“All rise,” Rhys announced, bringing the Council members to their feet in unison. “Council is now in session.”
As one, they sat. There were four senior members: himself, Rhys of Clan Macdouglas, Conrad of Clan Maccinnis, and Elinor of Clan Maceoghan. Arrayed outside in the great hall were the coven leaders of the four distinct precincts, ready to testify if called upon, awaiting any ruling handed down from the Council.
“There is no question of what we felt,” Elinor of Clan Maceoghan stated gravely. “The only question is what action we can or should take at this time to discover its origin.”
All heads nodded in silent agreement. There was almost never dissension amongst the Council.
“An Awakening has commenced, and not of the usual variety. This half-born has powerful blood, the blood of an ancient wakens in its veins. We must discover who it is and ensure they become fully vampire, or whoever it is must be destroyed.”
“How are we to be at peace? One of the ancients themselves is hiding the identity of the half-born!” Conrad roared.
“Or a Druid has gained enough power to supersede even the Council’s strength,” Rhys interjected.
“I will not believe it!” Conrad responded tightly. “The Druids are but a shadow of their former selves. Who here will disagree? And you, Rhys, imply that a Druid could cloak even from the Council?”
Malcolm, highly respected, spoke.
“It is never wise, Conrad, to underestimate your foe. We must tread carefully. An Awakening in and of itself is neither good nor bad. The Council’s concern must be that the subject is turned completely to vampire. But this can be done in many ways. First we must discover the identity of the changeling. It would do the vampire realm no good to simply kill off a changeling with the blood of an ancient! That’s madness!”
He took his seat again, hopeful that he had not exposed himself with the outburst.
Elinor sighed.
“Malcolm, as usual, you speak with wisdom and logic,” she acknowledged. “Although I agree with Conrad that it must be another ancient cloaking the changeling, I cannot see the sense in killing one of our own before we know if they will accept their vampire life. What say you, Conrad of Clan Maccinnis?”
Conrad knew his own mind instantly, needing no time to deliberate. What he would answer was another matter.
“I concur with Malcolm of Clan Gaunson. The Council must act with wisdom. If this changeling is the seed of an ancient, harming him or her could endanger the tenuous peace that now exists in the vampire realm.”
“I must agree also,” Rhys voiced his opinion. “We cannot risk the stability of the entire realm without knowing more.” Rhys rubbed his eyes in frustration. “Have we come to a unanimous decision, then?” he asked, knowing through their link that they all concurred. It was polite formality more than necessity. As always, custom, tradition, and ritual reigned.
“Aye,” Malcolm sounded, the others following in turn until all had voiced assent.
“Then we wait,” Malcolm proclaimed with finality.
“Let us hope the changeling completes the transformation quickly and the journey safely,” Rhys shared with Malcolm on the way out. “I’ve had shadowed premonitions concerning the Fates, Malcolm. It does not bode well. The Fates are nothing more than unruly children, yet they have the power to turn the world upside down.”
“What you say troubles me, old friend,” Malcolm confessed, shaking his head. “It rarely bodes well when the Fates become temperamental.”
Malcolm secreted Rhys’ revelation away, worry furrowing his brow at the discovery. If the Fates were tampering with things all hell could break loose, and his daughter’s life may rest in the balance of childish whims.
Chapter Six
Paige’s symptoms were intensifying. Cael buffered the effects, mentioning smells before she had the chance and reacting to noises as if her super keen hearing were commonplace. Tense and agitated, Paige jumped at the slightest sound. Learning to filter the abundant sensory information newly streaming into her consciousness would take time and practice. Drinking would help her along, strengthen her, but he sensed she wasn’t ready to know that much. Making matters worse, his hunger simmered just below the surface, threatening everything. Cael needed to feed, and his desire for her to partake with him grew by the hour. As her Awakening progressed, lulling her with thrall would become ineffectual; initiating her was the only way to prepare her.
Offering to make tea Paige disappeared into the kitchen, gifting him the opportunity to lay thicker enchantments around her, her home, and her thoughts. Fear and confusion rose like a beacon telepathically, leaving Cael desperate to staunch the outpouring of psychic energy rolling from her. Subtly he entered her mind, encouraging tranquility and repose. She settled under his comforting presence, and in her new quietness Cael wrapped her in his arms from behind. Fumbling with the kettle’s handle, Paige grew unsure under his intimate touch.
How different from their dreams…
In wakefulness, inhibition claimed her confidence. He kissed the side of her neck, tasting the saltiness of her skin, knowing he would take much more.
“So beautiful,” he husked near her ear.
Her hand covered the arm held snugly about her waist, and she melted against his strength and security.
“I want to kiss ye proper, Paige Kinnell,” he murmured, turning her in his arms.
She didn’t protest, turning willingly, welcoming his soft, sensual kiss. Hesitant and slow at first, her movements built in intensity as he deepened his exploration of her mouth. Cael’s strong hands slid over her, greedily seeking contact with her flesh, and she mimicked his overtures as passion swelled.
Sliding his hand under her blouse, rubbing her soft skin, the firm globe of her breast beneath his palm, he gently held her, brushing her tightened flesh with his fingers. Her sharp intake of breath and stiffened posture halted his progression.
“Do ye wish me to stop, lass?” he asked in a husky rasp, planting small kisses along her jaw line.
Still cupping her breast, venturing no further, Cael smiled against her skin as her pulse jumped beneath his lips. Luring. Inviting.
“I…it…it’s been a long time,” she confessed shyly.
“That’s not what I asked ye,” he reminded seductively.
His fingertips brushed the underside of her breast, a faint caress. Satisfaction washed over him as her pupils dilated further, compounding as the scent of her arousal filled his lungs. Bending, Cael covered her mouth in a taking kiss, and she surrendered.
“No,” she whispered, “I want you to keep kissing me.”
“Ah, lass. I want to do more than kiss ye,” he murmured against her silken lips.
Gathering her into his arms, not awaiting further assent on her part, he carried her up the stairs. Peeling the layers of clothing from her body as he expertly fanned the flames of her desire, Cael barely contained his own. He had to be careful, his thirst rearing, demanding he taste.
Paige reveled in his powerful embrace, a strange excitement coursing through her as he deftly touched and tasted his way over her body. Cael was an aggressive lover, ruggedly enthusiastic in their love play, leaving no doubt he would be just as assertive during lovemaking. So unlike the single experience with her former fiance. Paige’s inexperience taunted, self-consciousness rising in her thoughts, questioning her ability to…
Ye are perfect the way ye are, lass.
So natural to hear her dream lover’s thoughts - Cael’s thoughts - that the absurdity failed to penetrate the veil of pleasure his words draped, blocking uncertainty and doubt. Giving herself to the present, Paige savored each caress, each kiss, growing wild with rising want. Heat spread where his hands trailed, her naked flesh tingling in anticipation of his next searing touch, soft cries of passion escaping her at each new delight. Dexterous fingers stroked, probed, pleasured until she ached with need. She reached, unbuttoning the denim covering his lower body, desperate to bare the rest of his
flesh to her hands. His growl of pleasure dropped the bottom from her stomach, hitching her fervid emotions higher.
“Paige,” he choked out gutturally, “if ye go on further with me, I mean to be inside ye, lass. I willna be able to stop myself.”
Boldly, she pushed the material down over his hips taking the boxer-briefs along, not wanting him to stop. For this night Paige wanted all consuming passion to win out over her shyness, her hesitance, her loneliness.
I cannot keep running.
The thought was freeing, because she realized that she did not want to run from this man.
Ye couldna escape me if ye tried, lass.
The profound truth seeped into her consciousness. He was becoming a part of her, her thoughts, her very being. She locked away the fear that threatened her present joy, one very powerful truth looming in her mind. If she allowed herself to need Cael, to love him completely, what would happen if she lost him?
Leave yer what-ifs, Paige. I’m with ye now.
His insistence carried strength enough to banish dread from encroaching further. Attention returned to him, his body, the way he worshiped her; Paige soared. Rising over her, Cael pressed her hips wide and thrust deep, her shocked cry stilling his hips.
“Shh, lass,” he crooned. “Let me love ye; I was meant to love ye.”
Taking her mouth in a claiming kiss he withdrew slowly, thrusting deep anew, and a soft sigh caught in her throat met by his deeper, dark growl. He sought her breasts, suckling as he thrust hungrily, pinning her arms above her head. Cael dominated their lovemaking yet handled her with a reverence that encouraged her complete surrender to his will.
With tantric rhythms he penetrated swift and driving, taking her to the edge of release only to stop, then begin anew, lessening his thrusts in number each cycle until only one thrust took her to the brink – he along with her. Then he stopped, pinning her hips, preventing her moving and taking pleasure without his consent.
She begged. She moaned. She writhed.
He silenced her pleas with pleasuring kisses, stroking her thighs and hips as they came down together. Over and over he repeated the erotic practice, driving her higher and higher. Paige thought to die of pleasure, and a new desire took root in her. Lost in their passion she didn’t resist its call, scraping her teeth across his flesh, his reaction immediate and unabated.
Drink, lass…
His hips drove into her and climax silenced rational thought, this foreign need urging her along with his command. Paige sank her teeth into his flesh. The salty taste of blood touched her tongue, and blinding pleasure wracked her body, her cry keening as she released his neck, licking her lips, savoring his flavor.
What have I just done?
Reality crashed upon her, unwelcome and unwanted.
What you were born to do, Paige Kinnell.
His soothing touched her mind, easing her panic. But his smile revealed what her dreams had been telling all along. Cael Maccinnis bent his head and pierced her vein. Again, the sweet pulse of orgasm claimed her. Mindlessly she cleaved to him, clinging in pleasure, his heated essence filling her womb as his feral groan filled her ears. He closed her neck as pleasure waned.
Kiss my wound, lass. It will seal it off.
She obeyed, unknowing why as panic rose anew. A frightened scream threatened to pour from her lips as she frantically attempted to free herself from under his weight, but Cael held her fast in his arms, touching his forehead to hers.
“It’s all right, lass,” he soothed, knowing it would take much more to calm her. “This is part of it – the Awakening.”
“Let go of me!”
Her voice was small and frightened.
“I canna do that. It’s for the good of ye; else I’d let ye free.”
His cryptic language terrified her.
“Are you a vampire?”
“Aye, Paige. And ye are one as well.”
“That’s…that’s not true,” she denied, voice quivering in fear. “I’ve never hurt anyone like that before in my life!”
His deep, rumbling chuckle struck her as highly inappropriate. Not that any of this was appropriate.
“Ye didna hurt me, lass; ye gave me pleasure. I came hard inside ye just now, did I not?” The silken chord of his tone tied her in knots. “And when I drank from ye,” he continued with a wicked grin, “ye had yer pleasure with me.”
She quieted, not sure what was real anymore. With the crazy dreams she’d been having and now this, Paige seriously considered the possibility that she was cracking up.
“Am I losing my mind?” she whispered. “Is any of this real?”
“Yer not losin’ yer mind. But things are about to get intense, Paige. It will come on ye quick now that ye have the desire to drink. Ye need to come away with me. I can keep ye safe while ye change.”
“Awakening? While I change?”
“Yer becoming vampire, Paige.”
Terror like none she’d ever experienced passed through her at his words, and she thought she’d faint or become ill.
“Why did you do this to me?” she said, hysteria raising the pitch of her voice.
“I didna do this to ye, lass. It is in yer blood.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Ye were born half vampire. I only brought yer Awakening on.”
“How? Did you bite me before?”
“Aye, lass. I did. But there’s more. Yer blood called to me in a unique way, Paige Kinnell.”
She didn’t fight to get away any longer knowing it pointless, her panic abating. She was alive. She felt like herself – Paige - shy, bookish, boring Paige. Her mind refused to accept what he told her, and she wanted to wake up.
That’s it! I’m dreaming again!
The idea that she would awaken in her own bed, alone, that all this would be little more than a bad memory by lunchtime set her at ease. She’d been having absurd dreams for weeks, this just another.
Lass, this is no dream. I’m here with ye. I’ll be here as long as it takes to convince ye. Ye have bonded to me, and I couldna leave ye. I wouldna leave ye. Ye need me as I need ye.
The words played over and over in her mind. And the words he’d spoken afterward explaining what was to come, how she’d change, that they belonged to one another – were made for one another. She tossed and turned restlessly, the duality of her thoughts pulling her in opposing directions. She’d never felt the way she did with Cael. It was as if they’d known one another a lifetime, akin to what she’d heard about soul-mates. He was passionate about books and learning and history. He didn’t enjoy going out in crowds, preferring a quiet evening at home. He fit her the way a second half was supposed to.
He was crazy; he’d bitten her.
She had bitten him. She wanted to again.
A scream started, and Paige sat straight up in her bed. Eyes darting around the room, chest heaving, she realized she was alone, Cael’s absence a welcome relief.
And painful…mourned.
She wouldn’t think of that now. After what happened, or at least what she thought had happened, Paige could not see Cael again. Something made her too susceptible to his charms, too needy for his touch, too willing. She might not want to be alone, but she wanted to be safe. Cael Maccinnis was anything but safe. The tingling in her neck reminded her just how unsafe he was.
And how delicious.
Paige would never allow herself to love deeply enough to be hurt again. She had lost too much. Her parents, then Jake, had been taken from her, and none of it had been in her control. She’d sworn never to give up that kind of control again. Boring, yes. But at least she held the cards. Never again would her world be ripped from her in the blink of an eye, leaving her devastated, helpless, and alone. And to ensure that, Cael could not be a part of her world. She’d have the memories, and that would be enough. It had to.
The phone pulled her from her reverie, back to the predictable patterns of her life.
“Good morning, Brooke.”
Endless chatter ran together, and Paige could hardly determine whether her cousin was frantic or giddy.
“Slow down! I can barely make out what you’re saying.”
Paige held the phone out from her ear, not believing what she was hearing.
“Really? When? How am I supposed to get time off work so quickly?”
The string of words spilling from Brooke’s mouth was overwhelming, exciting, and downright impossible. Sissy had booked them all a getaway. They were to leave Friday evening. Paige set the phone on her bed-table and flung herself back against the pillows, laughter bubbling up. This was just the thing to divert her attention from Cael Maccinnis and all the strange things happening since meeting him. Two weeks away would give her time to think. Time to forget. But the thought of being away from Cael, not seeing him, not touching him, haunted her.
Dragging herself from the bed, Paige headed downstairs to start her morning routine. Thursday meant long hours at the library, so she packed a hearty lunch while the aroma of brewing coffee wafted through the air. Busily focusing on the tasks at hand, Paige forced down the nausea that built by the minute, toasting a single slice of bread in hope of settling her queasy stomach. After a few sips of coffee and bite of toast she rallied a bit, brightening the day’s outlook considerably. A brisk walk in the crisp morning air set her mind more at ease, and by lunchtime Paige felt almost normal.
“Has the university collection been pulled, Miss Kinnell?” Barbara Ross questioned. “It must be delivered before the close of business today.”
“It’s no trouble at all, Ms. Ross. Diana and Ruth are pulling the selections right now. Is there anything special you’d like me to add…”
Her voice trailed off as she hunched over the desk, gasping for breath and clutching her stomach.
“Miss Kinnell! Are you well?”
Paige knew she must have frightened her boss, for Barbara Ross did not inject emotion into her speech. Ever.
The Third Fate Page 6