Caleb (13 page)

With
a twist, she broke free of Caleb’s grip. As she stepped around the young man,
he reached for her. The primitive, lusting voice inside her whispered how easy
it would be to end both their pain. How simple it would be to sate the hunger.
The voice grew stronger, the push to bend over and bite violently grew
stronger. Too strong to be natural.

Feed.

She
spun around. The command lingered in her mind. Faint and foreign, like nothing
she’d ever felt before.

Who
said that?

No
answer came from the men around her. They were, however, all watching her with
the same peculiar intensity as before, eyes glowing. Tendrils of invisible
energy reached around her. Very recognizable, individual, and en masse. With a
slash of her hand, she dismissed their influence. “Give it up already.” She
pushed past Jace. She needed to get out of there. “I’m a damn vegetarian. Blood
is not on my diet.”

She
made it to the middle of the hallway before the dark wave of hunger rolled over
her, impossibly forceful in its demand. Real this time, coming from within. A
part of her. And according to Caleb, there to stay. Following the wave of
hunger came the crushing pain. Harder. Longer. Building in intensity rather
than diminishing. She fell back against the wall and closed her eyes. The moan
she couldn’t suppress ripped from her throat. She pressed her hands into her
stomach, sliding down the wall. It didn’t help. According to Caleb, nothing was
going to help. She rode out the pain, panting as she’d seen women do on TV when
they were in labor. As much as this hurt, it couldn’t be worse than that.

“You’re
fighting a losing battle.”

She
didn’t have to open her eyes to recognize Caleb. The sound of his voice, the
whisper of his scent, the feel of his energy were as known to her as her own.
Maybe that whole myth about whoever made a vampire owned that vampire was true,
because she sure felt as if Caleb had stock in her. “So you keep telling me.”

His
knee grazed her arm as he bent down. “Probably because it’s true.”

His
heat enveloped her like a comforting blanket. She had the incredible urge to
turn to him and let him make this all go away. Except, she couldn’t. He was the
enemy. “Go away.”

A cold
wave of nausea swept over her, blending with the pain, making it more than it
was and just slightly less than she could bear.

“I
can’t.”

She
believed him. Whatever bound her to him seemed to bind him, too. Making love
with him had seen to that. At least the orgasm had been worth it. “You could
try harder.”

The
hand he placed on her brow was calloused and warm. She leaned into the stroke
of his thumb. “I don’t want to.”

“I
won’t feed on another human, Caleb.”

“You
don’t have a choice if you want to live.”

She
didn’t answer. The silence stretched, growing heavy with the implication. His
thumb paused mid-stroke, pressed. Tension gathered within him and streamed to
her through his touch. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her with
those golden swirls gathering in his green gaze. Her hunger rose, swelled, and
reasserted itself with the temptation he so beautifully presented. She brought
out the compromise she’d mentioned before. “I could just munch on you.”

The
swirls flared to flames. He definitely liked the idea. “We discussed this. You
need to know how to fend for yourself.”

“I
know how to fend for myself. Knowing isn’t the problem.”

“Now
is the best time to get you around your distaste.”

Because
they felt she wouldn’t be able to help herself, that her instincts would
override her will. The naiveté of that almost made her smile. Almost.

“You
just keep believing that.”

This
time, when the pain came, it wasn’t a roll, it was a spear thrust through her
gut. “Da-amn.”

Swearing
didn’t help. The pain kept going deeper and deeper, riding its own momentum,
burying itself in her abdomen. She knifed her knees into her chest in an effort
to contain it. Caleb’s hand kept her head from slamming into her knees, and she
resented the hell out of it. She needed to control something, and if the best
she could come up with was beating her skull against her knees, he needed to
let her do it.

“Allie
girl—”

“Don’t
say it.” Choppy and weak, the warning lacked the strength she was going for.
Cold flooded through her on the heels of the pain.

His
knees spread and then she was between them, pulled up against the heat of his
body, her shoulder pressing into the hardness of his groin, her cheek to the
firmness of his stomach. “Don’t say what? That you’re hurting yourself for
nothing, that in the end, you’ll feed?”

He
was so warm. So warm when she was so cold inside. Allie wished she had the
courage to tear his clothes from his back. She needed the heat he kept from
her. “I’m not preying on people,” she muttered through chattering teeth.

“It’s
no different than any other species in the food chain. Better even. You don’t
have to kill to live.”

“It’s
not the same to me.”

His
fingers worked the tight muscles of her shoulder.

“In
time you won’t need to feed so often.”

It
was a measure of her desperation that she saw that as a good thing. “How much
time?”

“Months.
Maybe years.”

“You
don’t sound sure.”

“It’s
different for everyone.”

“How
often do
you
feed?”

“Once
every few months.”

That
was a long time between meals, which might explain, along with their use of
illusion, how the Johnson vampires had gone undetected by humans. “When you get
hungry, do you go on binges and tear up the town?”

“No.
With time you gain control.” His fingers moved up the base of her neck as
another bolt of agony shot through her. She bit her knee, forgetting about the
fangs. The metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth. “Baby, how long do you
think I’m going to let this continue?”

Allie
tried to make her expression as serious as his, but the bolt of agony that shot
to her core ruined the effect. His lips thinned at her whimper.

“As
long as I want,” she gasped with the remnant of her breath.

His
thumb brushed her cheek. The molten lights in his eyes gathered as they
pinpointed the smear of blood she could feel on her mouth.

“You’re
wrong. I could force you.”

His
other hand curved around her back and he pulled her up onto her knees and into
his embrace. His scent flooded her senses, his heat reached into her cold
center, and his blood—the sweet rhythm of his blood—drew her forward. Her belly
cramped with devastating precision. Agony and hope. Why were both those
emotions always part of what she felt for him?

“I
don’t think so.” She placed her hand against his chest, maintaining the space
between them. “Because if you could, you would have done it by now.”

She
felt the flinch of muscle that indicated his surprise. “I’m right, aren’t I?
You can’t do a mental whammy to force this.”

“Not
now.”

And
that didn’t please his bossiness at all, she could tell. “Because I’m too
repulsed by the thought.”

“Yes.”

Allie
let him cuddle her then, mainly because the next pain took every bit of
strength from her. Her fangs ached and throbbed.

“The
pain will eventually take the starch out of your conviction.”

Caleb
said that with a weariness that spoke volumes. “How long did you hold out?”

“Long
enough to know you don’t want to travel that path.”

“I
don’t have a choice.” She wouldn’t,
couldn’t
, feed on another human
being.

“As you
said, there’s always a choice.”

She
absolutely hated having her own words thrown back at her. “She could drink from
me.”

The
suggestion came from her left, a voice she vaguely recognized over Caleb’s
snarl.

Allie
looked up, way up, into the face of the blond muscle-bound bully who’d thrown
her into the stall.

“
That
idea has merit.” She’d love to suck the life right out of his high-handed ass.

“No,”
Caleb snapped.

Between
one breath and the next she was shoved back against the wall, her view
narrowing to Caleb’s broad back. She didn’t need to hear the growl to know he
wasn’t happy. The set of his shoulders conveyed that message quite clearly.

“A
were is a good choice for her first feeding. She can’t kill me.”

“And
she’s not going to be fucking you either.”

“I
beg your pardon?” She had absolutely no intention of making love with the blond
moron. Or anyone else. And then what the blond man said sank in. She cringed
back against the wall, grateful for the way Caleb crowded her there.

“You’re
one of
them
,” she gasped, clutching Caleb’s shirt in her fingers. Where
the hell was her gun when she needed it? “How can you have one of those monster
wolves working here?”

“Derek
is not one of the D’Nally weres.”

Werewolves
were werewolves in her book.

“And—”
Pain jackknifed her into his back. His hand immediately came around to steady
her. “This means what to me?” she finished in a barely audible rush, eyes
closed, struggling to manage the rising tide within.

“It
means you can trust him.”

“But
not as a food source?”

“No.”

“He’s
worried you might just develop a taste for wolf.”

Caleb’s
silence was unexpected, until, unbelievably, Derek laughed. The laugh took him
from rugged to handsome so fast it left her staring.

“You
can flash those fangs all you want, Caleb. The choice is hers.”

Allie
looked at Derek’s neck. How could she not? He was tanned and strong and his
pulse throbbed with a heady allure. Healthy. She took a breath, instinct
guiding the search for more clues, recoiling instinctively from the knowledge
that a hint of how he would taste was encased in his scent. Too late. The
knowledge lodged deep within her subconscious. Again the savage wave of lust
rose, both physical and sexual, so entwined there was no separating them. Dear
God, what was she turning into?

“I’m
sorry, but—Ah!”
Oh God, it hurt so bad!
“As prettily as you made the
invitation, you’re not my type.”

Her
rejection only instigated a lift of his brows.

“Do
you have a type in mind? There are several weres who would be willing to aid
the brothers.”

Allie
rubbed her head against Caleb’s back. “Jesus, you make it sound like a scene
from
The Godfather
.”

Caleb
reached behind and caught her hand with his. She didn’t have the strength to
fight him as he drew it around his waist and pulled her into the solid strength
of his back. Some of the pain faded, but not the hunger.

“There
is a similarity in that we have a cooperative relationship.”

“You
might want to clue fang and company out there that vamps and werewolves can
live in peace.”

“They
wouldn’t listen.”

“Why
not?”

“It’s
a long story.”

“I
thought part of the perk of this vampire thing was that I wouldn’t be short on
time.”

Against
her cheek, Caleb’s breath was erratic. She could only think of one reason. The
pain she should be feeling was being redirected to him. “You can’t shield me
forever.”

“I
can do whatever I want.”

“Then,
want to explain?”

He
grunted and then offered, “Weres are born. Vampires are made. The differences
have caused issues over the years.”

“Not
for you and Derek.”

“The
McClarens are different.”

Derek
folded his arms across his chest. “Actually it’s the Johnsons who are
different.”

The
pain squeezed her entrails in a vise. “How so?”

The
question was a high-pitched squeak.

“They
think more like werewolves than vampires.”

She
cataloged the information for later.

Derek’s
icy gray eyes narrowed as they studied her expression. She had a feeling he saw
everything she wanted hidden. “I was serious about the offer. I owe Caleb. It
would be a pleasure to provide for your needs.”

Again
that surge of interest in his blood, followed immediately by revulsion. “No
thank you.”

“Too
bad. I would have enjoyed your bite.”

Caleb
snarled and the rumble vibrated up her back. “You’re pushing our friendship,
Derek.”

Derek
cocked an eyebrow. “You have a mate. You can afford to be generous.”

“And
yet, I find myself feeling possessive instead.”