by Lydia Dare
The boy’s eyes lit up. “I dinna ken he had any dogs ta be honest, my lord.”
“Oh, indeed.” James took a step toward the lad. “I’ll be happy to point them out. But it is cold out there. So you’ll need your warmest coat.”
Before he even finished his sentence, Brannock bolted from the room and James could imagine the boy was searching madly for his coat and scarf. Blaire crossed the floor to James’ side, a frown marring her pretty brow. He couldn’t blame her after the scare she had this morning.
“But—” she began.
“They’re not close.” James took her hand in his and caressed small circles across her soft skin. “Blodswell would feel them—well, he’d feel Sarah. Besides, I’ll be with him.”
Aiden Lindsay cleared his throat, and James dropped Blaire’s hand. How had he forgotten they had an audience? Well, that was simple, wasn’t it? Blaire made him forget all rational thought.
“Astronomical scholar, are ye?” the captain asked as he dropped onto the settee.
Well, James had seen more night skies than most living people. “Scholar might be a bit grandiose. I just have an appreciation for the heavens and stars within it.”
“I, for one, am looking forward to the lesson.” MacQuarrie leaned casually against the window frame. “There’s something about a starry night that has always brought peace to my soul.”
Aiden Lindsay laughed. “Then perhaps I’ll give it a go myself. Show me somethin’ that will impress a Highland lass, will ye?”
“Whatever you wish, Captain.” James brought his attention back to Blaire, and he couldn’t help but grin at her. “And what about you, Miss Lindsay? Will you allow me to impress you with my knowledge of the stars and other heavenly bodies?”
She rolled her eyes, but a smile lingered on her lips. “I have no desire ta see Orion’s dogs chase a rabbit across the sky, my lord.” Then she lowered her voice so only he could hear. “Besides, if ye’re all away, it’ll give me a bit of time ta myself. And I have an appointment this evenin’ I’m most anxious for.”
James’ mouth went dry. How was he supposed to point out constellations to her brothers and MacQuarrie while thoughts of her preparing for their appointment danced in his head? “Are you sure?”
Her grey eyes sparkled. “Ye’ll keep one eye on the stars and another on my brothers and Mr. MacQuarrie?”
“I only have two eyes,” he teased. “Is it all right if Blodswell shares the chore?”
Blaire laughed. “Just as long as everyone returns unharmed.”
James offered her a half bow. “You have my word, madam.”
“Then do have a wonderful time. Be sure ta tell me all about it later.” Then she sauntered from the great hall, leaving James to stare after her delectable, departing form.
“Unharmed,” Aiden Lindsay grumbled. “What sort of trouble does she think we’ll stumble inta, anyway?”
“That you’ll tumble head first into the icy loch?” MacQuarrie suggested with a barely concealed grin.
The captain snorted. “Oh, aye, somehow I was able ta march across the continent and back, but I’m incapable of walkin’ a path on my own property without fallin’ ta my death.”
James shook his head. With any luck, the two gentlemen would never know the dangers that lurked just beyond Lindsay’s walls. The idea of leaving Blaire unprotected niggled at the back of his mind, but he shook it away. At the first inkling of Sarah in the vicinity, he’d be back inside the castle within the blink of an eye. Blaire wasn’t in any real danger. He’d never leave her if she was.
In almost no time, Brannock Lindsay returned to the group, all bundled up from head to toe. Clearly, Blaire had seen to his warmth. “Are we ready?” He bounced on his toes.
“Just as soon as the rest of us gather our own coats.” James returned.
Soon, they all exited through the side garden door into the chilly Highland air.
Captain Lindsay clapped James on the back and said, “Lead the way, Kettering. Find the best place ta see these huntin’ dogs.”
James nodded. “Of course.” He looked back over his shoulder at the castle. A lone candle flickered to life in Blaire’s chamber window. He would count the moments until he could go to her.
Twenty
All things considered, Brannock Lindsay was a most delightful child, and just being around him made James wish for things he couldn’t have. Neither a wife nor a family was in his immediate future. How he wished they were, though. He’d give his immortality and his very life for five minutes with his own family. To feel life growing within Blaire. To hold their child, a product of their union, in his arms.
“Woolgathering, James?” Matthew asked quietly from where he sat beside him on a large boulder. The captain, MacQuarrie, and Brannock gazed avidly at the sky. The latter had nearly exhausted James’ knowledge in the realm of constellations.
“Not woolgathering, really,” James said. “Just wishing for things I can’t have.”
“I’ve heard it said one can wish upon a falling star,” Matthew began.
Yes, he’d heard the same thing. What a bunch of rubbish. “With my misfortune, the star would fall upon my head before I could get out the wish,” James grunted.
“What’s the cause of this sudden melancholy? Shall I assume it has to do with Miss Lindsay?”
“What else?” James picked up a stone and tossed it into the loch, where it landed with a plop.
“I think we’ve already established that Miss Lindsay is in love with you.” Matt certainly had a way with words. It might be true. But he had nothing to offer her in return, aside from pleasure. She’d never be fulfilled with a man like him, one who didn’t age and couldn’t give her the family she so rightfully deserved. “You should allow her to decide what she can and cannot bear, instead of making the decision for her. She might surprise you.”
Matthew suddenly tensed beside him.
“What is it?” James asked as he jumped to his feet. Sarah Reese and Padrig Trevelyan stepped into the clearing. “So, much for sensing them,” James tossed at Matthew sarcastically and with more than a little anger. His eyes sought Sarah’s hand. She’d removed the ring, her only tether to them. Why the devil hadn’t he considered such a thing?
Dear God, was Blaire safe? James eyes flashed across the pair. No blood that he could see, and not a whiff of it hung on the air. Had they sought her out, there would be some evidence of it.
“Good evening,” Sarah said quietly. Trevelyan said nothing but nodded his head.
“Evenin’,” Captain Lindsay returned. “I doona believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
At the same moment, Brannock stepped closer to his older brother, grasping Aiden’s coat with his mittened hand. Captain Lindsay may not have had the honor, but James doubted poor Brannock would ever forget Sarah’s incisors.
The temptress vampyre nodded in Lindsay’s direction. “Oh, we’re old acquaintances of Kettering and Blodswell.”
Captain Lindsay shook his head. “For a man who ended up in my castle as part of some party prank, you certainly have quite a following in the area.”
James ignored the man. Keeping everyone safe far outweighed whatever thoughts were running through Lindsay’s mind. “Why are you here?” James glared at the woman who’d left him for dead that very morning.
A slow smile tipped the corners of Sarah’s lips. “What kind of greeting is that, Jamie?” she purred at him. He wanted to wipe that sorry excuse for a smile from her lips. There was no charm behind it. Only malice and hatred.
“The only kind you’re going to get,” he replied as he advanced toward her. If he could get his hands on her, he could have her incapacitated before she could blink twice, he was that angry. But, a moment too late, he realized Trevelyan flanked MacQuarrie, the captain, and Brannock.
“Stop,” the wicked vampyre called out, “or you will regret it.”
“There’s only one thing I regret. And that’s allowing you to live this long.”
“What’s this about?” the captain asked warily.
Sarah smiled her silky little smile and said, “Oh, nothing much. James is simply wondering how he can save all of you.”
“Beg your pardon?” Aiden Lindsay took a step closer to the pair.
“Actually, I was wondering how loud the snap will be when I break your neck,” James said slowly, watching her face.
“Aiden, I’m afraid,” Brannock whimpered from behind his brother. Of course, he was. But only by alerting the captain to the danger could he instill the proper amount of fear in the man. Enough to make him react. Quickly.
“Why don’t you take Brannock back to the house, Captain?” James suggested.
“How about we all stay here instead?” Sarah returned sweetly.
What happened next was a blur of activity. Trevelyan moved to grab the boy, but James was faster. He tugged Brannock onto his back and yanked the captain to him. He saw Matthew reach for Sarah just as she grabbed Mr. MacQuarrie. But James didn’t dare wait to see what would happen. The only way to save the Lindsay brothers was to whisk them back to the castle and pray Matthew could handle the pair while he was gone. He pulled Captain Lindsay into his embrace and ran for Briarcraig.
Fast as a flash, he burst through the main front door and deposited both Brannock and Aiden onto the stone floor. Blaire stood in the corridor before them. Her mouth fell open at the sight. A teacup fell from her grasp and shattered on the floor as a fireball flamed to life in her hand.
Something dangerous flashed in Blaire’s eyes as realization apparently dawned on her. “Ye said they were no’ nearby. Ye said it was safe.”
“I know what I said.” And he’d failed her. But Matthew was awaiting his help. “I have to get MacQuarrie.” James turned back toward the door.
“Go, then!” Her fireball flamed even brighter.
“Do not follow me. If you leave your brothers unprotected, Trevelyan and Sarah will kill them.”
“Go!” she cried again. But she reached into her boot and pulled out her knife, tossing it in the air toward him, where it landed in the wooden doorjamb right beside his head. He tugged it from the wall and flew through the door as fast as he could toward the loch.
***
Blaire stared at the empty space where James had stood. Fury coursed through her veins. How dare Sarah Reese and Mr. Trevelyan attack her family? She had the urge to chase after James, to end this once and for all. But Brannock’s whimpering kept her rooted to the floor.
Her little brother scrambled over to her and clutched her skirts as though the material could shield him from all that was evil and scary in the world. She bent down to soothe him, stroking a hand across his hair. The hat she’d secured there earlier was long since gone.
“It’ll be all right, Bran.”
Aiden loomed above them. Storm clouds formed in his furious grey eyes. “Just what is goin’ on around here, Blaire Garia Lindsay?”
“I doona think now is the time—” she began, once again stroking her palm across Brannock’s head.
“Oh, no!” Aiden scoffed. “Now is most definitely the time. I’d like ta ken how Kettering can run faster than the wind. I’d like ta ken how he has more acquaintances in the Highlands than either of us, no’ that I’d like ta ken either of those people, mind ye. And I’d like ta ken all of it right bloody now!”
Blaire gulped. “I ken as much as ye do, Aiden.”
“I never knew ye ta lie ta me before now, Blaire.”
What could she say? He might believe her, but that was neither here nor there now. James was gone. Alec hadn’t returned. And her world was completely off-kilter. Blaire shrugged, hoping he’d leave her be. At least for the time being.
He sighed dramatically. “Very well.” He stalked down the corridor. “I doona want ta see ye, Blaire, no’ until ye can be honest with me.” Then he disappeared around a corner.
Blaire looked down into Brannock’s stricken eyes. “It was that woman, Blaire. The mean one with the pointy teeth.”
“Ye’re safe with me, Bran.” And she prayed it was the truth.
***
What James found when he arrived at the side of the loch wasn’t what he’d hoped to find at all. Sarah lay prone on the ground, her body twisted at a grotesque angle, her severed head a few feet from her body. Her feet and fingers still twitched in the throes of second-death.
Alec MacQuarrie lay closer to the loch, gasping for air while Matthew hovered over him. Trevelyan was nowhere to be seen.
“Oh, God,” James groaned as he leaned over MacQuarrie. He took the man’s hand in his when he reached for it. MacQuarrie’s blood seeped from the wound at his neck much quicker than it should have.
“Help him,” James urged his maker.
“He has to make the choice,” Matthew said. “You know I’ll not turn him unless he wants it.” Matthew sounded tortured, as though the words were ripped from his soul.
MacQuarrie’s blood continued to spill.
“Do you want to live?” James barked at the dying man.
A feeble nod was the only answer.
James met Matthew’s gaze. “I’ll take care of him,” Matthew said. “Go back to the others.”
“You’re certain? You will do it, won’t you? Please don’t change your mind.” He probably sounded like a green lad pleading with his maker this way, but something inside him told him that Blaire would never forgive him if her friend died. It would be on his head. He’d promised to keep them all safe, and he’d failed miserably.
“Have you ever known me not to keep my word? I’ll do it.”
That was a small consolation considering all that had happened in the last little while. James nodded tightly.
“I’ll have to take him to Callista.”
It had been decades since James had laid eyes on the vampyre thaumaturge. “Still in London?” he asked Matthew.
“She is indeed.”
Which meant that protecting the Lindsays from Padrig Trevelyan landed squarely on James’ shoulders alone. “Godspeed, then.” Matthew would have his own troubles trying to get MacQuarrie to Callista’s door.
James fled back to the castle. Blaire met him at the door, where she must have been wearing a path in the rug with her pacing. Not to mention the sparks she was dropping in fear.
Her voice quivered. “W-whose blood is that?” she asked as she pointed to his clothing. “Is it Alec’s?”
He was covered in MacQuarrie’s blood, and he needed to remove it from his person as fast as possible. He wasn’t strong enough to smell it. To wear it on his skin. He ran up the stairs to his bedchamber where he filled the washbasin with water.
James scrubbed frantically at the blood that covered his hands. The coppery smell of it assaulted his senses, pushing him toward a place where he didn’t want to go. Blaire would be on him any moment. He was certain of it. She’d seen the blood on his clothes.
His nearness to MacQuarrie’s life force caused the blood within her veins to call to him, almost as though he could taste the frantic pulse of her worry.
James shrugged out of his jacket and shirt, forcing himself not to breathe. He didn’t need to exhale and inhale; he simply did it because it made him appear to be more human. The scent of MacQuarrie’s blood was heavy within him, teasing him as nothing else had, aside from Blaire.
Blaire. He heard her quick little footsteps as he tugged a clean shirt over his head and tucked it into his trousers.
The door to his room flew open with a bang as Blaire strode through the opening. “How dare ye rush past me like that!”
“Not now, love.” With the scent of MacQuarrie’s blood still hanging in the air, James needed all of his strength to keep his incisors from
descending.
She glared at him. “Doona think ta dissuade me, James Maitland. Where did the blood come from? Where’s Alec?” Blaire demanded, her breaths heaving from her body like bellows that stoke a fire. A fireball hovered over her open palm.
“He’s with Blodswell,” James said slowly.
The fireball dropped to the floor, the flames not quite snuffed out by the fall. James stepped forward and stomped it down. “You needn’t burn the castle to the ground, Blaire,” he grunted.
Blaire gasped as one hand landed on her chest. “Alec’s dead, is he no’?”
In a manner of speaking, though James opted not to voice that thought.
Her gaze moved over him and to the bed, where he’d discarded his blood-stained clothing. Damnation. He should have shoved it under the bed. Of course, she saw it. She was Blaire, after all.
James ducked as a fireball flew straight for his head. “Blaire,” he warned.
“Doona Blaire me,” she clipped out. “Ye havena answered me. Is Alec dead?”
“No more so than I am,” he hedged.
Her eyes narrowed as she appraised him. “And what does that mean? So help me God, James. If ye doona tell me what happened…” Her voice cracked on the last, and she seemed unable to finish her thought.
James’ heart would have broken if he still had one. Watching sorrow and panic engulf her was painful to his soul. He opened his arms to her, wanting nothing more than to offer whatever comfort she could take from him.
Blaire shook her finger at him. “No,” she whimpered.
James didn’t wait for her to come to him. He advanced on her and paid no heed to her struggle when she attempted to shake free of his hold.
“Let me hold you,” he commanded softly as she stopped fighting him and relaxed in his arms. “MacQuarrie is…safe.” If only she’d leave it at that for now.
“Safe? Where is he, James? What happened ta him?”
More than he wished to explain. “He’s with Blodswell for the time being. He’ll make sure your friend gets all the help he needs.”