by Kit Tunstall
As he turned the doorknob, she whispered, “I wanted to see if I felt the same way with anyone else that I feel with you.”
He paused, but didn’t turn around. After a second’s hesitation, Nicholas opened the door and stepped through.
“I didn’t feel anything for him,” she said as he closed the door. “I didn’t,” she shouted. Emily held her breath, waiting to see if he would return to her. As the minutes passed, she realized he wouldn’t, and tears trailed down her cheeks. How could she fear him as much as she did, yet yearn for him at the same time? What was wrong with her? She brushed impatiently at the tears on her cheeks, but they were replaced as soon as she wiped them away. She curled up on the bed and hugged a pillow as she tried to convince herself she didn’t want Nicholas to come back. He was dangerous, and the possessiveness he had displayed tonight frightened her more than anything else she had experienced at his hands did. He loved her enough to kill for her. Did that mean he loved her enough to kill her if she displeased him again?
Chapter Eleven
It was late in the night before Emily fell asleep. Thoughts of Nicholas kept her eyes from closing for a long time. Thoughts of their past, the present and her future swirled through her mind. One moment, she ached to be in his arms, and the next, fear consumed her. Eventually, the night did catch up with her, and she fell asleep, sprawled across the bed, still wearing the black dress.
Scotland, 1813
The twilight was just beginning as Erin’s feet crunched through the brown leaves dotting the forest floor. She looked up at the setting sun as a soft breeze caressed her cheeks, blowing the ends of the ribbon tying back her hair against her neck. Her gaze returned straight ahead, to where Nicholas and the priest waited for her. She held a small leather bag in one hand, and the other clutched a handful of the McCairn plaid arisaid covering her.
As she drew closer, Erin saw Nicholas wore a satin damask vest over a white shirt with puffed sleeves. He hadn’t bothered with a jacket. The autumn wind had disheveled his short hair, but he didn’t seem to realize it. He held out his hand as she neared. “You are beautiful.”
She smiled and took his hand after dropping the bag near their feet. She turned to the priest and curtsied. “Father Gilgerney.”
“Lass McCairn.” He cast a nervous look over her shoulder. “Does your papa know…?”
She shook her head, casting off a twinge of regret that her family wouldn’t be present her wedding. When she ran away this evening, she had cut all ties with them. She looked at her intended from the corner of her eye. His tender expression renewed her resolve about her decision. She loved Nicholas, and if her father couldn’t accept that, she would live without his approval.
The priest nibbled on his lip. “Perhaps you should wait. I could speak to Laird McCairn, lass. Mayhap—”
“It will do no good.” Nicholas spoke firmly, locking eyes with the priest. “Her father will not agree to our marriage because he does not want Erin to go with me to England.”
Father Gilgerney wiped his brow with his arm. “With good reason, m’lord. The lass is his child—”
Nicholas’s eyes didn’t waver. “Erin wants to be my wife. You will perform the ceremony and tell no one.”
The priest’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “I will not speak of it,” he whispered. He frowned. “Can you not stay in the Highlands, Lord Vallsade?”
He didn’t deign to answer the question. “Marry us.”
Nicholas’s harsh, impatient tone caused Erin to flinch. She forced a smile for the priest. “Please, Father, marry us.”
With a weary sigh, the priest opened his Bible and began to read. Sweat continued to pour down his face, and he looked nervously over their shoulders every few minutes.
Erin didn’t share the priest’s fear of her father catching them. She had gone to bed early with one of her headaches, knowing no one would miss her until morning that way. By then, she and Nicholas would be away from her father’s holdings. She kept her eyes locked with Nicholas’s as she repeated the sacred words that would bind them. She experienced no hesitation when the priest told them to kneel for the final blessing. She grasped his hand and knelt with him in the rich green grass. Before bowing her head, she met his eyes and smiled at the love she saw there. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been married in the church near the keep, and that her mother and sisters hadn’t attended. She hardly missed the music, gifts and guests. All she required was Nicholas’s love, and she was secure in the knowledge she had it.
The priest crossed himself and indicated they should rise. Nicholas pressed a small bag of coins into his hands and said, “Tell no one of this union, priest.”
The priest was pale, and his eyes were wide. The wind tossed his thinning red hair about as he nodded vigorously. “My discretion is assured.” He cast one last look at Erin. “I do hope you have not broken your father’s heart.”
She swallowed thickly. “I cannot deny what my heart wants out of consideration for his.”
Father Gilgerny trudged away from them, shaking his head all the while. When he disappeared from sight, she turned to Nicholas and hurled herself into his arms. “My husband.” She caressed his silky black hair, running her fingers through the short strands.
He lowered his head to kiss her, and his lips were gentle on hers. He pulled her tight against him as his tongue eased through the barrier of her closed mouth.
Her knees grew weak as his tongue explored her mouth. Erin pressed herself against him, eager to learn all about her new husband. She let him support her as she grasped handfuls of his vest and ardently returned his kisses.
He broke away with a gasp. “We must depart, dearest. By morning, we have to clear Lachlorn’s land, or your father will catch up with us.” He pushed back escaping strands of hair the shade of wheat and smiled down at her. “I cannot defeat his soldiers.”
She nodded, aching to lay with her new husband, but allowing necessity to overcome her desires. Nicholas whistled for his horse, a strong stallion as dark as her sister Agata’s hair, with glistening dark eyes and a proud demeanor. He was muscular and rugged, much like his owner, and would have little trouble carrying the two of them across McCairn and Lachlorn land by morning.
Nicholas lifted her onto Fury’s back first, and then mounted. Once seated on the sturdy horse, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into the curve of his body. “Sleep, my beloved. The journey is long.”
She snuggled against him, feeling not at all sleepy. How could she when she was so excited about starting a new life with Nicholas? A new life as a vampire. A small shiver worked its way up her spine, and she wondered again if he spoke the truth. Could he really be the creature he claimed to be? Was it truly not an evil abomination to become one? Would she damn her eternal soul to Hell if she let Nicholas change her?
She gnawed on her lip, confronting the issue she had pushed to the back of her mind. Part of her was skeptical of his claim, yet she had seen him revitalized after feeding from a warrior who didn’t remember the incident. Could she drink the blood of others to live?
Despite her moral turmoil, she knew she would allow Nicholas to convert her to a vampire. If he truly was immortal, she wanted to be as well, so they would never be apart. He filled a void in her she hadn’t recognized until she met him. Deep in her heart, she knew he spoke the truth about what he was, because she had remembered her other lives, having experienced the dreams. She knew who he was. He was her other half, the missing piece of her soul.
At the edge of the valley, nearly two hours later, she touched his arm and tilted her head so he could hear her. “Can you stop Fury and turn?”
He pulled sharply on the reins, and the ebony stallion whirled around and reared his front legs as he voiced his displeasure. Two firm pats from his master calmed him, and he snuffled as he settled his hooves back on the ground.
Erin stared at the border of her father’s land, feeling a sadness she hadn’t expected. All her lif
e, she had longed to escape Scotland and the marriage contract to Brouden, her father’s most skilled warrior and heir-apparent, since her brother was killed seven years ago.
When Lord Nicholas came to the Highlands two months ago on business for George III, she had taken one look at the regal baron and fallen in love. He had regularly appeared in the visions accompanying her strange headaches for as long as she could remember. In addition to recognizing her lost love, she had also seen a way to escape a bleak future. She made the mistake of confiding in her bubbly younger sister, who was her best friend, but also too impetuous at the tender age of fourteen. She hadn’t been able to guard Erin’s secret for long before her tongue betrayed it.
Laird McCairn hadn’t been pleased to hear of his daughter’s affections for the baron. He had tried to kill Nicholas in a fit of rage, and he was further enraged when Nicholas bested him. His subsequent forbiddance of Erin seeing Nicholas had done nothing to separate the lovers.
During their long nights of talking and touching, she hadn’t truly realized what it would mean to leave her home. Papa was an austere man, and he wouldn’t forgive her betrayal. She would never see her mother or sisters again, would never ride full-tilt across the wilds of the Highlands, hunting rabbits with her bow.
Perhaps her melancholy thoughts clouded her perception, but there seemed to be a dark shadow shading the land they viewed, even in the light cast by the tumescent moon. The valley lay before them, a massive wall of towering trees and rich greenery. Was England so inviting? Would it ever feel like home?
“Erin?”
His voice was gentle, and he was asking if she was certain. She could tell by his tone of voice, and the way he stroked her arm. She put her hand on his and nodded. “Let us continue.” When he turned the horse, she bit back tears and refused to try to look back. Her future lay with Nicholas, and her past must stay behind her.
It was near dawn when they passed Lachlorn’s land, into the MacDonalds’ territory. Erin knew Laird MacDonald harbored no love for her father, and he wouldn’t assist him by allowing McCairn and his soldiers passage across his land if they pursued her. Nor would he hesitate to slit the throat of his enemy’s daughter and her new husband if he discovered them trespassing.
Nicholas had found the secluded glen she had told him about, and they would sleep here for the day. They would continue their journey across MacDonald land that night, when there was less chance of discovery. He took her hand after lifting her down. “Is this the glen you spoke of, Erin?”
She nodded, nearly too exhausted to speak. “Aye. Agata and I often sneaked here as children. Mother used to have fits, and she would stir up everyone to find us.” A sad expression flitted across her face. “That was before Daniel was murdered on MacDonald land, and the feud began.” Her eyes darted around the glen, before settling on a large tree with branches sweeping the ground. It had matured and bent under its own weight during the eight years since she had passed this way. “Fury should be hidden there, if you can get him to stay.”
Nicholas took the reins and dropped her hand, moving toward the sheltering tree. Before he took the horse into the thick growth, he removed a roll from Fury’s back and stroked his muzzle, while staring into his eyes. He whispered something, and the horse’s ears twitched. Its eyes looked glazed as it voluntarily walked through the limbs. After Nicholas smoothed down signs of Fury’s passage, it was a perfect shelter for the horse.
When he returned to her, she bit her lip. “Should you tie him? If he wanders away and is discovered, we will have no way of leaving.”
Nicholas shook his head. “I commanded him to stay in the canopy of the tree limbs until I come for him.”
She lifted a brow. “You…commanded a horse to stay?”
He nodded, looking amused. “There are many things you find unbelievable now, but will soon accept as commonplace.”
She bit back further protests, assured by the confidence in Nicholas’s posture. She felt the first stirrings of nerves as she followed him into the cave. It was dim inside, but she could vaguely see Nicholas as light cast by the rapidly rising sun filtered into the cave. She looked over her shoulder, wondering why she and Agata had loved this place as children. She remembered their games of rescued princess, where they took turns slaying the dragon to save each other. They must have been oblivious to the dangers as children. No wonder Mother had been so worried by their disappearances. If she had ever discovered where they went on their adventures, she probably would have locked them in the highest room of the McCairn keep and never let them out.
“We are alone,” he said while spreading the bedroll on the hard ground before he removed a small leather bag.
She couldn’t help another look over her shoulder, unable to remember how far the cave extended down the passage behind them. “How can you be certain?”
He tapped a finger against his temple. “I can sense life, or a lack of it. Nothing with a heartbeat is nearby, aside from us and Fury.”
She allowed his reassurance to assuage her fears as she crouched on the thin blankets he had unrolled. It was cold in the darkness, making her shiver. She looked at Nicholas, who was removing a silver flask from the bag, along with a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese. He didn’t seem bothered by the cold.
He removed a knife from his bag and sliced a hunk off the bright yellow cheese, then tore the bread in half and extended her share, along with the cheese. “Eat,” he urged. “You need your strength for the journey. It is three more days until we reach the border, and another two days’ journey to Vallsade Manor from there.”
She took the food and bit into the flaky bread, surprised to find it fresh. Her stomach rumbled as she devoured the meager meal, and her mouth was dry when she had finished. She reached for the flask Nicholas had been sipping from, and her eyes widened when his hand came down on hers and squeezed. She frowned.
“That is not wine, Erin.” His voice was soft and smoky. “It is blood.”
She snatched her hand away, repulsed by the thought of drinking blood. “Where did it come from?” she whispered.
“I imposed upon a woman to provide sustenance for our journey.” His mouth curled into a feral smile. “I took more than bread and cheese she offered in exchange for the silver.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “You killed her?”
He shook his head. “Nay, I merely took enough for a meal this morning. Blood does not last long, and there was no point in draining her since most would waste.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. Nicholas had always been honest with her, and she knew he usually killed his victims. As much as she loved him, she didn’t know how she could sustain herself with the life of others. She was resolved to never kill, though he had bluntly told her it was almost impossible to overcome the compulsion, especially the first few years following the change.
He leaned forward and took her hand. “Be sure you can share my life, Erin,” he said gruffly. “If you cannot, I will return you to your father.”
Tears slid down her cheeks. “You would do that?”
He hesitated. “I would try,” he finally said. “I would try to do what is best, but I have waited so long to have you with me again.” He tightened his hold. “I do not want to lose you this time. I cannot bear to watch you grow old and die when I can prevent it. You must be certain, my beloved.”
She bit her lip as her light green eyes explored his. Could she walk away from him, loving him as she did? How would she live with the emptiness in her soul if they parted? Somehow, she would find a way to overcome her revulsion to taking blood. Perhaps the change would assist her by dulling her conscience with insatiable hunger. “I am certain, my love.” She tilted her head and removed the bow that now hung haphazardly in her hair. Erin pushed the hair away to expose her neck. “Take me.”
He smiled, and his eyes were gentle. “Not yet. We will wait until we arrive at Vallsade Manor.” His eyes darkened with passion, and he reached for her, pulling her onto his la
p. “However, there is another passion we can indulge.”
She melted into his embrace, eager to belong to him completely. Soon, she would be his wife in every sense of the word. She experienced no hesitation when his mouth slanted over hers. Erin parted her lips to allow his tongue inside her mouth, shyly touching it with her own. Her body tingled with warmth, and a pit of lava burned in her stomach, sending heat spiraling through her body. Her thighs quivered when Nicholas rested his hands on them, anticipating him seeking out her pussy.
He stroked the woolen material of her arisaid, fashioned from her clan’s tartan, gradually pushing it up her legs, until her calves were revealed. Erin undid the buttons of his damask vest, running her fingers along the smooth satin. When it hung open, she went to work on the shirt, until it was opened to his waist, where the hem disappeared into his trousers. She had touched him like this many times, but never below the waist. He hadn’t pushed her to make love before their marriage, although she would have been more than willing.
Her fingers remained steady when she unfastened his trousers and reached inside to stroke his cock through his drawers. She met his gaze, wetting her lips when she saw the heat in his eyes. Erin leaned forward, still palming his cock, to kiss him, exploring his lips with her tongue, before easing through them to explore his mouth, darting her tongue across his, prior to retreating.
Nicholas’s hands trembled slightly when he unfastened the brass brooch at her breast to let the arisaid fall to her waist. His hands were warm through the thin cotton of her yellow blouse, and she arched her back, offering him more. He dipped his head to suckle one of her nipples through the cotton, abrading the tender peak in a manner that had her close to screaming at the gratifying sensation.
When he lifted his head, he rubbed the wet material against her nipple, further agitating the bud, making Erin bite her lip. Their hideaway was secure enough for the day, but she couldn’t scream her pleasure for risk of a MacDonald soldier hearing her. “Stop teasing me.”