Slade

by Sarah McCarty

  “I hate you,” she muttered in Slade’s direction. Kicking clods of dirt out of the way, she hauled the doors across the uneven ground. She hid behind the door for a second, just in case any four-legged inhabitants decided to take a shot at freedom. The one thing she didn’t need was to end up in the emergency room, getting rabies shots. She checked the top of the doorjamb. She also didn’t need a heart attack from a spider dropping on her head. The wisps of web floating about looked old and flimsy. No self-respecting spider would take up residence in them. She pulled open the second door without incident. Maybe her luck was turning.

  It was dark inside the structure. Dark enough to make her uneasy. Dark enough to make Slade happy. At least she hoped that was all it would take to make him happy. Grabbing the flashlight from her waistband, she shone it into the interior. It was a big hollow place made even bigger by the dark corners. Too dark corners. A flick of the flashlight revealed why. The two side windows were painted black. Probably to discourage burglars, but it suited her purposes.

  “Perfect.” The place was about perfect.

  Against the far back wall there were two stalls with a large, built-in metal and wooden box between them. The box could be her salvation. She hurried over, that sense of urgency still pushing at her. It didn’t look as big close up, but—she glanced back at the car—if Slade could tuck his knees to his chin, he might fit. A sunbeam slipped through the cracks of the old structure and tickled the corner of the box. As the sun rose, there would be more stray beams. That box would be Slade’s sanctuary. All she had to do was get him there.

  Hurrying back to the car, the sense of danger looming right along with her panic, Jane made her mental list. First and foremost she had to get Slade in the box. Then she had to hide the car. Lastly, she had to hide any sign they’d been there. No problem.

  Maybe not joining the Girl Scouts in her youth had been a mistake. Her outdoor skills were at an abysmal low. With another quick glance around—she was beginning to feel like the need was a tic—she eased open the driver door.

  “We’re in luck.”

  “That would be a nice change.”

  Yes it would. Sunbeams battled to invade the car. Jane imagined she could smell flesh burning. “Are you okay back there.”

  “Just toasty.”

  “Now is not the time for jokes.”

  “You tell me when there is a better one.”

  She shook her head and smiled despite herself. “After I get you in the box.”

  “A box?”

  She turned the key in the ignition. The engine purred to life. “Don’t sound so freaked. Don’t vampires sleep in coffins?”

  “Only in the movies.”

  The car eased forward. “So what do you sleep in?”

  There was a pause before he answered, and when he did, his voice rose and fell in an uneven cadence. “A nice big bed.”

  Jane inched the vehicle forward. It was going to be a tight fit through the doorway. “A vampire who loves his creature comforts, eh?”

  “Damn straight.”

  The right mirror caught on the jamb and snapped against the car frame as it was designed to do. She jumped anyway. “Well, since the sun isn’t having any trouble coming through the space between the wood, you need to be somewhere safer than this SUV”

  Material scraped against leather. Warm breath stroked her neck.

  “You’re not damaging my truck are you?”

  She gripped the steering wheel, irritation flashing through her at her reaction to that incidental caress. Being turned on in this situation would make her the cliché she simply refused to be—the sex-starved researcher.

  Air woofed past her ear in a grunt of pain, or a chuckle. Again, as with everything about this man, it was hard to tell. “The one thing I don’t need right now is a backseat driver.”

  “You’re doing fine.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, took in the impression of Slade’s profile, absorbed that ever so pleasing scent that surrounded him, and flexed her fingers. “If that’s the case, you should be more focused on your preference for comfort than on my driving.”

  Several small breaths puffed past her ear. Definitely a chuckle. Even under pain and pressure, the man could find humor. Was there anything about him that wasn’t pleasing? “Just how small is this box.”

  She pulled up as close as she could to the stall and to the right of the box before killing the lights. “Let’s just say that I hope you’re very limber.”

  He groaned.

  “I’m taking that as a yes.”

  “Take it as whatever you want.” Leather creaked as he sat back. She hopped out of the car. “It isn’t safe for you here.”

  She went around to the back door. “I’m getting the impression that it isn’t safe for me anywhere.”

  She opened the door. His hand caught hers, the hard calluses on the palm rough against her skin. A shiver went through her as his gaze met hers.

  “You need to get in that car and drive like hell out of here.”

  “Because the wolves are coming.”

  “Yes.”

  She stood back, giving him room to come out. “I don’t believe you.”

  “The hell you don’t.”

  She’d always been a lousy liar. “Do you realize that you swear a lot when you’re upset?”

  The only thing to come out of the back of the SUV was his growl. “Do you realize that you change the subject when you don’t like the way a conversation is going?”

  “Yes. It’s called ‘being tactful.’”

  “I’d call it ‘running away.’”

  He would. The man seemed to love conflict.

  “I beg to differ. May I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Do vampires feel pain?”

  “All vampire senses are heightened.”

  She glanced down at his fingers, which were wrapped around her wrist. The ravaged flesh split to the bone. “Then how come you’re not screaming?”

  “I’m trying to impress you.”

  As if any man oozing that much testosterone needed to worry about impressing a mousy little scientist with zero man-killer skills.

  Leaning forward, he cocked his brow and asked, “Is it working?”

  Rolling her eyes, she said, “Consider me impressed.”

  “Good.” He tugged her forward, into the darkness of the car interior. The hairs on the back of her neck rose in warning. She braced her feet.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I’ll wait out here.”

  “Afraid?”

  Even though she couldn’t see it, she bet the arch of his brow was higher. “Not at all. I’ve just got a weak stomach.”

  The length of the next pause made her feel guilty. She heard the pass of his hand over the scruff of his beard.

  “Guess I do look like something the cat dragged in.”

  “You look like you need to be in a hospital,” she countered.

  And that was her fault.

  “I’ll improve.”

  She glanced at the box again. A beam of sunlight from the open doors had reached it. “Wait here.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Amazing how much sarcasm could be put into two syllables. Mr. Slade, whoever he was, did not like taking orders, but that was just tough. Right now she was in charge, and while she didn’t know how long she could maintain that control, it was something she wasn’t giving up. Especially since she gave orders much better than she took them.

  Heading back outside, she grabbed the chain and lock from the ground and dragged them back into the barn. Next, she pulled the doors closed, yanking hard when the right one caught on a stone. That intruding beam of sunlight winked out, but others were springing up as the sun rose in the sky. She eyed the chain. It wasn’t much in the way of security, and certainly not against creatures that could catch an SUV traveling at full speed, but it couldn’t hurt to chain the door. The thick, heavy links kept kinking up as she thread
ed the chain through the handles, but at last she was done and slid the lock through several of the metal loops. Though it wouldn’t latch, the lock would help keep the chain in place. The right door handle sagged as she let the chain go. Hopefully it wouldn’t rip out under the weight. The chain that had looked so substantial before now appeared woefully inadequate as it dangled lopsidedly between the rusted handles. Wiping her hands down her jeans, she sighed. It was going to have to do. She headed for the box.

  Slade slung his long legs out of the car. “Hey.”

  Stepping over his scuffed boots, she avoided his hand and ordered, “Just stay there a minute.”

  Before she dragged him through the trail of sunbeams, she needed to check to see if he was going to fit. The metal lid of the box opened with a groan worthy of a horror movie. Perfect. Just perfect. Now she had ambiance to go with the terror wending through her bones.

  Inside there were a couple of dead spiders and a few leftover oats. And rust. All in all, if she was looking for a positive sign, this could be it. That was a plus. She’d been dreading a Willard moment, with rats pouring out as she opened the lid. Dead spiders she could handle. Rats, not so much. She left the lid open and went back to the car.

  Slade was waiting, but she didn’t flash the light on this face. She didn’t want to. One, she hadn’t been lying about the weak stomach, and two, the horror-movie analogy wouldn’t leave her brain. Slade hadn’t shown any blood-sucking tendencies, but if this were a horror movie, now would be the moment where it all went bad. He had her trust; she was trying to help him. In any decent horror movie, it was time for the kill shot.

  “C’mon.”

  There was a long pause, then the rustle of clothing against the seat back, and a groan. She slipped her shoulder under his arm.

  “News flash—now is the wrong time to faint.”

  “I never faint.”

  “Pardon me. Get weak at the knees.”

  “I don’t do that, either.”

  Lord, he was heavy. “What do you consider the proper terminology for a man about to pass out?”

  “Men don’t pass out.”

  “Then we’ll go with mine. Don’t pick now to faint. We need to get twenty feet, to the box, before you can pass out.” He grunted. “Can you make it?”

  He stood, swayed, his height taking him past her ability to support. “I’ll make it.”

  If sheer determination was a guarantee, she’d bet he would. Unfortunately, she had a bird’s-eye view of his face. Ghosts had more color.

  She took an involuntary step backward as he leaned forward. He placed his palm on the SUV “Don’t worry. I’m not lusting for your blood.”

  “I didn’t think you were.” The shiver that went down her spine made a liar out of her. She took another step backward.

  “Sure you were. That’s why you keep stepping away.”

  “Maybe I’m just afraid you’ll fall on top of me and squash me flat.”

  “I wouldn’t squish you, sweetness.”

  Sweetness. Why did he keep calling her that? She flashed the light in his face. His eyes burned back at her—an icy gray. Funny, she’d thought they were more green than gray before. Light played unmercifully across his horribly burned face. Her stomach turned. The left half was worse than the rest. His eyes closed as he took slow, even breaths. Oh God, he looked near death. “I can’t catch you if you faint.”

  “Already told you, men don’t faint.”

  “Good.” She flashed the light toward the box. “You need to get over there.”

  He straightened. “No problem.”

  Looking at how he weaved, she had her doubts. More beams propagated in the dark interior.

  He straightened and swayed. “I’ll be better by nightfall.”

  “You’re delusional.”

  “No, I regenerate.”

  She paused, excitement flaring. That was intriguing. “Really?”

  He cracked an eyelid. “I should have known that would get your blood pumping.”

  “It’s not—”

  “I can hear it, Jane.”

  How was she supposed to respond to that? “Sorry.”

  Tiny white lines fanned out from the edges of his lips. He took a step forward. “Don’t be sorry. I’m probably one of the few people able to understand your reaction.”

  Using the side of the SUV to steady himself, Slade took another step. Jane couldn’t stand it as he wavered. Whatever was wrong, he was definitely on his last legs. She wrapped her arm around his rock-hard waist.

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “If you knew me as well as you think you do, you’d get that it’s totally necessary.”

  His arm came down across her shoulders. A heavy, surprisingly comforting weight. “I guess you’re right.”

  Jane had been humored enough in her professional life to recognize when it was happening. Slade was definitely humoring her as he gave her just enough of his weight to make her feel useful, but not enough to strain her back. It was a surprisingly sweet thing to do. They reached the end of the hood. The last fifteen feet, they were going to have to do on their own. She bit her lip.

  “Slade?”

  His finger brushed her cheek, almost as if he knew her worry. “What?”

  “If you make it to the box, I’ll let you kiss me.”

  “Deal.”

  She wondered if he was smiling. She wondered how much he was hurting. She wondered if they were both going to see the night. “Ready for the last few steps?”

  “Not really.”

  “Let’s pretend.”

  “You do an awful lot of pretending.”

  “I learned young.”

  “Learned how to pretend?”

  “No, learned that it helps.”

  “With what?”

  “Dealing.”

  He let go of the hood. The first step was solid, the second shaky. The third sent them tumbling. Slade spun them around, taking the brunt of the impact. The flashlight beam sliced through the murk and dust motes, revealing the rusted tin roof. Her breath woofed out as she landed on top of him. She was vividly aware of every plane, every hard muscle of his lean form. She looked down at his hand, pressed over her stomach. The skin on the back was split and oozing. Her stomach rose. Oh God. “I’m going to be sick.”

  He didn’t let her go, didn’t move, just breathed slowly and steadily as his fingers spread across her abdomen. Her stomach roiled some more.

  “Let me go.”

  “No.”

  Something touched the edges of her mind. A soothing warmth that fanned inward along her bloodstream. His fingers splayed further, his cuts oozed more.

  “Look away.”

  “It’s not going to help.”

  “Humor me.”

  She did. The warmth spread, drawing her attention inward, toward the comfort of that heat. The nausea abated. She let out a breath.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Leaning back against him, she gave him her weight, letting him hold her for a second. Just one second. He didn’t even flinch, just took it as if it were his right. “I’ve got you, sweetness.”

  That “sweetness” ruined everything. Jane slid to the side, which was as far as he would let her go. Sunlight touched her toe. She turned and grabbed his hand. “You need to stand up, now.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  She tugged. He didn’t move. “Why are you so weak?”

  “I used a lot of energy levitating the car and feeding power to the engine while masking our presence.”

  She blinked. He’d done all that? He could do all that?

  “Add to that the fact that I’m naturally sluggish during daytime, and my body’s efforts to heal the burns...” He stood. “And it pretty much adds up to shutdown.”

  “You can’t control it?”

  Again, the touch on her cheek. “Even vampires have survival instincts.”

  She supposed they did. Twisting out of his emb
race, she motioned to the box. “You need to get in before you fry.”

  He didn’t move, just stared at her with those strange eyes that contained those strange, mesmerizing fires. “I freak you out.”

  She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “On many levels.”

  “Any of them good?”

  She wasn’t touching that with a ten-foot pole. Standing, she ordered, “Get in the box.”

  He held out his hand. She did her best not to look at the torn skin as she braced her feet. “On three, okay?”

  He nodded. “On three.”

  “One, two, three.” She hauled back. He pushed off. The momentum was enough to send him forward. She stumbled backward. Her knees collided with the back of the box. His hand slammed into the wall above her. His arm wrapped around her, keeping her from falling into the box. She quickly twisted, catching her weight on her hand, taking the burden off him. His touch didn’t leave her. It lingered in tingles of warmth that were deceptively calming. She closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. “We made it.”

  “So I see.”

  When she opened her eyes, he was looking down into the box. “You weren’t kidding about it being a tight fit.”

  He was right. It didn’t look possible. “It’s the only place here that the sun can’t reach you.”

  “True enough.”

  She couldn’t say Slade’s descent into the box was graceful, and he didn’t look comfortable once he was in there, seeing as his knees were nearly up around his chin.

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  A band of sunlight sneaked across her forearm and flirted with his shirt.

  “I’ll be fine. Close the lid.”

  She didn’t have any choice. Before she could close it all the way, he caught the edge. “A soon as you close this lid, I want you to get in that car and drive due north.”

  “Drive to where?”

  “As far as you can get. I don’t want you to stop. Just keep driving. Don’t use your credit cards, don’t use anything. Don’t trust anyone.”

  “Why?”

  “I want you to disappear.”

  She could only stare at him. “I can’t do that. I have a life.”

  “If you don’t do that, the life you’re going to have left isn’t one you’re going to like.”