Slade

by Sarah McCarty

  Slade stood. “He can’t afford another problem.”

  She spun back around. “Slade, stop telling me what I already know. Okay. I realize this is life and death. I realize if I get this wrong I kill this kid. Okay? I get it. I get it. I get it.”

  “Jesus God, Jane!” Reaching out, Slade grabbed her and pulled her close. “Baby, you’re doing all you can.”

  She pushed against this chest “And if it’s not enough, what? Do you think Caleb’s not going to blame me? Do you think Allie’s not going to blame me? Do you think you aren’t going to blame me?” She shook her head. “They think you walk on water and they expect me to strut right along beside you, but I’ve done this before. I’ve lost this battle before. I know how it goes. I don’t want another life on my conscience. I don’t want this, but I don’t have a choice.”

  Slade’s energy wrapped around her, holding her tighter than his arms.

  “You have a choice.” He took the notebook from her hand. “I can take over.”

  Jane allowed herself the illusion that that was possible while she let Slade siphon off the worst of her agitation. When she was calm again, she took the notebook back. “You can’t. Not in the time frame we have.”

  She appreciated that he didn’t argue, but what she appreciated more was the way he stood beside her. “Then we’d better get to work.”

  IT was different working with someone who was as capable as she was. An equal, not an assistant. Someone who wasn’t afraid to interrupt her thoughts and put forth his own. Irritating, too, but good. At first she fought it, but as they worked she realized how much they complemented each other. Soon they were finishing each other’s thoughts, leaping through the process much quicker than she would have on her own. Just another area in which they were compatible. Which was good. They didn’t have time for trial and error. They needed a solution. And, three hours later, she held up the little bottle full of clear liquid; they had it.

  “Should we call them?” she asked, screwing the eyedropper lid onto the bottle.

  Slade looked at her. “How sure are you that this is it?”

  “As sure as I can be. How sure are you?”

  He leaned back in the chair, looking at the latest calculations. “Sick-in-my-gut-one-shot-at-life sure.”

  She took his hand and held on. They’d done all they could. The only thing left was to see if it was enough. Slade laced his fingers through hers.

  “Then it’s time to make the call.”

  SLADE led the way. By the time they got to the nursery, it seemed like half the compound was in the hall. Jane walked the gauntlet of hope-filled faces, keeping her gaze centered on Slade’s back, her heart in her throat. At the door, Slade stopped.

  “You go in. I’ll handle the riffraff.”

  Predictably the riffraff had something to say about that. The attempts at humor did break some of the tension, though. She mouthed a “thank you.”

  She felt his smile. You’re welcome.

  Taking a steadying breath, Jane stepped into the room. Allie sat on the rocker by the window. Joseph was wrapped in a blanket cradled in her arms. There was no sign of Caleb. On the table beside them was the bottle of baby formula that Slade had prepared. They’d decided it’d be best to simply feed Joseph the liquid protein along with his usual diet. They did not want to introduce any additional variables—they had enough of those to deal with as it was. Everything was set to go.

  Allie’s smile was tremulous but with that optimism Jane was beginning to understand was so much of her personality. “We’re ready,” Allie said.

  Jane held up the vial of protein. “So are we.”

  “Is that the magic elixir?” Allie asked.

  “Yup.” Jane forced what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “This is it.”

  “It doesn’t look too impressive.”

  “Well, if you’d ever seen proteins under a microscope, you’d know they make this look fancy.”

  “He needs protein?”

  “Not just any protein. A specific one.”

  “And when he gets it?”

  “I think he’ll have what he needs to be his little vampire self.”

  Allie kissed the top of her son’s head. “Do you hear that, baby? Auntie Jane is going to have you smiling in no time.”

  Auntie Jane?

  “How much do I give him?” Allie asked.

  “That’s the catch. I don’t know. But you’re very connected to your son and that gives us an advantage. So the plan is, you give him a little of the protein, and then you try the bottle. If he eats, we know we’re on the right track. If not, we’ll try a bit more of the protein.”

  Allie sighed. “Trial and error.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jane said, kneeling down beside the rocker. How many times had she said that in the past? How many times had she stood and watched a parent’s world crumple around them?

  Please. Not this time.

  Slade’s mind touched hers. I’m here.

  Yes, he was. Not with promises she wouldn’t believe and he couldn’t keep. But just there. Ready to catch her. Stand for her. Support her.

  Thank you.

  “I wish I could give you definite amounts,” Jane continued, “but we’re on uncharted ground and we have to feel our way.”

  Allie nodded. “And this won’t make him worse?”

  The only way Joseph could be worse would be if he were dead. “It shouldn’t,” she hedged.

  “It’ll be fine,” Slade said, coming up beside her. “Jane’s a genius at what she does.”

  “And in case no one’s mentioned it yet, we’re damned glad she is,” Caleb stated, striding into the room behind Slade, looking like a warrior entering the battlefield. She tensed. Slade’s fingers tightened on her shoulder.

  “I’m glad you made it,” Slade said.

  Caleb took a protective position behind Allie. “I wouldn’t miss watching my son enjoy his first meal.”

  Slade offered her a hand up. Jane shook her head. “I’d like to watch from here.”

  Mainly because she was so nervous she thought her knees would give out. Without a word, Slade knelt behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her onto his lap. And that fast, she didn’t feel like a scientist out on a limb anymore. Instead, she felt like a woman who was ... loved.

  Slade’s lips brushed the top of her head. It’ll be all right, sweetness.

  “So what do we do?” Caleb asked, taking the vial from Jane and unscrewing the lid.

  “Give him half a dropper first. Just kind of dribble it in.”

  The room collectively caught its breath as Caleb slipped the tube between Joseph’s pale lips. “Drink this, little man,” he said as he squeezed the dropper. “A very nice lady made it. It’s going to get you back to rights in no time.”

  Some of the liquid spilled out of the baby’s mouth. The rest trickled to the back of his throat. At least he still had the reflex to swallow. Allie and Caleb looked at her. Jane nodded.

  “Give him the bottle,” Slade ordered.

  Everyone held their breath. Even the flow of energy froze.

  The same thing happened with the formula as with the protein mix. Joseph wasn’t eating so much as he was trying not to choke, but the liquid was getting down to his stomach, and after a couple minutes his eyes snapped open and he latched on to the bottle. He sucked it down so hard Jane could hear it draw.

  “He’s eating!” Allie cried out.

  “That’s it, little man,” Caleb murmured. “Drink.”

  A collective sigh of relief echoed around the upper floor as people released their tension in applause, laughter, or muted cheers.

  Jane held back on her celebration. Starting to eat was a plus, but she needed Joseph to continue eating, and after he ate, to keep the food down.

  “Don’t let him take too much at first,” she cautioned. “It’s been a long time since he’s truly eaten in terms of being able to digest his food and we don’t want to overwhelm his system.”r />
  Allie rested her cheek against Caleb’s hand and nodded, smiling up at her husband. Joseph showed no sign of stopping.

  “Do you think he’s going to need more protein?” Caleb asked.

  Jane shrugged and held out her hands. “I don’t—”

  “I know,” he said with a snap of energy. “You don’t know.”

  “Back off, Caleb,” Slade ordered with a snap of his own. “She’s saving your son’s life. If you want to get picky about the trial-and-error aspect, get someone else to do it.”

  “We want Jane,” Allie cut in. “And, Caleb?”

  “What?”

  Allie eased the bottle from Joseph’s mouth. “I love you, but please be quiet until you get your fear under control.”

  “Shit.” He ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes on his son. “He’s getting uncomfortable?”

  “He’s getting full,” Allie corrected.

  “Is that all it is?” Caleb asked Joseph in a soft murmur. “Is your tummy full?”

  Slade reached out and rested the back of his fingers against Joseph’s cheek, his love for his nephew evident. “Going to have to work on that. The Johnsons are known for their appetite.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be beating his father out of bear claws in no time,” Allie interjected.

  The hope was contagious. Jane smiled. “I didn’t think vampires ate.”

  “He throws them up,” Allie explained, “but he does love them.”

  “It keeps me human,” Caleb quipped and with the cares of his world temporarily lifted, Jane saw the charm that would draw a woman like Allie.

  “I think he looks better already,” Allie said, kissing Joseph’s forehead. The stair creaked as the hall cleared, giving the family their privacy.

  Jane didn’t see a difference yet. “We’ll have to keep an eye on him. If he gets sick and has any other abnormal symptoms we’ll need to come at the problem from a different angle.”

  Allie shook her head. “No, this is working.” She paused and then asked, “It’s because of how we got pregnant that he’s having problems, isn’t it? I was still human when he was conceived. That’s why he didn’t get what he needed.”

  “I don’t know.” Jane shrugged. “Maybe it’s just one of those things. A birth defect.”

  “Can you keep making this protein?” Caleb asked.

  “Yup. As long as Caleb’s willing to give blood. Eventually I might be able to make it out of any vampire’s blood, but—” She shrugged again.

  “It’s too soon and you don’t know,” Caleb finished, but this time without the sharpness.

  “No, I don’t know. We just have to wait it out.”

  Caleb stepped around the rocker and held out his hand. Slade lifted her up. When she took Caleb’s hand, instead of shaking it, he pulled her in for a hug. It was a little stiff and a lot awkward. She got the impression the man didn’t do this much. “Thank you.”

  Tears she didn’t know she was suppressing gathered in her eyes. Caleb stepped back and looked at her. “Hell, Slade,” he said, “I think your woman’s sprung a leak.”

  Jane wiped at her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired.”

  “Exhausted would be a better description, I’m guessing.”

  Turning Jane with a gentle grip on her shoulders, Caleb gave her a little shove toward Slade. “Take your woman to bed.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Before Jane could offer a comment one way or another on the brothers’ high-handedness, Slade scooped her up in his arms. Once there, it seemed just easier to link her hands behind his neck and rest her cheek against his chest. She really was tired. Around her, the family continued to banter. She absorbed the happy energy, letting it flow through her. The celebration might be premature, but she didn’t think so. After the days of fear and negativity, this moment of normal felt good. Very good.

  Allie put Joseph to her chest and burped him. He belched loudly, but it was a dry burp. No vomit in sight. Everybody smiled.

  “A true Johnson,” Slade bragged.

  Jane rolled her eyes. “That’s the Johnson claim to fame? The ability to belch?”

  “It’s one of them,” Caleb assured her.

  “Good grief.”

  Allie shook her head and rubbed Joseph’s back, a smile tugging her lips. “One we’ll be discontinuing.”

  “Don’t worry, Joseph,” Slade said. “Your uncles will sneak you out from under the women’s thumbs and teach you all the important skills of being a man.”

  “Oh my God. Go before you corrupt my sweet innocent boy.”

  Caleb laughed outright. “Allie girl, there’s not a Johnson born whose been sweet and innocent.”

  “Now you tell me.”

  “I bet you’re glad to be back in the lab?”

  Jane looked up from the slide she was preparing to see Allie standing in the doorway of the lab. One night had made quite a difference in the woman. She looked young and carefree.

  “Yes. It’s a pretty scary world out there when you know what’s lurking in the shadows.”

  Allie stepped into the room. “Especially with Sanctuary hunting you.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Actually, I do. They held me prisoner for a while.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  Allie’s grimace nowhere near matched the stress flare of her energy. “It was an experience.”

  “It doesn’t show.”

  “Should it?”

  “I don’t know, those monsters I saw ...” She shrugged. “I can’t imagine it not leaving scars.”

  “Fortunately vampires heal.”

  “Yes.” Shoving her chair back, Jane hazarded a guess. “You want to talk to me about something, don’t you?”

  “I want to talk to you about Slade.”

  “I haven’t seen him since he put me to bed last night.”

  “I know. What I want to know is why.”

  “Maybe he just doesn’t need me anymore?”

  “What makes you think that?’

  “His absence?”

  Allie rolled her eyes. She had an expressive face. It was easy to see why Caleb loved her. She radiated life. “The Johnson men are stubborn.”

  Jane smoothed a crease in her jeans. “How is Slade doing anyway, physically, I mean?”

  “It’s taking him longer to fully heal than he wants to admit, but Tobias said he’ll be at full strength in no time.”

  “Tobias. He’s in the middle of everything.”

  “Yeah, he is. I think of him as a catalyst. Wherever Tobias lands, things change. Whether you want them to or not.”

  “And you still keep him around?”

  “Change is part of life. You can fight it, but it’s still going to happen.”

  Which was not a soothing comment to a control freak like Jane. Picking up a pen on the desk, she asked, “While you’re here, can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “What’s it like to be vampire?”

  “Honestly?”

  “I don’t think I can take a lie right now.”

  Allie laughed. “Then I’ll save my creativity for later.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Being vampire is like being human on steroids. You can do everything bigger and better, even screwing up.”

  “Great.” She gave the pen a swirl.

  Allie put her hand on the pen, stopping its spin. “It really is no different than being human. There are things you can do and things you can’t do. You fall in love. You make sacrifices. You adjust to your environment. You don’t get to enjoy the sun, but there’s beauty in the night. Pain is more intense but so is pleasure.”

  “And you have wars.”

  Allie shrugged and sat back. “So do humans.”

  She had a point. Jane tapped the pen on the smooth metal. “What about the blood? And keep in mind you’re talking to someone who doesn’t even like her meat to be pink in the center.”

  “I was a vegeta
rian.”

  Jane gripped the pen hard, watching her knuckles turn white. “Didn’t you vomit? The first time at least?”

  “I wanted to.”

  “Why do I hear a ‘but’?”

  “Because there usually is one?”

  “Nobody likes a know-it-all.”

  “So I’m always telling Slade. Maybe if you stick around, you can convince him of it.”

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

  Allie cocked her head to the side. “I can hold my breath for a very long time.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Because I’m clearly a woman of many talents who was able to get past all the ick factors of vampirism?”

  Jane tossed the pen on the table. “How did you do that?”

  “I can take only Caleb’s blood, and I find it very erotic.” She smiled a gamine grin. “Bottom line, for me sex was the great equalizer.”

  Jane couldn’t imagine it.

  Allie’s grin faded. “So, joking aside, have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

  “You mean right after I stomp Slade’s toes for being such an ass?”

  “Yes. Right after that.”

  Jane sighed. “I have no idea.”

  “I could play devil’s advocate,” Allie offered.

  “I kind of thought you already were.”

  “But now we can make it official and I won’t have to waste a lot of time delicately broaching the subject.”

  It was hard to imagine the always-serious Caleb with the irreverent Allie. “You must give Caleb fits.”

  “I have to. It’s in my job description.”

  “Really?”

  “You know, he didn’t believe it, either. I had to point it out. It was right there under the clause specifying all the mind-blowing lovemaking he could stand.”

  Jane couldn’t help but laugh. She didn’t imagine many people stayed tense around Allie. “No wonder he didn’t see it.”

  She swung her feet. “I was counting on his attention stopping right about there.”

  “I like you, Allie Johnson.”

  “I like you, too, Jane Frederickson. And not only because you saved my son’s life.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And I for one think you’re perfect for Slade.”