Sarah McCarty (17 page)

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Authors: Slade

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: Sarah McCarty
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“You want me to go on?”
“Yes.” She needed to know what she was dealing with.
“Allie got pregnant and that opened a whole world of possibilities to the vampires.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Wolves are unified through their families and traditions. Strike at one of them and there’s a world of hurt coming your way. Vampires are more apt to fight among themselves than get along. Their alliances are short term and they tend to self-destruct. Strike at one of them, there may or may not be a response, and you can never be sure who’s working for whom.”
“But the wolves’ alliances hold up.”
“Wolves stick by family. No matter what.”
Just like the Johnson brothers. “No wonder you felt comfortable with them.”
“Yeah. It was a bit of like gravitating toward like.”
“But the vampires want to change the balance of power?”
“Yes. They’ve got a two-prong attack planned. Creating their own families will cover that annoying loyalty issue, and having control of the life from conception will give them an edge for their genetic experimentation.”
She wasn’t so sure about that. Nature had a way of throwing curveballs. “To what end?”
“Vince also believed that, if he manipulated the genetics of the families, he could create his super army.”
“Good grief, will men never stop trying to rule the world and instead concentrate on saving it?”
“Not likely. Human nature being what it is, there’s always going to be someone who wants to take what someone else has. We’re a covetous bunch. Technology just makes it easier to be more creative about how you go about it.”
“I suppose you’re right. It’s still depressing, though.”
“I’ll grant you that.”
The pressure built to stabbing pain. She winced and glanced at the main house behind them. It shone like a beacon with every light in the building on.
“You ready to go back?”
She guessed she was. She took the hand he held out and stood. “Yeah.”
“Good, because Caleb tells me Allie is about to come out of her skin.”
Jane winced. “I didn’t mean to be cruel.”
He squeezed her hand. A tingle went up her arm. “I know. You’ve got your demons and Allie has hers.”
“Mine are dead.” She started walking, heading back the way she’d come. Jane couldn’t shake the feeling that she was walking into failure. A glance back over her shoulder revealed Slade, standing where she’d left him, a tough man making tough decisions in tough times. No matter how she felt about those decisions, she had no doubt he was doing what he thought was right. “What?”
“It just matters that you try.”
She shook her head. “No. That’s not true. You need me to succeed.”
She hoped. The formula worked with various rats with specific food intolerances, allowing them to thrive on food they normally couldn’t eat. but there was no guarantee it would work with humans. Or vampires. Or a mixture of the two. With a shaking hand she pushed her hair out of her face.
“Hope springs eternal.”
“So does failure.”
From one blink to the next, Slade was at her side. “Succeed or don’t succeed, you’ve got nothing to fear.”
“Because you think I’m your mate?” Fat lot of good that would do her when faced with vampire parents’ wrath and grief.
“No.” Slade’s arm came around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. Turning so his big body protected her from the wind, he tipped her face up. His eyes looked as dark as the night beneath the brim his hat. “Because I’ve got your back.”
Somebody had to, she decided, because she’d obviously lost her mind.
 
 
JANE
thought she’d prepared herself for the sight of the baby, but when Slade stopped outside the door to an upstairs room, she knew she hadn’t. She took a steadying breath.
“He’s in there?”
“Yes.”
She reached for the doorknob. Slade’s hand covered hers. “Just a minute.”
“A minute isn’t going to change anything.”
“I disagree. A minute can make things a lot more bearable.”
“What on earth could make a dying baby more bearable?”
“This.”
This
was his fingers sliding behind her head. His other hand curved around her waist, lifting her body up against his. Chest to chest, hip to hip. Heartbeat to heartbeat. His scent surrounded her. His breath caressed her mouth. His gaze locked to hers.
“You’re going to kiss me ...” The realization came out in a soft sigh.
“Yes.”
“Now is not the time for this.”
He leaned in. “Now is the perfect time.”
Maybe he was right, she thought as she linked her hands behind his neck. At the very least, it delayed the inevitable.
He leaned in. She stretched up. He was definitely right. This was a perfect time for this. She could kiss him now while hope bloomed untainted with defeat and have a memory to savor. The way he fitted his mouth to hers let her know he wasn’t an amateur. The way he held her told her that their first kiss mattered to him. Soft and sweet, it was a wonderful beginning to the building heat. His head tilted, her lips parted. Rather than taking her mouth, he tended the budding passion, easing her into it slowly, as if she were more than a means to an end, creating the illusion that she mattered as a woman. As foolish as that notion was—the man was trying to secure her cooperation—she was holding on to it, because she wanted this memory. This moment. When it all went bad, she wanted to remember this first kiss between them and smile.
Parting her lips, Jane discovered Slade tasted as wonderful as he smelled. Clean, masculine, and wild. When his tongue traced her lips, she responded by parting hers wider, inviting him in, welcoming whatever he wanted to do, unable to conceive of doing less, wanting the wildness that he promised. The passion. The loss of self. He was perfect. So perfect.
Someone cleared their throat. She jumped. Slade pulled her closer, not letting her go, continuing the kiss because he either couldn’t stop or didn’t want to. She didn’t care which, just as long as he didn’t take his mouth from hers because nothing would ever be so perfect between them again.
The throat cleared again.
She had to stop. They weren’t alone. But still she couldn’t bring herself to part from Slade.
How does he do this to me?
Placing her palms on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart, she pushed.
Slade sighed and rested his forehead against hers. He breathed out. She breathed in, taking him deeper in a silent intimacy. “Because I want to.”
She didn’t ask if she’d projected or whether he’d stolen the thought. It didn’t really matter right now. It was the answer she wanted to hear. And it would always make her smile.
“I hate to interrupt,” Caleb said, “but Allie’s developing a twitch.”
Again, the touch of guilt. And again, Slade was there with comfort, massaging the muscles of her back as if he understood. Jane pretended he did. Because it made her feel better.
Forcing a smile, she stepped past Caleb. “Well, let’s not keep her waiting any longer.”
The decor of the nursery made entry bittersweet. Walls painted the bright yellow of sunshine rose to mix with the sky blue ceiling peaking through a puffy white haze of clouds. A little soft sculpture of a baby floating on the moon hung just above eye level. Innocence. Hope. All the things a vampire baby would never see. All of what Allie had given up to be with Caleb. Jane hoped the man was worth it.
“Seems kind of silly, huh? Giving a vampire child the impression of sunlight?”
Bringing her gaze down, Jane saw Allie sitting by the window in a rocking chair feeding an infant a bottle. She quickly looked away. “Daylight’s part of who you are. Or used to be. But I agree. Children should know where their parents come from.”
“That’s what Caleb always said.”
Jane cut him a glance. Caleb stood halfway in the room, arms folded across his chest, eyes watchful. “You’re husband’s a smart man.”
And a protective one. Goose bumps chased up her arms. Jane had no doubt he’d kill her if he thought she would hurt Allie or his son. The son she could no longer avoid looking at. Even from where she stood, she could see the telltale gauntness of his cheeks as he nursed from the bottle. Other faces flashed before her mind’s eye. Darker skinned, but no less desperate. Children who needed her. Children she’d promised to help.
Breathe, sweetness.
Slade. In her head again. She wished she knew how to kick him out. She wished she knew how to stop seeing the ghosts of failure.
No chance.
Allie pulled the blanket away from Joseph’s face. Jane forced herself to focus on Joseph, who was sucking on the bottle as if he’d been deprived for a week. “When was the last time he fed?”
“About two hours ago.”
There was a second bottle sitting by the bed. “He’ll eat all that?”
“And then some.”
“And he’ll be hungry again, when?”
“In about two hours.”
It was only routine that made her ask. Slade was not a man to overlook the obvious, and he’d briefed her on the details. “You checked for parasites.”
“First thing.”
That level of consumption was nowhere near normal. Even for a vampire baby, she suspected. A baby eating like that should have plump cheeks and contented smiles. They shouldn’t be wasting away. Jane studied the baby. She could see Johnson influence in his face, but there were also bits of Allie in the shape of his eyes and the fullness of his lips. It did nothing to mitigate the sunken hollows that made him appear a wizened ancient.
“He looks like both of you.”
Allie smiled. “I like to think of him as the best of us.”
Joseph finished the bottle. Allie put him over her shoulder and patted his back. He let out a belch loud enough to shake the walls.
Everyone smiled except Jane. Excessive gas could be a symptom.
Jane held out her hands. “Can I see him?”
“Of course.” Allie pushed to her feet on the next forward rock and placed Joseph on the bed. “He’s such a good baby, aren’t you, sweetheart?” she crooned as she unwrapped the blanket. The look she shot Jane said more than the croon. Allie wanted Jane to know her son was loved before she unwrapped him. She was afraid of Jane’s reaction.
And rightfully so. With every layer of blanket that peeled back, more of the baby’s condition was revealed. He was very far gone. So far gone that it was probably only his vampire genetics that kept him alive.
Because Allie was waiting and her anxiety was such that Jane could feel it, she looked past the starvation to the child he should be and said, “He’s beautiful.”
The lie didn’t reduce the impact of the devastation of what starvation had done to his body. Even if he wasn’t human, the baby didn’t deserve this. Nothing deserved this. But this wasn’t a famine caused by politics. This was Mother Nature in a hissy fit, and as a result, Joseph was a pathetic-looking child, with spindly legs and a bloated abdomen. All classic signs of starvation. She’d seen starvation many times before—the distended stomach, the sunken cheeks, the abject misery, but every new confrontation always hit her like a punch in the gut. Too many times, she’d taken the chance, fought the battle, cried by the grave when she’d lost.
His foot twitched in an aborted kick he didn’t have the strength to make. “How old is he?”
“Three months.”
Three months and he wasn’t even the size of a healthy newborn. Touching her finger to Joseph’s big toe, Jane asked Slade, “Which tests have you run?”
“Everything I could think of. I’ve recorded the results.”
“What did you find?”
“Nothing of which I can make sense.”
“And you think I can?”
“I think what’s on those printouts will make a lot of sense to you.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because of what I’ve seen of your research.”
He hadn’t seen much. She’d made sure of that, which meant he had to be extrapolating.
“What? Hacking my computers didn’t solve all your problems?”
“How long do you intend to hold a grudge about that?”
She tickled the bottom of the boy’s foot. No reaction. A newborn should jerk its foot away, indicating normal brain and nerve response.
“You violated my privacy.” Her inner space where she never let anyone intrude.
“I tapped into your work file. I didn’t rape you.”
It had felt like it when she’d first discovered the intrusion. “Plan on forgiveness taking awhile.”
“Shit.”
Goose bumps raised on the boy’s skin. Allie scooped him up, cuddling him against her breast protectively as Caleb came up behind her. His foot hit the rocker, setting it in motion. It rocked on, empty. Lost hope in a room reflecting sunlight.
Oh, damn.

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