Mac nodded. "As I approached the altar, the fire burned down, leaving only the ashes." He frowned. "I've never seen anything like it. It was a perfectly formed, three- dimensional image of Miranda chained to the cross - but it was made of ashes."
Jennifer scrabbled for her purse, only to realize she hadn't brought it with her. A hand appeared in front of her face with a handkerchief. With trembling hands she snatched it from Val and wiped streaming eyes.
"I saw her ring, and something told me to take it." Mac continued. "As I touched her finger, her hand disintegrated. Then..."
Silence.
She abandoned her mopping operation and looked at Mac. He stood as still as a stone before the fireplace. Shai moved toward him, laying her hand on his shoulder.
"I can't explain what happened next. I don't understand it yet," His voice was jerky and filled with frustration. He pulled away from Shai and turned to face Jennifer.
Her heart constricted at his look of torment that played across his face. She offered him a watery smile, trying to encourage him to go on.
"I guess I had a vision of my past. I saw who I was and where I came from." In frustration he ran his hands through his hair, causing it to stand on end. "I knew where the standing stones were when Jennifer described them, even though I know I'd never been there. I knew how to get there and I knew what I would find, but I don't know how I knew."
Shai sank down on the couch directly across from Jennifer, her expression stunned. Val moved close to his lover, perching himself on the arm of the couch linking Shai's fingers with his.
"You know where you came from?" he asked.
"I think I do." Mac exhaled noisily. "I know I do. As I took the ring from Miranda, a cloud appeared over the altar, sweeping the ashes up. When the cloud opened, Miranda appeared as alive as ever. She said something about giving me the gift of destiny and it would save those I love. Then she disappeared."
"The next thing I know, I was lying face down on the autumn grass. The snow was gone and the grass was covered with frost. Around me was a circle of men in black robes. I, as a young child, was being led to the altar in the center of the stones. I was dressed only in a ceremonial robe."
Jennifer gaped at him, "Like the one you returned in?"
Mac nodded sagely, "It sure looks like the same one. My father's name was Mireen and he was a powerful pagan High Priest in the eleventh century. He was the last of his line and he was training me to take his place. His brother Manfred was a black magician. He was jealous of the power my father possessed. In a fit of rage my Uncle killed my father by offering him in sacrifice to the Goddess. He thought if he made a big enough sacrifice, the Goddess would bestow her gifts upon him as she had my father. His plan backfired. Instead, he brought famine down upon his people. Many died. When this happened, Manfred turned his back on the Goddess and embraced the Master of Darkness, whom we called He Who Shall Remain Un-named.
"Upon my father's death, Manfred took my mother and I into his house as servants. We lived in the cellar and I worked in the barns taking care of the horses and livestock. My mother," his voice cracked, "died within a few months of a broken heart. She simply couldn't live without my father."
"How old were you?" Jennifer asked, her heart aching for the parentless child.
"Around eleven summers or so. A few years later, after the harvests had not improved, Manfred decided he needed to make another sacrifice, a bigger sacrifice to the Master. He wanted to sacrifice his own son so show he was willing to suffer in his devotion, but he felt his own son was flawed. His son had a peculiarity, an affliction Manfred viewed as a curse. He felt that offering his son to the Master would be viewed as an insult. He needed someone untouched and pure of heart for this ultimate sacrifice."
"You?" Shai whispered hoarsely.
"Manfred banished his own son from the house that summer in preparation for this great event. He decided the close of the pagan year, harvest, was the best time to make his offering. So on a cold autumn night they gathered at the standing stones. They drugged me and hauled me out there. After they chanted and invoked the Master, they tossed me onto the altar."
From his closed expression Jennifer knew there was much more to it than that. But she didn't want to push him now. She could feel his tension and confusion even from a few feet away.
"What happened?" she asked.
"My Uncle tried to kill me, to sacrifice me to his dark God." Mac spat the words. His expression tightened, his pain plain to see.
Jennifer could stand it no more. She rose from the chair and approached him. Sliding her arms around his waist, she released the breath she'd been holding as his arms came around her, holding her tightly as if he never wanted to let go. "That's where the scar came from isn't it? The one on your chest?" Her voice was muffled against his shirt.
She felt him nod.
"How did you survive?" Shai asked. "How did you escape?"
"Someone arrived at the right moment and saved me. He killed my Uncle and saved my life."
Jennifer raised her head to look at him; her reflection stared back from his black glasses. "Who? Who saved you?"
Mac raised a hand and pulled the sunglasses from his face. Those gorgeous, hot chocolate-colored eyes were now liberally streaked with gold, glowing warmly as he stared down at her. Her breath caught in her throat as the power of those catlike eyes poured over her, into her, warming her from the inside out. Deep in those eyes, so different and yet the same, was knowledge beyond her wildest dreams.
They were also familiar.
"Renault?" She quavered.
Mac nodded, his gaze never leaving her face. "Renault is my Uncle's son, my cousin. He was known as Niall then and I was to be sacrificed in his place. He saved my life."
"Your name," Shai croaked. "Your name means 'son of the good one'."
Mac nodded. "I knew that long ago but I never really knew what it meant. I assume Renault gave me the name, as it wasn't my name as a child. My father was a good man, and a kind one." He shook his head sadly. "Such a waste of lives."
"I'm glad you found your destiny, Mac." Jennifer said fiercely, tightening her arm around his waist. "I know how much it haunted you."
Those golden-brown eyes swept over her face, warming her. "I'm also glad I found my destiny." He leaned forward, his lips grazing her ear. "And I'm thankful I found you again."
Jennifer froze, her senses going into full alert. She pulled back, staring into those mysterious eyes, and lost another piece of her heart to him. "I..."
"Shush," he placed a warm fingertip over her lips. "Not now." He pressed a light kiss to her forehead before he released her.
Shaken, she lurched over to the end of the couch and sank down onto it. Was her deepest wish about to come true? Could Mac really love her? Knowing what Mikhail's reaction would be, could she risk letting him love her?
"I don't understand how Mikhail thinks he can get away with this," Shai said. "He has to know the council will come after him."
"I don't think he cares," Val answered. "He wants to taunt the Council into coming after him as he wants me to come after him." Val eyed Mac warily as if he were unable to decide how much had changed in his old friend. "I think it might be time for a meeting."
Mac nodded. "I agree. It is time for this to end. Shall we send word to Mikhail to meet us tomorrow evening at the Chapel des Anges Perdu?"
Jennifer frowned at the "we" in his statement.
Mac turned as if he knew of her unspoken resistance. "It is my fight too," he said quietly.
"So macho," she snapped, fear making her words sharper than she intended. "I'm going, also. Mikhail is unfortunately my master and I have some stake in this."
Shai frowned. "What happens if you kill Mikhail, Val? What will happen to Jennifer and Maeve?"
Val looked at Jennifer, his expression speculative. "I don't honestly know what will happen. I don't know anything will happen to them."
Mac also stared at Jennifer also. "So we don't
know what happens to a revenant when their master is killed? Do you know of any vampires who had revenants when they were killed?"
Val shook his head. "Miranda is the first vampire killed in hundreds of years. Contrary to Bram Stoker, we are a relatively peaceful bunch."
"What about vampire lore? Is there anything in the lore that might give us a clue?" Mac's gaze remained fixed on Jennifer.
"I'll have to contact Sinjin," Val replied. "He's done extensive research on vampires and our humble beginnings. He might have the answers we need."
Mac nodded. "Then I think we are done here." He held out his hand and Jennifer's heart leapt into her throat. Hesitantly she placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her up. "We need to get back to London. I want to catch Renault in the morning."
Val rose to his feet, his expression solemn. "I ask for your forgiveness with regards to my actions earlier. I should never have doubted you would do everything in your power to save Miranda."
Mac's expression was equally grave. He held out his free hand, "Shake my hand, brither, and all will be forgotten."
Val smiled at the use of the Scots language. "Did the language come back to you also?" he asked as he shook Mac's hand.
"Parts of it. It's the language I grew up with," Mac grinned. "And it feels great to know that fact."
Jennifer rose from her seat and followed the other three as they walked through the library and into the main hall approaching the front door. So much had changed in the past hour and she couldn't get a handle on it. She felt stunned, numb and anxious all at the same time.
The night air chilled her skin as she stepped into the darkness with her man beside her. Val halted her progress and pulled her into a swift hug.
"Have a care, Jennifer. All will work out," he whispered to her.
Her smile felt wobbly. "Promise me. Promise me that no matter what happens, you will do everything in your power to keep him safe."
Val's smile was kind. "I promise."
She released him. Mac stood by the car, and warmth spread through her as she met his heated gaze. He held out his hand once again. "Let's go home."
Something shifted inside as she heard those words. Nodding mutely, she walked down the steps to the man who waited for her.
* * *
Chapter 8
Chelsea, London
"Wake up, sleepyhead."
Jennifer stirred. Her reclined position in the front seat of the BMW looked incredibly uncomfortable. Just how did she get her neck into that position?
"Mmm," she mumbled.
"I love a woman who articulates." Mac grinned as she settled into a more accessible position. Leaning forward, he pressed a light kiss to her cheekbone. He inhaled the scent of warm woman and jasmine, a mix uniquely Jennifer's. Brushing his lips down her cheek, he blazed a trail to her jaw, lingering to kiss the exposed skin of her neck. Her pulse fluttered beneath his lips. He snaked his tongue out to steal a taste then nipped at her skin, pulling a reaction from her.
"What..." she shifted, moving away from him.
Enthralled, he watched as she slowly roused. Her eyelids fluttered. Then she stretched the full stretch of a sated, sleepy cat. First, she raised her arms and arched her back, pulling her jacket and sweater away from the top of her black skirt, leaving her soft belly vulnerable to his gaze. Her thighs whispered together as she moved sinuously. Her stocking-clad toes pointed as the stretch worked its way down her body. His groin tightened at the innate sensuality of her movements.
Fastening his gaze on the expanse of exposed skin; he leaned forward and pressed a damp, open-mouthed kiss on her belly. The air whooshed out of her lungs as his lips touched her.
"What are you...."
He nipped at the tender flesh eliciting a squeal from her. Fingers tangled in his hair and gently tugged as if to pull him away from his tasty morsel. Then he blew a raspberry on her belly.
Shrieks of laughter exploded from Jennifer as the raspberry sounded loudly in the silence of the car. He trailed his fingers up her side as she twisted, abandoning her grip on his hair. Shrieking, she tried to evade his questing fingers.
"That tickles," she yelled, arching wildly as if to throw him off her.
Mac chuckled against her skin, gracing her with another opened mouth kiss, this one just above her belly button. His hand nudged at the bottom of her sweater before slipping underneath to explore uncharted territory. Pressing kisses up her stomach, he pushed the sweater out of the way until he reached her black lace bra.
"I do love your lingerie," he breathed against her skin.
Jennifer giggled and he delighted in the sound. This woman didn't laugh nearly enough. It was up to him to see to it that she laughed a great deal more in the future.
"Shai bought these for my birthday. We went to lingerie party together."
He eyed the scanty black lace and the creamy mounds it covered. "Val is a lucky man." Flicking open the front clasp, her breasts spilled forth. "Not as lucky as I am, though."
Jennifer cried out as his lips coaxed the tip of her breast into a pearl. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he tasted the warm woman beneath him. He shifted to reach more of her tender skin and groaned in frustration as he banged his knee on the steering wheel.
"We have to get out of this car." He pulled back from her and the temptation she presented.
She watched him with hazy eyes. "Where do you want us to go?" she shifted, bringing one foot up to rub his thigh, a sensual smile curving her lips.
"My bed." Mac ground out, his voice hoarse. He grabbed her foot, dipped his head nipped at the instep before raising his eyes to meet hers again. "I want you beneath me, over me, surrounding me, now."
Her eyes widened. She swallowed convulsively. "Ok," she croaked. She licked her lips and Mac could barely contain a groan. Didn't she know what she was did to him?
Jennifer shivered as Mac threw open the car door and a cold gust of air whipped into the car. He grabbed her around the waist and helped her over the console.
"My shoes," she reached for them on the passenger side floor but he scooped her up into his arms instead. "Wait..."
"No time," he rumbled.
Kicking the car door shut, he started for the front door. His boots crunched in the snow as she wrapped her arms around his neck and relaxed against his chest. When was the last time someone treated her so tenderly?
Not since the last time Mac was in your life.
Sad, but true. No one had ever treated her as this man had. By rights he should hate her for who she was and what she'd done to him. But she wouldn't question the fact that the Goddess had deemed she receive a second chance. She'd grab it and hold onto it with both hands. She pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. He smelled of snow, leather and man. Encouraged by the growl he emitted when her lips touched his flesh, she nipped at his skin, excited by the taste and proximity of him.
"Have mercy, woman." He spanked her smartly on the backside.
A bark of laughter escaped her as he bounded up the steps to the front door. He released his hold on her legs as if to put her down on the snowy cement. No way she was going to put her stockinged feet in the snow! Agilely, she wound her legs around his and clung like a limpet to his broad frame and licked his throat instead.
"You are playing with fire, little girl," he growled.
Jennifer pulled back and gave him what she hoped was a sexy smile. "Promise?"
His breath hitched, "Do I ever."
The door swung open and he stumbled in, hampered by her twining legs. she laughed when she almost ended up on the marble floor of the tiny foyer. Images of the couple across the street doing almost this very same thing flashed through her mind. Joy expanded in her heart. He slammed the door behind him, plunging them into darkness relieved only by the glow of a small lamp at the top of the steps.
Jennifer sank into a molasses pit of desire, pulled deep into the sensual darkness. She trembled as he braced her against the wide oak door, pressing the ridge of his arou
sal against the apex of her thighs. Dear Goddess but she wanted him. With every fiber of her being she wanted this man to possess her. She wanted him with a need so ferocious it could no longer be denied.
Mac's breathing was urgent as he leaned heavily into her, pressing his erection into the softness of her body. He removed her jacket, shifting her away from the door long enough to slide the garment out from behind her, and dropped it to the floor. His fingers tangled in her long hair, pulling her head back to accept the deep thrust of his tongue into her mouth.
She whimpered into his mouth, wiggling restlessly against him in a vain effort to appease the growing ache between her thighs. She ached for him to fill the emptiness inside her. The same emptiness that was rapidly growing damp with her need.
Hastily she shoved his jacket from his shoulders, wanting to feel his bare skin beneath her hands. The leather hit the tiles with a slap as she raced her hands beneath his sweater. Warm male skin, slick with sweat, awaited her. She kneaded and stroked the thick pads of muscle that rippled beneath her touch. Her fingers found flat male nipples as a groan burst from his throat. Greedily she swallowed his cry as she sucked hard on his tongue.
Loathe to break their torrid kiss but needing to feel more of him, Jennifer moved away. Mac gasped for air, his body raging against her as she tore the turtleneck off of him, tossing it into the darkness. She licked her swollen lips, tasting the essence of Mac before pulling his head back down to hers for round two of their sensual battle. He gave in immediately, his mouth hard as it nipped at hers. Her head reeled at the sensations he aroused and she clung to him to keep from floating away. He was her anchor in a world gone dark with desire.
She sighed as he slid his hands beneath her sweater, cupping her breasts against his big palms. He kneaded them, his callused thumbs running over their taut tips, setting off another explosion that caused a moan to break from her lips. As if Mac understood what she needed, he broke the kiss, this time pulling her sweater off over her head. He tossed it carelessly over his shoulder. She wriggled out of her unclasped bra, dropping it to the floor.
Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 2 Page 11