Winter's Touch (Immortal Touch Series) (32 page)

“It’s just me,” a familiar voice reassured her before stepping into the pale glow of the lantern. “Sorry,
I dinnae mean to sneak up on ye.”

Eva’s hand flew to her chest and she released a long breath. “Oh, God. Kade. You scared the
hell
out of me!”

“Sorry, sorry
...” he repeated, looking questioningly down at the small hollow she’d created, then at the shovel in her hands.

“What are you
doing
out here?” she demanded. “Trying to give me a heart attack?”

“
I might ask ye the same thing.” He shook his head in consternation. “I followed ye. Ye were behavin’ a wee bit irrationally, and I was worried. Eva, what
are
ye doin’?”

“Digging, what does it look like?”

“I can see that! Might I know why?” To her surprise, he took the shovel from her hands and thrust it into the ground. With his masculine strength, he proved to be much more productive than she’d been.

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“I’m beginnin’ to think that already. Does this have anythin’ to do wi’ all yer questions about vampires?”

“Sort of.”

He gave her a firm look. “What’s buried here, exactly?”

Eva relented. “Okay.
All right. Now don’t freak out or anything but...it just might be the man who killed your uncle.”

“
Holy shyte!
Are ye tellin’ me there’s somebody
buried
here? Is that what ye’re tellin’ me? Jesus, Eva!”

“See, I knew you’d freak out.”

“What did ye expect? I thought maybe ye were searchin’ for buried treasure or the like. Not rotting corpses!”

“Well, technically he should be just a skeleton by now.”

“I know I’m goin’ to regret askin’ this. I
know
it. But clue me in anyway.
Why
are we out here in the middle o’ the night diggin’ up a dead man?”

“He has something on him I want.”

“And what might that be, pray tell?”

“Just something very important to me. That’s all
I can tell you.”

He leaned on the shovel’s handle and
rested his eyes on her. After a moment of deliberation, he gave in with a resigned shrug. “Awrite, lassie. If it’s really that important to ye, then I’ll help. We’ll be here all night otherwise.”

Elated, Eva
threw her arms around his neck and gave him a squeeze. “Kade, you’re the best! The absolute best! Thank you - you can’t possibly know how much this means to me.”

In the stillness of the witching hour, t
he dirt continued to fly and the trees resumed their laughter.

~
*~*~

Surveying the house
with bloodshot eyes, Alistair Guthrie took another swig from his flask of whisky and staggered unsteadily forward. Hopefully the woman wouldn’t have any reservations about opening the door to him, as kicking it in would be a tricky maneuver in his current condition. And damn, but it was black as the Earl of Hell’s waistcoat out tonight! Earlier in the evening he would have relished the task at hand, particularly since he’d always viewed the woman as a self-righteous busybody. But it was far too late and he was far too drunk for this.

However,
he had his orders. And soon Lainie Forbes would be one dead busybody.

After all, Edan demanded it.

And the vampire always had his way.

~
*~*~

“Do you see anything yet?” Eva leaned forward, straining to catch a glimpse of anything that might resemble
a skeleton. So far, all she could see was a whole lot of nothing.

“Nae, nothin
’. Ye’re sure this was the right spot?”

“It
must
be. Unless Lainie was mistaken...”

“She
better nae be. Hate to think I spent the last hour goin’ three feet down in the wrong...hold on. Wait a minute here.” Kneeling and leaning forward, Kade reached before him to brush the dirt carefully aside with his hand. “I’ll be damned. Hold the lantern down some, will ye?”

Shivering
with anticipation, she held the lantern down so she could see what it was that caught the man’s attention. And almost dropped it.

Embedded
in the coarse soil, shrouded in tattered, disintegrating fabric, was an unmistakable length of grayish bone. The remains of the unknown Welshman.

“Looks like we found what ye were lookin
’ for.” He straightened and stepped out of the hole, brushing his hands on his trousers. “Ye did fine, lassie.”

“You’re the one who did all the work,” she contradicted, still holding the lantern and gazing
with morbid fascination at the uncovered bit of skeleton. “Did you see anything else down there?”

No
answer from him. Nothing but the wind.

“Kade?”

His laugh came unexpectedly, a harsh and guttural sound. “Ye really are a stupid slag, arenae ye?”

It took a moment for the words to register, and when they did her fingers released their hold on the lantern. It tumbled into the hole with the dead man, illuminating the shallow pit as she turned slowly to face the man who, in a single
breath, had become an obscenity. Her body trembled.

“Do ye know the definition o
’ irony, Eva?” Without waiting for a response, he continued. “I’ll tell ye. It’s lookin’ for somethin’ for three feckin’ decades when all the while it was right underneath yer nose.”

“What are you talking about?” she whispered, confused. “Kade
...”

“The name’s Edan, actually.
I changed it after returnin’ to Scotland. Amazin’ how many people swore that Alistair’s bastard son was the spittin’ image o’ his dead brother. O’ course, there
is
no prodigal son, but nobody needs to know that, noo do they?”

Overcome
with intensifying dread, Eva struggled desperately to comprehend what was happening. “You’re Alistair’s
brother?
”

“In the flesh.”

“So then...you...
were
murdered by the same man.” Which meant...

Oh,
shit.

“
I had to wonder why ye were askin’ my brother those questions. And then yer talk o’ vampires and such...weel lassie, it was
most
enlightenin’, I must say. Ye told me more than I e’er expected to learn. So there was another victim, then? And he put an end to this one. Always did wonder what became o’ the filthy sheep shagger. He was gone when I woke, y’see. Searched for him, but it was nae use. And then I left the area before anyone could discover that I was alive. It’s so much easier to get away wi’ murder when everyone thinks ye’re dead.

“I
willnae bother askin’ ye where the second victim is. It makes nae difference to me. All I want is the dagger. That and a taste o’ yer sweet blood, o’ course.”

Panicking
, Eva stalled. “Why do you need the dagger? To cure yourself? I can help you, Kade! We can...we can figure it out together. Let me help you, please...I know you don’t want to hurt me.”

“It’s Edan. And do ye really think I give two shytes whether y
e’re hurt or nae? Let me set somethin’ straight wi’ ye, daftie. The legend o’ the dagger is real. It does have the ability to turn a man into somethin’ supernatural, as ye can see for yerself. But I’m afraid I lied to ye about it bein’ able to reverse vampirism. The only cure for that is death, and the dagger is the only sure thing that can deliver it. So ye see noo why I want the cursed thing for myself, don’t ye? It’s the one thing that could destroy me. And we cannae have that, can we?”

“It was a lie?” Shattered,
her body became immobilized as every drop of hope ran from her like water down a drain. It had all been for nothing. It was all for nothing.

“I figured if ye saw it as a cure, y
e’d go lookin’ for it. And I was right, wasnae I? Ye led me straight to it.” He was peeling off her gloves as he spoke, tossing them aside. “Ye smell delicious, Eva. Did ye know that ye have a very rare blood type? A fringe benefit, I’d call it.” Unzipping her coat, he pulled that and her scarf from her and flung them onto the ground with the gloves. Numb with despair, she barely felt the cold.

“By the way, ye
willnae have to worry about dear Lainie grievin’ for ye. I sent my brother to take care o’ her.”

Eva collapsed to her knees on the hard ground, stricken. “
No...
”

“Yes.” Edan appeared to be enjoying her misery immensely. “But n
ae to worry. Ye’ll soon be joinin’ her.”

Slamming
her roughly against the ground, he straddled her and leaned forward to inhale her scent, prolonging his ecstasy. “Noo that’s what I call five star cuisine. Any last words, my bonnie lass?”

Delirious with grief and terror,
her wide green eyes remained fixed on the night sky above her. Not a single star emerged from the pitiless clouds to bid her farewell. Whispering in her memory was the beautiful music of Julian’s love for her. “I can hear the requiem,” she murmured softly.

“
All ye hear is death comin’ for ye,” Edan sneered before ripping savagely into her throat.

She drowned in her own blood there in
Abernethy Forest, forsaken and alone while her killer relished the taste of her life as it flowed freely from her torn veins. The last image that sprang to Evangeline Rowan Spencer’s mind before she died was that of her blond angel.

And then
she was gone.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Melodramatic Death of Alistair Guthrie

Julian arrived at the cottage
in Nethy Bridge to find the front door wide open to the freezing wind and Lainie lying crumpled and motionless on the floor. Storming desperately through the house, he called to Eva but other than an open suitcase on the bed in the spare room, there was no sign of her.

Frantic, he knelt beside Lainie and felt for a pulse. To his relief it
was steady and strong, and she groaned and reached for the gash on her side of her head. Her eyes fluttered open. “Jules. Ye’re here.” Her words were slurred.

“What the hell happened? Where’s Eva?” he almost shouted.

“Alistair.”

“What?”

“Alistair Guthrie. He came here full o’ liquor an’ clocked me on the head wi’ somethin’.” She sat up and winced. “Damn, that hurts. The bastard. Wait ‘til I...”

“
Lainie, where is Eva? Where is she?
”

Her eyes grew fearful. “She went to the old cemetery, where the grave is. Do y
e think somethin’ might’ve...”

“Stay here!
Don’t move!” Julian flew out of the house without bothering to ask what the bloody hell the girl was doing on the outskirts of the forest in the middle of the night. A sick intuition told him that whatever it was, it was bound to have disastrous consequences. For some reason an idle thought he’d had fifteen years ago returned to his consciousness...his notion that her trusting fearlessness would have her dead before she was six years old.

Why
in God’s name did he remember that just now?

The field separating
them seemed to go on for miles, seemed to stretch farther with every vault he made. The minutes that typically raced by so quickly for him now chose instead to stand still. After what felt like hours, the remains of the cemetery came into view. No sign of her there - she must have gone into the woods, to his grave. What the hell for? Why had she come here?

He wasn’t prepared for the gruesome sight that
halted him in his tracks.

It was her.
God Almighty, it was her.

She lay
sprawled on the unforgiving ground with her limp arms akimbo, white as the snow she loved so much, her beautiful auburn hair splayed out about her. Throat mutilated. Black lace drenched with her own sweet-smelling blood. Empty of breath. Dead.

His Eva was
dead
.

Inside the
unearthed grave, her murderer straightened from what he was doing to throw him a contemptuous glare. “Who the feck are
yoo?
” he snarled, stepping out of the hollow to assume a defensive stance. His lips were stained with blood. Her blood.

Her life.

His
life.

A primal howl ripped through the silence of the night as he threw himself at the monster with a fury that burned hotter than the
deepest fires of hell. Vengeance was all that was left of him now and he wielded it with all the vindictive might that she deserved.

Taken off guard, the stranger was easily
sent careening into a tree but recovered just in time to elude his aggressor. Enraged at the audacity of this lithe creature, he managed to land a crushing blow that snapped a few ribs. It should have been an excruciating impairment, but desensitized by his overwrought anguish and frenzy of adrenaline, Julian felt no pain.