It Happened One Bite (18 page)

Before he could even think to dodge her blow, Blaire struck out with the heel of her hand and slammed it into his nose.

“Bloody hell,” he grunted as he moved himself from atop her body. James wiggled his nose with his fingers to see how much damage she’d done when she shoved him over onto his back and landed on top of him.

“Doesna feel very good ta be on the bottom, does it, James?” she asked. In truth, the lass had flipped him with such force a normal man would have been knocked unconscious. He was happy in that moment not to be a normal man.

Moving as fast as he could, James dragged her entire body on top of him, untangled her skirts from around her legs and pulled her to where she lay astride his hips with one knee on the floor on each side of him, his hands holding the backs of her thighs.

“On the contrary, I like having you on top of me.” He arched his hips and pressed against the center of her, letting her feel how hard he was. “I
ache
for you,” he growled. The curtain that was her hair hung around them, blocking out the rest of the world. He lifted one hand and cupped the side of her face in his hand. “I want to be inside you,” he softly admitted.

The lass didn’t back away. In fact, she trembled above him. She wanted him, too.

“I want to taste every inch of you,” he continued as he tugged the laces of her bodice. When he’d nearly freed the flesh that quivered with her every breath, she abruptly froze on top of him, catching his hand in hers and holding tightly.

“Someone is comin’,” she whispered, as she lifted herself from on top of him and righted her clothing.

“That is my fondest wish,” he sighed as he laid his head back against the floor in defeat.

A quizzical look sparked in her eyes, and James realized she didn’t have any notion of what he was talking about. Could she be any more charming?

He moved to help her fix the neckline of her gown. The cord she wore around her neck was stretched tightly. He slid one finger beneath it and tugged. “What
is
this thing you wear around your neck?”

He pulled, and, from its safe haven between her breasts, he tugged free his
ring
. His very own ring. The witch had it all along. And hadn’t even told him.

“Damn it all to hell, Blaire,” he growled, before he yanked it from her neck with a hard tug.

She sputtered and reached for the cord. “I was goin’ ta ask ye—”

But whatever she meant to say died on her lips the moment Captain Lindsay called from the corridor, “What are ye doin’ in
here
? MacQuarrie is tellin’ some stories of heroics ye willna want ta miss.”

Blaire could only stare at James. His black eyes darkened with fury as he pulled the ring from her cord and shoved her heirloom onto his finger.

“Miss Lindsay was just on her way,” James growled, his scathing look barely touching her.

Why did he have to find her mother’s blasted ring? She had every intention of showing it to him, asking if it was the one he sought. Clearly it was, or he
thought
it was. And after the morning spent in abject misery, Blaire had no intention of spending the rest of the day the same way.

She glanced at Aiden and smiled tightly. “Will ye remember the details and tell me later? I’m havin’ a conversation with Lord Kettering.”

Aiden’s eyes shot to James and then back to Blaire, suspicion clouding his expression.

Blaire frowned at the dolt. “Do ye remember the talk we had, Aiden, on the way ta Strathcarron? The talk about Lord Kettering?”

She ignored the grumble from James’ side of the room and watched realization dawn on her brother’s face. Blaire raised her brow meaningfully. How many hints did Aiden need?

“That conversation?”

“Aye,” she ground out. “Now can ye give us a few moments alone?”

“Uh.” Aiden backed up. “Of course. Take yer time.” Then he turned on his heel and quickly disappeared.

“What was that about?” James growled.

Warmth crept up Blaire’s cheeks. She was not about to tell James about that silly conversation with Aiden. She shook her head. “Nothin’, I just needed ta get rid of him.”

The two-hundred-and-fifty-year-old vampyre scoffed. “Do you think I’m that inept? That you can bat those pretty grey eyes at me and I’ll forget that you kept my ring from me? That you and,” he gestured dismissively toward the doorway, “Captain Lindsay have been having mysterious conversations about me?”

Pretty grey eyes? Blaire would like to bask in the compliment, but he was still glaring at her. “It wasna like that.”

“Oh, wasn’t it? You and Captain Lindsay haven’t been discussing what to do with the vampyre under your roof? You haven’t been discussing how to finish the job your mother started by locking me in this godforsaken place to begin with?” He paced the floor, not even bothering to look at her. “You haven’t been discussing what a fool you’ve made of me? You haven’t been—”

“No!” she yelled. “That’s no’ it at all.”

James stopped in his tracks and narrowed his eyes menacingly. “Then what is it?”

She had never felt so mortified in her life. “I told him I thought I could brin’ ye up ta scratch.” It came out as a whisper, and she couldn’t look him in the eyes.

In a flash he stood before her. “What did you say?”

Was he going to make her repeat it? Not in this lifetime. Blaire shook her head. “He wanted ta throw ye out, and I had ta find a way ta stop him. It was the only thing I could think of.”

With the crook of his finger, James tipped her chin back until she met his eyes. “Are you saying your brother would grant his blessing to a
vampyre
?”

Could she be more mortified? “Aiden doesna ken ye’re a vampyre. And
if
he believed me, I’m sure he couldna care less.”

A strange look crossed James’ face, and Blaire had no idea how to interpret his expression. “You think it wouldn’t matter to your brother if you…married a vampyre? Does he care so little for your safety?”

“That’s no’ it.” Blaire shook free of his grasp and stepped away from James. He was too close, and the questions he was asking were too humiliating.

“Then tell me,” he urged from behind her.

Blaire simply shook her head.

“Answer me, Blaire.”

She didn’t have to answer his questions. She started for the door, but before she reached it, he was standing before her. Blaire glared at him. “Ye’re in my way.”

“You’re not going anywhere until you answer me.”

How dare he behave like a brute? “I doona owe ye anythin’, Kettering. Now, get out of my way.”

He shook his head, and his dark eyes softened. “Tell me that dolt doesn’t think you can’t find a proper husband.”

Pity. That was the look she read in his expression, and it infuriated her. No matter he was right in his estimation. She wouldn’t be pitied by anyone. “Get out of my way, Kettering, or I’ll knock ye on yer obnoxious vampyre arse.”

He tossed back his head and laughed.

What he had to laugh about completely escaped Blaire, and she brushed past the arrogant Sassenach, ready to escape to the safety of her bedchamber.

But he snatched her waist in his hands and tugged her to him. “In all my years, you are the most delightful creature I’ve ever encountered.”

That couldn’t possibly be true.

“You must have droves of men lining up to court you. I’ve wanted to tear MacQuarrie’s head off ever since he arrived just for looking in your direction.”

Baron Kettering had most definitely lost whatever sense he’d previously possessed. “There’s no need ta mock me. I’ve kent Alec MacQuarrie my whole life, and he’s only ever
looked
at Caitrin. So ye can save yer pity.”

The man smirked in response. “Pity? Do you think I pity you?”

She shrugged.

“If I pity anyone, Blaire, it’s me. I should be furious with you, and part of me still is, but the rest of me…” He scratched his jaw. “Well, the rest of me wants things that are impossible. I wish I breathed the same air as you. I wish I could ask Captain Lindsay for his blessing to court you. I wish…”

Did he really want those things? “What do ye wish?” she couldn’t help but ask.
Please tell me what’s in your heart.

“I wish,” James winced, “that I understood what is happening to me. No matter that I should throttle you for lying to me and keeping
m
y ring from me, all I want is to console you and kiss you and taste every inch of you and never let you leave my sight.”

All the air whooshed out of Blaire. She didn’t know what to say. “Oh.”

A self-deprecating smile lit his face. “Are you pitying me?”

“Do ye really mean all those things?” She took a slight step backward.

He inclined his head once. “Fool that I am.”

Blaire glanced down at the ring that now graced his finger. “Is it really yers?”

“Are you saying you didn’t know?”

She shook her head. “Mama said it was passed from one generation ta the next. That I should never remove it. That it could someday save my life.”

“Save your life by keeping me dormant,” James muttered, but she heard it just the same.

“I beg yer pardon?”

James frowned. “They said something that night.”

“The coven?”

“Yes. I asked them why they’d surrounded me, and the blond one said something about my future victims.”

“Future victims?” What had Fiona Macleod seen all those years ago? Had she seen this? The future connection between herself and James? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time Fiona had tried to keep an outsider from entering their circle.

“But I would never hurt you, Blaire.”

And she didn’t doubt the sincerity of the vampyre before her. Perhaps he wasn’t the only fool in the room. “I ken.”

“The same cannot be said of Sarah Reese and Padrig Trevelyan. Instead of bickering amongst ourselves, we should be mapping out our battle plan.”

Battle plan! For the first time that day, Blaire felt useful. “What a wonderful idea. Tell me, James, how does one kill a vampyre?”

***

If anyone had ever told James he’d even consider teaching a pretty little witch how to kill one of his own kind, he’d have sent for a padded coach to take the idiot straight to Bedlam. How things had changed. He was doing more than considering it now. The knowledge could very possibly save Blaire’s life. In fact, he’d wager his immortal soul, if he had one, that she’d need this knowledge in the very near future.

“There are a few ways, actually,” he said slowly, watching the rapt attention on her face as she narrowed her eyes and regarded him with all seriousness.

Her delicate brows lifted playfully when he hesitated. “Do ye plan ta share them with me? Or do ye simply want me ta guess?” Her cheeky grin nearly undid him. He wanted to take her in his arms and find out all the places where she was most ticklish, instead of teaching her the art of war against his own kind.

“If you will be quiet for a moment, I’d be happy to tell you,” he said as he drew her down on the settee beside him. “There are several things you need to know about vampyres.” He took her hand and placed it flat upon his chest. The warmth of her seeped through his shirt. He forced himself to concentrate. “We do not have hearts.”

“I doona believe that, James,” she sighed at him, her fingers curling in to stroke his chest lightly. He felt that touch all the way to his toes. “Ye have a heart. I’m certain of it.”

“If I did, I would give it to you,” he blurted.

Blaire’s cheeks pinkened. But she smiled. God, she had the most beautiful smile.

James cleared his throat. “I-I mean, we
do
have hearts, but they no longer beat, Blaire. Now stop distracting me.”

“I havena done a thing,” she protested, blinking her grey eyes at him coquettishly.

He swiped a hand across his mouth in an attempt to fight back his incisors, which threatened to descend at her very nearness. “That’s about as likely as your brother giving me leave to court you properly,” he chuckled. “You’re a minx, and you know it.”

“Do ye plan ta insult me all night? Or teach me how ta kill a vampyre? On with it, already,” she prompted.

James smirked at her eagerness. How many women would be enthralled to learn the art of war against the undead? None he’d ever met. No, Blaire Lindsay was one of a kind. He could stay sitting there all evening, simply to bask in her presence. But that wouldn’t help her learn how to defend herself. “We do not have beating hearts,” he repeated, to bring his mind back to the task at hand. “So, you cannot kill us by stopping our hearts. Mine stopped beating a very, very long time ago.”

She nodded as though she understood.

“We can also heal ourselves, unless the wound is grave.”

Blaire scrunched up her pert little nose. “What do ye mean by that? Would I have ta chop off an appendage to have any effect at all on yer person?”

James squirmed in his chair. He didn’t like the very idea of his
appendages
being handled in such a manner. There were much better ideas for what she could do with them.

“James?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts. The lass could take his attention unlike anyone ever had.

“The head,” he finally said. “You’d have to chop off our
head
.”

The color leached from her face as she whispered, “Bloody hell.”

“No, a vampyre won’t bleed much,” he teased.

“That is no’ humorous.” She elbowed him in the stomach.

He grunted and bent forward to rub the offended area.

“Anythin’ else?” She leaned closer to him on the settee, her grey eyes sparkling with interest.

If James kept staring at her, he’d never complete this lesson. “Uh, yes.”

“I’m waitin’, James.”

What was he supposed to be telling her?

“What else will kill a vampyre?”

James rose from his spot and tried to shake himself from the enchanting spell she was weaving around him. “A wooden stake to the heart.” Then he frowned. He was supposed to be teaching her how to protect herself, not how to get herself killed. “But stakes are dangerous, because most vampyres could take one from you and then use it to kill you before you’d even realize the danger.”

“They could take it from
me
?” She grinned, laying her delicate little hand on her chest.

She still didn’t realize who and what they were dealing with. “I took you down a moment ago,” he reminded her. “I fear they could do the same.”

Her grin widened and she rose to her feet, closing the distance between them. “Obviously, ye and I are rememberin’ the events of the past few moments differently.”

“I remember having you on top of me,” he chuckled, knowing he shouldn’t encourage her but was helpless to do otherwise. “But my memory of the rest of the encounter now evades me for some reason.”

Blaire brushed hair from his forehead with the tips of her fingers, her mouth so close to him that he could smell the sweet scent of her breath. Her brows pushed together with worry. “When was the last time ye fed, James? Ye look a bit pale.”

He shrugged. “When I was with you.” A fiery blush crept up her cheeks, making him want to toss his head back and laugh at her nervousness. Such an innocent. She could eagerly learn the art of destroying those of his kind, but a simple reminder of what they’d done together had her flustered and speechless. He caught her gaze and held it, and then he slowly leaned forward. “When I pierced your flesh and drank you in,” he whispered beside her ear.

She shivered delicately. She remembered their shared passion just as fondly as he, he’d wager. A cuff to his shoulder was her response, just before she tucked her head into his chest to hide her face.

He tipped her face up with a crooked finger under her chin. “Suddenly shy?” he teased.

“Mortified,” she said quietly as she laid her cheek against his chest and snuggled closer, her arms wrapping around his waist. He could keep her here forever and a day.

“Yet you want to do it again?” he asked softly, waiting for her reaction. She stiffened slightly in his arms but then nodded against his chest and exhaled loudly.

She leaned back to look into his face. “How often do ye need ta feed? We’ve never discussed the details.”

“It depends,” he admitted.

“On?”

“On what pursuits we’re engaged in. If we’re not taxed, we don’t use up what we’ve taken in quite as quickly. I have been fairly lazy of late. Though the sun exposure didn’t help.”

“That’s why ye’re pale?” she asked, her silver eyes clouded with worry, suddenly.

“Yes.” He’d go and find an animal if he had to, though he’d love to sink his teeth into the delectable Blaire Lindsay again. He’d already had her to protect her, to remove the lure that was her innocence in Sarah and Trevelyan’s eyes. But a second time? He wasn’t certain she’d be amenable to being his dinner again, even if he brought her bliss during the course of the event. He felt like the worst sort of cad for even thinking of it.