Caleb

by McCarty, Sarah

  Vincent cast her an enigmatic glance before walking over to the table. He slid between her and Caleb and opened a drawer. Inside were an assortment of tools. They all looked like instruments of torture to her. Vincent grabbed up a syringe loaded with a greenish mixture.

  “What’s that?”

  “What you wanted.”

  He pressed the plunger, ejecting a bit of the suspicious-looking stuff.

  “Step aside.”

  She stayed put. “What’s in it?”

  In answer, he shoved her back and plunged the needle down into Caleb’s biceps. His thrill of excitement at the vicious act reached out to her. The hardest thing she’d ever done was to keep her voice calm and steady in the wake of the violence.

  “How long before it takes effect?”

  “Not long.”

  She wanted Caleb now. She reached for him with her mind.

  “I’m not going to allow you to talk to him mentally.”

  She shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

  And worth the tiny bit of feedback on the trail she was building into the back door to his brain.

  “As much as I appreciate the power you’re going to bring me”—he put the syringe back in the drawer—“I never really appreciated how much enjoyment you’re also going to provide.”

  The path to his mind snapped shut with the same quiet efficiency as the drawer.

  A chill that had nothing to do with her hunger shot down her spine. She closed her mind, counted to five, and elbowed him out of her way. “There’s a proverb about not counting your chickens until they’re hatched.”

  She took her place at Caleb’s side, breathing as if she’d just run five miles rather than merely moved two feet.

  Vincent’s stare was as heavy as a touch, loaded with nuances she didn’t comprehend. “All my chickens are present and accounted for.”

  The color was returning to Caleb’s face. Normal tension began to return to his muscles. “Then, I guess that makes today your day.”

  Caleb’s fingers twitched and his eyes flicked behind his lids. “Caleb? Can you hear me?”

  “He can hear you.”

  She wanted to scream at Vincent, tell him to shut up. She wanted to simply lose it. She wasn’t hero material. She wasn’t cut out for this. Touching Caleb’s cheek with shaking fingers, she breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive and he was coming back to her. That’s all she needed.

  Caleb’s eyes opened.

  “See how easy things can go when you cooperate?” Vincent asked.

  “Yes.”

  Her hand on Caleb’s shoulder served as a warning. She slipped her other hand down to the manacle on his wrist. Nothing was more welcome than the touch of his gaze to hers.

  “Are you okay?” His drawl was hoarse, slower than normal.

  “I’m fine.”

  His green eyes dropped to her mouth where she knew the cut on her lip was evident. His eyes narrowed. The swirls flared to brilliant light. Every muscle in his body snapped rigid. The table vibrated with the tension. “I’ll kill the son of a bitch.”

  “I kind of get the feeling there’s a whole long line of people ahead of you wanting to do that very thing.”

  And her name topped the list.

  Caleb didn’t look at her, just at Vincent. “The others will have to wait their turn.”

  Allie slid her hand down his wrist until she could tuck it against his palm. His fingers immediately curled around hers. His gaze slid from her lip down her body and then over to Vincent.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “He didn’t rape me if that’s what you’re asking.” She cut a glare at Vincent who had the gall to be amused by the private moment he was witnessing. “He doesn’t have the stomach for it.”

  Caleb looked pointedly at the bruises on her neck and the cut on her lip. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Well, it might be more correct to say that I didn’t have the stomach for it. I puked on him when he tried.”

  He smiled. “You are full of surprises.”

  She leaned her weight on her elbow, her ability to fake strength rapidly failing. “Some of them are even pleasant.”

  His gaze narrowed then cut to Vincent. “She’s weak.”

  “She refused my hospitality multiple times.”

  Another wrenching pain doubled her over. Her elbow collided with Caleb’s stomach, knocking the wind from him. Her fingers slid off his shoulder. The metal table screamed a protest as her talons scratched over it. Her nose smashed into Caleb’s shoulder as the scream built in her throat and reality faded.

  Beneath her, Caleb shifted, straining against his bonds. “You need to feed, Allie.”

  “Yes she does.”

  “I can’t.”

  “It’s the only choice you have.”

  “No it’s not.” She held Caleb’s gaze, reaching for him so he’d understand, but hitting that mental barrier instead.

  “I could always just choose to die.”

  She was close as it was, and part of her was ready. A minuscule part generated by lack of sleep and escalating pain, but there. Enough to fake intent.

  Caleb narrowed his gaze. Though she couldn’t feel it, she knew he was reaching for her, too. Not to persuade her, but to command her. The muscle in his jaw jumped. His hand gripped hers hard enough that bone grated against bone. “No way in hell, Allie.”

  “You’re hurting me.” His grip lessened slightly.

  “I’ll do more than hurt you if you get stubborn about this.”

  “It would solve everything.”

  “If your death would solve anything, I’d probably just opt to let you die,” Vincent interjected.

  “You could.” Shaking her bangs out of her eyes, she glared at him. “But you won’t.”

  He nodded. “Not yet.”

  But he was running a tab, she knew. And when the bill came due, if she was still here, he’d make her pay. Just one more reason to make sure her plan worked. “Because we have a deal?”

  He inclined his head. “And I am a man of my word.”

  “Like hell.” Caleb jerked at the bonds, the scent of his blood reached her nostrils. Her stomach leapt and quivered. She raked the split in her lip with her fang. The spill of her own blood broke the spell.

  “Be quiet, Caleb.”

  “Yes, do be quiet, Caleb. If not for your value as a food source, you’d be dead.”

  The buzz in her head grew to pounding. Lights skittered away from the center of her gaze.

  “Vincent.” She waited until he took his attention off Caleb. “Shut up.”

  His hand was a blur, but she felt the yank on her hair as he dragged her up until her face was inches from his. “You, woman, forget your place.”

  Her eyes watered from the sting in her scalp. Her bruised throat muscles ached from the strain, and her mind reeled from the black violence of his.

  “We have a deal,” she croaked.

  “What deal?” Caleb asked.

  She ignored Caleb. It was Vincent she needed to manage right now. “You aren’t supposed to stick your nose in.”

  Caleb wasn’t willing to let it go. “Allie . . .”

  “We agreed that I get uninterrupted time with Caleb.”

  “I’m only going to give you so much rope, Allie,” Vincent warned.

  “That’s so kind of you.”

  “Allie girl, that’s enough.” That order came from Caleb.

  It probably was, but she had a hard time with limits. “He doesn’t want to kill me, Caleb, just rape me, impregnate me, and raise a whole brood of genetically superior baby vampires with me.”

  “Then let him.”

  Shock stole her breath. Nothing in Caleb’s face suggested he was kidding.

  “Whatever you need to do, you do it.”

  “See, even your lover wants you in my bed.” Vincent let her go with a push. She stumbled forward. The table edge caught under her ribs, giving her the split second she needed to catch her b
alance. She lay there panting for a brief moment doubting herself until Vincent extended his hand with one of those flourishes he was so fond of, and smiled smugly.

  Sheer determination got her back on her feet. “It doesn’t matter if the whole U.S. Senate shows up and votes on it.” She glared at him. “It’s not going to happen.”

  Fingers touched hers. She looked down, expecting to see anger, not understanding. “You do what you have to do.”

  He was giving her permission, alleviating her guilt. It was the most horrible, sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her. “That’s an amazingly enlightened view for an eighteen sixties sort of guy.”

  “How touching.”

  It was her time to grit her teeth. “Vincent, one more time and our deal’s off.”

  Caleb tapped her hand with his finger. “What was the deal?”

  She stroked her fingertips over his wrist, lingering over the restraints that bound him, feeling that shivery energy bleeding into her palm. It was more familiar now. Energy, she was discovering, was a funny thing. A person couldn’t give it without receiving it, but anyone could take it without leaving clues behind. Vincent had left her lots of clues.

  “My cooperation in persuading you to cooperate.”

  “If part of the deal was that I’d drink from that son of a bitch, it was a bad deal.”

  “You need blood. So do I.”

  Caleb jerked his chin at Vincent. “They’ll be putting me six feet under before I drink from him.”

  “You won’t drink from him, but I’m supposed to sleep with him?”

  “You’re supposed to survive.”

  “So are you.”

  “I don’t matter.”

  “Shut up.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “Would that be your way of declaring your intentions, Allie Sanders?”

  She gritted her teeth, regretting it immediately when her head pounded as if it was about to explode. “I repeat, shut up.”

  “I hate to intrude in a private moment, but what Allie isn’t telling you is that she has an aversion to you feeding from one of the female hopefuls.”

  “So bring on a male.”

  “You made quite an impression on them. None will volunteer.”

  The pounding in Allie’s head increased to a steady pressure. “Our deal is so off, Vincent,” she gasped.

  “That’s fine. I wasn’t going to honor it anyway.”

  Then why had he brought her here?

  “You still need to feed,” Caleb said, the frown on his face letting her know she wasn’t doing a good job disguising her distress. With a twist of his hand he pinched her thigh, the little pain an intimate connection summoning her attention.

  She shook her head.

  “Look at me, baby.” She did. There wasn’t an ounce of give in Caleb’s expression. Even bound and pinned he was still a formidable man. “Vincent might not be able to make you feed, but you can bet that pretty little ass I can.”

  He was putting her in an impossible situation. She couldn’t bear to watch him feed from another woman, and he refused to feed from Vincent. Vincent was her only out. “You can make the men let him feed from them.”

  “I could, but . . .” He shrugged. “There’s that matter of your continued disrespect.”

  Inside, her vampire snarled. She would love to lash out at him, but she couldn’t. Caleb still had her hand.

  She glared at Vincent while yanking her hand. The man didn’t flinch or apologize, just stood there in his white robes and asked, “What’s it going to be?”

  There was only one choice. Caleb would have to feed from one of the female hopefuls. She dug the talons of her free hand into her palm. “Bring on the bimbettes.”

  19

  THE door slid shut behind Vincent.

  “Interesting that he can’t just summon the women here,” Caleb murmured.

  “I thought so, too.”

  He stared at the door, a frown on his face, eyes glowing as he concentrated. “He’s using a combination of technology and psychic power to control this place.”

  She rubbed her arms. “Is he gone?”

  He turned back. “Yeah.” His gaze narrowed, and he frowned for a different reason. “How long did they have me out?”

  “Two days.”

  His curse was harsh and to the point. His power radiated over her, looking for a connection. Another curse when he couldn’t link with her. Caleb’s gaze returned to her face and lingered on the dark circles she knew were under her eyes. “And he let you suffer?”

  “I wasn’t exactly cooperative.”

  His fingertips rubbed her thigh through the robe. His lips set in a straight line. “I’m sorry for getting you into this.”

  “I think I was the one who started it.”

  “But I’m the one who knew better.”

  She didn’t want his guilt. “No one knew anything. That’s been the problem all along.”

  She leaned against his side, letting him take more of her weight, absorbing his heat, rubbing her hands over those strange bonds. Just taking her time, thinking about things more important than the sharing that was about to commence. Like how to decode the energy in the bonds. Like how to forget Caleb would soon be feeding from another woman.

  Caleb’s whisper reached out to her with the softness of his touch; even without the mind link, he knew her well enough to recognize that she was worrying. “It’s not the same, Allie. What’s between mates is different.”

  “She’ll be giving you something I can’t.”

  “She’s chow, nothing more personal than that. I can get what she gives me anywhere.”

  “You can get what you want from me anywhere, too.” She rested her cheek against his chest, listened to the steady beat of his heart, closed her eyes against the tightening in her stomach. Before the pain came again she wanted a moment of peace. Just one.

  “You know that’s not true. When we put this behind us, remind me to paddle your ass for that bit of doubt, too.”

  She smiled, wanting to shake her head while she was at it, but the moment was too fragile to risk the disturbance. And she was too tired to exert the effort. “The way you’re going, you’ll be paddling my ass into the next century.”

  “There’s a thought to keep a man hopeful.”

  She chuckled and rubbed her palm over the bond on his right wrist again, applying the subtlest of mental pressure. Was that a bit of give? A shot of agony broke her concentration. She bit down on her lip, trapping the cry in her throat as the hunger clawed for satisfaction.

  The subterfuge was pointless. Even without the mental connection, Caleb knew what was happening. The hard edge of his chin pressed against her temple as he tucked his face to hers. His whisper barely reached her ears. “You can’t keep this up, Allie.”

  There was a fluctuation in the buzz, a momentary increase in intensity. Vincent spying from afar? She mentally flipped him the bird. “The alternative isn’t an option.”

  “It is for me.”

  Allie made her whisper as soft as Caleb’s. “You’re not the one who would have to live with it.”

  Frustrated power writhed around her at her denial of his wish. The buzzing increased, and the band under her fingers flickered. Interesting what happened when men couldn’t have what they wanted. Caleb couldn’t force her to submit to Vincent to save her life. Vincent couldn’t force her to feed from him to control her life, and the bands couldn’t withstand the psychic confusion to contain Caleb’s life.

  “Anything that needs sorting out in the aftermath, we’ll sort.”

  “Then I guess we’re both just going to have to live, but know this, Caleb. If you die, all promises are off.”

  She could just see him sacrificing himself for her.

  “You have more than yourself to think about.”

  Damn him. “So do you.”

  She glanced over at the door. Vincent would be back soon. They didn’t have much time. “So, that’s our plan, we both live?”

&
nbsp; She still didn’t have the key to the bonds, and she couldn’t test them too hard without alerting Vincent. She needed more.

  The door hissed open. She didn’t look up to see what was coming in. Couldn’t.

  “Come the rest of the way up here, Allie girl,” Caleb murmured, his eyes on the being walking toward them.

  “Why?”

  “Because I told you to.”

  “You realize of course, it’s now imperative that I don’t?”

  Again that little pinch on her thigh that somehow translated into the most intimate of hugs. “Do it.”

  That pinch was her undoing. She climbed up beside him. As each inch of her body blended into the hollows of his, all the horrifying changes in her life flashed before her. As each fragmented image surged forward, layering one over the other in a ruthless collage in her mind, her grasp on her composure slipped.

  “Caleb?”

  “What?”

  “How much less will you think of me if I totally lose it?”

  “Right now?”

  She shook her head, burying her face in the hollow of his throat. “No. Not now.”

  The hunger roared with Caleb’s scent. Her own private dinner bell. The pain raged through the barriers she’d built, swelling with the beat of her heart, the pounding of memories of her life. Her family. Of what had happened to them all. Even if she and Caleb got out of this, it was never going to be the same. Allie blinked back tears. Her emotions didn’t care one bit that now was absolutely not the right time to crumble. Her control just methodically fell apart, one piece after another tumbling out of her reach into the black pit waiting below. “Maybe in about five seconds?”

  “Shit.”

  His big body tensed and heaved, the powerful muscles flexing beneath her as he fought the bonds. She stroked his chest, trying to quiet him, opening her palm over his heart when he finally lay still, taking the rhythm of the beat and the reality of what he was into her.

  Power and temptation. Promise and doom. Heaven and hell. He was all those things to her and more. And Vincent thought to use him, to hurt him, for a cause only he understood. Her tears dried. No way in hell was she allowing that. She looked up to find Caleb staring back at her, a frown on his face and worry in his eyes.