Caleb (5 page)

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.”

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 getting 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.