Jared (3 page)

Vampire law was totally archaic and chauvinistic, and
didn’t appeal to her in the least, but that line of argument wasn’t going to
get her any further than tugging on her hand had. “My need for aid has passed.”
She shooed him along with a wave of her fingers. “You can go about your business
without having to worry about me.”

“Well, Miss . . . ?”

The arch of his brow was not only a prompt, it was as
sexy as all get out. Why did she have to meet this man here? Now?

“Slovenski. Raisa Slovenski.”

That brow twitched again. Her name and her accent
always marked her as a foreigner to this land. “Well, Raisa, the way I look at
it we’ll have plenty of time to discuss the beginnings and endings of my
obligations as soon as I get you to a safe place.”

“But—”

“No buts. About all you have to decide is whether you
want to run”—he held out his hand—“or be carried.”

She wrapped her arm around her ribs where she still
felt the bruise of his last carry. Some choice. Take the pain from his carry or
the pain from the exhaustion. In the end her dignity made the decision for her.
She placed her palm in his, a tiny trill of pleasure at the contact spiking
through her energy as she did. “I’ll run.”

But she was definitely discussing the endings of his
obligations later.

IT was almost sunrise before Jared found a safe cave
on the back edge of D’Nally territory. For himself, he wouldn’t worry so much
about where he spent the day, but he had Raisa with him, and that meant extra
precautions. There were too few women of their kind, and what the Sanctuary did
to them was too horrible to risk her in any way. Not many women, even immortal
ones, survived the genetic manipulations nor the repeated rapes the Sanctuary
put them through in their pursuit of their master race. And even if a woman
survived physically, her mind was pretty much shot.

Jared had encountered women in his mortal days who had
been worked over by men, and while he’d managed to distance himself from his
emotions long enough to get them home, he couldn’t seem to achieve the same
with the women the Sanctuary tortured. Couldn’t block their energy, couldn’t
get past the “if onlys” that might have come together in such a way that he
could have saved them. Which is why he did as few of those rescue missions as
possible.

He glanced over at the woman. She was sitting on the
ground, her back against a boulder near the wall, head down, fishing through
her pack. As far as anyone knew, all the women had been gathered up by one side
or another in the last year. Stragglers occurred, but they were few and far
between, most of them protected by strong families or their men. She pulled a
brush out of the pack. She was a very pretty straggler to be all alone.

“What happened to your people?”

Raisa paused with the brush halfway through her long
hair. The strands glowed like sunlight against the black of her turtleneck. His
fingers twitched as the highlights rippled with the brush strokes, like
sunlight dancing on water. He bet her hair would be silky to the touch, soft
against his skin.

“I don’t have any.”

“You’re alone?” He couldn’t conceive of it.

She shrugged and resumed brushing. “For now.”

Something primitive surged inside him and every muscle
pulled taut at the implication that she might be looking for a protector. He
leaned against the cave wall. “Well, for now, you can consider yourself with
me.”

She stopped brushing, took a breath, and held it a
second before releasing it. Her lips shaped silent words in a measured pace.
She was counting, he realized. To ten, from the way her lips parted on the last
word, revealing the pearly white of her teeth and the barest hint of fang.

“I’m glad you brought that up.”

He’d say she was about as far from glad as a woman
could get.

“I’ll be leaving come nightfall.”

Not likely. “To where?”

She licked her lips, a nervous habit he bet she’d quit
if she knew how much it gave away.

“My destination.”

It was the weakest hedge he’d ever heard. “You don’t
lie much, do you?”

A blink that was as revealing as the licking of her
lips prefaced her “What makes you say that?”

He adjusted his position against the wall, amusement
taking the stress off his weariness. She had a very expressive face. “The fact
that you telegraph every lie before you say it.”

“Well, fiddle.”

Fiddle? “So, just where do you plan on heading
tomorrow?” She didn’t answer immediately, probably because she couldn’t come up
with an answer over the chaotic panic of her energy. He sighed. “If you’re
working on another lie, you might as well give it up.”

Her face wasn’t the only expressive thing about her.
Her big brown eyes met his, delivering a punch he felt in his gut. The woman
didn’t have a clue where she was going or what she was going to do.

She paused, the brush held just above her shoulder in
an unconsciously feminine pose that thrust the delicate curve of her breast
against the front of her turtleneck. Normally he leaned toward full-figured
women, but there was something about Raisa that honed his attention to a razor
edge, whet his appetite, made him want to cup those small breasts in his hands
while at the same time sending all sorts of protective, possessive urges into a
mad gallop.

She cut him a glare from under the thickness of her
lashes. Even that glare, laden with self-directed anger, sent a whisper of
pleasure along his energy.

“I take it from that glare we’re done arguing the
subject?”

She resumed brushing her hair. “I am.”

“Good, then I’m going to get things ready for sleep.”

She didn’t say a word as he headed toward the back of
the cave, but her energy trailed him in a seductive lure, tempting him to turn
around, to answer the challenge she presented. To claim her. If he thought she
had any idea of what she was projecting, he would head back to where she was
sitting and teach her everything she needed to know about him. Jared sighed. He
didn’t think Raisa was even aware of how often her mind touched his, let alone
how her energy liked to slide between the soft edges of his in an unconsciously
soothing gesture. Dammit to hell.

With a wave of his hand he removed the illusion of a
wall. The safe place was exactly as he had left it. Small, secure, and well out
of the way of the sun, it was the perfect place for a man to hide until things
were safe. Unfortunately, it was really meant for one person, and even as small
as Raisa was, it was going to be a tight fit getting them both in there. He
smiled inwardly, imagining just how tight a fit it was going to be. She was
bound to kick up a fuss.

He glanced back around the corner. Raisa was still
brushing her hair, the long strands pulled over her shoulder in a honey-colored
spill, looking as sweet as the candy he remembered. A snarl snagged the
bristles. She frowned and yanked at the knot. His fingers curled around the
urge to remove the brush from her hand and take over the job. Hair like hers
would require a lot of maintenance. Thick and curly, it probably snarled a lot.
She yanked at the brush again. The woman didn’t have the patience a husband
would have for the job.

He reentered the main cavern. He didn’t need to look
at the sky beyond the entrance to know that dawn was coming. He could feel it
in his bones. He gathered up his gun. Raisa didn’t look up until he got to her
side even though she had to know he was there. “It’s time to rest.”

The brush slowed. Her eyebrow arched. “With the
Sanctuary on our heels?”

“Unless you can walk in sunlight, I don’t see a
choice.”

She looked first at him and then toward the back of
the cave. Her lips pursed. “I can stand guard.”

“There’s no need.”

If someone disturbed the alarms he’d set around the
cave perimeter, he’d waken.

She put her brush in the bag and flipped her hair back
over her shoulder as she stood. She was dressed entirely in black, which gave
her the illusion of blending into the darkness of the wall behind her.

“You’re that fond of surprises interrupting your sleep?”

He took her inventory from head to toe, starting with
the thick mass of her hair, down over her slender shoulders and her compact
little body, to her slim thighs and small feet encased in black boots. She was
the kind of woman who made a man think in terms of protecting and claiming. He
brought his gaze back to hers. “Sometimes.”

The roll of her eyes made him smile. “Get over
yourself.”

She grabbed her backpack and looked around. “So, where
are we hiding out?”

He motioned to the back. “Around the corner.”

With an easy sidestep, she scooted around him and
headed toward the cavern. The cave wasn’t that big. It didn’t take her long to
get there, just five steps, but for him they were well worth focusing on. The
woman had a way of walking that was saucy and inviting, yet completely in
control. She was definitely a woman comfortable in her own skin. His interest
deepened.

As soon as he drew up alongside, she cocked her head
toward the interior. “That’s it?”

“Yup.”

“We aren’t both going to fit in there.”

He didn’t miss the emphasis that she put on the word
we. “It’ll be tight.”

“Uh-huh. I’d say more like obscene.”

Again that foreign urge to smile twitched the corner
of his lips. “Necessity doesn’t allow for modesty.”

“Neither does lechery.”

“Lechery?” He chuckled and leaned his rifle inside the
opening before reaching for the strap of her pack. “It’s been a long time since
I heard a word like that.”

She clamped her hand down on her bag. “It’s been a
long time since I’ve had an opportunity to use it.”

“Now that . . .” Her muscles were no match for his.
The bag came off her shoulder. He tossed it to the head of the small cavern. “I
find very hard to believe.”

“Believe it.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “I
think we need to go back to plan A. You rest in your cozy little cavern, and
I’ll stay out here and keep watch for trouble.”

With her hair off her face, he could easily see the
blue smudges under her eyes and the lines of strain beside her mouth, along
with an unnatural pallor to her skin. He was not leaving her anywhere.

“You’re not well.”

“I’m fine.”

“When was the last time you fed?”

“Yesterday.”

He tipped her chin up. “I won’t tolerate you lying to
me.”

She didn’t give an inch, just matched him stare for
stare. “Your tolerance is not my concern.”

The primitive something stirred again. He squeezed her
chin between his fingers, having difficulty keeping the growl out of his tone.
“It is now.”

“Why?”

“Until someone takes the responsibility from me,
you’re mine.”

Her fingers wrapped around his wrist. Her big brown
eyes still didn’t flinch from his. He felt the prick of her talons. A tiny
feminine threat that put a spark under that primitive emotion swirling and
hovering. “Then you’re just going to have to adjust your truth meter or suck it
up.”

The sting of her talons blended with the hot arousal
that surged through him at her challenge. “You fed yesterday?”

“I already answered that question.”

He stared into her eyes and probed into her mind. He
found an image of a middle-aged man in hunting camouflage, and then her mind
snapped closed.

He ran his finger over her full lower lip. “So you
did. How often do you need to feed?”

If she needed to feed often, it was going to
complicate things. He had a mission to complete and a limited amount of time to
do it.

“It depends.”

“On what?”

She yanked her chin out of his hand before ducking
back into the cavern. Bending over to grab her backpack, she presented him with
another view of her body, one he deeply appreciated. She turned back around.
She noticed the direction of his gaze. The twist of her lips was wry. “On none
of your business.”

He stepped into the chamber, crowding her back as he
sealed it off with a manipulation of energy and light. “And I already told you,
everything about you is now my business.”

She glanced under his arm and licked her lips.
Evidently, she was just beginning to believe he meant it. He motioned to the
floor.

“Lie down.”

She took half a step back into the wall. “I don’t
think so.”

He broke her death grip on the pack, settling it
beside them. “Relax. I don’t have the patience to wrestle with you, right now.
I need my rest.”

The glance she sent him was pure skepticism. “I can
see you’re in danger of collapse.”

While he might not be, she was. “Appearances can be
deceiving.”

She didn’t look relieved. He tested the edges of her
mind. It was closed. Her glare let him know she knew what he was doing as she
said, “You’re going to have to convince me of your exhaustion the old-fashioned
way.”