Highland Thirst (26 page)

Her
gaze shifted back out of the cave and in the direction the three Carbonnel
soldiers had ridden. It seemed to her that if they were going to leave the
cave, Tearlach would need more blood...and he was in no shape to go out hunting
for it.

Could
his kind survive on animal blood? She wondered and glanced back to him,
considering waking him to learn the answer, but he looked so peaceful she
couldn’t bring herself to rouse him.

Blowing
out a breath, Lucy peered out at the waning day. She would just wait until the
sun set and it was a little darker and then she would risk going out to find
them both something with which to break their fast.

The
cave was silent and cold when Tearlach woke. Used to waking in dark cold places
as he was, he shouldn’t have felt so bereft, but Lucy wasn’t there. She’d left
him, he realized and sagged back against the cave wall, eyes closing as he
pondered how odd it was that he’d got used to her presence so quickly. A couple
nights together in chains and another asleep in a cave and he’d come to rely on
her presence in his life and felt abandoned by her leaving.

He
shouldn’t be, Tearlach told himself unhappily. And he shouldn’t be surprised
either, or feel betrayed that she’d gone. He’d known from the moment that she
said she couldn’t escape alone that her only purpose for him was to help her
escape. He should have expected that she’d have fled at the first opportunity.

Scowling
as his body cramped, Tearlach forced his eyes open and peered around the dim
interior. He was hungry and weak and needed to feed. He wasn’t feeling much
like moving, however. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much choice in the matter, he
acknowledged. He needed to feed to survive and he needed to survive to get back
to his people, gather some men, and go after his cousin. Wherever he was.

Tearlach
had managed to shake off the drug he and his cousin had been given in the inn
long before Lucy had woken from her head wound in the dungeon. Until she was
conscious and aware enough for him to torment, Wymon Carbonnel had passed his
time by taunting Tearlach. He’d told him with great relish how he and his
cousin had been recognized at one of the earlier inns they’d stopped at, as far
back as Scotland. How they’d been followed, their route noted, and their
capture planned. They’d been heading south on a pretty straight path, stopping
at each village and inn to gather information. Apparently, several men had
followed them at a very discreet distance, while others had ridden ahead to
pass on the news of where they were to those who had gathered at Carbonnel to
plan and arrange their capture.

The
plan had worked well and Tearlach could only curse their arrogance and
stupidity in following a straight path, never concerned that they would be set
upon. Wymon had told him that his chore was to torture him until he learned all
he could about their home, its defenses, and the paths of the underground
tunnels that ran below it. His cousin had been taken elsewhere to be subjected
to different tortures, ones meant to discover how strong his people were, what
they could withstand, and what their weaknesses were.

Tearlach
felt his backbone stiffen at the very idea of what his cousin might be
undergoing even as he himself lay there weak and hurting, but safe in the cave.
Right that moment, Heming might be being tortured, burned, or what have you.

Mouth
tightening with determination, Tearlach forced himself to sit up. He needed to
get out of the cave, feed to regain his strength, find out who had taken his
cousin and to where, and then, either rescue him himself if he could, or head
home to gather men and return to save him.

Tearlach
wasn’t sure which was the better alternative. If he went after him alone and
failed, they would be worse off than before. However, if he went home to gather
men and then returned, they might arrive too late to save Heming. He wasn’t
sure what to do and was too weak and distracted with his body’s paining to sort
out the matter at the moment. He needed to feed. His thoughts would be clearer
then.

Tearlach
repeated that thought to himself over and over as he slowly forced himself to
his feet. While he’d fed a little from Lucy in that dungeon, it hadn’t been
nearly enough. His body had been badly injured by Wymon. Had he been a normal
mortal man, Tearlach had no doubt the torture and whipping he’d suffered would
have killed him. As it was, he’d survived, but with great damage. His body had
spent the hours since trying to heal itself, using up blood at an astronomical
rate. To feed as much as he’d need to repair the damage done and replace the
blood lost, though, would kill a single person. The amount he’d taken from Lucy
the night before had barely been enough for him to get them out of that
dungeon.

Not
that he’d really done much, he realized suddenly. If anything, Lucy was the one
who had gained them their freedom. She’d given up her blood to give him the
strength to mostly carry his own weight, but she’d also helped in taking some
of his weight as they’d made their way out of the dungeons. She was the one who
had risked slipping into the barracks and stealing clothes for them. She’d then
helped him out of the barracks and around to the stables and then gone in alone
to get the horse they’d fled on.

Truth
be told, while Lucy had claimed she couldn’t escape without him, she would have
done better on her own. It was he who had needed her, not the other way around.

Tearlach
had barely had that thought when he became aware of sounds coming from outside
the cave. It was a shuffling and dragging punctuated by an occasional grunt and
made him stiffen where he’d managed to get to his feet. He watched the mouth of
the cave with narrowed eyes that widened incredulously when a behind backed
through it, a behind he recognized as Lucy’s. She was bent at the waist,
dragging something heavy into the cave. That was the shuffling and dragging.
The grunting was a little sound of effort that kept slipping from her lips with
each tug and drag she gave at the body she was pulling with her.

Staggering
away from the wall, Tearlach hurried to her side, using a hand on the wall to
help him stay upright.

“What
happened?” he asked in a growl as he reached her side and peered down at the
unconscious man she’d dragged in.

“Oh.”
Forcing a smile, Lucy dropped the man’s hands and straightened, wiping one
forearm across her sweaty forehead as she explained, “I caught you something
with which to break your fast.”

“Ye
caught me somethin’ with which to break me fast?” Tearlach echoed, staring at
her with disbelief. His gaze dropped to the man on the ground. The something
she’d caught. She’d said it as if she’d snared a rabbit for his meal.

“He’s
one of Wymon’s men,” she explained and frowned at his expression before adding,
“you need to rebuild your strength. I thought since you didn’t wish to take too
much from me, you could...” Her voice trailed away and she frowned. “Why are
you looking at me like that?”

Tearlach
leaned his weight back against the cave wall with a disbelieving laugh and
shook his head. Why was he staring at her like that? He’d thought she’d fled at
the first opportunity, but instead she’d gone out and “caught” him someone to
feed on. How was he supposed to look at her? He felt confused and befuddled and
at the same time a seed of joy had burst to life in his chest and was growing
and growing. Her bottom backing into the cave may as well have been the sun,
because the cold, damp, and dark cave suddenly seemed like the sunniest spot on
the earth and Tearlach found himself grinning like an idiot...an expression
that apparently concerned Lucy no end.

“Are
you feeling all right?” she asked, stepping to his side to press the back of a
hand to his forehead. “You have not taken on a fever, have you?”

“I
be fine,” he assured her, his voice husky as he caught her hand and took it away
from his forehead. He clasped it and smiled softly, wanting more than anything
in the world to kiss this voluptuous little woman with the beautiful smile and
caring eyes. Instead, he blurted, “Ye didnae need me to escape, lass.”

Her
eyes widened slightly at the change of subject, but then she just shrugged and
said, “Aye, I did. My conscience would not have allowed me to leave you there,
so I needed you to leave so I could.”

Tearlach
grinned. “Ye got us both out o’ there yerself. Ye didnae need me. I was just a
burden.”

Lucy
looked annoyed. “I would not have left without you.”

“Ye
saved me, lass.”

Now
she looked embarrassed as well as annoyed. When she waved away his words and
turned to scowl at the unconscious man on the cave floor before them, he said, “I
thought ye were horrified on learnin’ what I was. That ye now thought me a
monster and only wanted me to help ye escape and would flee at the first
opportunity.”

Lucy
glanced back at him with surprise and then frowned and said firmly, “A pair of
fangs and a need for blood do not a monster make. Wymon has neither, yet I know
no one more monstrous.”

Tearlach
felt pain rise and recede in his chest as he heard the pain in her voice.
Wymon. The man had killed her brother, kidnapped her, chained her to his wall,
and intended to force her to marry him.

“Besides,”
Lucy said suddenly, drawing his attention to the wry smile now curving her
lips. “While you were not really very helpful in the escape, I was surely happy
with the company,” she assured him. “And I am certain you shall be more helpful
in future if you will just feed and regain your strength.”

The
last was said with firm insistence and Tearlach smiled at the scowl she now
cast his way. She had spoken nothing but the truth. He hadn’t been any help and
his earlier belief that she had sided with him only to gain his aid in fleeing
was just ridiculous, a result of his muddled thoughts, he supposed. It was
obvious he wasn’t thinking clearly and it was time he fed and did start
thinking clearly.

His
gaze dropped to the “something” she’d brought him to break his fast. The man
was now wholly inside the cave and not likely to be seen from outside, that being
the case, there seemed little reason to make her drag the man farther inside.
Dropping to his knees, he bent toward the soldier’s neck, pausing when Lucy
cleared her throat and asked uncertainly, “You will not need to kill him, will
you?”

Tearlach
paused and raised his head to peer at her curiously. She looked uncomfortable
and worried.

“Not
if ye dinnae wish it,” he said quietly.

Lucy
shifted on her feet and then sighed, “‘Tis just that...well, I know he is one
of Wymon’s men, but as such he really has to do what he is ordered to and I—”

“I
willnae take sae much it kills him,” he assured her solemnly and then,
self-conscious about feeding in front of her, he tried to distract her by
asking, “how exactly is it ye caught him, lass?”

“Oh,
well, I woke up when they were riding past. I moved to the mouth of the cave
and overheard them talking. They planned to camp in a nearby clearing. I waited
until they had passed, then followed and climbed a tree near the clearing to
keep an eye on them and watch for one of them to separate from the others.” She
paused and grinned. “I picked a very fortuitous tree. I had barely settled in
my spot when this one got up, left the clearing, and came to the base of the
tree I was in.” She peered at the unconscious man. “Fortunately, it was the
smallest of the three of them and the tree isn’t far from here else I would
never have been able to bring him back here on my own.”

“Aye,”
Tearlach agreed, glancing at the man in question. Actually, lad was probably
the better description. He was no more than sixteen and slender in build. Still
it was obviously an effort for her to drag him to the cave. Raising his
eyebrows, he glanced to her and asked, “Why did he walk to yer tree and how did
he end up unconscious?”

“Oh...er...he
needed to...er...” She wrinkled her nose, obviously finding it beyond her to
state the man had stopped to relieve himself on the tree.

“I
understand,” Tearlach assured her and she smiled gratefully.

“Well,
while he was...er...distracted with his business, I threw a rock down and hit
him in the temple.”

Tearlach
raised an eyebrow. “Ye threw a rock? And where did ye find this rock in the
tree?”

“Oh.”
Lucy waved that away. “I collected several and put them in my pocket before I
left the cave.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out several rather large
stones.

Tearlach
stared at her with admiration. “And ye knocked him oot with the first rock?”

She
blushed prettily, but nodded. “My brother and I used to practice hitting
targets with rocks when I was growing up. He used to say that the simplest
weapons were often the most effective, that a stone had felled Goliath and
could come in quite handy when necessary.”

Tearlach
smiled. “It’s soundin’ tae me as if yer brother was almost preparin’ ye fer a
situation sech as this.”

“Aye.”
Her smile faded. “He worried about me constantly. He said it seemed foolish to
him that women were the weaker sex and yet were not trained to defend
themselves as they should. He said he never wanted me to come to harm because I
knew not how to defend myself. He taught me many things while growing up that
most ladies do not learn.”