Caleb

by McCarty, Sarah

  Don’t trust your eyes. No matter what you see. No matter how bad it gets, do not take your foot off the gas.

  Caleb’s words came back to her. She trusted Caleb, but more than that, she did not want to die as a wolf snack.

  She caught the lead wolf’s eye, flipped him the bird, and then jammed the accelerator to the floor. The little car shot forward. Her scream echoing all around the tiny interior, she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable collision.

  NO sudden impact. No grind of metal against stone. No shattered glass. And most of all, no horrendous pain.

  She opened her eyes. There was nothing ahead of her. No gloom. No sense of foreboding and certainly no boulder the size of Mount Olympia. Just a straight rutted path dappled in moonlight. Allie depressed the brake and looked back. The wolves milled a hundred feet behind. She could see them through the shimmering mirage of the boulder. Freaky.

  Caleb was right. For whatever reason, the wolves couldn’t follow her here.

  She slowed her speed to a manageable level, following the path for three more minutes before the ranch house came into view. It was a huge, well-lit structure sprawled between two hills. Nothing had ever looked more beautiful. She laid on the horn as she bounced along the road. She wanted Caleb front and center as soon as she stopped. She had a bone or two to pick with him.

  A man came out of the house as she slid into the drive. He was tall and from his silhouette, well muscled, but she knew instinctively he wasn’t Caleb. He was down the steps and at the back of the car before she completed her sideways skid. In the time it took to open her door, he was speaking into a gizmo on his shoulder and popping the hatch as if he knew exactly what she carried.

  Which maybe he did. If Caleb could communicate with her telepathically, he could most likely do so with others. She opened the door and got out of the car, ignoring the stab of discomfort that thought gave her. Slamming the car door shut, she asked, “Is the wolf still alive?”

  The answer was curt and slightly muffled as it came from the depths of the compact “Yes. No thanks to you.”

  No thanks to her? “I saved his life!”

  The man leaned out of the car, his expression drawn into one of disgust as his cold gray eyes flicked over her with impatience. “You would see it that way.”

  His gaze narrowed as he looked over her shoulder, the military cut adding to his aggressive aura. “You two help me here.”

  A quick glance revealed three men right behind her, all big and all looking at her with that same expression of dislike.

  “Where’s Caleb?” she asked the big blond, not liking the feeling she was getting.

  The blond didn’t answer, just jerked his chin toward her. “Lock her up.”

  She ducked, but it was too late. Her arms were unceremoniously yanked behind her.

  “What are we going to do with her?” a deep male voice asked conversationally above her head as if she weren’t kicking and twisting for all she was worth in his grip.

  “That’s for the brothers to decide.”

  The total disregard for her fate in the statement sent a chill down her spine.

  She screamed for Caleb with every breath she could gather. He was here. She knew he was here. He’d told her to come here. She screamed again, loud enough to make two of the men flinch, but the blond who appeared to be in charge merely lifted a brow at her as the other man half carried, half dragged her away from the car and said with calm finality, “He can’t help you now.”

  3

  ALLIE sat in the dark, windowless barn for what seemed like forever. From the growl in her stomach and the ache of her bladder, it was probably only a few hours, but it felt like days since she’d been trapped in the pitch-black interior, kicking at the strange rustlings in the hay-strewn floor whenever they got near, trapped between hope and fear that the door would open soon.

  “Damn it, Caleb, where are you?” Her voice, hoarse from calling for him, was hardly recognizable. Her brain felt equally strained from all her mental shouting. And it was all for nothing. None of her cries had resulted in a response. Had she been wrong to trust Caleb? Had it all been some sort of setup?

  She yanked at her bonds again, gasping with the pain as fresh blood dripped over her wrists. Her hands slid more easily against each other with the slippery moisture, allowing her to jerk harder, the bonds to cut deeper, but not granting her a bit of freedom. In other words, she was hurting herself for nothing.

  She slumped against the wall and blew her bangs off her forehead. How had her day gone from possibly landing a date with a hunky rancher to being tied up in a dark stall in his barn?

  The metal bolt on the stall clanked and the door opened. Not a wink of light illuminated the interior.

  “Who’s there?” she asked, pushing to her feet.

  Hands on her arms pulled her up the last foot.

  She kicked out hard and fast. She struck only air. As if her struggles were nothing more than a pesky gnat buzzing around the man’s purpose, she was turned around.

  “You’re bleeding,” the man said.

  “Like a stuck pig.” With any luck he’d be a fancy dresser and she’d ruin his outfit.

  “Good.”

  “Good?” she asked as he pulled her out of the stall into the slightly less dark of the barn corridor. “What are you, some sort of sadist?”

  “What I am would shock you.”

  She highly doubted that. “After the night I’ve had, I think I’m pretty much past shock.”

  And way past caution. She might be terrified out of her wits, but she wasn’t going to show it.

  The stall door thunked shut. “Good.”

  Again with the “good.” “Not much of a conversationalist, are you?”

  Her comment didn’t generate a response. She tripped over something on the floor. The hand on her arm didn’t let her fall, but it didn’t help her up either. She got the message. She either walked or was dragged. She scrambled to keep her feet.

  “So, who are you?”

  The man pulled her up short. She had a mental impression of something in front of her, but she couldn’t see a thing.

  “Jared.”

  “Caleb’s brother Jared?”

  He leaned forward, as if reaching for something. Damn it! She wished she could see.

  “Yes.”

  All she needed was one moment of inattention to make a break for it. His grip on her arm didn’t lessen as he slid the heavy barn door open.

  As if he could read her mind, he said, “You can’t escape.”

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder as the pale light of pre-dawn poured into the barn. “Who are you trying to convince, yourself or me?”

  His eyes glittered beneath the brim of his hat as he looked down at her from his six-foot-plus vantage point.

  “Would it be any use trying to convince you?” he asked, moving forward.

  She had to skip every other step to keep up. “Not much.”

  “Then I guess I’m about done talking to myself.”

  Like Caleb, he had a unique way of stringing his words together. Charming yet somehow old-fashioned. Well, charming if he wasn’t holding her prisoner and dragging her across the yard at breakneck speed.

  “I’m warning you right now, if you don’t slow down, I’m going to have an accident.”

  “I won’t let you fall.”

  “I’m not talking about that kind of accident.”

  His fingers tightened on her arm and just as quickly relaxed. He glanced at the eastern sky. His mouth, so like Caleb’s generous one with the same well-defined totally masculine shape, flattened to a straight line of disapproval, but he slowed.

  Well, that was one bit of useful information. They probably weren’t planning on killing her, seeing as how they were worried about her peeing her pants.

  “There are facilities inside,” he finally said.

  Her “Good to know” was a bit breathless. She really was going to have to get serious about gett
ing into shape when she got home. She risked a glance up as they reached the wide porch. That might have been a smile on the man’s mouth, but just that quick it was gone.

  Jared didn’t let her go as they climbed the steps, just kept that steady, uncompromising grip on her arm.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked as he half shoved, half escorted her through the front door.

  “To the facilities.” He leaned over her to open a door on the right. She never felt him touch her bonds, but her arms suddenly fell to her sides.

  “Be quick.”

  Easier said than done. Her arms, so long confined, refused to listen to a thing her brain had to say.

  Jared took his hat off, revealing a head of thick chestnut hair. The family resemblance to Caleb was even stronger without his hat. Same square face, well-defined cheekbones, large slightly slanted hazel eyes that leaned more toward green than blue, finished off by one stubborn-looking chin.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “Feeling to return to my arms.”

  He frowned down at her and then brusquely started massaging her arms. When his fingers ran over her wrists through her shirt, raw pain made her cry out. She jerked out of his reach.

  Something—regret maybe?—flashed in his hazel eyes as he looked at the blood on his fingers before his expression reverted to emotionless.

  “Be quick.”

  He didn’t have to worry. Her bladder wasn’t going to let her be anything else. If she hadn’t been in such a hurry, she might have paused before using what looked like an indoor outhouse from yesteryear, but bursting women could not be picky, and this was definitely an any-hole-in-a-pinch moment. It only took two seconds to determine there was no escape from the room. The door she’d entered was the only exit. The only light came from a small round window up high. There wasn’t any toilet paper and only a crude basin for washing her hands. There also wasn’t any water with which to fill the basin.

  Her bladder relieved, tissue from her pocket substituted for toilet paper, she began to think of other things. Like how to get out of this mess. Clearly, she couldn’t sneak out of the room. The tiny window wouldn’t fit her foot, let alone her hips. Which meant she couldn’t escape, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t stall. There was a bolt on the door. She carefully slid it home, wincing at the slight metallic grate as it worked into place.

  “Hurry up,” Jared called from the other side.

  “Just trying to figure out how to flush this thing.”

  Which was only half a lie. She didn’t have a clue as to how the monstrosity worked.

  “Pull the chain.”

  She did, stalling for time. It snapped off its rusted hook and fell across her arm.

  “Thanks,” she called with false cheerfulness, dropping the thin chain in the basin. A quick glance at the walls revealed nothing in the way of a weapon. Getting down on her hands and knees, she checked under the cabinet. Maybe someone had lost a wrench or something over the years.

  The door she’d locked swung open and two scuffed brown cowboy boots came into her line of vision a second before that familiar hand reattached itself to her arm and lifted her up.

  “I told you there was no escape.”

  She shrugged. “Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.”

  She reached for the chain as he dragged her out. With a shake of his head, he removed it from her hand. “You won’t need that.”

  “Why not?” she asked, arching a brow at him. “Because you don’t mean me any harm?”

  “Because it won’t do you any good.”

  So much for that hope. She resisted as much as she could as he tugged her down the dark hall. Which wasn’t much considering the strength in the man.

  He stopped, his brows snapping down with impatience. “Would you prefer to be bound?”

  “No.”

  “Then keep up.”

  He was a bossy son of a bitch. “Where are you taking me?”

  He paused in front of another door. “To Caleb.”

  She stopped resisting immediately. She had more than a few things she wanted to say to that man. But before she said anything, she wanted an apology. Considering she’d kept her promise—getting here without stopping—that was the least he owed her.

  SHE wasn’t going to get an apology. Allie stared in horror at Caleb. He was pale. So very pale. And the life that usually hummed off him in waves was now just an occasional flicker she could barely feel. Half his throat was laid open. He wasn’t bleeding anymore, and in truth his wound was like no other she’d ever seen. It almost looked as if it had started to heal and then had just stopped in some gross transitional phase.

  She took a step forward, drawn to where he lay on the bed, his big-boned body dark against the white sheets.

  “What happened to him?”

  “The wolves.” Jace practically spat the words.

  She looked at the three men standing around her. She knew them by sight, all three clones of Caleb in one form or another. Indisputably brothers in looks and temperament—fists balled as if ready to fight at the drop of a hat, jaws set in preparation. The question was, for what?

  “Why haven’t you taken him to the hospital?”

  “He doesn’t need a hospital,” Jared said, anger slicing through every word.

  “He needs blood,” Slade clarified.

  Allie shook her head, touching Caleb’s bare shoulder over the white sheet. He was so cold. So still.

  “That’s precisely why he needs to be in the hospital.”

  Jared stepped forward. “He doesn’t need that kind of blood.”

  She looked at him, something in his tone alerting her. This wasn’t going to be good. He grabbed her wrist, pulled back her shirt, and exposed her wounds. “He needs it straight from the source.”

  Blood flowed. His eyes glowed. Good God, his eyes glowed!

  “No.” She shook her head and stepped back as far as his grip on her arm let him.

  “Jesus, Jared, I thought we were going to break it to her gently.” Jace stepped forward as if to break his brother’s grip.

  “Why?” Jared asked, stepping between her and Jace. “So she’ll understand why she’s going to die? Do you think that makes it any more acceptable?”

  “She’s not going to die.”

  Slade’s words might sound sure, but the expression on his face didn’t do much for Allie’s nerves.

  “Caleb would never take too much,” Jace argued.

  Too much? Too much what? Blood ran down her arm in a hot stream, an unreal precursor to the incomprehensible.

  “Can someone tell me what you’re trying so hard to break to me gently?” Allie asked, her voice higher than normal as she fought the reality they were trying to force her to accept.

  Jared stared at her for a moment, his fingers biting into her forearm, before he said flatly, “We’re vampires.”

  “That’s nuts!” She tugged her arm. Jared didn’t let go. He caught and held her gaze with his and slowly spread his lips in an obscene parody of a smile. Fangs gleamed on either side of his mouth. Sharp, white, freak-a-girl-out fangs.

  She yanked her arm free, clutching her wrist against the pain and took a step away, staring at those fangs, at what they implied. She shook her head.

  “Are you telling me that the big, macho Johnson brothers went goth to the point of getting cosmetic dentistry?”

  “Technically, I don’t think goths are vamp imitators,” Slade offered almost conversationally.

  “We don’t have time for this,” Jared interrupted. “We need to get on with it.”

  “Get on with what?” she had to ask, even though she was reasonably sure she didn’t want to know. The hairs on the back of her neck were prickling, and a sick feeling of dread settled in the pit of her stomach. First the monster wolves and now . . . this.

  Jared grabbed her arm again. “Caleb needs a reason to live.” He pulled her toward the bed. “You’re going to give it to him.”

&nb
sp; She dug in her heels. It didn’t do any good. The man was incredibly strong. “By giving him blood?”

  His smile was cold and hard. “You’ll give him a hell of a lot more than that.”

  He held her bloody wrist to Caleb’s dry, cold lips. Caleb was so still, she couldn’t even feel a breath against her skin.

  “You’re crazy,” she breathed, staring, as everyone else was, at Caleb. Waiting in horror and a sick fascination for him to do something. As if he was capable of doing anything except dying right then. She shook her head. This was insane.

  She braced her feet and pushed back against Jared’s grip. “You don’t have time to indulge in this mass delusion. You need to get Caleb to the hospital.”

  Jared merely held her wrist more firmly against Caleb’s lips while the other brothers stood, tense with anticipation. Waiting. She didn’t know what they expected of her, but she knew she didn’t have whatever they thought it took to revive a dead man.

  Caleb’s eyes flew open with a suddenness that jarred a scream from her throat. She jerked back, met the barrier of Jared’s strength, and went nowhere.

  “Feed, Caleb,” he whispered, for the first time showing the faintest hint of vulnerability as he scraped his nail across her raw wrist. The pain made her gasp. Fresh blood welled. Caleb’s nostrils flared as his eyes changed from dead flat to a deep green lit with strange, swirling golden lights.

  “Feed, damn you,” Jace whispered as if terrified of disturbing the moment.

  Caleb closed his strangely glowing eyes. Allie’s knees went weak with relief. He wasn’t going to do it.

  “Son of a bitch!” Slade cursed. “He said he’d never do it again, and you know how he is.”

  Tension flooded the room.

  “Oh no you don’t,” Jared muttered as he stared at Caleb. Allie dared a glance at his face. His lighter eyes began to glow in the dark room as the lines of his face settled into an expression of formidable determination. “You got us all into this. You don’t just get to walk away.”

  Who or what were these people? Pain in her arm drew her eyes down. She could only stare in openmouthed shock as the nails on Jared’s hand grew into talons that curved and pierced her skin. The scream that welled in her throat died as a presence pushed into her mind and quelled the instinct, holding her bound, paralyzing her in a cocoon of horror and pain.