Highland Vampire

by Deborah Raleigh

"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."

  One more such confidence and Efrica feared she would have to walk away or she would scratch the woman's much-praised eyes out. Jealousy tore at her insides. It was madness. Despite the feelings she had just acknowledged, she still felt Jankyn was all wrong for her, so she had no right to resent his finding pleasure elsewhere. This particular pleasure had also been sought before she had even arrived at court. That bit of good sense did little to ease the pain she felt, however.

  "How odd that he hasnae yet arrived to stand guard o'er ye," Lady Eleanor murmured. "I hope he isnae unweel, or hurt."

  There was something in Lady Eleanor's expression that caused Efrica to feel a growing sense of alarm start to cut through her misery and pain. "Jankyn has often been absent from these gatherings."

  "True, yet I thought his need to protect ye had caused him to put an end to his self-imposed exile."

  "He had work to do."

  "Of course. That must be what he tends to now—his work. Ah, there is my good friend Lady Beatrice. I must speak with her. It has been a pleasure speaking with ye, Mistress Callan."

  About as much pleasure as having a tooth drawn, Efrica thought, even as she mumbled a polite farewell. By the look that fleetingly passed over Lady Beatrice's round face as Lady Eleanor approached her, Efrica was sure that Lady Beatrice did not consider the redhead a friend. Efrica would not be surprised to discover that poor Lady Beatrice had a faithless husband or was about to be made to think she did.

  Efrica glanced toward the entrance to the great hall and frowned. Lady Eleanor's words concerning Jankyn's absence troubled her. The woman was well aware that Jankyn had been avoiding the many gatherings at the court, that he had been avoiding her. That touch of concern in the woman's voice had been feigned; of that she had no doubt Was it a warning, or was the mention of Jankyn taking ill or being hurt meant to make Efrica do exactly what she was doing—worry?

  Deciding she would drive herself daft if she did nothing, Efrica looked for David. When she espied him, he was looking toward the entrance to the great hall and frowning. The possibility that he expected Jankyn, knew the man intended to be there, only added to Efrica's unease. She slowly made her way over to where David stood beside a faintly blushing Fiona. To her relief, Fiona moved away to speak to her mother just as Efrica reached David's side.

  "David, did your father say he would be here tonight?" she asked.

  "Aye," he replied. "I was just wondering what might be keeping him."

  After a moment of thought, Efrica told him what Lady Eleanor had said and explained why it bothered her. "All things considered, it was probably just said to make me worry, and yet—"

  "Exactly. And yet. Just let me tell Fiona that I must leave but will return soon, and I will go with ye to find him."

  A moment later, David was escorting her out of the great hall. The fact that he felt the need to reassure himself concerning his father's well-being made Efrica feel better about her own sense of unease. At least she would not look so foolish if Jankyn's absence proved to have a simple explanation.

  "Mayhap he became caught up in his work," she said, slipping her arm through David's as they started down a dimly lit corridor.

  "Nay. He was just about to bathe when I was prepared to leave. He told me to keep an eye on ye until he could get there. E'en though I kenned Lady Eleanor wouldnae be pleasant to ye, I didnae see her as any threat." He blushed. "After my father turned away from her, she tried to crawl into my bed. Thought to hurt my father, or insult him, I suspect."

  "Och, David! Ye didnae!"

  "Nay! ‘Twas a sore temptation, I admit, but I had already met Fiona and suspected she was the lass I have been s
earching for. I didnae want that adder slinking up to Fiona and whispering poison in her ear. I suspicion that is what Lady Eleanor was doing to ye, aye?"

  "Weel, aye, but I ken that your father is bound to no one. 'Tis his business what he does and no one else's." She scowled at him when he snorted.

  "Lie to yourself if ye wish, Efrica Callan, but dinnae expect anyone to believe it. Ye and my father fair stink of wanting whene'er ye come within sight of each other." He grinned briefly when she gasped in shock. "Dinnae get all outraged. I wasnae speaking of lusting alone, but that greater sort of wanting, lust being only a wee part of it. I dinnae ken why the two of ye dinnae stop all this dancing about and just settle down to it."

  "Your father doesnae need another woman. He has had far more than his share already."

  "Ach, Effie, ye ken as weel as I that those women meant naught to him. If one did, he would still be with her, wouldnae he. Ye also ken that the MacNachtons are free with their favors until they find their mates." He shrugged. "Nature of the beast, I suppose."

  "Ye werenae."

  "I was, though nay as free as some. But I came here to find a wife, aye? My father didnae, and trust me in this, he didnae do any wooing, or seducing, either. Nay, 'twas offered up to him from the first time he walked into the great hall. Coyly or boldly, but most decidedly freely. Being a mon with no ties, he accepted. If the two of ye would cease playing whate'er strange game ye are playing, there would be no more offers accepted."

  "I love the sun," she whispered, unable to deny David's insights.

  David stopped and looked at her, his hands on his hips. "So does Bridget and her bairns. Whene'er the sun deigns to shine, they go outside. I thought ye accepted what we are."

  "Dinnae be an idiot. Of course I—" She tensed and grasped him by the arm. "Did ye hear that?" she asked, but could sense by the tension in his body that he did. "Steel on steel."

  "Your ears are sharper than mine, I think. From what direction does it come?"

  After listening carefully for a moment, Efrica gasped. "From the direction of Jankyn's chambers."

  David disappeared into the shadows and began to move with a silent speed that deeply impressed Efrica, who was hard-pressed to keep up with him. It was definitely a MacNachton trait one could envy. She nearly ran into him when he stopped abruptly. Peering around him, she almost cried out and ran past him. Jankyn was fighting with three men. Another man was already sprawled upon the floor and it looked as if he was dead, or would be soon. They all had the look of hired swords, and Efrica had little doubt in her mind as to who had hired them. When she realized that Jankyn was fighting them in the manner any man would do, using few of the skills the MacNachton blood gifted him with, she nearly cursed. Even his expression, though feral in many ways, was controlled. He obviously feared being caught doing what MacNachtons did so well—putting the fear of God into their enemies. And that, she suddenly understood, was why David had halted, and still hesitated.

  "Go," she hissed. "Do what ye do best and free your father to do the same. I will warn ye if anyone approaches."

  "Can ye do that?"

  "Aye. If I but set my mind to it, I can tell ye who just belched in the great hall. Go."

  Efrica nearly missed David's attack, so swiftly did he move. Although that ever-curious part of her wanted to watch the battle, she turned her mind to protecting the MacNachtons' backs. Better than anyone in her family, she was able to ignore sounds she recognized as no threat to her, and listen for the others. Her boast to David had been an exaggeration, but not by very much. She did not expect the battle to last much longer anyway. Once David and his father turned the full MacNachton ferocity upon their foes, those men who did not die would run screaming into the night.

  Silence alerted her to the end of the battle. Since she stood at the only way out of this corridor and no one had run past her, Efrica decided that two MacNachtons in their full glory were more than enough to defeat four mercenaries. When she turned to join the victors, she saw David crouched by Jankyn, who sat upon the floor with his back against the wall. She suddenly recalled her sister telling her that the MacNachtons were not actually immortal, that they just lived so long it was easy to think they were. Bridget had also told her that the MacNachtons were very hard to kill, but that it could be done, and had told her how. The loss of too much blood, too rapidly, was one, Efrica recalled and ran to Jankyn's side.

  "Curse it, Father, when did ye become so particular?" snapped David as she knelt next to Jankyn.

  Efrica was appalled by the number of wounds Jankyn had suffered. David had bared Jankyn's chest and she counted three wounds there. There was blood upon his leggings as well, and the slow drip of blood sounding from behind him indicated there was at least one wound upon his back. What truly alarmed her, however, was that the wounds showed no sign of closing. His Pureblood body should have already been starting to heal itself. Efrica could even recall Bridget telling her of how she had once badly scored Jankyn's face with her nails when he had startled her and had watched those wounds close right before her eyes. Efrica saw no hint of this miracle.

  Then, suddenly, she understood what the problem was. Jankyn had lost too much blood to heal himself. He needed blood, and by the looks of the bodies strewn around them, neither he nor David had taken any from the men. Except for the man who had been felled by Jankyn's sword and barely clung to life, the other three men had been killed very cleanly. Efrica suspected it was done that way to avoid any chance someone might see the bodies and talk. As she stood up, she wondered why she felt no qualms about what she was going to suggest, then realized that it was because these mercenaries had intended to murder Jankyn. The least the barely surviving mercenary could do before he died was give Jankyn back the life he had been so eager to take away.

  "That one still lives," she said calmly, pointing to the man Jankyn had defeated with his sword and ignoring the wary looks both father and son gave her. "I can hear the death rattle building in his throat so I wouldnae dither about for too long."

  "I thought he might already be dead," murmured Jankyn.

  "Nay, there is yet life in him, but 'tis fading fast. I will wait for ye in your chambers."

  She hurried the few feet to his door and entered his room. As she shut the door behind her, she caught a fleeting glimpse of David nearly dragging his father toward the dying man. For a moment she feared she had done or said something to make Jankyn so reluctant to do what he needed to save his own life, but quickly shook off that guilt. She was certain she had not, but Jankyn was probably well aware of how unsettling Outsiders found such needs. She hoped he would soon realize she was not one of those. It was now very important to her that Jankyn knew she accepted him for all that he was.

  Chapter Eight

  Jankyn grimaced with distaste as he and David quietly let the last mercenary's body slip into the water. It had not been easy to get all four bodies out of the castle, but luck had been on their side. Not only had no one seen them within the castle, but the foul night weather had hidden the moon, giving them all the shadows they needed to hide in as they took the bodies to the burn not far from the castle walls. The bodies would be quickly discovered as the burn was not deep, but only the one who had hired the men would be able to guess what had happened to them.

  "I cannae believe ye were just going to let yourself die," muttered David as they hurried back to the castle.

  "Weel, I dinnae think I would have died," Jankyn said. "We could have tended the wounds to slow the bleeding, and with a lot of my wine, I—"

  "Would have died. E'en now ye arenae at your full strength. If ye were, toting two bodies to the burn wouldnae have made ye sweat. Why? Because Effie was there?"

  Jankyn sighed. "Aye and nay. Think, David. Think on how the rumors would fly if four men were found with their throats savaged. Such things stir up fear and superstition. Once the whispers begin, so does the search for anyone who is different. This time that could weel include Efrica and her cousin. The
re are two men at court who have seen up close how a Callan can behave when attacked. Aye, and the same two men might begin to wonder how I could toss them about with such ease. S'truth, according to Malcolm, there are already whispers seeping through the court."

  David cursed, then frowned. "So, it wasnae because Efrica might have seen ye feed?"

  For a moment, Jankyn considered lying to his son, then inwardly shook his head. "'Tis a difficult thing for Outsiders to watch. It marks us too strongly as predators, and marks them as prey. Trust me in this, there is naught that frightens a person more than the thought that they are the meal. E'en I have felt that fear chill my blood when a wolf howls in the night. 'Tis one that is bred in the bone, one that probably goes back into the dark mists of time when people were undoubtedly more the prey than the predator. I suppose I didnae want to see that fear in Efrica's eyes or have her look at me as if I were more beast than mon. Howbeit, as that chill began to seep into my emptying veins, the one that too often foreshadows death, I was beginning to think myself a great fool for hesitating."

  "And then she told ye to get on with it."

  As they stepped inside the castle, out of the rain, Jankyn paused to squeeze some of the water from his clothes and hair while David did the same. "Aye, she did. Yet she left, didnae stay with me."

  "I think she did that for your sake. She is a clever lass and she kens a lot about us. I suspicion she quickly guessed what ye needed and then why ye were nay taking it She let ye ken she was aware of what ye needed to do to heal yourself, then gave ye the privacy ye seemed to want."

  "Weel, aye, I suppose she did. That was kind of her." He looked at his son in surprise when David cursed.

  "The two of ye are enough to make a person daft. She is your mate, isnae she."

  "David—"

  "Aye, she is. So why do ye nay woo her and claim her?"

  "Because I believe it would be unkind and curse us both in the end. Aye, there could be compromises made, as Cathal has made for Bridget, but there is one thing Efrica wants and needs that I may ne'er be able to give her."