Caleb (39 page)

“You
realize of course, it’s now imperative that I don’t?”

Again
that little pinch on her thigh that somehow translated into the most intimate
of hugs. “Do it.”

That
pinch was her undoing. She climbed up beside him. As each inch of her body
blended into the hollows of his, all the horrifying changes in her life flashed
before her. As each fragmented image surged forward, layering one over the
other in a ruthless collage in her mind, her grasp on her composure slipped.

“Caleb?”

“What?”

“How
much less will you think of me if I totally lose it?”

“Right
now?”

She
shook her head, burying her face in the hollow of his throat. “No. Not now.”

The
hunger roared with Caleb’s scent. Her own private dinner bell. The pain raged
through the barriers she’d built, swelling with the beat of her heart, the
pounding of memories of her life. Her family. Of what had happened to them all.
Even if she and Caleb got out of this, it was never going to be the same. Allie
blinked back tears. Her emotions didn’t care one bit that now was absolutely
not the right time to crumble. Her control just methodically fell apart, one
piece after another tumbling out of her reach into the black pit waiting below.
“Maybe in about five seconds?”

“Shit.”

His
big body tensed and heaved, the powerful muscles flexing beneath her as he
fought the bonds. She stroked his chest, trying to quiet him, opening her palm
over his heart when he finally lay still, taking the rhythm of the beat and the
reality of what he was into her.

Power
and temptation. Promise and doom. Heaven and hell. He was all those things to
her and more. And Vincent thought to use him, to hurt him, for a cause only he
understood. Her tears dried. No way in hell was she allowing that. She looked
up to find Caleb staring back at her, a frown on his face and worry in his
eyes.

“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.