Highland Vampire (4 page)

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Authors: Deborah Raleigh,Adrienne Basso,Hannah Howell

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Historical, #General

BOOK: Highland Vampire
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"Ye ken what I refer to, lass. We need to discuss what stirred between us when we embraced."

"'Twas but a kiss, Jankyn. I have been kissed before."

For a brief moment, Jankyn almost believed she had felt little, had not experienced the depth of hunger he had, but then he noticed how she avoided his gaze. "And did ye let any of those men get ye beneath them? Did ye purr for them, Efrica?" He nodded with satisfaction when she glared at him. "We both felt it. We both felt the heat, the need."

Efrica refused to be flattered by his admission that the kiss had stirred him as well. "Lust. 'Tis no great thing. I am nay a child now so 'tis no surprise a skilled mon might stir a lusting within me. And from what I have heard, stirring a lusting in ye just requires a woman to give ye a smile."

"Curse it, Efrica, cease condemning me for taking what was freely offered, as any mon would do. I am without bonds and owe no one any explanation or apology." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how she could make him feel so guilty, even ashamed. "Aye, when I first arrived here, the interest I drew was a heady thing. I have ne'er left Cambrun save to go to some kinsmon's lands. It was a pleasure which waned verra quickly for I soon realized it wasnae truly a simple giving and taking of pleasure."

Although she truly hated hearing him speak of the other women he had been with, curiosity prompted her to ask, "What else could it have been?"

"The scent of new prey? The scent of mysteries and secrets? I was the dark, dangerous lover, the mon of shadows. A bold dare accepted. A challenge. Who could uncover my secrets? I was but another pelt to collect."

"Ah, I see. The women treated ye as men so often treat women."

That was an uncomfortable truth he had faced himself just recently, but refused to admit it. "I thought I had slipped into this life with ease, had become one of them, but realized that wasnae so."

"Is that one of the reasons ye came here? To see if ye could become one of them?"

Jankyn shrugged. "The thought had crossed my mind. Ye ken Cathal's plans to bring the MacNachtons out of the shadows," he began.

"Aye, he plans to breed the MacNachtons out of their caves." She forced herself not to blush with guilt beneath the condemning glance he gave her.

"Ye ken as weel as I that Cathal and Bridget are true mates, bound by vows and their hearts." He briefly smiled. "And your sister, having just gifted our laird with a second pair of bairns, is doing more than her share of the work. Willingly and joyously."

Thinking of her new niece and nephew, Efrica had to smile as well. Bridget would have her hands full with those two, as she did with her twin sons now two. Then Efrica thought of her other niece and nephew, children bred when her brothers had dallied with some MacNachton women during one of their visits, women they had not married, and she frowned at Jankyn.

"Have ye come here to breed?" she asked.

"Of course not," he snapped, then sighed. "Since I first became a mon, I have hardly been a monk, have I?—yet the only child I e'er bred was David and I asked that lass to marry me. She decided to stay with her own kind. So, nay, the thought of breeding didnae bring me here. Since the outside world is creeping e'er nearer to our sanctuary, I thought it might be wise to let them ken a MacNachton or two, to set the image of a mon in their minds instead of naught but dark rumor. Tisnae working out quite like I planned, although I have made a few good friends amongst the lairds. Unfortunately, the explanations for why I am ne'er about in the day make that a difficult task."

"What explanations do ye give?"

He grimaced. "That I cannae abide the sun or verra strong light because it hurts my eyes and my skin is quick to burn." Jankyn scowled at her when she giggled. "It makes me sound a most delicate flower, I ken it. I had to make sure a few saw me practicing some of the more monly arts with David to soften the shame of it." He suddenly turned, resting his shoulder against the wall so that he could watch her more closely as he spoke. "And we have veered widely from the matter I thought we should discuss."

Efrica crossed her arms over her chest. "What needs to be said? ‘Twas just a kiss."

"Lass, trust me to ken about such things. ‘Twas nay
just a kiss
. Ye ken it as weel as I do. The heat, the need, came upon us fast and hard. We need to be honest about it or we cannae fight it."

"I am nay some wanton lass who—" The touch of his finger upon her lips silenced her as warmth flooded her.

"Aye, 'tis there," he said softly, forcing himself to remove his finger from her far-too-tempting mouth. "I dinnae imply that ye are wanton, lass. This isnae about morals. 'Tis about passion, the passion that stirs within us for each other. Unless we accept that truth, we could easily fall into its trap."

"Then dinnae kiss me again."

"I willnae. We are going to keep a verra respectful distance between us as of now."

It was exactly what she wanted. Efrica wondered why she felt irritated and hurt that
he
would suggest it. That was dangerously contrary of her. She was obviously going to have to give herself some very stern lectures once she was alone.

"That would probably be best," she forced herself to say, pleased by how calm she sounded.

"I will make that easier by getting back to work on one of the reasons I came to this cursed place."

"And that was?"

"To find out more about my own heritage." He stood up straight and gave in to the temptation to kiss her cheek. "Burying myself in dusty scrolls and ledgers should cool my blood."

Efrica watched him walk away and sighed. He was such a beautiful man, one who moved with a grace that drew and held the eye. If he had not been a MacNachton, she knew she would have been making a fool of herself trying to draw his interest her way. She had a strong inclination to do so now. The light touch of a hand upon her arm startled her, and she turned to face a concerned Barbara.

"Ye look verra troubled and sad, lass." Barbara watched Jankyn stride out of the great hall. "Mayhap ye should—"

"Nay." Efrica glanced around to be sure they could speak without being heard. "He is a MacNachton. I have naught against them. I ken they arenae creatures from a nightmare, soulless undead demons who see the rest of us as naught but food. Howbeit,
what
he is makes him unsuitable. Barbara, he cannae e'er join me in a walk through a garden to watch the morning sun dry the dew upon the flowers. He is already nearly thirty years my senior and e'en he cannae say how much longer he will live, but 'tis surely a verra, verra long time. We willnae grow old together. He is the only one born amongst the Purebloods for more than two score years. 'Tis clear the seed of a Pureblood is weak. Aye, despite his lecherous ways, Jankyn has bred but one child and that upon an Outsider, a MacMartin. A mon now and one who must still be cautious about how long he stays out in the sun in the full light of day. I want children, Barbara."

"Your sister—"

"Her husband isnae a Pureblood." She shook her head. "I weel understand the curse of ancient bloodlines that mark one as, weel, different. The Callans have dealt with it for generations, aye? Jankyn can toss grown men about as if they weighed nay more than a cushion. Those teeth he is careful to hide would make a wolf envious. He can rip a mon's throat out and drink deep of the blood that flows from that mortal wound. Aye, the MacNachtons have strict rules about such things now, saving such savagery for thieves, murderers, and enemies. He would have done it to the men who attacked me if I hadnae stopped him. The urge was there. To recover from being in the sun even that short while he needed to drink wine enriched with blood." She nodded when Barbara frowned. "Aye—
too different
."

"It does make our ancestress seem nay so bad," murmured Barbara.

"Aye. Better a cat than a wolf. And the Callans have worked hard to breed it out until there is naught but a shadow of her left. The MacNachtons have only begun to do the same. ‘Twill be a long time ere many of them can walk freely amongst us."

"I understand all ye say, but I think your heart doesnae completely agree with your head."

"Nay, it doesnae, but I will make it do so."

"E'en if he returns your feelings?"

"Aye, tempting as that may be. I might be able to accept all the other things, but when I waver, there is one thought, one hard cold fact, that always stiffens my spine."

"And that is?"

"I may be able to condemn myself to living in the shadows, but I willnae condemn my children to doing the same."

Chapter Four

She did not care that she had not seen Jankyn for a week, Efrica told herself firmly as she left the garden and entered the castle. The fact that she had spent a large part of her time in the garden looking up at the window to his chambers was just a matter of curiosity. It was a huge lie, but she clung to it. It was best to remind herself that the time she had just spent in the sun, enjoying its warmth and savoring the scent of roses, was exactly why Jankyn was not the man for her. He could not have even looked out upon the garden if the sun was shining in the window.

"Greetings, Efrica."

Startled, she looked around and saw David sitting on the floor, his back against the stone wall. That was odd enough, but looking more closely, she realized he looked pale. As she stepped closer, she also noticed that he trembled slightly. Quickly kneeling by his side, she lightly touched his face, wondering if he was fevered.

"Are ye ill?" she asked.

"Nay, only weakened." He smiled faintly. "I took Mistress Fiona for a stroll in the gardens and lingered longer than was wise. ‘Twill pass. I can abide the sun, ye ken, but must be wary when 'tis at its strongest, and I forgot that for a wee while."

Efrica sat down beside him. She wondered how long he had sat here, for she had not seen him or Fiona in the gardens. He had the look of his father despite his dark red hair. The purity of his features, his lean, graceful body, and his dark golden eyes marked him as a MacNachton. Obviously there were other less welcome similarities as well.

"Do ye need anything? I could help ye to your chambers."

"Nay. Och, aye, a wee bit of Father's wine might speed my recovery, but I try to resist that cure. I wish to marry, ye ken, and that sort of thing can alarm a wife."

"Aye, but do ye mean to ne'er tell your wife about the MacNachtons? Ne'er return to Cambrun?"

He shook his head. "Nay, I willnae live a lie nor scorn my kinsmen." He sat up a little straighter. "I want to wed Mistress Fiona, and it appears her family welcomes my wooing of her. I have begun to carefully prepare the way for the truth, though it may need to be hidden from her kinsmen, at least for a while. Howbeit, I cannae hide all that I am from my wife, can I?"

"Nay, ye cannae. Especially if ye feel the need to, weel, mark her as your mate."

David nodded. "I feel it. That will be the hardest thing to explain. I fear I could lose her because of it, but I
will
have to tell her ere we wed. I but hope to make her love me enough to accept it all."

Thinking of how the dainty, brown-haired Fiona looked at David, Efrica smiled. "I think she does care for you."

"I think so, too, but it needs to be deep and strong. Father warned me that some women cannae accept it all. Aye, my mother couldnae. 'Tis why she wouldnae marry him. That and the fact that she foresaw how he would look as she aged, that he would soon look more like her son than her husband."

Efrica knew that feeling. "That could also cause ye some trouble, I suppose."

"I dinnae think I am of that ilk. I have aged as I should thus far. I dinnae heal as easily or as fast, either. Most of us who are bred of both worlds do live long lives, but nay so long as to raise much more than admiration in others." He started to stand up, smiling when Efrica moved to help him. "My strength is returning. Since meeting Fiona, I have occasionally cursed my heritage, but there are some verra good things about it, too."

When he took a step, he was a little unsteady, and Efrica quickly linked her arm through his. "Do ye want to go to your father now?"

"Wheesht, nay. I just need a bed to lie on, and mine suits as weel as his. He isnae in his chambers now, anyway, but in the ledger room, or whate'er it is called. He has been hard at work in his search this last sennight."

Efrica ignored the curiosity in the look he gave her as she walked with him. "He said something about researching his heritage, but exactly what does he search for? I thought the MacNachtons had already gathered all that was kenned about their heritage yet he apparently has some questions about his own."

"He does. We dinnae ken it all. 'Tis difficult for a MacNachton to travel in search of information, aye? Dangerous, as weel. Not long afore our laird wed Lady Bridget, one of ours was caught whilst aroaming and brutally executed. The priest of a village declared him a demon, ye ken."

"Ah, of course." It was yet another reason to tame her infatuation with Jankyn. If they wed, when she traveled to see her kinsmen, she would undoubtedly do it alone or risk losing her man to a hastily built pyre in some village.

"Father has discovered a few missing pieces in his lines, a few mysteries. He looks for answers. He begins to wonder if he is truly as pure-blooded as he was told. One thing that stirred his curiosity was how I am—more Outsider than Pureblood. 'Tis true that a mating of the two produces varied offspring, but I am more akin to my mother than my father in too many ways. That is unusual."

Efrica was unable to stop herself from being intrigued. Was Jankyn not a full MacNachton? Could he be more akin to his laird than to the ones who spent most of their long, long lives in the caves beneath Cambrun? It did not matter, she told herself firmly. He was more one of the cave dwellers than his laird was. More feral, more a creature of the night. There may be more Outsider blood in him than he thought, but it had obviously been well cowed by that of the pure-blooded MacNachtons. David may be more like his mother, but he still suffered some beneath the sun and still had a taste for blood, even a need.

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