Jared (40 page)

“You actually can a little, but Caleb has cut me off
coffee, saying it’s not good for the baby.”

“Then maybe I shouldn’t make any.”

“Hey, we females have to stick together. Besides, the
mound is craving the stuff.” She pulled the saddest face Raisa had ever seen.
“You wouldn’t deny a growing mound what it craves, would you?”

“Well, considering I’ve never made coffee, denial
might be the best course of action.”

Allie struggled on the couch. “Good grief, that won’t
do. This might be the last cup I get before the baby’s born.”

Raisa watched her battle with the cushion for a few
seconds. Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore. “May I help?”

Without an ounce of pride, Allie held out her hand.
“Heck, yes!”

Raisa hauled her up. Allie hit her feet with a smile.
“Caleb was right, you’ve got a soft heart.”

“More like a soft head,” Raisa muttered, grabbing a
blue T-shirt and pulling it over her head before following Allie into the
kitchen.

“I heard that,” Allie called over her shoulder as she
started opening cupboard doors. “There has got to be coffee here somewhere.”

Raisa opened the fridge. “What makes you so sure?”

“The McClarens drink it like it’s water, and they’re
the ones who normally have guests here.”

Raisa didn’t see any coffee in the fridge, but as soon
as she opened the freezer door, she hit pay dirt. “Got it!”

For a woman who had a distinct waddle, Allie closed
the distance between them in the blink of an eye. She grabbed the bag from
Raisa’s hand and glanced at the brand. “Ah, the good stuff.”

Personally, Raisa didn’t know how anyone could think
of coffee as good, but as long as Allie was happy, she was fine.

Allie made quick work of prepping the coffee, the only
interruption in her moves the moment she opened the bag and breathed deeply.
“Oh, that’s good.”

“Will it satisfy the mound?”

“Definitely.” Another grin, and Raisa could see why
the serious, too-handsome Caleb had fallen in love with Allie. There was a
light about Allie, a perpetual willingness to laugh combined with a deep
intelligence that was very attractive.

Allie glanced over her shoulder from where she was
measuring out beans into the coffeemaker. “You’re wondering what Caleb saw in
me, aren’t you?”

There wasn’t a trace of offense in her voice.
“Actually, it’s the other way around.”

“You’re kidding, right?” She looked over her shoulder
again. “Did you, by any chance, miss the width of those shoulders or not catch
a gander at that tight butt?”

There was no good way to answer that. “I was a bit
distracted by other things at the time.”

Like having a pair of wolves sicced on her.

Allie poured water into the chamber, put the carafe
back underneath, and pushed the button with a flourish. The beans ground with a
raucous noise. Raisa wanted to cover her ears. Allie patted the black plastic
sides of the coffeemaker lovingly, almost hugging it as she made shushing
noises. “Shh, baby. We don’t want Caleb to hear, do we?”

Raisa glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen
door. “His hearing is that good?”

“Either that or he’s got me bugged. But I swear”—she
turned away from the machine and braced her hands against the counter—“every
time I get near a whiff of caffeine, he pops up and wrecks my day.”

She remembered Caleb, his brilliant green eyes so cold
and hard as he watched her, his suspicion and anger enveloping her.

“What does he do when he catches you?” If he hurt
Allie, she’d have to do . . . something.

Allie rolled her eyes and groaned. “He lectures me.
For a man for whom I once had to imprison”—she cupped her palms in front of her
chest—“the girls in a Wonderbra just to get him to talk to me, he can really
get on a tear.”

“Caleb was shy?” That she couldn’t picture.

Allie shook her head. “Playing hard to get. He thought
I’d have some sort of prejudice against vampires.”

The way she had of wording things made Raisa smile.

“And didn’t you?”

Most humans would, if given a choice.

Allie raised her eyebrows, her blue eyes alight with
humor. She gestured with her hand. “I repeat, did you get a glimpse of those
shoulders and that tight butt?”

Raisa couldn’t suppress her chuckle. She could really
get to liking Allie.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Allie shook her head and pushed her bangs out of her
eyes. “Truthfully? By the time I realized he was a vampire, he either had to
convert me or watch me die.” She cut Raisa a glance from under her lashes as
she checked on the coffee. “Caleb’s not good at watching those he loves die.”

Was that a warning? “I don’t plan on harming him.”

Allie shifted her weight against the counter, bracing
herself on her elbows. “Well, hell. I’m just not very good at this subterfuge
crap.”

Everything inside Raisa went very still as alarm
flared through her. “Subterfuge?”

“In case you missed it, that was an attempt to lead
into the subject that I know you’re the vampire who converted Caleb.”

Oh God, this was bad. Raisa licked her lips, keeping
the panic in check through sheer force of will. “Fudge.”

“Fudge? Good God, woman, let go. That kind of
announcement is worth a shit or a damn, at least.”

Raisa pulled out a chair as the ramifications swept
over her. “I’m not really good at swearing.” Feeling like all the hope she’d
harbored for someone special for her was shattering in one fell swoop, she
asked, “Are you going to tell Jared?”

“Of course not. Caleb and I both agreed that was
between the two of you.”

Raisa watched her knuckles turn white as she gripped
the back of the chair harder and harder in an effort to keep her emotions under
control. “What do you want in exchange?”

It always came down to this, someone wanting something
from her.

“Well, Caleb doesn’t want anything, and he totally
understands if you never tell Jared.” She waved her hand. “In case you haven’t
noticed, the man is completely irrational on the subject.”

“And you?” Raisa forced the words from her throat.
“How do you feel about it?”

Allie poured herself a cup of coffee and came over to
the table. With a calm Raisa couldn’t imitate in a thousand years, Allie pulled
out a chair and sat down. Her gaze, when it met Raisa’s, was completely devoid
of humor. “I think if I had come across Caleb dying, heard his anguish and
worry at leaving his brothers, I would have given him his wish in a heartbeat.”

“How did you know?”

“That he was consumed with worry about leaving his
brothers?”

“Yes.”

“I know my husband, and I know his willingness to
sacrifice himself for his brothers. Heck, for anyone he loves. And I imagine
his desperation to stay with them was pretty much overwhelming.”

As the old pain and guilt rose, Raisa fought to
suppress the anguish that swamped her as thoroughly as it had that day. “It
was.”

Allie took one look at her face and motioned to the
chair she was holding. “Sit down before you fall down.”

Raisa blinked, realizing her legs were shaking. She
sat. She’d never talked about what she’d done that night. She grabbed a napkin
off the middle of the table because it gave her something to do with her hands.
She started shredding in the corner, feeling like she was tearing off pieces of
her soul as she worked inward. “I just wanted his pain to stop, he was hurting
so.” She smiled wryly, catching Allie’s eye. “He thought I was an angel at
first.”

“He told me that.”

“I didn’t know how to tell him who I really was, what
I was. I just wanted to help him, but I was so sick myself, I didn’t even know
if I could do anything, but I had to try.”

“And you succeeded.”

She nodded, remembering every horrible agonizing
detail. “His blood made me so sick, I almost couldn’t complete the act.”

Allie’s brows arched up. “His blood made you sick?”

“Every kind of blood except Jared’s does, apparently.”

“How long have you been a vampire?”

“About two hundred seventy years.”

“That’s a long time to be starving.”

“Yes.” An eternity.

“I have the same problem now that I’m pregnant.”

Raisa glanced up. “I’m not pregnant.”

Allie smiled. “And I bet that little idiosyncrasy is
just fascinating Slade to no end.”

“It seems to be.” Which she actually didn’t think was
a good thing. Allie seemed to have forgotten about her coffee, twirling the mug
in her hands, staring into the black brew as if the secrets of the universe
shimmered in the depths. When she looked up, she was completely serious. “I
know exactly how it feels to take in incompatible blood, the incomprehensible
agony, so I want you to know how eternally grateful I’ll always be that you
made that sacrifice for my husband. It’s a debt neither of us will ever forget.”

Raisa didn’t want any lies between them. “I wasn’t
noble, just weak. I couldn’t walk away from his pain.”

“Did you ever think you weren’t supposed to? That
maybe you were supposed to be in that spot at that time with that choice to
make?”

“No.”

“Well.” Allie raised her cup to her lips. “Maybe you
should.”

“My wife is a great believer in fate and destiny.”

Allie sighed. “Told you he had radar.”

Raisa turned to the kitchen door. Caleb stood there,
filling the opening with his broad shoulders and the sheer magnetism of his
presence. Behind him stood Jared. She didn’t even want to know what that meant.
She grabbed the edge of the table, her survival instincts screaming for her to
run.

“Don’t, Raisa.” That growl was Jared’s. She obeyed
simply because there was no place to go that he wouldn’t catch her.

“And don’t you take a sip of that coffee, Allie girl.
You made me a promise.”

She arched her brows at Caleb, not one wit upset at
his tone. “And that promise was to not drink coffee when you weren’t in the room.”

“I’m still not in the room.”

Jared gave him a shove, pushing him into the room and
out of his way. “Now you are.” As he strode past Caleb, Allie took a sip,
sighing in exaggerated bliss as she swallowed.

“Dammit, Allie.”

Raisa didn’t look at Jared as he came closer. The heat
of his energy, the torn shreds of his control, were enough to tell her
everything. He came up beside her. She crumpled the napkin in her hand,
squeezing it hard. “You heard.”

“I didn’t need to. You projected every thought just like
you always do when you’re upset.”

“I’ve really got to get a handle on that.” Was that
her voice sounding so calm and rational when her world had just fallen apart?
Across the table, Caleb removed the coffee cup from his wife’s hand and pulled
her chair back. “C’mon, wife.” He bent and slid his hand behind her back and
under her knees. “Time to go receive your punishment.”

Allie yawned and slid her hands around his neck. “I’m
tired.”

“If you’d stayed in bed where I put you, you wouldn’t
be.” Caleb nodded to Jared and Raisa. “ ’Night all.”

There didn’t seem to be any anger in Caleb’s voice or
handling of his wife; still she had to ask Jared in a low whisper, “Will he
hurt her?”

“No.”

That was good. She plucked at the edge of the napkin
that peeked from the clenched fold of her fist. “Are you going to hurt me?”

At the door Caleb paused.

Jared’s “Good night, Caleb” pushed him through. Raisa
didn’t look up as the door closed. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to see the
hatred on Jared’s face. She’d rather remember him as she’d last seen him,
smiling down at her with amusement and arousal.

He sighed and put a napkin-wrapped bundle on the
table. “We need to talk.”

“Fine.” She tore off a piece of napkin and dropped it
on the table and then fished for another. His hand covered hers. Emotion poured
over her with the contact—anger, frustration, old hatred, new confusion. “Look
at me.”

She pulled her hand free. “I’d rather not.”

He motioned to the napkin wrapped bundle that smelled
of cinnamon on the table by her hand. “I brought you a cinnamon roll.”

“Thank you.”

“Dammit, Raisa.”

“There’s no need to swear.”

“There’s every need. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She gave him the truth. “I was in no hurry to see you
hate me.”

“Raisa.” His fingertips skimmed her head. She
flinched. He swore again. He didn’t remove his hand. “I don’t hate you.”

He didn’t love her, either, which just left her in
some half-life zone where he needed her and tolerated her while she . . . she
just wanted so much more.