DanceoftheVampires (3 page)

“You aren’t going out in the night alone with her, are you?”

“Yes.” As Ian walked away, he overheard his father say, “You
have to be careful of what you say around the
baobhan sith
. They’ll
sneak up on you.”

“Hush, she can still hear you,” his mother said in a rather
loud whisper.

Ian turned and waved good night to them.

His father didn’t notice though, as he was speaking to his
wife. “He can show her around all he likes, but I do not want her near my
cows.”

* * * * *

The cow statement was the last comment Sorcha heard before
she followed Ian outside. As he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, his touch
sent a warm shiver through her. Ian led her down the winding road.

Sorcha tried to put his father’s comment out of her head but
it hung on, irritating her like an itch in a hard-to-reach place. “I do not
drink from cattle.”

Ian tightened his arm around her. “Do not fret over anything
they say. None of us do. Think of it as entertainment.”

Sorcha couldn’t help but laugh.

“We just listen to them for fun, their banter goes on for at
least an hour, we call it the comedy hour.”

His warm smile made her tingle. His heated gaze was intense,
as if his eyes fed on her. It sent her heart racing. The warmth of his arm,
draped over her shoulder, felt so warm and bracing as they walked down the
road. “Why are you looking at me like that? Like you want to eat me?” After
all, she hungered for his blood, yet it seemed as if he’d become the hungry
hunter and she the prey.

“The smartest thing Tavish ever did—kicking over that
stone.”

Sorcha burst with laugher and he chuckled with her. She’d
laughed so much since she’d met Ian. Still giggling, she put her arms around
his neck. Her skin tingled where she touched him. His hot breath fanned her
face as he chuckled. Ian’s laugh broke off. His eyes smoldered as he swept his
head down and pressed his warm mouth to hers. She burned with the heat and
taste of the sweet and salty wetness of his mouth. His kiss grew more demanding
as he parted her lips with a thrust of his tongue. Tension coiled in the damp,
needy place between her legs. She couldn’t repress the low moan that erupted
from her. He released her lips and she turned her head away. Her body nearly
shook with need for him, but her mind spun with turmoil.

She heard a voice in her head,
“Run, get away from him.
He’s enchanted you. You are the fey, he’s the human, you can’t fall under his
spell. Leave now. Go to your sisters’ cairn and free them. Think of your
sisters, not this human.”

Oh no
, she thought,
it‘s my sisters. They’re
looking for me, reading my mind. They want to make sure I’m all right.

She bit her lip as she tried to think.

She gazed into Ian’s blue eyes, illuminated by the spark of
passion. Her breath caught in her throat and she could barely speak. She wanted
him, but… “You are human, I am fey. We should not be together. I belong
underhill with my sisters. You live in the mortal world.”

“We’re both here now. Together.”

She thought,
forget my sisters. They like it underhill.
They need to stay there.

With their arms around each other, Sorcha and Ian continued
down the road when they heard honking from a pickup truck full of people. The
driver pulled up beside them.

One of the men in the bed of the truck yelled out, “Ian,
come on. We’ll buy you a pint.”

Grinning, he turned to Sorcha. “These are friends of mine
headed to the pub. Have you ever had whisky or beer?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I have tasted those drinks in
human blood, they’re a bit like heather mead.”

“I’ve never had heather mead, but you do not know what
you’re missing if you’ve never had a beer. Come on.”

His friends pushed the tailgate down and Ian climbed in,
then gave Sorcha a hand up into the truck.

She sat beside him and stretched her legs out. When she
leaned her back against the side of the truck, he stretched his arm across her
shoulders and the back of her neck.

She felt so relaxed with him. “It is like a motorized wagon.
I have seen these in the mortal realm.”

With one brow arched high and a gleam in his eyes, he
laughed. “Are you saying you’ve never ridden in a truck before?”

“We have no need for such underhill.”

The girl sitting across from her flashed a wry smile. “Nice
dress. So different.”

“Thank you.” She noticed the girl didn’t wear a gown at all
but the same type of blue pants as Ian, called jeans.
I need new clothes,
like the humans wear
, Sorcha thought.

The man with the shaggy brown hair, who’d called Ian into
the truck, looked at him. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Ian nodded. “This is Sorcha from underhill.”

“Underhill?” A girl in a white cardigan leaned forward. “I’m
not sure I’ve heard of that. Is it near here?”

Sorcha shrugged. “Fairly near, but it’s very different.”

“Well, I’m Tammy and this is my boyfriend Jake.”

The short-haired man sitting next to Tammy wrapped his arm
around her and said to Sorcha, “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m David.” The other man brushed the shaggy brown hair out
of his face.

“Have you known Ian long?” Tammy flashed a bright smile.

Ian and Sorcha both answered at the same time. “No.”

“Ah, you’re the one we heard about.” David peered hard at
her.

Tammy’s and Jake’s eyes grew wider as they gaped at Sorcha
as well.

Sorcha said the only thing she could think of. “Well, it’s
nice to meet you.”

Though the ride was bumpy, it wasn’t as bad as she’d
expected. They came to a stop at the White Bull. Everyone spilled out of the
truck. Ian helped her down and took her hand in his, lacing their fingers
together. The warmth of his touch both comforted and excited her. The two who’d
sat inside the truck, Rob the driver and Kate his girlfriend, introduced
themselves to Sorcha. They all headed inside. From the moment they entered,
people gathered around Sorcha, not gawking as she’d expected but smiling at
her. Ian guided her to a table and his friends all pulled up some chairs. The
barmaid served each one a frothy pint.

Sorcha cupped the glass in her hand and took a gulp. The
thick, heady drink held a faint taste of salt. “It’s a little different than
the heather ale underhill, but I like it.”

“I knew you would.” Ian reached out and pushed a wayward
strand of hair away from her face.

Her skin tingled from the contact of his fingers brushing
softly against her temple. She liked being with Ian. Her sisters would never
understand, but she’d rather be here than underhill. She glanced around the
pub, noisy, warm and filled with fun. She couldn’t help but smile at the happy
people.

The girl with straight blonde hair, Tammy, leaned toward
her. “Is it true you are a
baobhan sith?”

Before she could answer, Jake asked, “How did you two meet?”

By the time Sorcha finished telling them the story of Tavish
knocking over the stones of the fairy mound, she’d finished her beer. One by
one Ian’s chums slapped him on the back.

David grinned at him. “I always knew you had it in you.”
Then he turned his head toward Sorcha. “So now that he’s caught you, what
happens next?”

“Well, now that I’ve caught her,” Ian’s lips parted further
and drew into a round shape as he peered into her eyes with the gleam of
passion. “I do not intend to let her go.”

A frisson of heat rippled through Sorcha. Her sisters would
never understand, but she didn’t want to go. She intended to stay. “Since you
captured me, I have to stay with you.”

“Good.” Ian’s eyes smoldered with fire as they clung to
hers. “We never did get our dance,” he rasped.

“You aren’t going to throw up again, are you?”

His eyes twinkled with amusement. “No, not this time.” He
flashed a sultry smile at her. “Let’s dance.” He stood and reached his hand out
to her.

Sorcha pushed back in the wooden chair and rose. She
entwined her fingers with his. As he led her onto the dance floor, she bumped
into some people though she tried to squeeze by. She said, “Excuse me, excuse
me,” several times before she reached the small wooden square.

“Now this kind of dancing, I can do.” He flashed a silly
smile. “Sort of.”

Sorcha looked around. The couples were standing in front of
each other, but they didn’t embrace. What type of dancing was this?

Ian grinned. “Just move to the beat, kind of shuffle your
feet and sway.”

Sorcha mimicked Ian’s movements, shuffling her feet, bending
her elbows and shifting her shoulders from side to side with the rhythm of the
song.

“You’re a much better dancer than I am,” Ian said in her
ear, trying to be heard over the loud music.

“The
baobhan sith
dance.” She laughed.

Ian nodded. “You’re my dancing vampire.”

Sorcha picked up on the chorus to the jukebox tune and sang
some of the words aloud. “Tiny dancer in my hand.” She gazed at the light
smoldering in Ian’s blue eyes.

He sang back, “Hold me closer, tiny dancer.”

Her heart beat with the pulse of the music. Then a new song
began.

“Now this is a real old one.” Ian drew her into his arms.
They snuggled together, moving in a slow, sensual rhythm. He sang, “Take my
hand, take my whole life too.”

Swaying to the music, she sang with him, “For I can’t help
falling in love with you.”

Just standing near him, she felt the heat of his body
penetrated her already hot skin. His lips covered her mouth in a shivery kiss.
An aroma, the odd mix of musk and garden-fresh cucumber, his scent, engulfed
her. Sorcha suckled his wet, warm lips. Gently, he withdrew his mouth from
hers. The delicious, addictive taste of his lips, which was mild yet with a
slight tang, lingered on her tongue.

“You have to get home afore the sun comes up.” Slipping his
arm around her shoulders, he clasped her tightly to his side.

She loved the warm, bracing feel of him. They walked back to
the table where his friends sat.

“We need a lift back to the farm.”

“It’s too early for me,” Jim said.

“No, you know you have to get back for the morning milking.”
Ian put his hand on his hip.

Jim grinned. “The cows can keep.”

Ian let out a deep, warm chortle. His laughter always made
Sorcha want to purr.

“Well, I’m ready to leave.” Robbie, the driver of the truck,
stood. “It looks like you and Sorcha will have the back to yourselves.”

Ian nodded. “We can make do with that.”

She smiled at Ian as she, he, Robbie and Kate walked back to
the blue pickup.

Sorcha’s body felt so warm and soft against him as Ian wound
his arm tighter around her. He told his friends he didn’t intend to let her go,
and he didn’t. For a moment though, he wondered if he was crazy. He worked and
lived on his family’s farm. He couldn’t keep a woman there. He’d need to get
his own place. Ian sighed. How would he afford that? He glanced down at
Sorcha’s hands. Her nails were normal now, but they could transform to talons
instantly. She could claw him to death quite easily. Did she really care about
him? Was that enough? Could he trust her not to rip him to shreds? His heart
hammered from holding Sorcha close and his erection throbbed, but his mind told
him he had a lot to think about.

Just as she began to climb into the back of the truck, Kate screamed.

“Oh no.” Sorcha looked around. Her sisters surrounded the
truck. They held their arms out in attack mode, their nails extended like a
wild cat’s claws.

“I see the sun did not kill you.” Tearlag swept her gaze up
and down Sorcha’s body as if checking if she’d been harmed.

“We have been looking for you.” Murdina turned her arm so
her palm faced up. She curled her fingers, beckoning to Sorcha.

“Ian shielded me from the sun when it rose.” She stepped toward
her oldest sister. “How did you enter the mortal realm? They told me one of his
brothers piled the stones back.”

“Mine were knocked loose, perhaps by a cow or sheep. I freed
the others.” Fuamnach’s eyes were bright with eagerness, proud she had helped
them all enter.

“We’ve been searching for you.” Mordag dropped her arms from
the gesture of attack and set both her hands on her hips. “Calling into your
mind.”

“You did not answer. We worried all day.” Aithbhreac shifted
her arms and folded them across her chest.

“Come to us.” Eimhear tilted her dainty chin in the air.

“I’m glad you came for me. I thank you for that. I’d do the
same for you. Please understand, I won’t come back with you.” She had to stop
them. They were going to kill Ian’s friends. This wasn’t right. She’d do
anything she had to for Ian. They would not hurt him. She’d kill them first.
Her own sisters. “It’s not what you think, I am fine. I am happy. The human
captured me. I belong to him now. I belong here. I chose to stay with him. You cannot
change my mind.”

“You have grown confused in this mortal realm. You cannot be
happy with a human.” Murdina’s long, red hair flowed to her hips as she left
the circle and walked toward the truck and to Sorcha.

“I am his now. He captured me. Is it not so? I could not
leave him if I wanted to. Though as I told you, I choose to stay with him. I
do.”

“You can leave him if we kill him.” To demonstrate, Tearlag
clawed the air with her inhumanly long nails, each with a deadly point, as she
parted her ruby lips and let out a loud, long hiss in warning.

“Stop.” A rush of throbbing rage tore through her. “Leave.
Now.” Sorcha glared at her sister, clawing her with her eyes. Then she flung
her arms out. Her own fingernails extended, lengthening to talons. “I won’t let
you hurt him.”

She heard several footsteps and turned to see Ian’s brothers
walking down the road to them, including Angus. Each moved behind one of the
baobhan
sith
.

All six brothers grasped something in their hands. An old
weapon she recognized. Prepared for battle, a little flame appeared in each of
their hands when they flicked on cigarette lighters and lit strips of cloth
tied directly behind the tips of the bolts loaded in the crossbows they held.
Dark, heavy fear swept through her, leaving her feeling empty, powerless. She
began to gasp but took a deep breath, fighting her panic. Someone had to stop
this battle between her sisters and his brothers or they would all die. She had
to stop it and she had to be calm to do it.

“After we got Angus from the hospital, we checked out the
cairn. Made sure Tavish put the rocks back, you know how he is.” Malcolm stood
stiff and alert. He kept his eyes glued on his target, Murdina. “We found them
kicked loose again.”

“We tried to find cold iron, as the fey are vulnerable to
it. We aren’t even sure what it is.” Errol held his crossbow with flaming bolt
on Aithbhreac.

“We brought some tire irons, just in case.” Tavish aimed his
crossbow at Eimhear as he spoke.

“We have a better weapon, bolts of fire should work fine.”
Calin stood behind Mordag, ready to shoot her in the back.

“That’s right, we’re armed this time. You know how you girls
like to dance? Well, we boys grew up shooting crossbows. A hobby of ours,”
Lachlan said, targeting Fuamnach.

In an instant his flame went out and he lit the strip of
cloth with his lighter again.

“Our father taught us.” Angus looked well, all healed and as
strong as ever as he kept his eyes and his weapon on Tearlag.

Sorcha’s breathing grew faint, her heart rocked in her chest
and her palms grew clammy. Angus aimed a flaming bolt at Tearlag, Errol stood
beside him with his loaded crossbow pointed at Aithbhreac. Sorcha cringed as
Tearlag leapt off the ground and soared through the air, launching herself at
the foe at her side, not Angus but at Errol.

Sorcha’s body shivered as she watched. Fear and anger both
rioted in her.

The bolt struck Tearlag. Her bloodcurdling scream rang in
Sorcha’s ears. The green silk dress lit afire. Flames engulfed the material and
she fell to the ground. The stench of cloth and flesh burning and the smell of
smoke and fire filled the air.

“No, no one shoot. Stop.” Sorcha rushed to her.

Her sisters dashed forward as the brothers all stepped back,
except Ian, who ran to help them. Sorcha reached toward her screaming sister
caught in flames. She grabbed hold of the bolt with both hands, with no concern
of getting burned herself, and yanked it out. Her sisters bent down, scooped up
handfuls of dirt and threw them on Tearlag’s flaming body to smother the fire.

When the flames died, Tearlag lay on the ground, still alive
and screaming. Most of her dress had burned and what was left of the green
tartan silk was rags and soot. Blood poured out of the open wound where the
crossbow bolt pierced her in the back.

Ian peeled his shirt off and ripped some of the fabric into
strips, then handed them to Sorcha. Quickly she used the large part of the
cotton tee as a pressure bandage and wound the strips tight around Tearlag’s
upper body to hold it in place and staunch the bleeding.

“If you get her underhill she’ll heal, but you have to
hurry.” Sorcha clasped her hands together, shaking them as she pleaded with her
sisters.

“We cannot leave you with this mortal.” Murdina threw her
arms out and swung her head side to side as if torn between which sister to
save, Tearlag or Sorcha.

“I choose him.” Sorcha wrapped her arms around Ian and
pulled him to her. Their lips touched. She felt safe in his arms, like
everything would somehow be all right. She gave herself into the kiss, the
world drifted away. She felt connected to Ian. No one else mattered. His
brothers whooped and hollered. Sorcha’s sisters all gasped.

When she eased her lips off his, she gazed into his eyes and
peace filled her as he silently assured her all would be all right. She looked
around and his brothers had all put out the flaming arrows and set their
weapons down. Ian’s friends had piled back into the truck and driven off to
safety. The sisters all lowered their arms and retracted their talons. She saw
they all had short, normal nails once more.

Murdina walked up to her and held out her arms. “If he makes
you happy, then we are happy for you.” Sorcha flung herself into her sister’s
embrace. They released their hold on each other.

Fuamnach stepped to her. “He seems like a good man, for a
human.” She wound her arms around Sorcha in a warm hug.

Mordag came to her. “We will never forget you. Take care of
yourself.” She wrapped her arms tightly around her, then stepped back.

Eimhear strolled to Sorcha. “Best wishes and bright blessings,
sister mine.” She swung her into the circle of her arms.

When she stepped back, Aithbhreac came forward. “Have a
happy life.” She gathered Sorcha into her arms and held her snugly. Then she
let go and they all turned and looked at Tearlag.

As the wounded sister lay on the ground, she smiled through
her pain and told Sorcha, “Farewell, I shall miss you.”

Murdina knelt down by Tearlag’s head and Fuamnach and Mordag
on either side of her upper body, with Eimhear and Mordag at her legs. Sorcha
watched with teary eyes as her sisters worked together, lifting their sibling
and carrying her toward the cairn to travel back to the world underhill.
Flashes of scenes, memories, filled her. She recalled giggling with her sisters
as they spoke of what gods were the most handsome and who they most wished to
share their bodies with at the Samhain festival. She remembered all her sisters
helping one another wind flowers in their hair, then dancing together at the
Beltane festival. She smiled as she recalled picking golden apples in Avalon
with her sisters and asking the wise Salmon silly questions to see if they
could find one he couldn’t answer. This might well be the last she’d see of
them.

She waved her arm and called out, “Farewell and blessings
with you.”

With his arm still wrapped around Sorcha, Ian asked. “Will
she be all right?”

“She will heal in full in the otherworld. It looks like your
friends left in the truck.”

“They had to go. They didn’t get along well with your
sisters.”

Sorcha burst out laughing.

He chuckled with her as his brothers gathered around.

“This is a crowd.” Ian waved his arm in the air. “We will
meet you at the house.”

“We’re going into the pub for a pint, then.” Malcolm led the
rest of his brothers toward the White Bull.

Ian took Sorcha by her hand. Warm tingles rippled through
her arm at the contact.

He led her down the winding road. “We have time before
sunrise, I want to show you a special place.”

They strolled across the road to a nearby field, where an
ancient megalith stood. The delicate fresh scents of gorse, heather and wild
thistles wafted in the soft evening breeze.

Sorcha shivered at the feel of his hot hands as he cupped
the sides of her head and turned her to him. He gazed intently into her eyes as
he grabbed her waist. In one fluid movement, he unfastened her belt and dropped
it to the ground. She gasped as he yanked her dress over her head and tossed it
on the grass. As she watched him unfasten his belt and tug his jeans off, her
body and mind agreed that Ian should take her now. Sorcha raked her gaze up his
long, lean, muscular legs. Her gaze slid to his groin. Her pulse pounded.
Sorcha gaped at the rigid, veined length of his full erection.

“Big.” Her gaze stroked every inch, from the mushroomed head
down the long, straight staff and over the masculine girth, which thickened
under the scrutiny of her eyes. “Your cock.” She burned and throbbed in the
damp private place between her thighs. “It’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” He flashed a wild grin. “I aim to please.”

She gasped at the double meaning of his words. Still
breathless, her gaze clung to the hard, rippling muscles of his chest, lightly
powdered with golden whorls of hair. She burned as he jerked her against him.
His mouth covered hers. Sorcha could taste, smell, feel the raw hunger in him.
It mirrored the same longing in her. As his lips stroked hers, she yearned to
have his big, thick, powerful cock stroking her inside.

His hot hands slid down her back. She moaned as he grasped
her shoulders and nudged her back against the hard, standing stone. Her skin
prickled as sensations of fire and ice swept through her. She squirmed as he
trailed feathery kisses down her arm. Taking her hand in his, he slipped his
wet mouth over her finger and sucked. She shivered with pleasure. One by one,
he slid his mouth up and down each finger of her hand. His tongue felt smooth
and warm upon her skin. Moistness pooled between her legs and her heart
hammered.

Sorcha quivered as his wet mouth found her breasts. She let
out a soft mew as his lips pinched her nipple. As he suckled the erect peaks,
spirals of heat surged through her. He cupped a breast in each strong hand. She
closed her eyes and gave in to the fire consuming her. She moaned as his wet
tongue whisked her nipples. She felt her breasts bounce as he kneaded and
stroked them.

In all the long years of her life, which stretched to time
out of mind, she had only seduced men for want of their blood. To feed. Never
before had she felt a hot breeze blow inside her when she looked at a man.
She’d never been unable to take her eyes off a man before. Her breath hadn’t
ever gone shallow as her heart raced so hard and fast she thought it would leap
out of her chest. Those moments she lay covered by Ian’s body as the sun rose,
the rays must have got to her brain somehow and damaged her. It had to be that.
She had a hunger only he could quench, and it wasn’t for his blood but for the
way he made her blood boil. Needing him to take her, to fill her full. The
seductress had been seduced, and it was the most incredible, breathtaking,
heart-rending night of her long life.

She slid her hands up to his silky hair and pulled, winding
it around her fingers. Sorcha didn’t even try to hold back the deep, raspy
moans. Her blood boiled. Her pussy throbbed with need.

“Sorcha.” Ian called out her name in a husky, lust-muted
voice. Her name uttered from his mouth with such passion sent a jolt of heat
through her. It was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.

Grabbing her arms, he pulled them over her head and pushed
them against the standing stone. “I want you.”

“Yes, oh yes,” she moaned. “Fuck me.”