Caleb

by McCarty, Sarah

  “I have got to learn to do that.”

  “What?”

  “That floaty thing.” The light turned on. Color assaulted her senses—the rich brown of the floors, the washed burgundy of the walls, the deep green of Caleb’s shirt, the deeper green of his eyes. She took a moment to absorb the familiarity. The utter normalcy of it. “Thank you.”

  In two gliding steps, he was back at her side. He adjusted the blankets over her shoulders, a smile ghosting his lips as his knuckles brushed her cheek. “You’re welcome.”

  “You look good.” And he did, despite the signs of fatigue, he looked very, very good. He always did, and just seeing him had a way of making things right in her world. His right eyebrow raised. It was such a blessedly familiar moment after the weirdness of before that she turned her head to kiss his forearm.

  “Jared just got done telling me I look like hell.”

  Beyond a break in his next breath, Caleb didn’t relax. That alone was enough to worry her. She puffed out a disgusted bit of air. “What does Jared know? If it isn’t dressed in black, he can’t relate.”

  “I’m glad to see you’ve got your sass back.”

  It was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “I lost it?”

  He sat on the side of the bed. Her body followed the dip of the mattress, rolling until she came up against his hip. His hand braced on the mattress behind her left shoulder. The shadow of his body cocooned her in intimate darkness. Her night vision kicked in. The black and white emphasized the harshness of his facial structure, highlighted the character so deeply embedded in the planes and hollows. She remembered the horrible presence, the way it’d taken over, but mostly she remembered the way Caleb had gone after it, blazing light and fury, fearless and determined, no hesitation. She’d needed him and he’d been there. They’d all been there.

  “You’ve been out for a day.”

  One whole day? “Good God!”

  Caleb’s mouth tightened to a thin line as he eased his hands under her shoulders. “God was nowhere near that mess.”

  “And just what exactly was that mess?”

  He lifted her. “Someone, we think vampire, came calling.”

  “The Sanctuary people?”

  The shake of his head was emphatic. “They’d be more likely to convert you than to attack you.”

  She felt as stiff and creaky as an old door as he slid behind her. Her joints protested the move, the bones grating with the effort. Her hand went to her stomach. “Our baby.”

  Caleb covered her hand with his as she eased back against him. “Everything’s the same as it was as far as we can tell.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Caleb sighed. Allie wanted to know for certain if she was pregnant, but he didn’t have an answer. It wasn’t like they could just stroll into town for a pregnancy test without raising eyebrows, and they certainly couldn’t send blood out to a lab.

  Beneath his hand, Allie’s stomach fluttered with the conflicting emotions ricocheting inside her. He wished he could tell her if she was pregnant or not, but he didn’t know. Son of a bitch, they didn’t know anything they needed to know when it came to her. “If you were carrying, you still are, and if you weren’t, you still aren’t.”

  Her palm came over his. Soft, warm, she pressed his hand to her. To the place where maybe his child rested. The miracle of that possibility just bowled him over. Caleb slowed his breathing, staring into the shadows, old dreams coming back. Dreams he’d built for his brothers as well. Dreams he’d put away as useless when they’d turned vampire. Dreams that involved family and kids and making a place for themselves that was better than what they’d lost. And now, after all these years, it was dangling just out of his reach.

  How the hell was a man supposed to adjust to that? How the hell was he supposed to deal with the morass of emotions that came with the resurrection? Rage at any that would threaten her. Joy at the gift she brought. Fear that she could be taken away. No way around it, Allie made him vulnerable, and that was going to take some getting used to.

  She shifted in his arms. Adjusting his grip to accommodate her new position, he looked down. Allie’s eyes were closed. “Tired?”

  She shook her head, the rosemary scent of the shampoo with which he’d washed her hair teasing his nostrils. “Just pretending it’s you and me here in the darkness. No bad guys, no freaky visiting entities, no uncertain future. Just you and me and possibility.”

  Caleb ran his index finger up the bridge of her nose, his own personal miracle, bracing his fingers against her forehead, easing her head against his shoulder. “I’d like that.”

  “Me, too.”

  There was a very un-Allie-like silence and then she took a breath. Caleb braced himself. She was going to tell him she wanted to leave. He’d always known she’d reach a point where things would become too overwhelming for her. Though he’d told himself he’d respect her decision if she asked to leave, he wasn’t sure he could let her go. Not now. He liked to think he could, but about ninety percent of that thinking was pure bluff.

  Eyes still closed, body relaxed against his, she exhaled. “I make a lot of jokes, you know.”

  “I know.” It was how she coped with life’s toll on her emotions and defended herself from the way the world sometimes beat up on that sensitive heart of hers.

  “But I can be serious.”

  The seam of her lashes shimmered with the surge of tears. She blinked once, twice. He tucked her closer, resting his chin on her hair. On the third blink, she swallowed hard and found her voice. “And I really want there to be a baby.”

  A tear spilled to her cheek, a silver beacon for his attention. He let the moisture spread across his lips, a salty bridge between sadness and hope. “Me, too.”

  She held herself so still, as if she was afraid to move because to do so would be to shatter the possibility she hoped for so desperately. “I’d like a little boy with your eyes.”

  “I’ve got my heart set on a little girl with your spirit and smile.”

  “We’re probably just kidding ourselves that vampires can get pregnant.”

  “Probably.”

  “What kind of parents would we be?”

  He pulled her higher against him, opening his hand and pressing down, wanting. “The best we learned how to be.”

  “I’d make mistakes.”

  “Then I’d help fix them.”

  “And when you screwed up?”

  His right eyebrow rose, and the easy smile he was getting reac quainted with since meeting her tugged at his mouth. “What makes you think I’d screw up?”

  Allie leaned back, letting him catch her weight as she slid far enough to the side to see his face. The trust implicit in the move touched him.

  “It’s a given, Johnson. With you as a father and me as a mother, she’s bound to have a wild side. Combine that with your penchant for wrapping the people around you in cotton wool, and there’s going to be some clashes.”

  “Damn straight she’d be protected. I’m not having any weres or vamps sniffing around my little girl.”

  She looked at him with those big blue eyes and a slightly mocking smile. “The way you sniffed around theirs?”

  Caleb shook his head and touched the corner of that smile. If their child was a girl, sure enough he was going to have his work cut out for him keeping the boys away. He ran his finger along her cheekbone. So much intrepid spirit contained within such a soft body. If her daughter had half her appeal he was going to need reinforcements. “Exactly.”

  “Which will just mean I’ll have to run defense around you so she gets to have a life.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Count on it. Girls are entitled to just as much freedom as boys.”

  “Little girls are vulnerable in ways boys aren’t.”

  “Then we’ll teach her karate.”

  “Karate won’t give her a man’s strength.”

  “I didn’t need karate to save you.”


  He nodded. “True enough. Teaching her to shoot is definitely a plan.”

  But he was still not letting her out without protection. Ever.

  Allie frowned up at him, her lips compressing. He might not have guarded that last thought as well as he’d thought.

  “We are in the twenty-first century.”

  She was always tossing that at him as if time changed the basic instincts of males and females. “I noticed.”

  She didn’t take her eyes off him, watching him like a hawk. “Before we have any children, you need to accept that.”

  “What makes you think I haven’t?”

  “Your archaic opinions on men and women.”

  “Time might change the way people talk to each other, but it doesn’t change the impulses under the skin.”

  Her lip slid between her teeth. There was a long pause in which he counted the pulse in her throat. When he got to twelve, she blew out a breath. “We’re so different”

  “Not where it counts.”

  “Where would that be?”

  “In what we value. Loyalty. Honesty. Courage.”

  She blinked. “We are alike there, aren’t we?”

  He brushed his lips across her brow, needing to connect. Although he held her in his arms, he had a feeling she was slipping away. “Like two peas in a pod.”

  Her teeth sank deeper into her lip. He could feel the resolution inside her strengthening in a steady push of energy against the intimacy he was building.

  “What is it?”

  Allie’s palm rubbed the back of his hand, the one sheltering the possibility of their child.

  “I just want you to know that if I’d had the opportunity to pick a father for my baby, it would have been someone like you.”

  Son of a bitch! She about cut his feet out from under him when she said things like that. He cupped her head, careful not to stress her muscles, tipped her chin up with his thumb. “You did pick me.”

  “Not completely.”

  “Completely.” Utterly, with an instinctive understanding she didn’t trust, but she’d chosen him. Caleb wouldn’t let her forget that. He brought his mouth to hers. Carefully, so very carefully, feeling her surprise in the breath that puffed over his lips, the whisper of his name . . . A tilt of his head and her mouth was under his, soft and feminine, as giving as her soul, letting him linger where he wanted, caress as he needed, encouraging him to find the words he couldn’t voice.

  “Allie girl . . .”

  Her hands came around his neck. “I know.”

  And even without touching minds, he knew she did. He didn’t want to break the moment, but there were things she had to know. For her protection and maybe their child’s, he had to warn her. He broke off the kiss, readying her for the seriousness of the conversation with a stroke of his thumb across her mouth.

  She sighed and kissed the pad. “You’re going to ruin the moment, aren’t you?”

  “Sorry.”

  Hitching herself higher she shook her head. “We are definitely going to have to work on your killjoy factor along with your chauvinistic tendencies.”

  “Uh-huh.” He didn’t let her leave his arms. The scare she’d given him was too recent for him to totally let her go.

  When she settled herself in a semi-upright position, she waved her hand. “Spill it if you must.”

  There was no other way to say it but to be blunt. “Whatever came here wants you.”

  She didn’t even blink, which told him she’d already figured that out. “For what?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “Are you sure it’s not the Sanctuary people?”

  “They’ve never shown the inclination or power before.” But that didn’t get them off the hook.

  She blew her bangs off her head. “Rats.”

  “Slade’s working on it. Derek and his pack, too.”

  “Really?”

  “This last little visit gave us all a kick-in-the-pants scare.”

  Allie just bet it had. The Circle J had been invaded, by a mental enemy, but an enemy all the same. That had to shake everyone up. For her part, she couldn’t remember anything beyond a slimy presence invading her soul, and she still shuddered. She’d had no illusion of safety or control whereas Caleb was on the opposite side of the spectrum, always assuming everything he saw was under his dominion.

  “I’m glad it’s all a blur for me.”

  The hand on her stomach contracted. “You don’t remember anything?”

  “Trust me, I’m doing my best to eradicate even the sensation of a memory.”

  Caleb turned her in his arms, draping her thighs across his, tilting her face up to his. Faint gold lights swirled behind his pupils as he said, “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

  Allie sighed. “I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

  “But I’m not going to ask you to remember right this minute.”

  “That is a relief.”

  Caleb touched the corner of her mouth. “You need to feed.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Slade thinks that letting the hunger get too bad weakens your mental shields and creates an opportunity for trespassers.”

  “How so?”

  “You’re an empath, Allie girl. That means unless you close it, there’s an open path from everyone around you to you.”

  She gripped her arms tighter, wishing she had the strength to lift her head. “You’re not making my day.”

  His lips ruffled her hair. “I’m not exactly dancing a jig.”

  “Any chance I can exchange this gift?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “First, you’re a vampire. Next, you’re a walking invitation to a freak-fest. I swear, Caleb, if you don’t start waking me with better news, I’m dumping your ass.”

  He opened his shirt and sliced his nail through his skin. Blood flowed, scenting the air, drawing their passion around them in a cocoon as soft as the understanding in his voice. “I’ll work on it.”

  APPARENTLY for Caleb, working on it meant keeping her blood intake high and her stimulation level low. Allie paced to the window, drew back the curtains, and stared into the moonlit yard. Men moved within the shadows, fading into one before moving on to the next. Powerful men. Weres called in to protect her. From something they didn’t recognize. Something they couldn’t see. Something that attacked mentally. Something that needed her. She wished she knew for what.

  No matter how hard Allie tried to remember that night, the details remained buried behind a haze she couldn’t penetrate. Lingering in her mind like a cancer, deadly and invisible, hiding the identity of the stalker who’d attacked her. But somewhere in the darkness beyond the window it lurked, getting stronger.

  She dropped the curtain back in exasperation. She might not know what that thing was, but she knew damn well that waiting was wrong. That thing, that threat, had the edge, and if they didn’t know what they needed soon, they were all dead. Convincing Caleb of that was the hard part. He didn’t have as much faith in her gut as she. Or it might be better to say he didn’t care if her gut was right or wrong. His first priority was her immediate safety, and that of their possible baby. Her priorities were a little more broadscale. She wanted a home to bring her baby to when it was born.

  While Caleb and everyone else felt she needed to stay here, that these walls somehow protected her, they were wrong. Way down deep in her gut, she knew they were wrong. That much knowledge had been gained from the visitor, which was an interesting twist on the transmitter/receiver aspect of her empathic abilities. Apparently, when anything scanned her, she was also able to scan it. Some ability seemed to be instinctive, but she’d discovered it definitely got better with the daily practice-makes-perfect drill sessions Jared and Caleb put her through.

  The harder part was not letting the scanner know that she was taking sneak peeks of her own. She wasn’t so good at that. Which was why she’d been so excited to see the invitation made out exclusiv
ely to her that had arrived from the Sanctuary two days ago. Talking with Sanctuary members might give her the vital information she needed to be able to protect herself.

  Caleb hadn’t shared her enthusiasm. Hypersensitive, on full alert since the psychotic attack, he had wanted to burn the invitation immediately. Jared had wanted to go in and wipe the place out for the insult. In his opinion, overlooking Caleb’s position as her mate was a killable offense. Slade had been more sane. He thought they should first analyze the invitation, find out how they’d known about Allie, and then wipe the Sanctuary out for what to him was the equivalent of propositioning his brother’s wife.

  Her logical suggestion of accepting the invitation and then having an equally logical discussion with people who had spent their lives learning all they could about what they’d discovered about vampirism hadn’t even been considered. She’d gone off in a huff, but something had made her take the invitation with her. And something kept making her come back to it over and over. Instinct said she needed to accept the invitation. Needed the missing piece of the puzzle that was locked in her mind. If there was a chance the members of the Sanctuary could provide her with the skills she needed to solve the puzzle, she needed to go.

  She peeked out the window again. To that end, tonight she was going to force a couple hands. She grabbed her pack off the bed and opened the window. Thanks to the greasing she’d given it earlier, it slid smoothly. Cool air rushed in. Along with it came a chill. She tugged her coat around her and funneled more energy into her mind shield as Caleb had taught her. She couldn’t afford to be detected. She placed her pack on the roof and slid her leg over the sill. Doing her best to be quiet, she stepped out onto the roof. Her foot didn’t slip and when she put her weight on it, didn’t go through the shingles. So far so good.

  She stood and stretched her spine, breathing deeply of the fresh air, the first she’d had in the last week. Since the last “visit” Caleb had assigned her a guard, and since he feared the accessibility of the outdoors, kept her inside.

  Creeping down the roof wasn’t as hard as she’d feared. Hopefully, evading the guards wouldn’t be either. She glanced at her watch. She figured she had two hours before Caleb returned. A woman could go a good distance in two hours. Enough distance so he wouldn’t be able to force her to go back before dawn for fear of her being caught in the sun. Enough distance that, hopefully, he’d be forced to cooperate.