One With the Night (33 page)

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Authors: Susan Squires

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: One With the Night
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“How clumsy! I have no idea what’s wrong with me,” she said, wiping her cheeks.

“Dinnae ye?” Kilkenny asked, his deep voice soft.

She jerked her stare away from the shattered china. How dare he challenge her? “You mean the fact that my father was murdered two nights ago and I have an evil woman waiting to kill both of us if I do happen to find the cure for the horrible disease that makes me a monster?” She didn’t mention that she might not find the cure and would be separated from him forever by her condition, or that both humans and her fellow monsters wanted to kill her because she was a made vampire. Why heap on consequences?

“Ye need blood. I know th’ signs.” He held her with his gray-green gaze.

“Well, I don’t think the villagers are going to line up to donate even if they don’t quite remember why they think Muir Farm is evil. You noticed that Mrs. Dulnan didn’t come today?”

“Ye dinnae need donations, Jane.”

“I am not going to rip throats like Elyta. I’ll … I’ll find the cure before I need it too badly.” She didn’t believe that. He was standing too close. She could smell the blood on him.

He raised his brows skeptically.

“And … and now I’m going to bed.” Here it was. “And you are coming with me.”

“That is no’ necessary…”

“If you think I’m going to let her talk you into some twisted act of submission, or worse yet, compel you, because she has some need to be serviced every hour on the hour, all while I’m snoring away, you have another think coming, Mr. Kilkenny,” she snapped.

His face softened again. She liked when it did that. And unaccountably, creases appeared around his eyes. “D’ye snore, then?”

“Of course I don’t snore. That was a figure of speech.”

“I’ll wager ye do, and I’ll get nae sleep at all.”

It was she who was likely to get no sleep. Especially if he insisted on touching her, as he was now, turning her around by her elbow and giving her a gentle push to the door. He blew the lamp out. She could feel him following her. She’d toss and turn with worry if he wasn’t in the room with her and she’d get no sleep at all if he was. She sighed. Better he was in the room with her. He would be in no mood to repeat the mistake they’d made at Urquhart Castle, not after what he’d gone through with Elyta. All she had to do was to keep her hands to herself.

*   *   *

She closed the door to her room. “Turn your back,” she commanded. Callan turned obediently. “And don’t you peek.”

“I ha’ seen it before,” he remarked.

“Don’t remind me,” she muttered under her breath.

He was bone-tired, or he wouldn’t have said anything so casually crass. Stupid to remind her of something she regretted so. It still amazed him that she had taken his part against Elyta. The girl had incredible courage. He hoped to God she could find the cure without her notebook. Tonight she’d robbed him of the only way to prevent Elyta from killing her when the cure was found. What could he do to protect her now?

“Sa what’s wrong with Clara tonight?”

“She loves Flavio. Always has. It’s why she serves Elyta, just to be near him.”

Well, that was interesting. “Lucky dog.” If his hearing were better, he’d be able to hear them talking down the hall and know how her feelings were being received even now. Behind him Jane scampered from behind the screen where she was changing and over to the bed. “All right, you can turn around now.”

She swung a quilt around herself, but not before he caught a glimpse of her form inside her thin linen night rail, backlit by the lamp. She curled up in the large wing chair and tucked her feet under her.

“What d’ye think ye’re doin’?”

“I’m settling in for the day.”

“And ye’re wantin’ me ta take yer bed from ye?” He snorted. “I dinnae think sa.”

She looked exasperated. “So, you think you can sit in the chair all day, when you could barely sit through dinner? The only way you’ll get any rest is on your belly.”

She was right about that. “I’ll sleep on the floor, on this rug,” he said, pointing.

“You will not,” she said indignantly. How her violet eyes flashed when she was angry.

He grabbed a pillow and the coverlet folded at the foot of the bed and knelt gingerly on the rug. “I will, unless ye use compulsion on me.” She looked outraged. He turned his face away from her. That was unfair. “Ye might as well go ta bed and be comfortable.”

“If you can be uncomfortable, so can I.” She bit out the words.

“Verra well, then, we’ve got a plan.” He felt his eyes closing of their own accord. He should be thinking of a plan himself. How to get Jane away from Elyta once she found the cure … If she found the cure …

*   *   *

Jane watched him fall asleep, almost while he was still talking to her. He’d pulled the coverlet over himself badly. She sighed, got up, and twitched it over his legs and his right shoulder. She glanced to the bed. She would be more comfortable there, and it obviously made no difference to him, but suddenly sleep was far away. The itch was back in her veins, and the place between her legs began to throb even as she looked at his face, softened by sleep.

And he thought he was a bad man! Stubborn? Yes. Exasperating? Absolutely. But he was so far from bad that he had made a bargain with the devil to save her. Maybe he would have done it for anyone. He might be that much of a knight errant. Or maybe … maybe he felt something for her.

But she couldn’t think about that, not until she had cured herself and they were both on the same side of the chasm. Until then, such thoughts were dangerous.

She curled up in her chair again, and kept her demons at bay by calculating percentages of each ingredient she’d use tomorrow. She’d try making gelatin, but dilute it with alcohol. That might bleach the aspic to the clear state she’d seen in her father’s laboratory.

*   *   *

The liquid not only didn’t turn magenta, it flamed and sent smoke boiling up to the ceiling to join the stains from the last two, similar results. Jane let out an anguished cry. “I’ll never get this right at this rate!” It was perhaps two in the morning.

Kilkenny took her shoulders. “Calm down. Did no’ ye say science takes patience?”

“I … I can’t calm down. It’s the chalky quality that’s missing. I know it is and I just can’t think what to…” Sobs were right there, just beneath her Adam’s apple. And she couldn’t let them come up any farther because scientists didn’t cry. It was just that the itching in her veins had come round to something like pain. She couldn’t think. And his hands on her shoulders weren’t making things better
. Au contraire
.

“Ye know what’s wrong.” His eyes were serious, concerned.

She pulled away. “Let’s not go into this again.”

The fire had burned itself out, leaving a hard, blackened crust in the bottom of the flask.

Flavio wandered in. “My! That’s certainly an interesting smell.” His face glowed, as if all was right with the world. Jane would wager it was because he and Clara had come to an understanding. The thought made her annoyed when she should only be glad for them.

“I’m progressing just about as rottenly as it smells,” she huffed, throwing herself down on a stool. “Which is what you want to ask.” Was she jealous of Clara and Flavio?

“Nonsense, child. I came to say Elyta has gone out. You won’t see her again tonight.”

“She’s probably draining every local in the village,” Jane managed, thrusting up out of her chair and pacing the kitchen.

“I’ve warned her. And it’s better if she sips a little every night, believe me.”

Jane saw him glance to Kilkenny, who shook his head. “And don’t you two conspire against me. I’ll get this formula. I will … and … and then I won’t need any of your damned blood.” This would have been very dramatic, except that she burst into tears.

Flavio took her by the shoulders. “My dear, you’re tired. Did you sleep well today?”

“No,” she said between sobs. “I hardly slept at all.”

“Give your experiments a rest. Go to bed early. Let your mind work the problem in your sleep. Haven’t you retired with a problem, and when you woke up, the solution was right there?”

Jane nodded, sniffling.

“Well, just you go up to your room. And I’ll wager when you awake, you’ll see the problem in a whole new light.” He guided her to the door.

*   *   *

Flavio glanced back over his shoulder as he took Jane out to the staircase. Callan nodded at the monk. He knew what he must do. There was no question of talking her into getting what she needed from some shepherd. He watched her wipe her hands on the white apron she wore over her gray dress as she trudged up the stairs. What would the dour dons at the university in Edinburgh think of a scientist with violet eyes and an apron over her dress?

“I’ll watch Mr. Kilkenny for you,” Flavio soothed from the base of the stairway.

“Yes, but would you ever set yourself against Elyta if she wanted him?” Jane fussed. “You’d better come get me if she returns.” Flavio looked startled, then hurt at her lack of faith.

“I’ll help Clara at the well,” he said grimly as he pushed past Callan.

Callan set his lips and headed after Jane. He’d have to go carefully. He mustn’t frighten her. If she would but let her instincts take over, everything would be fine. But Jane wasn’t a woman to give in to instincts, at least not very often. The image of her, hair undone and wild about her face in the dim tower of Urquhart Castle, sprang to his mind. He pushed it down fiercely. He’d been vampire then and so was she. Now, until the cure was found, they were two different species. One of whom needed something from the other she wouldn’t take. He had to show her what she must know, in case there was no cure. That meant blood and something more, as well. She had to find the joys of taking blood to balance out her horror.

He took off his boots and unwound his cravat. He’d worn it so as not to distract her with the blood pounding in his throat. She was past protection, though. She’d been weakened by the energy she’d expended in the attack of the vampires. She required blood even then. He tossed the cravat on a chair and unbuttoned his waistcoat as he padded silently up the stairs.

She’d know he was coming, of course. There was no hiding from one with hearing as acute as hers. So she was staring at him from her bed as he opened the door. The light from the hallway illuminated her but dimly.

“Go away,” she whispered, but her eyes weren’t sure she wanted that. He closed the door. “I … I’m not safe for you right now.” Her eyes were indigo reflections of the night.

“I’m no’ lookin’ for safety.”

She jerked her gaze away. It darted about the room, looking for alternatives. She put her knuckles to her lips. He stretched himself out beside her. The bed creaked with his weight.

“I should have the strength of character to run from you,” she breathed.

“Ye should ha’ th’ strength ta be who ye are.” Now that she had removed her apron, the tops of her breasts were revealed by the neckline of her dress. They rose and fell, and his cock rose with them. God, but she was beautiful. And she didn’t even seem to know it. Or maybe she just didn’t value it. Being beautiful didn’t fit with being a scientist.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, panting.

“Because I know what ye need.”

“Oh, very well,” she said crossly. “I’ll just drain a bit from Flavio’s wrist into a cup…”

“Ye can no’ drink from a vampire sa much more powerful. Which leaves out Flavio, Clara, and Elyta. I’m yer only choice, unless ye want ta roam th’ hills lookin’ for shepherds.”

She looked around, wild-eyed. “I…”

“Ye canno’ hold out and ye know it.” He knew he was backing her into a corner. There appeared to be no choice. He deliberately softened his voice. “Ye may need ta know how ta get what ye require.” He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers. She shivered. “It can be pleasant for both th’ giver and th’ receiver. Ecstatic even.”

“This is wrong,” she said, moaning into his mouth as he kissed her again lightly.

“No’ wrong. Natural. And with a bit o’ compulsion you can leave them with good memories, thinking better o’ themselves.” He slid his hand around her back and kissed her.
Yer body knows what ye need, Jane. Listen to it,
he thought. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth, not probing, not insistent, but gently caressing. He dared not pull her to him or she would feel the hard shaft of his cock against her belly. So he ran his hand up behind her head. He pulled away from her kiss, lifted his chin, and gently guided her head toward his throat.

How many times had he been violated by Asharti and Elyta while they drank his blood? How defiled he’d felt. Yet now, it was wholly different. He
wanted
Jane to feed from him. He wanted to satisfy her every need. The only problem might be that she would rip his throat as the need overcame her. He couldn’t heal that kind of damage anymore. And he didn’t want to die.

That realization struck him hard. He had been dragging himself through life trying to find value, but not valuing his life, in a kind of joyless desperation. He’d wanted the cure so he could commit suicide if he couldn’t find his way back to a time before he had been twisted by experience. But now, he didn’t care if he could never be the charming rogue he’d been before Asharti. He wanted to live, even as he was. What had changed? He felt Jane’s lips hovering above his throat and knew.

Her body began to tremble. Did she know where the carotid artery was? She had studied medicine surreptitiously by helping her father. She kissed her way round his throat until her breath came hot on his neck just at the right place, under his jaw. She knew, all right. He stroked her hair. She would be feeling the throb of his blood, pulsing against her lips. Her back was straight, tight. Still she resisted. “Ask yer Companion for help,” he whispered. He’d take his chances with death to give Jane what she needed.

Her vibrations cycled up. If he could see her eyes, they would be red. Her canines would have elongated into fangs. He braced for her capitulation and the moment of life and death it would bring. He could feel her panting struggle. “I want this, Jane,” he murmured. It was true.

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