Shadow Wranglers: Slade Part 7

Slade slung his long legs out of the car. "Hey."

Stepping over his scuffed boots, she avoided his hand and ordered, "Just stay there a minute."

Before she dragged him through the trail of sunbeams, she needed to check to see if he was going to fit. The metal lid of the box opened with a groan worthy of a horror movie. Perfect. Just perfect. Now she had ambiance to go with the terror wending through her bones.

Inside there were a couple of dead spiders and a few leftover oats. And rust. All in all, if she was looking for a positive sign, this could be it. That was a plus. She'd been dreading a Willard moment, with rats pouring out as she opened the lid. Dead spiders she could handle. Rats, not so much. She left the lid open and went back to the car.

Slade was waiting, but she didn't flash the light on this face. She didn't want to. One, she hadn't been lying about the weak stomach, and two, the horror-movie a.n.a.logy wouldn't leave her brain. Slade hadn't shown any blood-sucking tendencies, but if this were a horror movie, now would be the moment where it all went bad. He had her trust; she was trying to help him. In any decent horror movie, it was time for the kill shot.

"C'mon."

There was a long pause, then the rustle of clothing against the seat back, and a groan. She slipped her shoulder under his arm.

"News flash-now is the wrong time to faint."

"I never faint."

"Pardon me. Get weak at the knees."

"I don't do that, either."

Lord, he was heavy. "What do you consider the proper terminology for a man about to pa.s.s out?"

"Men don't pa.s.s out."

"Then we'll go with mine. Don't pick now to faint. We need to get twenty feet, to the box, before you can pa.s.s out." He grunted. "Can you make it?"

He stood, swayed, his height taking him past her ability to support. "I'll make it."

If sheer determination was a guarantee, she'd bet he would. Unfortunately, she had a bird's-eye view of his face. Ghosts had more color.

She took an involuntary step backward as he leaned forward. He placed his palm on the SUV "Don't worry. I'm not l.u.s.ting for your blood."

"I didn't think you were." The shiver that went down her spine made a liar out of her. She took another step backward.

"Sure you were. That's why you keep stepping away."

"Maybe I'm just afraid you'll fall on top of me and squash me flat."

"I wouldn't squish you, sweetness."

Sweetness. Why did he keep calling her that? She flashed the light in his face. His eyes burned back at her-an icy gray. Funny, she'd thought they were more green than gray before. Light played unmercifully across his horribly burned face. Her stomach turned. The left half was worse than the rest. His eyes closed as he took slow, even breaths. Oh G.o.d, he looked near death. "I can't catch you if you faint."

"Already told you, men don't faint."

"Good." She flashed the light toward the box. "You need to get over there."

He straightened. "No problem."

Looking at how he weaved, she had her doubts. More beams propagated in the dark interior.

He straightened and swayed. "I'll be better by nightfall."

"You're delusional."

"No, I regenerate."

She paused, excitement flaring. That was intriguing. "Really?"

He cracked an eyelid. "I should have known that would get your blood pumping."

"It's not-"

"I can hear it, Jane."

How was she supposed to respond to that? "Sorry."

Tiny white lines fanned out from the edges of his lips. He took a step forward. "Don't be sorry. I'm probably one of the few people able to understand your reaction."

Using the side of the SUV to steady himself, Slade took another step. Jane couldn't stand it as he wavered. Whatever was wrong, he was definitely on his last legs. She wrapped her arm around his rock-hard waist.

"That's not necessary."

"If you knew me as well as you think you do, you'd get that it's totally necessary."

His arm came down across her shoulders. A heavy, surprisingly comforting weight. "I guess you're right."

Jane had been humored enough in her professional life to recognize when it was happening. Slade was definitely humoring her as he gave her just enough of his weight to make her feel useful, but not enough to strain her back. It was a surprisingly sweet thing to do. They reached the end of the hood. The last fifteen feet, they were going to have to do on their own. She bit her lip.

"Slade?"

His finger brushed her cheek, almost as if he knew her worry. "What?"

"If you make it to the box, I'll let you kiss me."

"Deal."

She wondered if he was smiling. She wondered how much he was hurting. She wondered if they were both going to see the night. "Ready for the last few steps?"

"Not really."

"Let's pretend."

"You do an awful lot of pretending."

"I learned young."

"Learned how to pretend?"

"No, learned that it helps."

"With what?"

"Dealing."

He let go of the hood. The first step was solid, the second shaky. The third sent them tumbling. Slade spun them around, taking the brunt of the impact. The flashlight beam sliced through the murk and dust motes, revealing the rusted tin roof. Her breath woofed out as she landed on top of him. She was vividly aware of every plane, every hard muscle of his lean form. She looked down at his hand, pressed over her stomach. The skin on the back was split and oozing. Her stomach rose. Oh G.o.d. "I'm going to be sick."

He didn't let her go, didn't move, just breathed slowly and steadily as his fingers spread across her abdomen. Her stomach roiled some more.

"Let me go."

"No."

Something touched the edges of her mind. A soothing warmth that fanned inward along her bloodstream. His fingers splayed further, his cuts oozed more.

"Look away."

"It's not going to help."

"Humor me."

She did. The warmth spread, drawing her attention inward, toward the comfort of that heat. The nausea abated. She let out a breath.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes."

Leaning back against him, she gave him her weight, letting him hold her for a second. Just one second. He didn't even flinch, just took it as if it were his right. "I've got you, sweetness."

That "sweetness" ruined everything. Jane slid to the side, which was as far as he would let her go. Sunlight touched her toe. She turned and grabbed his hand. "You need to stand up, now."

"I'm working on it."

She tugged. He didn't move. "Why are you so weak?"

"I used a lot of energy levitating the car and feeding power to the engine while masking our presence."

She blinked. He'd done all that? He could do all that?

"Add to that the fact that I'm naturally sluggish during daytime, and my body's efforts to heal the burns..." He stood. "And it pretty much adds up to shutdown."

"You can't control it?"

Again, the touch on her cheek. "Even vampires have survival instincts."

She supposed they did. Twisting out of his embrace, she motioned to the box. "You need to get in before you fry."

He didn't move, just stared at her with those strange eyes that contained those strange, mesmerizing fires. "I freak you out."

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. "On many levels."

"Any of them good?"

She wasn't touching that with a ten-foot pole. Standing, she ordered, "Get in the box."

He held out his hand. She did her best not to look at the torn skin as she braced her feet. "On three, okay?"

He nodded. "On three."

"One, two, three." She hauled back. He pushed off. The momentum was enough to send him forward. She stumbled backward. Her knees collided with the back of the box. His hand slammed into the wall above her. His arm wrapped around her, keeping her from falling into the box. She quickly twisted, catching her weight on her hand, taking the burden off him. His touch didn't leave her. It lingered in tingles of warmth that were deceptively calming. She closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. "We made it."

"So I see."

When she opened her eyes, he was looking down into the box. "You weren't kidding about it being a tight fit."

He was right. It didn't look possible. "It's the only place here that the sun can't reach you."

"True enough."

She couldn't say Slade's descent into the box was graceful, and he didn't look comfortable once he was in there, seeing as his knees were nearly up around his chin.

"Are you going to be okay?"

A band of sunlight sneaked across her forearm and flirted with his shirt.

"I'll be fine. Close the lid."

She didn't have any choice. Before she could close it all the way, he caught the edge. "A soon as you close this lid, I want you to get in that car and drive due north."

"Drive to where?"

"As far as you can get. I don't want you to stop. Just keep driving. Don't use your credit cards, don't use anything. Don't trust anyone."

"Why?"

"I want you to disappear."

She could only stare at him. "I can't do that. I have a life."

"If you don't do that, the life you're going to have left isn't one you're going to like."

"How will I know if you're okay?"

"I wrote down an email address and pa.s.sword. It's in the glove compartment. Memorize it and then destroy it. A week from now, log in. I'll have directions for you."

There were so many holes in that plan. "And what if you don't?"

His eyes met hers. The flames were more apparent now, blending with the gray and green, weaving in and out of the darker flecks. "Then don't stop running."