Highland Vampire (7 page)

With her back against the cold, stone wall and the two men in front of her, Efrica could see no clear route of escape. She had thought she had been cautious enough to be safe but had obviously not been as careful as she could have been, for she had given these men the chance they had clearly been waiting for. It had never occurred to her that she might need a bodyguard to make a quick trip to the privy. The fact that both men were bleeding from wounds she had inflicted did please her, but she knew those wounds were going to cost her dearly if she did not get away.

They lunged at her and she did her best to keep both men from getting a firm grip on her at the same time. This time they were not deceived by her small size or her sex into thinking it would be easy to capture and hold her. Once Lachlan slammed her against the wall so hard she was surprised she did not feel or hear a bone crack. She decided they were definitely planning to make her suffer for the injuries she had given them. When they finally got her pinned against the wall, she hissed at them. The looks upon their faces told her that, during the battle, she may have revealed her ancestry a little too clearly. Their brief confusion faded, turning into looks of hard determination. Efrica knew she could not fight them anymore, that she was too bruised and exhausted.

Suddenly Jankyn appeared behind the men. Efrica decided that that wolf-eyed, teeth-baring look he wore held its own wild beauty at times. By the looks upon the faces of her attackers as they were suddenly lifted off their feet and flung aside, she knew they had not seen or heard Jankyn's approach, either. Thomas sprawled on the floor several feet away and did not move, but Lachlan began to stand up. Efrica saw Jankyn start to turn toward that man, fury still marking his features in a way no one could see and forget She hurled herself into his arms with the last of her strength, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Shield the teeth, Jankyn," she whispered, fighting to remain conscious until all danger had passed.

It was not easy, but Jankyn reined in his fury and bloodlust. He pressed his lips together before turning to face Lachlan. The scent of their blood, still flowing from the slashes Efrica's nails had inflicted, made that control even more difficult. As he stood there holding a trembling Efrica, Jankyn ached to make the men pay dearly for touching her, hurting her, and making her taste such fear.

"When I look again, ye and that other piece of offal had best be gone," Jankyn said to Lachlan, then turned his attention back to an increasingly limp Efrica. "They have hurt you."

Hearing the snarl in his voice, Efrica struggled to speak. "Nay so badly. A bit dazed and bruised is all. Ye dinnae need to be ripping any throats out. Could cause talk, ye ken."

Jankyn sighed loudly. "Ye do ken how to take all the joy out of a mon's life, lass."

Efrica attempted to smile, even though she was not sure he was jesting, at least not completely. "Are they gone?"

"Aye, scurried away like rats, they did. Weel, a wee bit more slowly as one rat had to carry the other." He picked her up in his arms when he realized that her grip upon his neck was probably all that kept her standing. "Are ye going to swoon?"

"Callan women ne'er swoon."

She had barely finished saying the words when she went completely limp in his arms and he rolled his eyes over her false bravado. He did not know where her chambers were, had made it a point not to know. That left his chambers and he was reluctant to take her there. Having Efrica in his room, upon his bed, could offer up more temptation than he could resist. Jankyn started toward the garden to find a bench where he could sit and hold her until she came out of her swoon. If anyone chanced to see them there, they would think it was two lovers trysting.

Once in the garden, Jankyn sought out a bench set between two small rowan trees, hard up against a high wall, and sat down. He settled Efrica comfortably upon his lap and studied her face in the soft light of the full moon. Even though he still ached to kill the men who had attacked her, he was glad she had stopped him again. He did not want her to see him commit such violence. The fact that she knew what he
could
do to a man was unsettling enough.

For a moment he wondered if he had become ashamed of what he was, then shook his head. He held none of the hard arrogance of his ancestors, that blind pride that had allowed them to see Outsiders as little more than dumb beasts to feed upon, but he
was
proud to be a MacNachton. The MacNachtons were more civilized now, had more respect for all life. It was fear that kept them all so secretive about their nature, fear of the dire fate awaiting anyone who was decried as a witch, a sorcerer, or a demon. And it was fear that allowed Lachlan and Thomas to escape his fury, fear of the look of horror and revulsion upon Efrica's sweet face as he rose from the bodies of the two men, their blood staining his mouth. She understood he was merely of a different breed, as she was, and that he was not some soulless, undead creature from an unblessed grave who fed upon the living. However, knowing of his nature and seeing it displayed were two different things. Jankyn knew it would pain him far more than he cared to think about if she turned from him in fear and loathing. What he felt for her had obviously far surpassed lust and liking.

He pressed his lips to her forehead and inhaled deeply of her sweet scent. Even David's mother, a woman he had wanted to marry and claim as his mate, had never moved him as deeply as this delicate woman did. Efrica truly was his mate, and yet even as he held her in his arms, he did not think he had ever felt so alone, for he could never claim her. It made his past sense of loneliness seem like no more than a bad mood. Although he felt certain she cared for him in many ways, and desired him, he was going to have to resist the temptation to try to win her heart. She was a woman who loved the garden, the sun, and children. He could give her only shadows, windowless rooms, and quite possibly, an empty womb. He could not do that to her.

She stirred in his arms and slowly opened her eyes. Jankyn stared into those warm, soft amber eyes and felt such a confusing wealth of emotion he was tempted to toss her to the ground and run for the hills. Instead, he kissed her, even as a mocking voice in his head called him an idiot.

Efrica was startled when Jankyn's lips met hers. For a very brief moment, she resisted the temptation of welcoming and returning his kiss. As she slipped her arms around his neck, she told herself the occasional lapse in good judgment would not hurt her. When she parted her lips to allow the kiss to become more intimate, it took but one stroke of his tongue to banish the last twinge of caution. The heat of desire burned away all thought of anything besides how good he tasted and how alive he made her feel. His hands stroked her body and soon had her trembling with need, aching for him to touch those places he was so carefully avoiding. She was just thinking of how much she wanted to feel his skin beneath her hands when he burrowed his long fingers into her hair and pain shot through her head.

Jankyn heard her moan, and she jerked slightly in his arms. Since he felt a little dazed himself, it took him a moment to understand that it was not passion that caused her to do so. He quickly turned her around on his lap to examine the back of her head. He was relieved to discover that the swelling there was not too great, but there was a cut that needed to be cleaned.

"I thought we werenae going to do that anymore," Efrica said when she felt she could speak calmly.

"We werenae and we arenae," responded Jankyn as he set her on her feet and stood up. He quickly wrapped a steadying arm around her slim shoulders when she swayed slightly. "'Tis unwise, especially since we will be spending time together. Where are your chambers?"

Efirica asked him as he escorted her back into the castle, "Why are we to spend time together?"

"Aside from the fact that ye have two men hunting ye?" He nodded when she frowned and then quickly told her what Malcolm had said. "In some ways, I need your protection as much as ye need mine. Ye cannae denounce or accuse those two bastards for what they have done, for unfair though it is, ye could easily be blamed for their actions or forced to marry one of them. I must needs play the courtier more than I have. My retirement from all gatherings has given the rumors and dangerous whispers fertile ground to grow in." Stopping before the door to her chamber, he opened it and gently but firmly pushed her inside. "I will see ye on the morrow. Be sure to clean the cut upon your head."

He shut the door, not surprised to see that she looked startled. It had been an abrupt leave-taking. Although he knew she was bruised and battered, the temptation to follow her into that room and continue what they had begun in the garden had almost been too strong to resist. He needed to cool the fire in his blood before he approached her again.

As he started toward his own bedchamber, he caught sight of Lady Eleanor at his door. Keeping to the shadows, he changed direction and returned to the garden. Jankyn looked up at the full moon and thought of the royal hunting grounds not far from the castle walls. A hunt would ease the bloodlust that still hummed in his veins after having to let Lachlan and Thomas yet again slip free. It might also ease the tight knot of unsatisfied desire that gripped his innards. Despite knowing that is was risky, he left the garden and headed for the royal hunting grounds. Tonight he would feed.

Chapter Seven

Efrica tensed as Lady Eleanor approached her. Jankyn had only been playing her guard, and she his, for one day, but Efrica was sure Lady Eleanor was coming to speak to her about him. The few times she had caught sight of Lady Eleanor yester eve, the way the woman had been watching her and Jankyn had given Efrica chills. Jankyn neither trusted the woman nor wished to be with her, but Efrica did not think he saw her as any real threat.

"Where is your champion?" asked Lady Eleanor as she stopped only a few inches away from Efrica, her smile of greeting cold.

"My what?" asked Efrica, determined not to let this woman intimidate her.

"Jankyn, of course. I suppose he clings to your skirts to keep Lachlan and Thomas at a distance."

"As my kinsmon, he would naturally wish those two to stay far away from me. They have been a trouble to me."

"Jankyn is your kinsmon? I didnae ken that there was a kinship between MacNachtons and Callans."

"My sister is married to Jankyn's laird, who is also his cousin."

"That hardly makes him a kinsmon," Lady Eleanor snapped, then swiftly controlled her irritation. "Ye cannae be quite so naive, can ye? Do ye nay ken the mon's reputation? He is insatiable."

The tone of gentle advisor, which Eleanor had adopted, made Efrica clench her teeth. "That may be, m'lady, but I doubt Jankyn would e'er consider dishonoring the sister of his laird's wife." The way Lady Eleanor stared at her made Efrica uneasy, for the woman's pale blue eyes seemed to see right into her heart, a heart Efrica constantly lied to. "Jankyn feels it his duty to protect me from further insult."

"Ye consider young Lachlan's and Thomas's wishes to make ye wife to one of them an insult?"

"Their manner of wooing isnae much to my liking."

"I think ye may prefer your
kinsmon's
manner of wooing. Ah, but what woman wouldnae, aye? He is the sort of mon who easily makes a woman lose all good sense and caution. Many have fallen victim to his beauty and his charm. I should hate to see ye, young and innocent as ye are, be deceived by the sweet lies he tells so weel. As I was," she added on a mournful sigh.

If the woman expected Efrica to offer her any sympathy, she would rot where she stood. It was bad enough that the woman spoke to her as if she were a child, and a rather witless one at that. That Lady Eleanor would play the part of an innocent seduced and abandoned by her heartless lover was infuriating. Did she really think Efrica was fool enough to believe that?

Efrica was forced to admit to herself that some of her fury was bred from pain. Lady Eleanor's character might be as ugly as sin, but she was physically beautiful, very beautiful. To look at this woman and know that Jankyn had held her, kissed and caressed her, and made love to her made Efrica feel as if she were bleeding inside. Efrica was not sure whom she hated more at that precise moment, Eleanor for reminding her of Jankyn's lecherous nature and all the lovers he had had, or Jankyn for being so free with his favors.

It was a poor time to have a revelation, she mused. The woman facing her was hunting for a weak spot, and Efrica realized she had a big one. Her heart had not listened to any of her lectures nor believed any of the lies she had told herself. It had gone on its merry way. Efrica knew that, if she was not already in love with Jankyn, she was but one kiss away from it.

"I am sorry if ye feel ye were ill treated, m'lady," Efrica murmured, silently wishing the woman would leave, would in fact go very far away. France would be a good start.

"Such things happen. One must learn from them. Aye, and try to pass that knowledge on to others, to try to save the heartbreak such men can cause. Oh, but despite my pain, I have few regrets. If one must slip from the path of virtue and good sense, one couldnae ask for a finer lover to lead one astray. So fierce in his passion, so skilled. But I shouldnae speak so plainly to such an innocent."

Given a little encouragement, Efrica suspected Lady Eleanor would quickly begin to speak even more plainly, but she would not offer the woman the chance. The very last thing she wished to hear was any intimate detail about the affair. Her own imagination conjured up more than she could stomach as it was.

"Nay, mayhap ye shouldnae." Efrica could tell by the slight widening of Lady Eleanor's pale blue eyes that she had not managed to keep all signs of her rising fury out of her voice.

"Now, child, ye must nay think ill of Jankyn. He is but a mon and they have e'er sought their pleasures where they can. 'Tis the nature of the beast. I should have been wiser. As a widow, and a few years older than ye, I am excused a few errors in judgment, as weel." Eleanor smiled and shook her head. "’Twas a verra sweet error, I confess. My late husband was many years older than I, and thus, I had no idea passion could be so wondrous, that a mon could banish all a woman's senses with but a stroke of his hand or a kiss."