Slade

by Sarah McCarty

  He adjusted the wheel to the left, blinking rapidly as his vision cleared. The glasses were dark, the rays of the sun still weak. As a temporary fix, it worked. He could see.

  “Thank you.”

  The backpack rustled as Jane rummaged through it again. There was the sound of plastic being rotated on plastic, then the squish of something being squeezed out of a tube. It was all very clear to his acute vampire senses. The scent of coconut filled the car. The distinct sound of a seat belt being unbuckled snapped into the silence.

  His “Put that back on” collided with the belt buckle hitting the side of the door.

  “In a minute.”

  The end of the field was coming up. Another ditch. Reaching over, Slade tried to push her back. Tucking herself beneath his arm, Jane avoided his attempt and slathered something cold and slimy on his face.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Just in case your windows aren’t as perfect as you implied, I thought a layer of sunblock might help.”

  “You carry sunblock in your laptop bag?”

  “I believe in being prepared.”

  Of course she did. He could feel her stare. Could see the ditch getting closer. Shit.

  “I’m assuming it’s the UVA rays that get to you?”

  “The UVB pack quite the punch, too.”

  The stuff was gross, damned near intolerable, but nowhere near as intolerable as the thought of what could happen to her body if the truck bounced out of control. She was human and, he glanced down at her arm as she brushed the cream over his forehead, not built sturdily, even for a human.

  “That’s enough. Now get back in that seat and put your seat belt on.”

  “In a minute.”

  More cream glopped into her palm. He could feel the stuff sticking to his hair.

  “Now, before you get hurt.”

  “At this speed, the statistics of me surviving a crash, seat belt or not, are between zilch and none.”

  That was not a fact he wanted to hear. For the first time in his vampire life, he hesitated, his foot hovering between the gas and the brakes.

  The glasses bounced on his nose as she worked the cream under the lenses. The next rut cost her her balance. Gasping, she clutched at his shoulder.

  Her nails cut into his skin through his shirt. Her scent wrapped around him, slipping beneath the stench of coconut—apples scented with spring and a hint of fear.

  “Get that damn seat belt on now.”

  “When I’m done.” She rubbed the cream down his neck and onto his chest, her fine-boned fingers skating over his skin with an efficiency that had nothing to do with passion, but caught his interest anyway. Another distraction. The next bump sent her fingers over his chin. The tips rested against his mouth for a heartbeat, and in that heartbeat, he nipped them, letting his reaction to her touch roll over her, smiling grimly when she sat back in her seat on a gasp and those big eyes watched him in shock.

  “That was uncalled for.”

  She really did have a bossy side.

  “Then do as you’re told.” The ditch was coming up fast. He switched his foot from the brake to the gas. “Put your seat belt on.”

  She grabbed the belt. “Why? Are we going to crash?”

  “Why don’t you work out the statistical probability of that in your head while I figure how to get us over that ditch.”

  She hauled the belt over her shoulder and fumbled with the snap. “You’re not very soothing to be around.”

  “Thank you.”

  “That wasn’t a compliment.”

  It was now or never. He punched the gas.

  She looked up. “Oh my God!”

  The last syllable ended on a high-pitched scream as Slade threw a wall of energy in front of the tires, creating an invisible ramp to catapult the SUV up to the necessary elevation to clear the ditch. His strength wavered. He gritted his teeth, reaching deep. He wouldn’t fail. Not her. Not in this.

  His strength snapped. The car landed hard, bottoming out. Metal ground against metal. The SUV swerved, rocked up on two wheels, teetering as it raced on.

  A hand squeezed his. Energy, soft and feminine, touched his. Blended. He grabbed it. And in the next second did what he thought he couldn’t. He levitated the huge vehicle into a straight line. The wheels gently reconnected with the road.

  When he looked over, Jane was staring at him, the shock and fear in her big green eyes mixing with fascination as he released his hold on her energy. She’d saved their lives. “Thank you.”

  She didn’t answer, just kept staring at him.

  Shit.

  There wasn’t anything he could do about it now. Between the agony of the sun, the demand of day sleep, and the drain of getting Jane out of that lab, he was about done in.

  It must have been damn obvious, too, because, with a shake of her head and absolute expectation of being obeyed, Jane snapped, “Pull over.”

  “Not yet.”

  He could hold on for a little longer. Long enough to get her to safety.

  “Prioritizing our risks right now, you passing out at the wheel tops the list. That being the case ...” Her hand closed over his on the wheel. “Pull over.”

  She was right. He pulled over. Slade unsnapped his seat belt and tilted up the wheel. Hooking an arm around her waist, he pulled her onto his lap as he slid over. The laptop caught on the wheel. She landed half on his lap, with her soft butt cradling his cock.

  “Wait a minute.”

  He did while she set down the laptop, letting her scent sink deep, letting that sense of recognition reverberate hard on that sense of right he’d felt from their first email exchange. Her energy had always been very pleasing, and it had only gotten better as time passed. She wiggled around. His cock hardened.

  “This would be a lot easier,” she grumbled, bending to put the laptop on the floor, “if you weren’t so big.”

  His cock surged hard and strong, uncaring that this wasn’t the time, just liking the way she felt, so different yet so familiar. This close, he could see the perspiration on her temple. Smell the acrid taint of fear under her bravado. She was terrified, but covering well. He pressed up.

  “But you like me big,” he said, just to get her mind off the fear consuming her.

  She stiffened but didn’t counter. Too bad. He could use some distraction, especially as she dragged that soft ass across his groin. Gritting his teeth, he flopped to the opposite side of the seat. She adjusted the steering wheel and the seat.

  He only had a few minutes before he blacked out, which made the perk in his cock pretty close to a miracle. A totally unappreciated one if Jane’s glare and “harrumph” was anything to go by.

  “Ignore him, he has no manners.”

  “So I noticed.”

  Go figure, she was a good sport on top of everything else. He reached for the seat belt. She shook her head. “You need to be in the back.”

  “No.”

  “From the look of you, you’re going to pass out any second, and the backseat offers the best protection from the sun.”

  “I can’t protect you back there.”

  This time she didn’t bother to hide the roll of her eyes. “Not to upset the day with logic again, but I think the number-one priority is for you to get in the back and stay out of the sun so you can live to fight another day or whatever it is you men say during a testosterone high.”

  It galled the hell out of him that she was right.

  He squeezed over the seat, landing on his ass with one booted foot stuck on the back of the seat. “You, woman, are bossy.”

  “So are you. I’m just holding my own.”

  The darkness was coming fast. He had only moments. “Do you really think you’re equipped to handle this?”

  She put the car in gear. “I have no idea, but I think we’re both about to find out.”

  Shit.

  4

  SHE had so not signed on for this, Jane thought as she drove the SUV down the road. Sh
e was a researcher. She worked from the safety of her lab on theories that grew from solid fact. She’d never had any desire to be a hero, so what in hell was she doing driving at dawn in some sort of souped-up magic tank that was masquerading as an SUV? She was not adventurous and certainly not GI Jane against the world.

  The morning broke with a peaceful beauty—pale pinks blending with the gray. Pretty. And deceptive, because she could feel the danger still lurking in the prickle of hairs along her forearms and the churning in her gut. Behind her, she could hear Slade breathing. Even that wasn’t right. His breathing was too shallow, the rhythm of it too uneven. Instinct demanded she pull the car over and check on him, but that feeling of danger said “Put the pedal to the metal and drive like a maniac despite common sense,” though common sense told her to keep the speed to sensible. She swore. She hated conflict. Order was more her style.

  Taking a deep breath, she focused on the here and now. She didn’t know these roads. She was in the back of beyond, but if she remembered correctly from the maps she’d checked when moving to the area four years ago, this road had a lot of sudden turns. Which meant she’d better slow down. The last thing either of them needed was for her to crash the car. Whatever magic Slade had that enabled him to clear three tons of metal over a ditch in a single bound wasn’t in her repertoire.

  Slade made a strange noise. Risking a quick glance over her shoulder, she asked, “You okay back there?”

  The sound that came back to her could have been a grunt or a snore. More light flooded the horizon. Normally, she would have greeted it with a smile and a big virtual hug—she loved mornings—but if she was gonna buy into all this vampire crap, and she really didn’t see how she couldn’t, the sun was her enemy. It had the power to do the one thing the fang-bearing Sanctuary monsters couldn’t. It could kill the man who was her protector. Not a good thing.

  Not that maybe she couldn’t find somebody else to help her, but it had always been her philosophy that a bird in hand beat the heck out of two in the bush. And Slade was one heck of a bird.

  The comparison immediately struck her as wrong. Birds were lively, gentle, fragile creatures. Slade was passionate intensity simmering between layers of fake calm and poised anger. Pure sexy bad boy, and in any other environment she might just have succumbed to the temptation he posed. The last time she’d had a red-hot affair with a man like Slade, had been, well, never. She sighed. Might as well face it: men like Slade didn’t come along too often, and when they did, they were usually candidates for scumbag of the year, not the heroes of fairy tales.

  She glanced toward the backseat again. But Slade had hero written all over him. He’d risked his life for her. Bled because of her. As recommendations for trustworthiness went, that was the best she’d had so far. He might even make relationship material. Not that she’d had too many of those, either. As always, when she got to the end of a research project the thrill of an approaching solution consumed her mind and left little time for dating. Heck, half the time, she forgot to eat. Men weren’t even on the agenda. Now, before she could even turn the hormones back on, here was Slade. She’d been interested in him when he’d been a blip on her computer screen, a rare enough occurrence in itself. Any red-blooded woman would be interested in him after meeting him in person, but what unsettled her was the feeling that there was more than hormones at work here. Why or what, she didn’t know, but there was chemistry between them. Even, maybe a ... connection. Good God, she was running for her life in a race against time to protect research she never should have pursued. She didn’t have time for a connection!

  The pavement came to an abrupt end. She hit the brakes as the car bumped down off the pavement into a series of ruts that threatened to vibrate the powerful vehicle right off the side of the road.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Sure, now he woke up. “Tell me, if the sun touches you what does it do?”

  “Beyond hurting like hell?” His voice had a shadow of its normal timbre.

  “Yeah. Beyond that.”

  “It’s probably the equivalent of pouring a bucket of acid on human skin.”

  Acid burned through tissue in seconds. “Do you keep a blanket in here?”

  “No.”

  “What about that energy blanket thing? If you get that over you, will it block the sun?”

  A pause. “Probably.”

  “Then put it on.”

  There was a rustle of leather and material. “You like to give orders, don’t you?”

  “I find it’s easier than arguing.”

  “That really works for you?”

  Up to the left was a clearing. A house sat back from the road, listing to one side, so she assumed it was abandoned and might just do as a place to get Slade out of the sun. “With sensible people, yes.”

  “Are you implying I’m not sensible?”

  “Maybe just a little. Remember, I saw you throw yourself in front of Fang and company.”

  “That, sweetness, was the smartest thing I ever did.”

  She turned into the drive of the deserted house. “Then I guess that makes you either stupid or a genius.”

  “Genius.” The word reverberated strangely, sounding louder in her head than to her ear.

  “You just go right ahead and keep believing that.” There was an even more dilapidated barn to the right of the house. She pulled up in front of the double doors. “I think we can hide you here.”

  “Hide?”

  “That tightness in your voice tells me you’re in pain. You need medical help.”

  “Nothing I can’t bear. It’s certainly not enough to send me running with my tail tucked between my legs.”

  No one would feel compelled to obey that rasp of sound. But she did. On a level she couldn’t explain. Pushing the urge aside, Jane put the car in park. “I’m calling the shots right now.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says me.”

  “What gives you the authority to be barking orders?”

  She looked around, seeing nothing but weeds, trash, and woods. “The fact that I can walk in the sun.”

  The next grunt was weaker. Jane looked over her shoulder. Slade was lying on his back on the seat, hands over his face. Blisters populated the red, angry flesh of his skin. All that from the few weak rays of the sun that permeated the tinted interior? Damn!

  He slid his hands away from his face. “Caleb is going love you.”

  “Who is Caleb?”

  “My brother.” His voice was barely audible.

  Opening the glove compartment, she saw a flashlight, but no gun. She really would have preferred the gun. Unfortunately, her survival instincts weren’t what they should be. She’d left it at the lab when Slade had grabbed her. Damn it. She snatched up the flashlight and eased the front door open, using her body to block the light, doing her best to shield him from the insidious rays of the sun. It spilled around her as if she were no barrier to anything at all. Damn, she hated feeling helpless.

  “Good to know, in the unlikely event we ever meet.”

  “You’ll meet. I’m insisting on it.”

  “Is he also a vampire?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then don’t count on it.”

  She closed the front door. He said something she couldn’t make out. She stopped, just in time, from opening the back door and asking, “What?” Placing her hand against the window, wishing she could see through the dark glass, she asked, “Just how hurt are you?”

  “I’ll be fine if I get some rest.”

  He needed rest. Protection from the sun. Jane couldn’t take her hand from the window. Couldn’t break the fragile connection. Another bit of vampire lore that had an anchor in reality. That no woman could resist them. “Playing the hero takes a lot out of you, huh?”

  “It can be hard work.”

  She bet. “Do you do it often?”

  No response.

  “Slade?”

  Damn. Had he passed out? Another glance around showe
d no sign of movement in the early morning light. Hopefully, it would take forever for the werewolves to find them, and hopefully, she’d be long dead from old age by the time that particular bit of folklore became part of her reality.

  She headed for the barn doors. The chain was not a good sign. Though heavily rusted, it still looked strong enough to fend off her efforts. Her only hope was that the lock wasn’t very strong. A tug proved it was stronger than the muscles in her hands and arms. Which was not saying much. When she went to the gym, she pretty much did the treadmill and ignored everything else. She yanked the lock again. Maybe she should have worked more with the weight machines. Then again, muscle wasn’t everything. She grabbed a piece of metal pipe from the pile of brush and trash at the side of the building. Innovation could often make up the difference.

  Swinging the pipe, she banged on the lock. Once. Twice. The force resonated around her. So loud. She looked down the road. There were no other houses in sight, but who knew what was beyond the trees. Or for that matter, in the trees. This was not a situation to give a body a warm fuzzy. She needed to get them hidden, and fast. Taking a firmer grip on the pipe, she stabbed downward. Metal clanked. And there might have been just a bit of give in the mechanism. Give would be good about now. She’d had enough problems in the last few hours.

  Four more tries, each blow ringing like a warning shot through the early dawn, and the lock gave. Hallelujah! She dropped the pipe on the ground, grabbed the lock, and untangled it from the rusty chain, staining her hands and clothes orange. Great. She’d just bought this shirt.

  No matter how quietly she tried to slide the chain through the door handles, it made an ungodly racket. As it clanked its way to the ground, she bit her lip and froze. The hairs on her arms prickled. Her breath stilled. Who had heard the raucous sound? Seconds passed like hours as she waited for the attack. Her lungs ached for air and it still didn’t come. Maybe they’d truly escaped.

  There are werewolves, too . . .

  Releasing her breath, Jane reached for the handle. Her hands shook like leaves, making the simple move almost impossible. They weren’t safe. They had fricking werewolves to worry about. Of course, because everyone knew vampires weren’t enough.