Two things became immediately apparent. He wasn’t close. And he was definitely male. It was very masculine energy she was following. Whoever, he was working from far away, tapping into her mental energy, experimenting with the tags everyone had that were like mental P.O. boxes. Her response to what she now recognized as a broad scope probe had given him her address. Caleb was not going to be happy about that.
The foreign energy flared and probed. There was a familiar pattern to his search. It was like Vincent’s, but different. More sophisticated. Stronger, without the fanatical hyperactivity that had blurred the edges of Vincent’s probes.
Allie smoothed her energy as she felt a push from the stranger, faking neutrality, keeping herself hidden behind normalcy. At least she hoped it was normal. So much adrenaline was flooding her system, she wasn’t sure of anything. The probe came again, scattered. Whoever it was suspected she was there, but couldn’t pinpoint her enough for a direct hit.
The bolt on the closet door rattled. She gasped and jerked. The start shattered her concentration. Bright light flooded her mind, heralding the invasion of that mental presence. She clapped her hands over her ears to squeeze it out as she scrambled away from the door that was opening. More light flooded her mind, obscuring normal vision. She blinked, but all she could see was that white light. It flickered with images of the door opening. Hinges murmured a protest beyond her ability to see. Oh God, she needed to see. She pressed her palms into her skull. “Get out of my head.”
She felt the presence start, felt it gather as if for battle. She stabbed at it with something, she hoped it was negative energy, and she hoped it hurt. The effect she was hoping for didn’t materialize. The light stayed as bright as ever.
She was lost. She didn’t know what she should do, what she could do. Everywhere around her was disaster, and in her mind there was only white light and confusion.
The door continued to open, the hinges continued to protest as she struggled with her breathing, trying to quiet the rasping breaths, battling the adrenaline surging in her system, which increased the beat of her heart, the rhythm of her breath. Betraying sounds she couldn’t afford to emit. The door hit her toes, and she quickly crawled back, staying a fraction ahead of it until her heels tucked against her hips. The door kept coming. She tucked herself into a ball, but eventually there was no place left to go.
The door hit resistance. The person on the other side pushed harder. Her knees collided with her chest. She stopped breathing altogether. The odors of blood, wet fur, sweat, and violence slipped into the stale passage, crippling the hope within. Until a split second later, another scent wafted over the stench of battle. This scent she recognized.
Caleb?
She still couldn’t see. The light consumed her mind, the masculine presence taking over her brain, manipulating neurons she didn’t know she had, working to ready her. For what? This time she said it out loud, “Caleb?”
“Allie girl?” No one said her name with just that combination of reprimand, softness, and emotion. No one but Caleb.
Oh God, it was Caleb.
She launched herself in the direction of his voice, trusting him to catch her. Hard hands locked around her waist, pulling her into the familiar solidity of his chest. The tattered edges of his shirt scraped her cheek. Smears of blood eased the glide of her hands around his neck, but she didn’t care. He was alive. Alive and holding her. The presence in her head stopped its probing. Foreign satisfaction gilded her joy. A sting of light demanded her attention, and then five words flashed across her mind’s eye in mental bold print.
Tell him he’s not alone.
As if that opportunity was all the man had been waiting for, the light vanished and her reality once again consisted only of corridor, the only light breaking the darkness that came from the open door, and the only thing she could see was Caleb frowning down at her.
His hand behind her head was a relief, his thumb under her chin giving her the support she dearly needed. “Are you all right?”
She didn’t get a chance to answer before his hands were all over her, one under her hips slowly working her back to where he needed her, pressing her against him. His thoughts bled into hers. She felt his need to hold her, mark her, claim her as his.
Her need was no less urgent. She locked her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. She couldn’t get close enough to obliterate the fear of losing him.
Images of the battles he’d just fought flashed from him to her. She clung tighter. She’d come so close to losing him so many times tonight and there was nothing on this Earth scarier than that. In the short time they’d been together, he’d become everything to her. The sun, the moon, the stars. Laughter and light. All this from a vampire, supposedly a creature of darkness and night. She cupped his cheeks in her hands. “I thought you were dead.”
“I’m too ornery to die.”
“Too ornery and too arrogant.”
He smiled, dropping his forehead against hers. “Yup.”
More footsteps approached the door and she stiffened. Caleb held her to him. “It’s all right, baby. It’s just friends checking to be sure you’re okay.”
As if to prove him right, Jace asked, “Is she okay?”
Caleb tucked her face into his neck, apparently no more eager to be separated from her than she was to be separated from him. “Cold, tired, and a little startled from all the fuss, but she’s fine.”
“In that case,” Jared said, his voice easily recognizable by its flat timbre, “the leader of the D’Nallys wants to talk to you.”
“Tell the son of a bitch to wait.”
Allie tucked her head under Caleb’s chin, relaxing into the caress he couldn’t seem to end, understanding the pride that kept him from speaking the emotions that put that fine tremor in his hand. She would have liked the words, but she could settle for just knowing he cared. “You can’t call the man who just saved your butt a son of a bitch.”
Caleb’s chin slid across her skull, the point of pressure telling her he was staring at the door. “The man doesn’t look like he objects to being called a son of a bitch.”
“Not in the least.”
The mocking amusement in Ian’s voice brought her head up. He was standing on the other side of the opening, naked as the day he was born, throwing invisible challenges at Caleb who seemed to be picking them up as fast as they were tossed.
“Do you ever wear clothes?”
The firm line of Ian’s mouth softened as he glanced at her. “They get in the way.”
She guessed they would. She laid her head back onto Caleb’s chest, squeezing him around the waist as she gloried in his continued existence. “Thank you.”
“For not wearing clothes?”
“For saving Caleb.”
Caleb’s grip loosened slightly. She could feel his annoyance. “If there is any thanking to be done, I’ll handle it for the Johnsons.”
She waved her hand. “Go right ahead then. I’m finished.”
Instead of the reprimand she expected, the lightest of kisses ruffled her hair. “You still angling for that spanking?”
“I thought we already went over that.”
“Apparently not enough,” Caleb said dryly.
“She does lack respect.”
Allie shot Ian a glare. “Just because I don’t worship at the altar of your dangling bits does not mean I don’t respect what needs respecting.”
Masculine guffaws erupted from the other side of the door. She ignored it, the same way she ignored the were’s amusement.
She tilted her head back to see Caleb’s face. “Are the bad guys dead?”
“They’ve had a change of heart.”
She took that to mean they’d beaten a strategic retreat. “Good.”
The door creaked. Wolves slid into the opening, deadly shadows disappearing one by one down the tunnel. Ian glanced at the silent exodus. “We will be leaving now.”
“You ever need help, give a holler,” Cal
eb said in that steady drawl that backed whatever promise he made with the force of his personality.
Ian nodded. His head lifted, as if listening to a voice only he could hear. “The feud with the Johnsons is suspended.”
Allie had never heard better news. “It’s about time.”
Ian cut her a sharp glance, his golden eyes flaring with light. “Not ended, suspended.”
“And?” There’d better be an otherwise or she’d choke on the hope bursting through her.
“Allie . . .” She ignored Caleb’s warning, not taking her eyes from Ian’s.
His lips quirked. “The ‘and’ is not for discussion with a female.”
Her elbow in Caleb’s gut cut off his chuckle. “That is so backward.”
Ian shrugged. “But our way.”
She had to grab with her thighs as Caleb let go of her hip to hold out his hand. “Watch your back.”
Ian glanced down at her before smiling at Caleb and taking the extended hand in his. “And you watch yours.”
Before she could come up with a retort to the implication she was trouble, Ian changed and was gone in a flow of shadow. The only thing he left behind was the humor of his parting comment.
Jared stepped farther into the corridor. “You know, if he wasn’t so dead set on killing us, I could probably get to like him.”
Caleb stared into the room beyond the door, his jaw set as he viewed the carnage, and then followed the wolves’ progress down the tunnel. “Like it or not, I’m just glad they landed on our side. How many did we lose?”
“Only two, but there are a lot of injuries.” Jared’s gaze followed Caleb’s. “Without the D’Nallys it would have been a lot worse.”
“Yup.” Caleb rested his chin back on her head. “Never did see anyone retreat so fast as those Sanctuary types when they realized the odds had just evened up.”
Jared’s agreement was a twitch of his lips as he touched blood trickling down his chin. “Of course, one of those D’Nallys is worth two of them in a fight, so maybe it wasn’t so much cowardice as brains that had them turning tail.”
Caleb brushed the dirt off her jeans. “Next time it won’t be easy.”
Allie tried not to think of that. “So the D’Nallys know how to clean out a room.”
Jared wiped at his cut lip with his shirtsleeve. “That they do.”
Caleb glanced through the door again. “Too bad they leave such a mess.”
Both men looked at her. Allie shook her head. “Don’t look at me to clean it up. I’m in a delicate way.”
Unbelievably, Jared’s hard eyes softened with humor and, good grief, respect? “I haven’t noticed it slowing you down to date.”
She slumped against Caleb, mustering her most fragile feminine air. “It just kicked in.”
A smile flashed across his stern features. “I bet it did.”
She stroked Caleb’s chest, feeling his joy at the victory, his satisfaction at defending his home. It didn’t seem fair to burst his bubble right now, but he deserved to know.
The sigh as he set her on her feet told her that he knew something was bothering her. She turned in the curve of his arm as he looked down at her. “I’m feeling pretty good right now, Allie girl.”
“I know.”
He pushed her bangs off her face. “Real good. As a matter of fact, I’m thinking there’s a victory cigar and a neat whiskey with my name on it waiting on me in the kitchen.”
She bit her lip. She was really getting tired of the one bringing the bad news. “I know.”
His thumb tugged her lip from between her teeth. “But you’re not going to let me enjoy either, are you?”
“It can wait.” Maybe.
He frowned, his eyes studying her face. And then sighed. “The news won’t get any better for dragging it out.”
She gripped her hands in front of her. “I know, but I just hate always being the bearer of bad news.”
“You haven’t borne anything yet.” Leave it to Slade to point out the logical.
“What are you trying to tell us?”
She met Caleb’s gaze, guilt blending with dread. He didn’t need this. “It’s really good that you’re learning to make friends.”
“Why?”
She squeezed her fingers harder. “Because I don’t think Vincent and company were the only voices in my head.”
25
ALLIE was going to develop a twitch if she didn’t learn to relax.
Caleb took another drag on his cigar, and leaned back in his chair. He still had half a shot of whiskey to enjoy, and as determined as Allie was to hop to the next challenge, he was just as determined to celebrate overcoming today’s. The woman hadn’t been around long enough to know there was always another battle, that the only real peace to be found was in the moments in between, but he had, and the way he saw it, tomorrow was soon enough to deal with preparing for the next Sanctuary attack, to find out who sent the telepathic message that he wasn’t alone, and to square things once and for all with the D’Nallys. But right now there was peace, and he just wanted to enjoy his cigar, his whiskey, and his woman.
The cigar ash hung precariously. Caleb tapped it off in the black onyx ashtray he kept for just such occasions. “You really need to learn to slow down.”
Allie jumped. The pan she was washing clattered on the counter. She cast him one quick, startled glance and then a blush rose on her cheeks. “I’m working on it.”
He smiled around his cigar. Nice to know the woman’s mind was on lovemaking as much as his. “There, too, but I was talking about life in general.”
The pan hit the drying rack with a thunk. She turned, hands on hips, and glared at him. Gold sparks fired off in the depths of her eyes, making them appear even bluer as she stood there in that barely-there red knit dress challenging him. “You did not just tell me you have a gripe about my lovemaking.”
He stubbed the cigar out. He really didn’t like the things, but the one memory he had of his father was of him lighting up a cigar at the end of a good day and sitting on the small porch of their house with his feet propped up, enjoying the satisfaction of a job well done. The scent of cigar smoke still meant contentment to him. The whiskey had been his own addition to the ritual. He picked up the glass. “What if I did?”
With short aggressive jerks, Allie wiped her hands on a blue checked towel. “I think I’d have to kill you.”
He grinned, dropped his chair back to four legs, and grabbed her hand. Two tugs and he had her stiff and unyielding in his lap, that sexy dress riding obligingly up her thighs. He nuzzled his way through her hair until he found the outer curve of her ear. She had very sensitive ears. “You know damn well you burn me up in bed.”
She didn’t soften. “I know your vampire appreciates me there.”
He took the lobe between his teeth, ignoring her swat, and focused on her shiver as he bit down gently. She smelled of lemon dish soap and warm, willing woman. “Aren’t you the one who keeps telling me that me and my vampire are one and the same?”
“Aren’t you the one who keeps telling me they’re not?”
There was a tremor in that flat question that had him pulling back. The view he had of the top of her head didn’t tell him a thing, but the tense way she held her head did. He gathered her hair in his hand, enjoying its silky feel against the roughness of his skin as he tugged it back so he could see her face. The annoyance he expected was there, along with the tension that came from lingering adrenaline, but there was something unexpected, too. An aching vulnerability that squeezed his heart. Damn. “And you’ve chosen now to start taking me at face value?”
She shrugged and looked down at the towel wadded into a bunch in her hands. “It doesn’t matter what I believe.”
Yes, it did. The whole paranormal world knew he was ass over bandbox for the woman, but this woman, his woman, was uncertain as to whether he felt the same way about her as she did about him. How had he managed to screw this up so badly?
H
e hooked his finger under that stubborn chin and lifted. It took more than the usual amount of effort to get her face up. As soon as he got a glimpse of her expression, he knew why. There were times in everyone’s life when they just wanted something too much to even hope it could be. He smoothed his thumb over her lower lip. “Ah, Allie girl, I’m sorry.”
She blinked rapidly and the wobbliest smile he’d ever seen stretched the skin under his fingers. “It’s not like it’s something you can control.”
“No, it’s not.” What he felt for her was wild and uncontrollable. Deep, hot, and permanent. She sniffed and her eyes watered, but all the while she battled tears, that smile firmed up under the sheer force of will she applied to it. One lone drop escaped her control to hover on her lashes. He caught it on his thumb before it could spill. “You want me to go get Ian back here so he can kick my butt from here to Sunday?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m an ass for not telling you how I feel.”
“How you feel, or your vampire feels?”
She was going to beat that dead horse into the ground, he could tell. “When it comes to loving you, it’s one in the same.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
“Obviously, there’s a whole lot I should have said before now.” He sighed and smoothed the tear into her cheek until nothing was left to mark its existence. “In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never held back. You give with every bit of emotion in you—”
“I’ve always been a bit impulsive.”
The little squirm that punctuated that statement was a clear indicator of how uncomfortable with that part of her personality she was. She had nothing to worry about. He pushed the bangs off her face. “I’ve developed a real taste for impulsive.”
Her eyebrows rose, but a little of that anxiety left her expression and no new tears got in line behind the first. He took the towel out of her hand and dropped it on the floor. He lifted her up. “Put your legs over mine.”
Caleb Page 36