Jared (41 page)

“I’ll leave as soon as it gets dark.”

“What about Miri?”

She closed her eyes and took a breath. “I’ll think of
something.”

“You already have. It’s Renegade business now.”

Just like fate had made her his. The problem was, even
though Jared would honor both responsibilities, he hadn’t wanted either and
that just made her, at least, a burden.

She blinked rapidly. “I relieve you of the
responsibility.”

His hand grew heavier. “It’s not that easy.”

“It’s not that hard.”

“Sunbeam, look at me.”

The napkin was all gone, the last piece too small to
shred. She pinched it between her fingers. “Don’t call me that.”

She’d built such stupid dreams around that nickname,
made it into so much more than the casual, meaningless endearment it was. His
fingers sank into her hair, the tiny stings from the pressure of his grip found
an echo in the pain bursting free inside her. “I’ll call you whatever the heck
I want.”

“You won’t call me that.”

“You’re mine.”

The tug at her nape was an order. She ignored it. “Not
in any way that matters.”

His growl rumbled over her head, a warning of the
storm to come if she kept pushing him. She didn’t care. “Growl all you want. It
doesn’t change anything.”

“Who the hell said I want anything to change?”

She slapped at his hand as he tugged her head back.
“You want me to be everything other than what I am. Stronger, funnier,
tougher.”

“I want who you are.”

“Bull feathers.” It irritated her even more that she
hadn’t used a curse word. Jared’s grip didn’t relax and neither did the demand.
Well, she wasn’t looking at him right now. Not when she had stupid tears in her
eyes that would just make her appear even more pathetic. She grabbed his wrist,
curling her fingers so her talons dug into the inside. The scent of his blood
spiced the conflict between them. “And you’d really prefer I be anyone other
than the cold . . . bitch who converted your brother.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t come out right when you
swear.” His fingers curled under her chin. “Look at me.”

She shook her head and yanked on his wrist. She should
have known the battle was useless. Jared had tons more muscle that she, and he
wasn’t above using it when he wanted something. In the end Raisa didn’t have
any choice but to look at him. Jared pulled her chair back as she raised her
face. His eyes were a turbulent green, his mouth a hard line that creased at
the corners as he took in her expression. He touched the moisture gathered at
the corner of her eye.

“Ah, hell. Come here.”

And then he was lifting her out of the chair, into his
arms, his gaze locked to hers, no answer in his expression as to how he felt,
what he wanted, just the inexorable draw of her body to his. For an instant she
stood against him, her toes barely touching the ground, the majority of her
weight suspended on his forearm placed in the middle of her back. The softness
of her breasts pressed onto his upper abdomen, and then he lifted her higher,
drawing her into the flames of his eyes, into those stupid what-might-have-beens
that she couldn’t get out of her head. He pulled her head farther back as his
mouth lowered. She braced herself for the force of his kiss, for the taint of
anger to poison all that had come before.

Nothing could have prepared her for the utter
gentleness with which his mouth plied hers, the tenderness that infused the
next brush of his lips against the corner, lingering on the emotion that
quivered there. The understanding edged with impatience that absorbed the
emotion pouring from her in a wave she couldn’t control.

A sob heralded the break in her resolve. Jared took
that, too, along with her weight, lifting her completely into his embrace,
taking full responsibility for supporting her, comforting her. Oh God, he was
comforting her. Raisa wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his
waist, and pulled herself harder against him. Surely that meant something. The
plea came from the deepest corner of her soul.

Don’t hate me. Don’t hate me. “Please don’t hate me.”

The last sighed into his mouth. On a groan, he ended
the kiss. His cheek slid against hers in a sensual brush of hope as he pressed
her face into the side of his neck. “I could never hate you, sunbeam,” he
murmured, the tendrils of his breath softening the roughness of the declaration.

“Then what do you feel?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not hate.”

Which was a far cry from love. “I turned your
brother.”

Jared sighed. “Which just goes to show how reality can
shatter a really good focus for a man’s anger.”

When his grip on her back loosened, Raisa clutched his
neck and held on for all she was worth. “Just say whatever it is you have to
say.”

“I’d like to look at you while I do it.”

“I wouldn’t.”

And as long as Jared didn’t force her arms from around
his neck, he wasn’t getting his way. For a heartbeat she worried he planned to
do just that. His intent was there in the stillness of his body and the tension
creeping into his muscles, but then he took a step back, his shoulders hitting
the wall as he braced himself. Just holding her, letting her do this her way.
“What are you worried about, Raisa?”

That you’ll look into my face, and the hatred you’ve
nursed for two hundred fifty years will ruin all your good intentions.
“Nothing.”

“Right, nothing.”

Something disturbed the hair at the top of her head. A
kiss? “Would it help if I told you that I’ve gotten to know you quite well the
last few days? And that I can hardly see a woman who frets about the degree of
perceived cruelty I apply in killing a man coldbloodedly converting a man
against his will?”

“It would have been cruel to make them watch.”

His puff of laughter parted her hair. “That just makes
my point. You’ve a soft heart, Rai. Soft enough that I can see you converting a
man because of it.”

“You’re not mad?”

“I had been working on not being mad on that point
long before you came into my life. I just wasn’t ready to give up on it.”

She licked her lips, her tongue grazing the warm skin
of his neck. His taste infiltrated her mouth. “And now you are?”

“When I have to choose between keeping you or holding
on to an irrational anger, it’s not hard at all.”

“It can’t be that easy.”

“I won’t let it be that hard.”

Heavens, she hoped that was true, that he wouldn’t
hate her tomorrow. Memories she couldn’t suppress swept over her. She turned
her face into his neck, taking strength from his scent. “He was so cold, Jared.
So cold and in so much pain. I wasn’t going to stop. I swear I wasn’t. I just
wanted to get out of the wind before the pain got too bad, but he kept swearing
at God and the Devil. Bargaining with both for help. He was lying there in the
middle of the prairie, in agony, the last of his blood leaving him, and all he
could think about was you and your brothers and how someone had to warn you
about the friend who was going to kill you.”

“Damn!”

“I was really sick myself, and I didn’t even know if I
could help him. I just . . .” She shrugged.

He finished for her. “You had to try.”

“Yes.”

“The same way I would have.”

That brought her head up. He didn’t flinch from her
surprise. “It came to me on the way over here, that if it had been you out on
that prairie, in agony, and converting you would save you, I would have done it
in a heartbeat.”

“No, you would have held my hand, but you wouldn’t
have—”

He cut her off, his drawl a flat statement of fact. “I
would have converted you whether you wanted it or not.”

“Why?”

“Because it would have balanced the scales, made
things fair.” He cupped her head in his hand as she leaned back, supporting her
as her legs slid down his thighs. His energy enfolded her along with his arms.
“But mostly, because I couldn’t have borne your pain.”

She let that soak in along with his body heat. Beneath
her cheek, his heart beat slowly, steadily. He was always so warm. “I still
think you wouldn’t have converted me.”

His finger slid under her chin, lifting her face.
“Then you’ve got another think coming. I’m not this nice man you keep making me
out to be. I’m a selfish bastard, and one look at you and I would have done
anything to keep you with me.”

“What makes you say that?”

His gaze never left hers. The fingertips of one hand
grazed down her back, flirted with the bottom of her shirt, then slipped
beneath. They were deliciously rough against her bare skin. Shivers chased up
her spine. Jared raised his other hand to place a finger to the hollow of her
throat, over the throb of her pulse. “The fact that I already have.”

She closed her eyes. “It’s not safe for you to be
around me.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.” She stroked his forearms. “I couldn’t bear to
be the cause of your death.”

He tapped the underside of her chin. She opened her
eyes. Flames flared in his eyes. “You’ll never get rid of me that easily.”

BY nightfall, there still was no buzzing in her head,
no call for information, and Raisa’s nerves were shot.

“A watched pot never boils,” Jared offered from where
he sat on the side of the bed, pulling his boots on.

“What in heck does that mean?”

He leaned over where she lay against the pillows,
bracing his arm on the other side of her torso. He kissed her lips lightly,
pulling back an inch to murmur, “If you’d give swearing a chance, you’d find
these moments much more satisfying.”

“What would satisfy me is to have the headache begin.”

“That would not satisfy me.” He pushed the
sleep-tousled hair out of her face, tracing the frown pleating her brow. “As
soon as you feed, we’ve got to head over to the lab. Slade’s got some
experiments he wants to run, but if you want, we can have the bomb taken out.”

He felt the temptation to agree tug at her. Instinct
demanded he force whatever would keep her safe. For a second, it got past his
control. Raisa blinked, sensing his presence. “No, Jared.”

It took a considerable amount of effort to rein in the
instinct, especially when she was looking up at him, her lips swollen from his
kisses, the scent of their lovemaking perfuming the air, his love bite marking
her neck. “If they don’t buzz you, they’ll never know.”

“And if they do buzz me, they’ll kill Miri.”

“Don’t take this wrong, but when push comes to shove,
I’m more concerned about you.”

“It’s not just her. There’s a baby, too.”

She didn’t have to remind him. He covered the bite
with three fingers. Around his touch, golden energy glowed, the darker flickers
around the edge were his, as if his energy was a taint that just couldn’t blend
with the purity of hers. “I know.”

Just as he knew she’d never risk a baby. He pushed
away, delivering a light slap to the side of her hip. He stood up.

“Which means you need to get up and get showered, so
we can see what Slade has worked up overnight.”

Instead of getting up she snuggled deeper into the
covers. “What makes you think he’s come up with anything?”

“This is Slade. The man’s brain never stops.”

“Uh-huh.”

He buttoned his shirt. She looked so comfortable in
the bed, he hated to disturb her. “I’m going to go heat up the shower. When I
come back, you’re going to have to say good-bye to the bed.”

The lazy wave of her hand sent him on his way. He smiled
as he headed into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. It was interesting
watching how a feeling of safety changed her habits. She was like a sleepy
kitten now, coming awake by degrees, playing with him, trusting him. He tested
the water. It was hot, but not burningly so. He headed back to the bedroom. In
the three minutes he’d been gone she’d managed to make a mess of the covers and
was all snuggled down in them, chasing sleep again.

“Come on, Rai, time to rise and shine.”

She cracked an eyelid at him. “Just a couple more
minutes.”

He’d played this game with Jace often enough to know
how two minutes stretched to two hours. He tugged the covers off her. For a
split second he had an unrestricted view of the perfection of her body—the
slender bones, the ultra-feminine curves that complimented her slight build
rather than overwhelming it, the satiny white skin that glowed like cream in
the overhead light, and the healthy pink of her toenails on her slender toes.
And then she was in motion, diving for the covers. While she was grasping for
them, he scooped her up in his arms. Another gasp, a bubble of laughter, and
then her arms came around his neck and she was nestled into his arms. Where she
belonged.

By stretching his thumb up, he could touch the spot where
the implant threatened. Rage welled along with an unfamiliar panic. He wouldn’t
let the Sanctuary take her from him. Immediately, the soothing stroke of her
energy found him, hugging him as he held her.