Highland Vampire

by Deborah Raleigh

  Stunned by the unexpected attack, Isobella scrambled to her feet, searching the darkness for the attacker. Not that she could hope to battle whatever had so easily defeated her burly father. She had not even thought to bring her dirk.

  For a moment she could see nothing, and then a shadow flowed toward her father's unconscious form.

  She could make out no features, but a familiar flare of heat warned her precisely who the intruder was.

  "Bane," she croaked. "No."

  The shadow stilled, almost as if determined to ignore her plea.

  "He hit ye," Bane rasped.

  Isobella caught her breath at the icy danger that pulsed in the air. She did not doubt that her father's life was hanging in the very balance.

  "’Twas nothing," she said softly.

  "Nothing?" With unnerving swiftness, he was standing before her, his fingers cupping her chin to tilt her face upward. "Ye are bleeding."

  "Nay. It has already stopped."

  "He hurt ye, and I will kill him for that."

  "No." She reached out to grasp his arms. "He is my father."

  The silver eyes were flat with fury, his beautiful features set in lines that nearly made her heart stop.

  "A father who raises a hand against his own daughter?"

  "He believes that he was suitably provoked."

  He hissed in disgust. "Bah… the man is a dog. Without honor and without courage."

  Isobella lowered her gaze. How could she deny the charges? Her father was a self-indulgent man who cared more for his own pleasures than tending to his duties. Or even his own daughters. Still, she could not stand aside and allow him to be slain.

  "Say what ye will, he is still my father," she said in quiet tones.

  A growl rumbled deep in Bane's throat. "Yer father he may be, but if he strikes ye again, I will see him in his grave."

  Slowly she raised her lashes, meeting his fierce gaze with a frown. "Why?"

  A heartbeat passed before his expression gentled and he cupped her face between his hands.

  "I cannae bear to see ye in pain," he murmured, his thumb tracing over the deep cut in her lip.

  There was the predictable tingle of pleasure at his touch, but there was something more. Reaching out her tongue, Isobella lightly touched her lip. Her breath caught in her throat. By all the saints, it was completely healed.

  Her eyes widened. "Bane, how… ?"

  He smiled faintly as he reached out to scoop her into his arms and hold her against his chest.

  "It is too cold for ye to be out here."

  She gave a choked gasp as he easily carried her through the heavy darkness. He never hesitated or stumbled as he weaved his way through the trees.

  "What are ye doing?"

  "Ensuring ye are returned to yer chambers safely." His gaze swept to her lips. "I will not have ye set upon again."

  If it were any other man, she would have been loudly protesting being carried as a mere child. Her independent nature did not encourage others to fuss over her. But Bane was no mere man, and rather than the prickly annoyance she should have been feeling, a warm sense of peace flooded through her.

  A peace she could not recall ever feeling before in her life.

  Sweet Mary, she was obviously demented.

  Isobella grimaced. "'Tis becoming a familiar happenstance."

  His lips thinned. "No longer. I assure ye that neither yer father nor any other man will lift a hand toward ye again."

  Isobella did not doubt him. There was an edge of menace in his voice, assuring her that he would most certainly punish anyone foolish enough to trouble her. Which was absurd.

  Was he not an enemy of her clan? Was he not here to assist the Beast in capturing her sister?

  It made no sense for him to cuddle her against him as if she were his beloved. Or to threaten retribution on those who would offer her harm.

  "Och, ye are the most devilish creature," she muttered in exasperation.

  His gaze swept her countenance. "True enough, but surely I have done nothing to be so condemned by ye, Isobella?"

  She furrowed her brows, cursing herself for the pleasure she discovered at simply being held so close to his large form.

  "I ken very well ye're some sort of magical creature. And I suspect that ye have knowledge of the Beast. Why am I not attempting to kill ye?"

  "Ye desire to kill me?"

  Of course she had no desire to kill him. That was the problem, she acknowledged with a pang. When he was near, she could not convince herself that he was a monster.

  Could a ruthless fiend treat her with such tender concern? Could his touch make her ache with such sweet longing?

  It seemed impossible.

  "'Tis what I should desire."

  The silver eyes abruptly shimmered. "Shall I reveal what I desire?"

  The soft rasp of his voice sent a shiver of excitement through her. He did not have to tell her. She could feel it in the very air.

  "Ye willnae distract me with yer kisses," she warned, hoping he could not sense the flutter of her heart. "I will discover what ye are."

  He gave a slow shake of his head. "Nay, I shall not allow ye to do so."

  "What do ye fear?"

  His lips twisted in a humorless smile. "More than I should."

  Coming to the halt at the edge of the forest, he slowly lowered her to her feet. He studied her countenance for a long moment, his dark thoughts unreadable. In silence he turned to leave, and Isobella felt her heart clench in disappointment.

  Ye are daft, Isobella Foster, she told herself even as she heard Bane give a low curse. Before she could react, he had swiftly turned, and grasping her cloak, he tugged her roughly against him.

  "Bane…" she breathed before his mouth caught her own in a kiss stark with hunger.

  The world was still spinning when he lifted his head to regard her with glittering eyes.

  "Return to yer chambers and lock the door," he husked. "And nay return to the glen. I dinnae possess the strength to let ye escape again."

  Chapter Four

  Isobella had always been stubborn, but she was not entirely daft. Bane had warned her to return to her chambers and lock the door, and that was precisely what she did.

  Unfortunately a locked door did not bring an end to the fierce craving that continued to plague her. Nor ease the sharp pain that seared through her as she sensed him moving ever farther away.

  For hours she paced the floor, battling every instinct that urged her to flee the protection of the castle and return to the misty glen and her silver-eyed stranger.

  "A pox upon the man and his devious spells," she muttered, even as a renegade doubt settled in her heart.

  What if it wasn't a spell? it whispered. What if this… magic was simply what happened between a man and a woman? What if it did not fade but continued to haunt her night after night?

  It was that horrible thought that had led her to crawl beneath her sheets and cover her head with her pillow.

  Nay. She would not allow the man to distract her from Katherine. She could not. Be it spell or female foolishness, she had to put him from her thoughts.

  For all her determination, dawn was brushing the sky when at last Isobella tumbled into troubled sleep. And even then her dreams were a frustrating maze as she wandered through a vast castle, running down endless corridors that led to the same shadowed chamber. A chamber she knew harbored a monster with silver eyes.

  Not surprisingly she awoke in the late afternoon feeling wearier than when she had taken to her bed.

  Calling for her bath and dressing in a simple woolen gown, Isobella grimly left the smothering confines of her rooms. She was not so reckless as to risk returning to the glen, but that did not mean she could not attempt some other means of rescuing her sister.

  There had to be some manner; it was all a matter of knowing where to search.

  Collecting her cloak, she pulled open her door, only to discover her sister in the hall lying in wait for her.
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  "Isobella, I wish to speak with ye."

  With a strained smile, Isobella tugged the cloak about her.

  "Forgive me, Katherine, but I am in somewhat of a hurry."

  Katherine remained firmly blocking the doorway, her arms crossed in an obvious display of stubborn determination.

  "Nay, ye arenae leaving these chambers until ye tell me what occurred last eve."

  "Last eve?"

  "Isobella, I was in the great hall when they carried Father in," Katherine clarified. "They said they found him in the forest badly injured."

  Isobella abruptly turned to hide her countenance. She recalled all too well her father's drunken fury and the manner in which Bane had rushed to her rescue.

  "Not so badly. A few bruises 'tis all."

  "They also say that he claimed he had gone to slay the Beast and was attacked."

  Isobella gave a humorless laugh. By the saints, only her father could find a means to glorify his own spectacular defeat.

  "He went to slay the Beast? How very courageous of him. I did not believe he possessed the spirit."

  "He does not, as we both very well know," Katherine retorted dryly. "If he were in the forest, it was not to slay any beast."

  Isobella bit her lip, already suspecting where her sister was leading her.

  "Perhaps he was in his cups and lost his way," she muttered.

  "He was in search of ye."

  "Of me? Why would ye think such a daft thing?"

  Stepping into the room, Katherine tugged Isobella about to meet her searching gaze.

  "Because he stormed through the halls last eve bellowing for ye in a drunken fury. He nearly tore apart yer chambers when ye could not be found. Janet at last confessed she had seen ye leaving the grounds just before dusk."

  "Janet," Isobella breathed. The elderly servant was no doubt also responsible for spreading rumors among the castle that she was on the hunt of the Beast "I should have known."

  "She is concerned for ye."

  "Aye. I know."

  "As am I." With a frown, Katherine tightly grasped her shoulders. "Isobella, what were ye doing in the forest?"

  Isobella closed her eyes as she heaved a weary sigh. "In truth, I am not entirely certain."

  Katherine gave her a slight shake. "Ye were searching for the Beast, were ye not?"

  Lifting her lashes, Isobella smiled wryly. She could only wish that her motives had been so pure and noble. Unfortunately she very much feared that it was the dark desire that had lured her to the mist. And the memory of Bane's searing kisses and lingering touch.

  Her thoughts had not been on Katherine or the Beast or anything else in that moment.

  "That is what I am attempting to convince myself."

  "Why must ye be so stubborn? Do ye truly believe allowing yerself to be slain will save me from my destiny?"

  "As ye see, I was not slain."

  "None of yer jests." Her sister's anger abruptly faded as she regarded Isobella with a heartrending concern. "I will not have it, Isobella. I could not bear anything to happen to ye."

  Isobella reached up to grasp her sister's hands and squeezed them tightly.

  "Do ye believe I feel any differently?" she demanded. "Ye are the most precious thing in the world to me. I will not lose ye without a fight." She abruptly grimaced. "Not that I have managed to do more than make a fool of myself."

  "A fool?"

  "'Tis nothing." Isobella blew a stray curl from her forehead, regarding her sister with a hint of uncertainty. At last she squared her shoulders. "Katherine?"

  "Aye?"

  "Have ye ever been in love?"

  Not surprisingly, her sister was caught off guard by the abrupt question.

  "What?"

  Isobella shifted uneasily. She had never been one to dwell upon romantic notions or flutter over a handsome man. It had all seemed a foolish sort of business to a woman of sound wits.

  Now she felt as awkward as if she were walking blindfolded through a bog.

  "Is there a man that causes yer heart to leap when he walks into the room?"

  Astonishingly, a pretty blush touched Katherine's cheeks. "I have always thought Douglas a fine man."

  "Douglas?" It took a moment for Isobella's eyes to widen in disbelief. "The blacksmith?"

  The blush deepened. "I ken he is not of our station, and that father would never allow him to court me, but he is gentle and kind and he only has to walk into a room to touch my very heart."

  Touch my very heart…

  Isobella's breath was wrenched from her throat. That was it. That was what Bane had managed to do with one glance, one softly spoken word, one caress.

  It should be impossible. She was not even sure who or what he was. But she could not deny the truth.

  "Have ye allowed him to kiss ye?"

  "Isobella," Katherine breathed in embarrassment.

  "Well?"

  Dropping her gaze, her sister allowed a mysterious smile to curve her lips.

  "Only once. It was after the spring fair and he escorted me back to the castle."

  "And ye enjoyed it?"

  Her smile widened. "It was the most wonderful moment in my life."

  Och, yes. So wondrous that it stole a woman's very wits.

  "What did ye feel?"

  "My heart was beating so swiftly I thought it might leap from my chest and my palms became sweaty. And…"

  "What?"

  Katherine pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks. "I possessed the most embarrassing urge to rip off my clothes so that I could feel his hands upon my skin," she confessed in low tones. "Shocking, is it not?"

  Isobella smiled wryly, recalling precisely how magical it had been to have Bane's hands upon her bare skin. And how she still ached with unfulfilled desire.

  "Not so shocking," she muttered.

  A frown touched her sister's brow as she slowly lowered her hands.

  "Isobella, have ye discovered some man whom ye desire?"

  Isobella clenched her hands at her sides. She had wanted to believe the power Bane held over her was a spell. Some bewitchment that could steal her will and force her to do his bidding.

  It would be far easier to forgive herself for her treacherous feelings.

  "I wish it were so simple," she admitted in weary tones.

  Katherine eyed her with open concern. "My love, what is it?"

  Squaring her shoulders, Isobella gave a shake of her head. Time was slipping away. She could waste no more.

  "I really must go, Katherine."

  "Where are ye going?"

  "To the village." Moving forward, Isobella gently kissed her sister before hurrying toward the door. "I shall return as soon as I am able."

  Pausing only long enough to gather a wedge of cheese from the kitchens to ease her hunger, Isobella hurried from the castle and traveled the well-worn path to the village. Her hurried pace was predictably slowed as she came to the tightly packed shops and cottages.

  She had devoted a considerable amount of her own wealth and efforts to helping the various merchants and craftsmen establish their various trades. It was difficult to walk down the street without being pulled aside to admire a newly fired urn or taste of a freshly baked pie. Or to remark upon a baby's new tooth.

  As a rule, she enjoyed her visits to the village. She enjoyed being among those who valued her opinion and did not consider her strong will an embarrassing fault, but rather something to be rejoiced.

  Today, however, she found herself increasingly impatient with those who crowded about her. She needed to be left in peace so she could be about her business. She needed to be done before night fell and she might risk encountering Bane once again.

  At last having greeted all who approached and promised to consider the handful of problems that were always brought to her, Isobella was able to slip away and continue her path to the jagged hills beyond the cottages.

  Silence cloaked about her as the moorland was left behind and she climbed ever upward. The
surroundings were harsh but beautiful in their simple way, and Isobella paused for a moment to appreciate the sight of her father's castle below and the distant loch.

  The untamed wilderness appealed to her Scots blood, but it was rare that she ever traveled beyond the village. As with the misty glen, these hills were shadowed by the Beast, and only the most daring would linger among the heather.

  Giving a small shake of her head, Isobella returned her straying attention to the matter at hand. Above her she could make out the ancient stone cottage that clung to the hard ground.

  It was the cottage that had once belonged to the betrayed bard.

  And the place she hoped would hold the answer to the ghastly curse.

  Not allowing herself to consider the fear trickling down her spine, Isobella clambered over the large rocks that now blocked the path and forced herself to push open the wooden door barring her entrance.

  Just for a moment she nearly bolted. However, there was nothing in the simple room with its scrubbed table, chairs, and narrow bed in the corner to send a chill over her skin. In truth, it was astonishingly well tended for a cottage that had been abandoned near two hundred years before.

  But there was no denying the unmistakable chill in the air or the haunting sadness that seemed nearly tangible.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she at last forced her heavy feet to enter. Once inside she briefly faltered, but when no horrid Beast charged from the shadows and the thatched roof remained firmly in place, she cautiously moved forward.

  She was not certain what it was she searched for. Something mystical, she supposed. Something that would reveal the soul and heart of the Beast.

  Whatever the blazes that might be, she wryly acknowledged, crossing toward the shelves that held a few pieces of crockery and neatly stacked tunics that had long been forgotten. Nothing mystic there, or in the deep chest that held an exquisitely carved Lude harp lovingly wrapped in silk.

  Carefully Isobella stroked the glossy wood of the instrument, startled by the odd tingle that raced through her fingers.

  This had once belonged to the bard. A simple man who had loved so deeply and passionately that his beloved's betrayal could echo through all eternity.