DanceoftheVampires (2 page)

“My sisters attacked your brothers and I meant to do the
same to you.” Lines crinkled her forehead and her lips parted in a baffled
expression.

“Yes, that you did, but it seems it’s the nature of the
baobhan
sith.”

“You do not blame me?” Her brows arched as she stared at
him.

“We all had a bad night. Tavish did kick over the cairn, but
he’s going now to right the stones so your sisters cannot get free.”

“As long as the rocks stay in place.” She cocked her head.
“You know of our ways, then.”

“My grandmother told me stories of the fey.” Ian rubbed his
chin. “I’ve never met a
baobhan sith
before, though. Wasn’t sure you
were real.” Excited at having a real fey in his bed, he felt a light, energized
sensation coursing through him. “Tell me though, with your sisters gone and you
left alone above hill, what will become of you?”

She shrugged. “I’ll be all right if I can stay out of the
sun.” She slid her hand to her mouth and nibbled on a nail.

“You rest. I’m going to check on my brothers and see if my
Mum has breakfast for me yet.” He found it hard to tear his eyes from her and
leave the room, but he knew it was best.

He and his brothers all worked the farm and it would be left
to them one day. His mother cooked for them though they were grown, just as
she’d cook for farmhands. That was not to say that they weren’t all spoiled by
her and her good cooking.

* * * * *

He left, shutting the door behind him. Sorcha clutched her
stomach with her other hand, trying to calm the churning sensation. She hoped
she didn’t retch like Ian had. She nibbled harder on a nail. Why had she chosen
him last night? Now she was caught by a mortal, alone in their world. His
brother yet lived or surely they would have killed her.

Even now, she didn’t know why they let her live. Though
grateful, she didn’t trust these humans. No fey did. They could stick her out
in the sun to burn away at any time. Her stomach rumbled as the deep, rich
scent of Ian’s blood danced in the air. She fought her hunger, yet his blood
smelled so full and sweet.

The cairn had been in place so long, then last eve they were
finally free to come above hill. The first man she saw was Ian. Though usually
more interested in what the men she fed on tasted like, she’d gazed at Ian,
drinking in the features of his oval face, his high forehead, the firm chin and
those compelling azure eyes. The few days of unshaven fuzz on his face and his
tousled hair added a rugged look to his handsome features. The man looked good,
for a mortal.

All her sisters would yell
crazy
at her if they knew
a flame flickered in her when she peered at that beckoning gleam in his eyes.
When he stood or sat near her, Sorcha’s skin felt coated by warmth and tingled
as if he stroked her flesh. Her six siblings weren’t here and couldn’t
interfere unless something happened to that cairn.

She should be terrified, abandoned above hill with mortals,
but the craving she had for Ian’s flesh, more than his blood, consumed her. She
longed for the feel of his hot, firm flesh against hers, to taste his lips as
they touched hers for the first time. He had become sick before she could run
her tongue over those full lips and tug and nibble on them. With Ian on her
mind, hungry to eat him up, she sank into the soft bed. She pressed the heels
of both hands over her tired eyes. A weary, drained sensation from Ian
wrestling her to the ground and the effects of sunlight overcame her. With the
image of Ian in her mind, she let out a deep sigh as sleep took her.

* * * * *

Ian headed to the kitchen for tea and porridge. As soon as
the burnt smell of deep-fried oil and the thick, meaty scent of sausage
assaulted his nostrils, his mother and father assailed his eardrums with
questions.

“Ian, what happened?” His mother clutched her apron,
twisting it nervously.

He poured a cup of tea. As the warm steam tickled his nose,
he wondered if he should offer Sorcha some. “Do
baobhan sith
drink tea?”

“I don’t know, Son.” A tinge of curiosity gleamed in his
father’s eyes. “Is she joining us for breakfast?”

“Let the boy eat first before you go plying him with
questions.” His mother playfully tapped his father on the shoulder.

“Me, plying him with questions?” His father picked up his
cup and leaned back while he sipped.

His mother grabbed a plate from the cabinet. “I made your
favorite.”

“Scotch eggs.” The hardback kitchen chair creaked as Ian
plopped down in it. He hadn’t realized how famished he was until he sniffed the
aroma of the salty bread and sausage-battered boiled eggs. He dug his teeth
into a crunchy scotch egg, taking a gulp of Earl Grey between bites. “She’s
sleeping,” he said around a mouthful.

“Is she now?” His mum’s eyebrows arched.

“Your brothers told us what happened. You stayed to save them
all. Brave you are, Son.” His father nodded at him as he set the teacup on the
saucer with a clank.

“Lucky you aren’t dead. The whole affair gives me the
shivers.” His mother shook her shoulders to emphasize her point.

His mother and father were so amusing, they kept him
smiling. Still breathing and back home, he reveled in his life. He knew he had
a lot to smile about. “It all began at the pub.” Ian took a sip of tea.

“I’ve warned you about drinking all night.” His mother
leaned her head back, squinting up at him.

“Ooch, but Mum, for all the preaching folks do about it,
drinking saved my life last night.” Ian shoved the last piece of scotch egg
into his mouth.

“You don’t say?” His father's eyebrows arched.

“I’ll tell you why.” He grinned. “These women appeared.
Prettiest girls I’ve ever seen and they wanted to dance with us. We all paired
off and all my brothers were dancing, but I never learned how to.”

“You were always a shy one.” His father nodded.

“I stood there with Sorcha, nervous and drunk. Then I
retched right at her feet.” Ian drained his teacup dry and with a clash set it
on the saucer.

His father took a sharp breath. “No.”

“Saved my life. If I hadn’t been hammered, I’d probably be
lying out in the McLeods’ field, dead.”

“Do not say that.” His mother clapped her hand to her
forehead and her eyebrows slanted downward with worry.

“Now there’s the truth of it.” His father flashed a smug
smile. “I’ve heard many a man in the pub speak of how whisky saved his life.”

“Have you now? And have you heard them tell of how whisky
ruined their marriages?” His mum put one hand on her hip, sitting at the
breakfast table. “Go on with you now. It’s foolishness and it’s because of you
that he would say something like that.”

Fighting to keep a straight face and not laugh, he went on
with his story. “Well, she stepped back from the smelly mess and had a look at
her dress to make sure nothing splashed on it. Then Angus, his blood drained,
dropped to the ground. I knew then they were
baobhan sith
. I grabbed
Sorcha and held her down to avoid becoming her dinner. Her sisters piled on top
of me to rescue her. I told my brothers, ‘Save yourselves. Run.’” He flung his
arm out for emphasis. “There I was, alone, with one
baobhan sith
beneath
me and six of them on top. They bit, scratched and yanked every inch of me, but
I hung on to Sorcha. I knew the moment I let go of her, I was food for the
dancing vampires.”

“That is what they feed on, human blood.” His father
whispered the last two words.

“It’s what all the tales say.” His mother’s eyes grew
larger.

“Then,” Ian paused for effect, enjoying the way they hung on
his every word, “just in time, when I couldn’t hold on any longer, the sun
rose.”

“Thank the good Lord for saving you.” His mother slapped her
palm against her chest.

“And the
baobhan sith
vanished as if they had never
been there at all. But Sorcha still lay trapped beneath me. Then my brothers
came to rescue me.”

“It’s quite a tale, lad.” The kitchen chair squeaked as his
father rocked it back on its rear legs.

“One to tell your grandchildren in your old age,” his mother
added. “Mind you, after you eat, dab a swab of iodine on all those bites and
cuts.”

“Yes, Mum, that I will.”

“I do not know what to say of Tavish, though.” His mother
shook her gray-haired head. “He’s too old for this type of foolishness.”

“That he is.” His father finished his tea.

“I can hear the whole village now. Talking about us. Saying
the cairn lay undisturbed since time out of mind, until one of the McDuff lads
kicked it over and let a pack of wild
baobhan sith
loose.”

At the sound of someone rapping on the door, his mother went
to answer it.

“Hello, I just came to visit and I brought you one of my
steak and scotch pies.”

Mrs. McDuff took the offering from their neighbor. “Thank
you, Fiona, won’t you come in for tea?”

Once inside, Fiona turned this way and that, peering around.
“I hear you have a visitor. A young woman, very bonny they say.”

“Ooch, we have one of the
baobhan sith
here, Fiona,
but she’s sleeping. It’s still daylight you know.” As soon as Ian’s mother put
the pie down, there was another knock.

“I’ll get it, Mum.” Ian stood, walked over to the door and
pulled it open.

Mrs. Campbell from down the road pushed a basket of cabbage,
carrots and turnips into his hands. “Good day, it has been so long since I
dropped by. I just wanted to bring you fresh vegetables from my garden. Is your
mother home?”

Ian pointed to the kitchen, where the other visitor already
plied his mother with questions about last night’s events. He set the basket
down and turned to his father. ”We should get a lot of goodies today with all
the nosy women in this village.”

“Yes, it is so.”

When another person banged on the door, Ian decided he felt
tired and eased into his room. He lay down on the other side of the bed. Stretching
out next to Sorcha's soft body, he could feel the heat of her lush flesh. She
looked so serene in her sleep. Her eyes were closed, fringed with thick lashes.
There was a light pink tone to her oval face. Her red lips were closed in a
silent pout. He slipped his arm over her shoulder, cautious not to waken her. A
warm shiver coursed through him. He snuggled against her and shut his eyes. His
body relaxed, sinking into the soft bed, cuddled next to this woman, this fey
with smooth skin and soft curves. The whisky he drank last night and the energy
spent holding her down before dawn had taken their toll on him. He drifted into
a deep sleep.

He awoke to a dark room. It was night. Rising on his elbow,
he peered into Sorcha’s eyes. She was awake.

“Good morning.” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Well, it’s good evening.” When he looked at her face, he
thought of the sun and the moon, as her skin looked bright and luminescent.
Gazing into her eyes, he saw the night sky and twinkling stars. Her long, silky
hair laid a trail from her face to the rest of her treasures, draping her neck
and curving over her shoulders, hanging past the gold belt she wore,
emphasizing her tiny waist. He shifted his gaze to her firm, high-perched
breasts then to her curved hips and her long, lean legs. The corners of the
sweetest mouth he’d ever seen curved into a wry smile. None of that meant
anything. She wasn’t a woman, she was a vampire. She’d tried to kill him and
his brothers.

She moved into a sitting position in bed. “No, my day begins
at moonrise, it’s morning. How are you?”

“Well enough, even with the bites and bruises from your
sisters.”

“Do you mean to take revenge? Wound me with iron or leave me
out in the sun to shrivel up tomorrow morning?”

“I had something else in mind.”

“What would that be?” She flashed a crooked, closed-lip
smile.

“Not so fast. First I must ask, do you intend to drink all
my blood?”

“I feel ravenous, but it isn’t your blood I’m wanting.” Her
eyes gleamed with mischief, like someone with a secret. “So you’re the
youngest? Your brother mentioned it.”

“I am. It hasn’t been the easiest of lives, not with my
brothers. Well, you’ve met them. One of them knocked down a fairy mound last
night.”

Her smile deepened into laughter. “I know what it’s like.
I’m the youngest of seven girls. You met my sisters, they claw the blood out of
humans and drink it.” Her face broke into a goofy smile. “As do I, or as I did.
I cannot since you captured me. It is the lore of the
baobhan sith
.
There are rules.”

“I have to say, it’s a relief to know you can’t drain my
blood. We’re off to a good start. Your birth order is interesting. Even though
I’m a seventh son, I never met a seventh daughter before.”

“I have.” She tilted her chin up as her mouth and eyes
lifted in a smug expression. “I know another seventh sister very well. You see,
my mother is the youngest of seven girls.”

“What a coincidence that is. My father’s the youngest of
seven sons.”

“You are the seventh son of the seventh son?” Her brows
arched.

“Yes.” He nodded. “You are the seventh daughter of the
seventh daughter?”

“I am.” She cocked her head.

“No wonder,” they both said aloud at the same time.

“I guess it’s meant to be.” As Ian gazed into her eyes he
felt a pull, a connection to her.

“We are like gorse and heather.” Her dark eyes sparkled with
a sensuous gleam. “We belong together. Though I should hate you. You grabbed
me, kept me from my sisters and trapped me in this dangerous place with iron
and sunshine, both fatal to me.”

“Well, I should want you to die. You and your sisters tried
to drink all the blood from me and my brothers.” He wouldn’t let anyone or
anything harm her now. His heart raced and his skin tingled as she talked. He’d
the same experience in that field when she strolled up to him in her green
plaid dress, her hips swaying, her breasts jiggling, before he knew she was a
baobhan
sith
. Even knowing what she was hadn’t changed one thing about the way his
body reacted to her, yearned for her.

“We should hate each other.” Sorcha licked her red lips. “It
would be the only thing that makes sense.” She peered at him seductively. “I am
glad I’m here with you.”

“Me too.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her, though the
image of her face was burned into his soul, as smooth as if carved from
alabaster. A dainty nose set above full ruby lips and a flush of pink on her
sculptured cheekbones.

He reached out and cupped her chin. His fingers felt warm
from the touch. He pulled her face to his. His kissed her chin, gentle as a
whisper, then brushed his lips against hers. He pressed harder, covering her
mouth with his, devouring her softness. He hungrily moved his mouth over hers.
Her lips were moist and hot. A heady sensation overcame him. During the
lingering kiss, he wrapped his arms around her. He felt her wrap her silken
arms around his back. A jolt of heat thrust through him. The flesh at his groin
throbbed as his lips tugged urgently against hers. He quivered as she ran her
smooth palms down the plane of his back. He parted her lips with his and
slipped his tongue inside, deepening the kiss, plundering her mouth. He flicked
his tongue in and out. His pulse sped at the sound of her mewling moans.

Ian eased his lips from hers. “I want you.” He peeled his
tee-shirt off and tossed it to the floor. His blood rushed.

“Yes.” Sorcha unfastened his belt.

His cock drew tight, swelling. He ached with need as she
slid his jeans off his legs. He kicked them off his feet. He watched Sorcha’s
gaze drift from his chest to his hard arousal. Grabbing her waist, he hooked
his fingers beneath her golden belt and unfastened it. When he gathered up the
silk plaid with his hands, the sensation hit him of dipping his fingers into
liquid flower petals floating in water. He slid her dress over her head and
with a whiplike motion flung it to the floor. His gaze roved over her bare
body. Her flesh had a sheen to it. The orbs of her breasts jutted out and the
dusky pink nipples grew hard and erect under the scrutiny of his gaze. He
wanted to grab the long, loose hair tumbling down her milky skin and yank her
to him. Pressure built in his groin to the point of pain.

In that moment his head was full of nothing but rushing
blood and a throbbing need for Sorcha, no other thoughts penetrated his mind.
In one fluid motion he straddled her, wedging Sorcha’s creamy thighs between
his. Ian cupped her breasts and kneaded and shaped them. A moan escaped from
deep within her.

He breathed in her zingy, sharp, floral scent. His senses
reeled. “Kiss me.”

His mouth met hers in a warm, wet kiss. He twisted his lips
against hers. Ian forced her lips open with the thrust of his tongue. His
erection grew harder, more rigid as he flicked his tongue in and out of her
mouth.

His lips left her mouth to sear a path down her neck and her
shoulders as his hands still crushed her breasts hard. His tongue was still
coated with salt from the scotch eggs and it blended with the wild yet delicate
taste of her skin.

He had to have more of her. Sorcha’s nipples tightened
beneath his palms. Her skin was so hot against his hands. A shortness of breath
hit him. He moved his mouth to her breasts and captured a hardened nipple
between his lips and suckled. Cupping a luscious mound in each hand, he
squeezed the smooth, billowy flesh. As his tongue whisked her erect peak, he
fondled the fullness and softness of her breast, kneading and stroking. He
lashed one nipple with his tongue as he rolled the other between his fingers.
He was on fire.

He slid his mouth to her other erect peak. Wetting it, he
lapped it with his tongue as he nudged the other with his fingers. He caught
the hardened teat between his teeth and tugged gently as he pinched the other
nipple. He couldn’t breathe. Her breasts thrust forward. She let out soft mewls
of delight as he squeezed, stroked and suckled her silky skin.

When she arched her hips, his swollen erection pressed
against her lower belly. He needed to slide down, into her wet, fiery center.
Every fiber of his body pulsated with desire.

“More,” she rasped.

Her palms felt like warm satin sliding over his bare back.
He moaned as she pressed her fingers into his soft flesh. She ran her hands
down to the curve of his ass. His burning flesh throbbed to the point of pain.
He had to have her. He couldn’t hold back much longer. Had to plunge his
hardened arousal into the moist center of her heat. Her soft palms cupped his
ass cheeks and pressed down hard, guiding him into her.

“You wild woman.” The head of his cock touched the hot, wet
folds of her sex.

Hot shivers rocked his body. Ready to plunge, he let out a
sharp intake of breath as she swung her hips forward, which jerked his cock
deep inside her, buried in her moist heat.

“Ian,” she called in a breathless whisper.

He quivered as she uttered his name with such passion.

She felt so tight as her moist walls squeezed his cock. He
filled her completely. Ian pumped his hardness into her softness. Her pussy
stretched with his thrusts as she took all he had to give. Her breasts bounced
and rubbed against his chest as he drove into her. Her desperate whimpers and
mewls of pleasure goaded him to thrust harder, faster. He pounded his cock into
her as he breathed in short gasps between groans.

As he drove into her, the wet walls stretched around his
erection, then clenched down tight. Expanding. Contracting. Massaging his cock as
he pumped her fiery center. She drove him mad.

He thrashed harder and deeper into her. She arched her hips,
rocking back and forth, meeting his thrusts. She sucked in quick breaths. Ian’s
heart pounded in a rhythm as wild and fast as his hammering thrusts. Ragged
groans tore from his lips.

The more she took, the more he had to give. With powerful,
hard jabs he plunged his sex, as hard and deep as any man could, to the very
end of her pussy. She cried out and shuddered beneath him. A tormented
expression of deep pleasure-pain crossed her face as he burst inside her. She
gasped, arched and writhed. His entire body shook as his seed spilled into her.

Ian pulled out of her and slid down by her side. He wrapped
his arm around her as they snuggled. His body was drenched with sweat and he
felt so sated and satisfied, then someone pounded hard on the bedroom door.

“You all right in there?” his mother asked. “She hasn’t
drunk you dry, has she?”

He burst out laughing, then his gaze met Sorcha’s. Her eyes
were wide with a glazed, lust-filled look and her full, red lips were parted. A
surge of need burned through him like a wild fire.

“Should I answer her? You did drain me.” He would never get
enough of this woman, but she wasn’t human. He’d slept with a vampire. Not only
that, but he had to have more of her.

“No, that’s your mother, show some respect.” Melodious
laugher spilled from her still-swollen lips. “You are hardly drained. I think
you’re ready to go again.”

With his arm still draped around her silken shoulders, he
pulled her closer to him. He groaned as his erection pulled taut, hardening
like a rock from just feeling her warm flesh against his.

“What I’m thinking is, you’ve been in here all day and it’s
a beautiful, clear night. Come with me on a moonlight stroll.”

“Where will we go?”

“Somewhere we will not be disturbed.” He swung his bare legs
onto the floor and bent down to grab his jeans and tee-shirt.

He caught her watching him as he pulled his clothes on, then
slipped his large feet into his sneakers and laced them up. She raked her eyes
over his entire body, examining the fit of his muscled flesh against his shirt
and pants and shoes. His heart hammered. He knelt down and reached out to the
silk gown, gathering it in his arms. As he stood, she threw back the covers.
Her breasts bobbed as she leaned forward and pushed up to a sitting position.
He swallowed hard. Mesmerized, he peered at her pink, flushed flesh as she
swiveled toward him and swung her long, lean legs outward so her feet touched
the ground. She stood before him. Her bare body swayed as she stepped forward
and stopped in front of him. He inhaled a sharp breath.

She gracefully snaked out her slender arms and lifted the
dress out of his hands. She slid the emerald tartan silk gown over her head. It
flowed down her body, clinging to the curves of her breasts and hips. She
slipped her small feet into her shoes and twirled across the floor ’til she
reached the door and opened it. He walked behind her, his gazed latched onto
her round ass, which she seductively swung to and fro as they entered the
living room.

* * * * *

Not wanting to interrupt his mother, he waited for her to
finish talking to his brother.

His mother tilted her head closer to Tavish, peering
intensely at him. “I’ve told you many a time not to stay out all hours of the
night drinking.”

Tavish held his arms akimbo. “That has nothing to do with
what happened.”

“Yes it does.” His mother's lips thinned and her eyes grew
sharper. “Any time you have seven boys and seven girls meet up after midnight,
there’s going to be some sort of trouble. Put
baobhan sith
with it and
this is what you get. The whole lot of you are lucky you weren’t shredded and
all your blood spilled.” She clasped her hands together and cast her eyes
upward as if thanking God.

His father arched his brow as he nodded at Tavish. “Did you
set the cairn aright?”

“I put the stone back, good and tight.” Tavish slipped his
hand in his front jeans pocket.

“Yes, but now we have a
baobhan sith
sleeping in our
house, don’t we?” His mother huffed.

“Well, she has to sleep somewhere, dear.” His father’s head
went from bobbing to shaking as he added, “I do not want her draining my cows
of their blood, though.”

“What about your sons’ blood?” His mother spread her arms.

“Well, I do not want her drinking theirs either.” His dad
cocked his head.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Ian’s mother flashed a sideways
look at his father. She swung her head back, spotting Ian and Sorcha. Then she
plastered a big smile across her face. “So, there you two are. You’ve been in
the bedroom a while.”

“Mum, Sorcha and I are going out. I’m going to show her
around the town.”