Free Sarah McCarty by Slade Page A

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 password. 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.”
    “You’re a little ray of sunshine, aren’t you?”
    “Yeah. That’s me.” He grunted. “There’s also cash in the false bottom of the glove compartment, along with a gun and instructions on how to use it.”
    “I won’t need that.” It was a knee-jerk response that sounded stupid as soon as it left her lips.
    His gaze met hers. “You need to be prepared.”
    Yes, she did.
    From his unfocused gaze, she figured it wouldn’t be long before he passed out. Still, she couldn’t bring the lid down. Slade wanted her to abandon him to whatever came. She bit her lip. “You make it.”
    “Never had any plan otherwise. Close the lid, sweetness.”
    “You remember, you owe me a kiss.” She had no idea where she got the nerve to demand that. It had to be the stress.
    Slade didn’t miss a beat. “That’s a given.”
    He tugged and the lid came down with a thump, shutting her off from the warmth of his gaze, the force of his personality. The barn suddenly felt very big. Very empty. And the box was a very obvious hiding place. Goose bumps crept up along her arms.
    “Go, Jane.”
    She shook her head and