“Allie . . .”
Footsteps approached. By concentrating, she could make out three sets, two light and one almost nonexistent. Vincent had returned with two women, and from the hard pulse of his anger, he wasn’t thrilled with what he saw. She concentrated harder on decoding the bonds.
“Free my hand,” Caleb growled.
She jumped, thinking he meant her, but a quick glance up showed the bottom of that stubborn chin. He wasn’t looking at her.
“Now why on Earth would I want to do that?” Vincent asked.
“Because if you do, I’ll make your death quick rather than the painful one I’ve currently got planned.”
“I don’t think you’re in a position to threaten anyone.”
Caleb didn’t move, but a deadly energy radiated off him. Cold. Black. Scary. “Thinking seems to be your weak point.”
Vincent motioned the women forward. “High talk for a man strapped to a table.”
“I won’t feed without the use of my hand.”
“Then starve.”
“What can it hurt?” Allie asked. Nothing was going to hurt as much as watching Caleb seduce another woman with his mouth. Take pleasure from her body. She pulled in a breath. “He’s confined with so many straps, freeing one of his hands can’t possibly be a problem.”
“It would make him happy.”
And that ended that. The sadistic son of a bitch. Anger rose, so thick she thought she’d choke on it. The anger swelled within, growing to an unbearable tension, past the point she felt she could contain it, pressing outward. The rage grew like a wild thing, searching and seeking a target. Allie met Vincent’s gaze across Caleb’s chest. His eyelids flickered. So did the bond under her hand. She smiled inside, satisfaction joining the rage.
“Please, I’m begging you, I need him to hold me. Please free his hand.”
Three steps and Vincent was at their side. She flinched when he touched her hair. Shuddered when he stroked his hand down the length. Beneath her, Caleb snarled.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see the obscenity of Vincent’s smile.
“Ah, nothing’s prettier than a begging woman, don’t you agree?”
“Will agreeing get my hand free?” Caleb asked.
Vincent repeated the caress, but he wasn’t looking at her. His focus was totally on taunting Caleb. “Try it and find out.”
Caleb’s jaw clenched. His drawl lacked its normal fluidity as he ground out, “There’s nothing prettier than a begging woman.”
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” With a magnanimous flourish, Vincent waved at the right restraint.
The bond under her hand heated, became hectic with tendrils of energy. Critical energy. Allie focused, absorbing all she could, cataloging the information. The electronic bond winked out. Too soon.
The steel cuff released with a clank. Caleb’s arm came around her slowly, the muscles undoubtedly stiff from so long without moving.
“Thank you.” The words escaped on a sigh as the weight of Caleb’s arm settled around her. Solid and heavy. Blessedly familiar. His palm curved around her shoulder, tucking her tighter into the shelter of his embrace. Pure unadulterated agony cramped her belly. She was so hungry. Needed him so badly.
She felt his “Come here” as much as she heard it, wishing with all her heart he was talking to her, knowing he was talking to one of the honey blondes waiting with plump lips, anxious eyes, and full D-cup breasts. His pectorals flexed as he shifted his weight. She felt his hunger, not in her mind, but in the honing of his muscles, and that particular intensity that was uniquely his. There was a feminine gasp above her head that quickly became a sigh.
Anger, hot, searing, and primitive, shot through her as the woman’s scent flooded the vicinity. She was offering herself to him.
Allie watched her talons extend from her fingertips, elongating along the curve of Caleb’s shoulder, each deadly inch a reflection of the destructive hatred burning deep. The bitch moaned with pleasure. A snarl welled in her throat. Her muscles bunched. She’d kill her.
Caleb’s hand clamped down on the side of her head, pressing her fangs into his flesh. Blood filled her mouth. She let it roll out, hunger a secondary concern to the woman rubbing against Caleb’s side, seducing him with her perfect body, perfect blood, perfect willingness. She jerked her head around. Her face throbbed with a strange tension. Her fangs cut into her cheeks. The woman’s expression sliced through Allie’s confidence like a knife. Her smile was dreamy, replete, and so satisfied, it begged for retaliation.
On a growl that rumbled up from her toes, Allie slipped out of Caleb’s hold and went for her. A hairsbreadth from sinking her talons into the woman’s chest, she was yanked up short. Pain exploded through her scalp. She spun around. Pressure on her hair tightened her turn, spinning her into the curve of Caleb’s wrist. His eyes glowed with gold lights, a smear of blood lingered by the corner of his mouth. She lashed out at him for the offense. He turned his head away from the slap. Her nails cut into his cheek just under his eye.
He took the blow, but when she pulled back her hand to swing again, he shook her, keeping her suspended above him with his grip on her hair. His “Stop it” picked up the internal litany ringing in her head. Stop. Stop. Stop.
Blood dripped down his cheek from the cuts of her nails, slowly pooling along his mouth, eventually reaching the other woman’s mark. She watched as it seeped along the edges, bleeding into the stain, covering it. It wasn’t enough. She needed him to bleed more, hurt more, enough so it wouldn’t matter.
“It doesn’t matter, Allie.”
Caleb repeated the assurance again as he held Allie above him at arm’s length. He didn’t even think she was aware of her grip on his wrist or the way her talons pierced his skin. All she was aware of was his touch on another woman, her emotional pain brilliant in her blue eyes, the golden lights vivid glittering shards of betrayal.
Her vampire couldn’t handle this. He should have known it couldn’t, but she’d seemed so calm about it. Accepting. “Seemed” being the operative word. He didn’t dare pull her as close as he wanted. All that pain made her unpredictable. Maybe even deadly.
If she wanted to kick his ass after this was over, that would be her option, but until she was safely back at the Circle J, she was going to have to keep her ass kicking in the fantasy realm. He shook her again, the hair spilling over his fist, the tendrils swaying with the violence between them.
“She means nothing.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth, following the movement of his lips as if hypnotized. “Food, nothing more.”
He waited, blood flowing down his cheek, for the words to sink in, wishing he could use the mental connection again, but the return of the buzzing meant Vincent had slammed the door shut as soon as he’d realized Allie had opened it.
Beside them, oblivious to the danger, the other woman stood panting, her breath coming in hungry gasps, the scent of her desire fouling the air. Blood gushed from her open wound. He had to do something about that. He snapped his fingers, locked his gaze to hers, and ordered, “Put your wrist in my left hand.”
The woman reacted like a puppet on a string, her eyes clinging to his, her hips brushing against his fingers, rubbing in a clear invitation. He pressed his thumb on the artery he’d bitten into, suppressing the blood loss. If Allie’s need wasn’t reaching critical point, he’d send her away, but without blood Allie wouldn’t be able to escape. And as much as he hated that she hurt, her survival was priority. Blood pumped, flowed, pooled, while he waited. At last, Allie’s gaze lifted from his mouth, a question in her eyes.
“Hard choices, baby.” There were so many hard choices in this life. He’d spare her as many as he could, but there were some she would have to deal with alone. Like this one.
Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. She closed her eyes. Her lips worked some more, shaping syllables he understood. Counting. She was counting, he realized. He relaxed. She was regaining her control. Her whisper when
it finally came was as shaky as he’d ever heard it.
“You don’t want her?”
“No.” In the past he’d wanted his prey. Lust and bloodlust went together. He’d never indulged. Taking a woman who wasn’t aware of what was going on amounted to rape in his book, but he’d felt the passion. He lowered Allie to rest against his chest again.
“Allie, either I close this artery or I feed.”
“Why am I always the one making these decisions?”
Because she was the one they kept hurting. Damn, he wished he could change that, but he couldn’t. No more than he could shelter her from the pain. All he could do was hold her and whisper truths that had to sound like empty promises. “My turn’s coming round soon enough.”
Because after this, he couldn’t justify holding her. If she wanted to leave him, he’d let her go and take the emotional death that came with her departure as no more than he deserved.
Her leg drew up over his thigh. Her fangs raked his flesh with that feminine delicacy that always shot straight to his groin. That little hesitation was the most erotic thing he’d ever felt. And it didn’t matter if they had witnesses. His body reacted like they were alone.
Her pleasure hummed against his skin. “I like that.”
“What?”
“The way you come alive at my touch.”
“That’s good, because I don’t have a choice.”
Over the slight curve of her shoulder, he could see Vincent’s impatient shift. He was letting this play out for reasons of his own. Reasons Caleb didn’t think Allie was aware of, but the bastard wouldn’t get his hands on her. Caleb would personally guarantee that. He just needed them both at full strength before he could get them out of there. Allie took advantage of his distraction to glance at the woman again. Her body went tight.
Caleb squeezed her shoulder. “I don’t have to let her enjoy it.”
Allie jerked. Her hands clenched, nails digging into his thigh and screeching down the metal table as she battled herself. Her “No” was hoarse, telling him how hard the battle had been between her human self and the purely selfish drive of the vampire. “Don’t let her hurt.”
It was the answer he’d expected. Still, he was amazed that she’d been able to make it with jealousy riding her so hard. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head before pressing her face into his chest. “Close your eyes and stay put.”
For once she followed direction without argument, burying her face in his throat as the muscles in her back writhed under his hand with a fresh surge of hunger. Damn, after two days, the pain had to be unbearable. And he couldn’t share it or bear part of it for her. This feeding needed to get done. Caleb held Allie’s head against him as he caught the gaze of the hopeful. “Give me your wrist.”
Beyond a shudder, Allie didn’t move. He fed as fast and efficiently as possible, not handling the woman’s lust like he might have, leaving it to Vincent to deal with. When he was done, he called the other girl over, almost identical to the first, same bust size, same ultrathick lashes, same hair color. The only difference was bone structure. But even that was very similar. While they were all someone’s idea of perfection, it was a consolation that none of them looked like Allie.
The woman presented her arm. He bit gently, fed efficiently. As soon as he took as much as he could, he ordered the woman away.
“Done already?” Vincent asked.
“Yes.”
Allie’s head came up. Along with it her snarl. He thought she was going to hit him again. He’d let her if she needed to. Instead she fought the sleeve of her robe and scrubbed obsessively at his mouth. When his face felt raw and she still showed no sign of stopping, he wrapped his fingers in her hair and tugged. “Enough.”
The wildness left her eyes to slowly be replaced by horror. She looked at her arm, and then at his mouth, which had to be reddened from the abrasion. Tears welled in her eyes again. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
“And here I was about to thank you for making me presentable.”
She stared at him for a heartbeat, clutching her wrist in her hand. She blinked and then gasped. He didn’t have to ask why. Her stomach muscles cramped so hard he had the impression she’d doubled over long before she actually had. “Shit.”
She struggled to get off him. He held her in place.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Then get sick.”
She shook her head. “Not on you.”
“I’d prefer you hit the floor, but if it comes down to me holding you through it or you going through it alone, you go right ahead and heave up your toes all over me.” Holding her was the only comfort he could offer her, and he wasn’t going to withdraw it, not for love or money, or the threat of a mess.
She lay on her side on top of him, her body twisted into a fetal ball, riding out the pain he’d given her when he’d turned her, panting in short staccato breaths that didn’t leave much room for speech. But she still managed a “Glutton.”
He stroked her hair. “When it comes to you, always.”
Across the room, Vincent stood straight, those pale eyes watching with a predatory gleam, a damn coyote waiting to steal the prize. Caleb flipped him the middle finger. He was never getting Allie.
Allie bucked on him, dry heaves racking her body. So violently he expected her bones to separate from her joints. He didn’t know how she survived it. She felt so frail to him, though if he told her that, he had a feeling she’d spend an hour explaining to him the wrongness of his notion. The heaves finally ended, leaving her pale and shaking, barely conscious, so exhausted her breaths were whis pery sighs rather than healthy inhalations.
“Enough of this.” With two quick, heavy steps, Vincent approached the table, staying on Caleb’s bound side. Too bad. Caleb would have taken great pleasure in wringing his neck. Vincent grabbed Allie’s upper arm, yanking her up and around before shoving her face to Caleb’s throat. She hung limp in his grasp, either incapable or unwilling to follow his order to feed.
Fury as he’d never known poured through Caleb. Fangs exploded back into his mouth. His talons extended to their full six inches. With a disgusted curse, Vincent dropped Allie. She sprawled atop Caleb like a broken doll.
Vincent poked her. She didn’t move. “Fucking bitch left it too late.”
It wasn’t too late. He wouldn’t let it be. Caleb cradled Allie’s head in his palm, holding her mouth against his chest. He slipped his pinkie between her lips and his skin, angling it down, slicing deep. Blood pooled against his finger and spread to her lips. She didn’t respond. Damn.
“C’mon baby. Just a little. For me.”
Her eyes closed. He guessed he could take it as a no. Vincent shook her. Her head rolled back and forth. Caleb slashed Vincent’s arm, snarling in satisfaction as blood sprayed in an arc. “Do that again and I’ll cut your fucking arm off.”
Vincent sealed the wound with his tongue, ignoring the crimson splash across his robe. “Your usefulness is about over, cowboy. Instead of making pointless threats, I’d suggest thinking about ways to keep me from killing you.”
Talk about useless. That threat was about as viable as teats on a bull. “She’s unconscious.”
Blood pooled on his chest between them, chilling in the cool air. Caleb rubbed some on her tongue. Did her lashes flicker?
Vincent folded his arms across his chest. “Wake her up.”
Caleb didn’t spare him a glance. “Drop the barrier.”
“You don’t give the orders here.”
“I’m giving this one, and if you want Allie to feed, you’ll follow it.”
The other man held his gaze, projecting his dominance with mind and stance. Caleb dismissed both. He’d kicked the asses of more impressive men while on a three-day bender. He pushed Allie’s bangs off her face. She was so pale. Too pale. He brushed his lips over her hair. With an abruptness that resounded louder than a clanging bell, the buzzing disappeared. Vincent had given in. Caleb hid his elation aga
inst her cheek.
“Allie, if you don’t wake up and feed right now, I’m going to trash that damn stove you’re so fond of and sell it as scrap.” He put his lips by her ear. “Just think, you’ll never get that bear claw recipe perfected. Jared will forever be teasing you about your baked goods.” Her eyelids definitely flickered then. “And before you give up, you might just want to remember how long a time forever is for us.”
Her lips moved against his chest.
“What?”
“Bastard.”
The smile pushed out from his soul. “That’s my girl. Come out swinging.”
“Can I feed now?”
“Yes.”
She lapped at his skin. Her body moved against his side. Soft, sweet, and sexy. His. Everything he ever wanted. He massaged his fingers through her hair, giving her the time she needed, knowing how difficult it was going to be when it ended. He didn’t think she’d thought that far down the road to what would happen when one hunger replaced another. But, seeing the expectation on Vincent’s face, the eagerness betrayed by his tense muscles, Vincent had.
And that conversion of desire was the whole reason he’d brought Allie here. Vincent figured on taking the lust that followed bloodlust and using it to bind Allie to him. He planned on raping her.
Caleb lifted his lip in response to Vincent’s smile. The son of a bitch would never touch her.
With a little sigh that shot straight to his groin, Allie centered her fangs. Every color in the spectrum of erotic delight shot through his system as her bite took him over the edge into pleasure. He loved the moment when she gave herself to him like this, trusting him to take care of her, letting him take care of her. She was such an independent soul, it didn’t happen often. Not a wholehearted surrender. The moments when it did should be savored.
But this one wouldn’t be. Just one more debt to lay at Vincent’s feet. This time there was too much at stake. Allie’s lips brushed his skin in velvet caresses as she fed, her breath a soft quavery invitation, breeding a deeper need. He let it rise, subtly gathering his strength behind the veil of the hunger, projecting his sexual response, distracting Vincent with the sensations, while in his mind he gathered the familiar voices. His brothers were coming.
Caleb Page 28