, coughing in an effort to catch the breath Lucan had kicked out of him. He spat a mouthful of blood, and Lucan's stare tightened on the crimson spray soaking into the dirt. His gums ached with the stretching of his fangs.
"Lucan - "