"That's 'cause she ismore beautiful than them. They're all jealous," Jacob drawled with a laugh.
Micah grinned over at him knowingly, shaking his head at his twin's weird sense of humor, glad to see that he had obviously not taken Ailill's hurtful words of earlier to heart. His carefully worded explanation of all that the girl had revealed had most definitely helped. Micah, himself, was pleased that it had taken no time at all to convince Jacob to go with the girl, wherever she wished to lead them, no matter how long it took for her to come to terms... to lie with Jacob, as she always put it..
"I ain't kidding," Jacob stated emphatically. "Y'all should've heard 'em when I went down there with James, on his morning rounds. Petty little wenches; most of 'em think that Abby's a snob, 'cause she don't go down the mountain much; she keeps us all for herself, they said. None of them like it that I've stuck with her, except for Janie Forrester. But she claims she knew we were supposed to be with Ailill, not her, and that's why she never accepted more than a little slap and tickle from me, and that incredible kiss from you, her words, not mine."
That elicited a laugh from Micah, as well, though it was tinged with a sudden case of nerves. He'd very nearly slept with the lovely Janie when Ailill had left them for a two month stint. The only thing that had stopped him was not his feelings for Abby, but the girl's belly, nicely rounded with her first pregnancy. He'd worried that he might hurt the baby, and didn't care to take such a chance. He shook his head. "Abby may have the foulest mouth I ever heard when she's angry, and she may enjoy spending time with us, away from the troubles of the world, but she ain't a snob, far from it. If she was meant to be with us, like Janie has said, then I say screw all those girls, who needs 'em? Besides y'all, of course; I know I sure as hell never did."
Quirking a somewhat shy grin at the purposeful barb, Micah leaned away from Jacob's half-hearted swipe toward his dark head. Jacob leaned closer, peering into his twin's face. "What'd she say about us?" he whispered anxiously. "She doesn't really believe that we're...hmm...well, you know. Does she?"
Glancing around, almost sure he smelled Ailill's sweet scent on the breeze, Micah nodded, wide-eyed when he looked back at his other half. "She does, I asked her straight." Jacob blinked in disbelief. "She believes we've beentogether, and she thinks a lot of other stuff, too. It was enough to make me fair sick, hearing her say it. I doubt I've ever felt so disgusted with my own self, and it ain't even true; not even half of what she said was right!"
Eyes narrowed, Jacob colored darkly. "Well, did y'all tell her that? Did you defend us?" he demanded, his tone one of extreme agitation.
Micah shrugged. "I dunno, man. To be honest, I can't really remember it all that well. It was like she was killin' me; like I was suffocating under her words. And she was crying like you wouldn't believe. I ain't never seen her so upset, Jacob. She was carrying on so bad I had to literally shut her up." His hand came up, fingers curling around Jacob's lips in example. "Then, when she stopped talking and crying, I think she wanted to do it!"
His look was amusing, but Jacob stared at him piercingly, his strong jaw clenching and unclenching with the ideas swirling through his own mind. "Did y'all say anything about McKell, Micah?" A quick shake of the head was Micah's answer and Jacob sighed heavily, displeased. From where she was standing, Ailill could literally feel the tension between the two men. She wondered uneasily what exactly their daughter had to do with any of it, but there was no way to ask. Yet. Not without revealing herself.
"Y'all said not to say a thing about us, Jacob. So I haven't." Micah's tone was wary, his gaze steady on Jacob's stern face. "Maybe it'd be better if we told her, everything. At least she'd have more to go on for why we are the way we are."
Jacob's gaze bore into his for a few beats before sliding away. He had the unsettling impression that they were being watched, though even when he looked behind them, there seemed to be no one there. He looked thoughtful for awhile, sure that Ailill was somewhere close by, and turned suddenly to Micah with a darkly decisive look. "I think she's here. Watching us."
He did not whisper the words, nor say them aloud, yet Micah stiffened, hearing them as clearly as if Jacob had bellowed them for all to hear. He had been feeling her presence, as well, and he eyed his twin uneasily, seeing the way Jacob was looking at him, a familiar gleam in his eye; a golden ember. He had last seen that look months before, when he was still wounded from the cougar attack. "No way, Jacob. It ain't the right time and you know it." Micah's own voice answered, though he looked around one more time, hoping that Ailill had not come back yet, because he knew what Jacob was going to do and it wouldn't be pretty; because he knew that he would not stop him, as he had the last time... as he had the last so many times.
Jacob's perfectly chiseled face moved closer, full, sensual lips parted ever so slightly, as if, in his excitement, he could not take in enough air. When his lips lit on the soft flesh of Micah's jaw, hovering there, Jacob hissed softly, a low rumble emanating from deep within, as if he were a lion preparing to feed. Almost willing to answer the call this time, on the cusp of giving in to his own strange need, Micah's head fell back on his neck, the movement almost in slow motion, and closed his eyes, heart thumping madly at the feel of razor sharp canines sinking deeply into his flesh. Jacob was making soft suckling noises, growling with growing contentment, the wish to show Ailill the plain truth of the matter easily becoming a memory as he sat back, sated in a most non-sexual way, his own throat instantly bared to Micah's uncommon voracity, the man's fingers digging deep into the thick muscles of Jacob's arms as he gulped hungrily, his own animal sounds far more intense than Jacob's had been, far more demanding. It had been a very long time since he had allowed himself such luxury, though he gave in to his twin's demands on occasion. Far too long he had gone this time, close on a year, and the proof of his own self-denial came in the form of Jacob struggling to move away as Micah drained more than usual, unable to force himself to stop. There was an urgency in him that Jacob could not understand. But Ailill could.
Jacob gasped, lightheaded almost to the point of passing out, when Ailill suddenly appeared and knelt before them. His dark eyes pleaded for help, for understanding, and, giving a hard yank to Micah's long hair, she released him, holding the front of Jacob's shirt with one hand to keep him from falling backward off the couch, holding Micah's raven locks in what should have been a tear-jerking stranglehold with the other, though it did not have such a fortuitous effect. Her eyes widened when he hissed at her, the feral beast which he so closely resembled at times suddenly inches from her face, from her throat. Boldly, as she had with the wolves in the Dead Wood, Ailill bared the slender column, unafraid of what he could do to her, of what it would most certainly mean for her. Jacob yanked her back with a suddenness that made her head swim.
"Don't, Ailill. It ain't time for you yet." Jacob's voice was husky, tired; abnormally commanding.
The tone drew her eyes to him briefly and she noticed that his other arm was holding Micah back, away from her, until he took on his own look of normalcy once again. Micah's eyes glittered when they met hers, an odd golden shimmer in the rainbow hued orbs clearly giving the woman any proof she had wished for in regards to the twin's inherent legacy. Her gaze swept over Jacob, noting the same proof, the same odd change to his own features. His face was a rather pallid shade of gray, though she could see that it was turning slowly to a dusty rose as his body compensated for the unusual loss of his blood. The reason why, the plain truth of the matter, struck her at last; a tight knot formed in the pit of her stomach as Ailill watched the men watch her.
"You're bloodsuckers..." The whispered words made her head fill with too many questions, too many answers she had wished to learn. It made her shudder, momentarily, and ease back, away from the men who had become her best friends; her mates, in the mingling of their blood with hers, their lifeforces a part of her very own now. Disbelief crossed over her face, widened her eyes, followed quickly by denial, and, at last, appr
ehensive acceptance. She leaned forward.
"You're bloodsuckers?" Ailill demanded calmly. The dark heads of each man nodded in unison, their eyes still an unusual mix of colors brought on by the addition of one another's blood coursing through their veins, their magnificent bodies. "How...I mean, mphmm, since when?" Her eyes glided smoothly from one to the other and back again, renewed disbelief evident in the blue depths.
"Since birth." Jacob shrugged dismissively, not troubled by her reaction. He, personally, had seen much worse than the slight grimace, the denial, which Ailill was trying very hard to quell, much to her credit. "It's why we heal so fast; why we are still alive and our siblings are not. Kiah would not allow them to enrich themselves."
The explanation was simple enough. Even now there were a few clans in the Isles, close-knit folk who were, by most accounts, self-driven to the point of rabid inbreeding, though Ailill knew many of them from a nearby village in the Highlands, and they had always seemed a normal bunch; a few were her own kin, in fact, hailing from far back in the histories. It seemed highly unlikely that the two young men were from the same bloodlines, however, given the fact that their real father was not one of that particular branch, and their own mother...
"Your mother," Ailill said quietly, watching Micah intently. "Who is she? Which clan? Do you even know?"
"Mackenzie, I think, why?" Jacob sat up, interest in what the tiny woman might be getting at burning brightly in his eyes. Ailill visibly balked, shaking her head in denial. He was right, though. Ainsley had been a Mackenzie, as well as a Morna. But they couldn't possibly know that, unless they knew who their true sire was. Could they?
"Nay, I will not make suppositions in regards to yon raven Lady. Not without researching everything to the fullest." Her piercing gaze settled on Jacob's flushed, handsome face. "This does put a new twist on things, most definitely. I will have to consult with a few people back in Scotland over this."
"And? When will that be?" Jacob hid a smile at the severity of her expression. "It's just about time, ain't it? Only a few hours?"
"You said we're going with you," Micah reminded evenly; the first words he'd said since nearly attacking her came out sounding gruff. Ailill eyed him closely. The spot on his neck was nearly invisible, like a very pale hickey. There were no puncture wounds at all now, though there had been. She had seen them clearly when she yanked him from his twin's bared throat, sure that Jacob would die if Micah had kept on; four tiny holes, the beads of blood deep scarlet against the bronze skin of his throat, the pale blue lifeline pumping steadily on just beneath the surface.
"Aye, I did. When the time is right, which it is not. I explained all that, Micah," she warned. Her tone sounded suddenly uncertain. "But I can't take you at all if it means that my people might possibly be in danger. We have been very particular, for the most part, in whom will be accepted in the tribal branches. Our blood is very important to us, ye ken?" There was a smile hidden behind her eyes.
"So's ours," Jacob argued. "We stick together for a reason, Ailill. Besides, it ain't like you didn't know. We've both tasted you, now ain't we?"
"Aye, a wee nip here and there. Naught such as the beasts which you become with each other, though. Dangerous, is that."
"Hey, we don't force ourselves on anyone. Including you." Micah held her gaze for a long, intense moment. "Unless a person wants us to, we don't... partake of anyone besides each other. It is our one and only rule; we follow it very strictly. And you thought we were committing incest."
Glowering, Ailill sat up straighter, a defensive posture that both men had come to know well in the past few months. "Aye, Micah, and I still believe it. I saw the proof of what the feedingdid to you with my own eyes." Her gaze rolled lazily over the still slightly tented front of his kilt, her face breaking out in a lopsided grin when he flushed darkly. "You see, if ye wished me to believe otherwise, you would have found a better way to tell me whom ye are. Instead, I watched what went on here, and it gave me the right to form my own conclusions on the matter."
Quickly becoming angry with her teasing, Micah purposely turned away. "Y'all don't get it, Abby," he muttered through clenched teeth. His gaze swept around to her questioning face. "I ain't used to doing that. It's been a year or so. I don't like that part of me. I never have and I never will. And you, all by yourself, you make me want to bring you into the fold every time I love you." His expression fierce, Micah reached out, grasping her hands hard between thumb and index fingers so that her palms were visible.
"This," he hissed softly, urging Ailill's gaze downward, to the scars on her hands, the older ones standing out in silvery relief against the pink flesh, beneath the more recent, not quite healed cuts of their own making, an oddly shaped X in the palm of each tiny hand. "This is what I understand. The need to mark you as my own; to claim you in a visible way, as Tiernan MacDuff has already done. I understand the feeling behind it, Abby. I hadto give in to Jacob's request this time, I had to do it. It was all I could do to stop myself from opening you earlier, back in the wood, from draining every last drop of your own enchanted blood, and still the need is upon me. Ican't help it!"
"Aye, I understand what you mean, Micah, only," hesitating as she searched for the proper words to say, Ailill scowled, coming up vexingly blank. She shook her head, glancing surreptitiously at the lengthening shadows. Micah let go her hands with obvious reluctance and stood, reaching a large tanned hand down to her. Ailill blinked up at him in surprise.
"Come, a leannan. We will bathe together, and heal our hurts. Questions can wait until we have more time for discussion. I don't think you want to meet with your kin, or your Druid informant, in such a state of mind, or of body."
Without a word, Ailill hauled herself to her feet, feeling beaten down, exhausted, feeling thoroughly filthy. There was not time to bathe andto question either man, for she knew that she had much to say to them and that it would take a while. Micah's eyes were following her every move, as were Jacob's, even as he gathered the sleeping bairn into her sling; both watching her to see, would she argue against them, or would she invite them to come along this time. The former of both quandaries won out as Ailill led the way to the heated pool deep beneath the earth, to wash, to heal, her raven loves following close on her heels. It was simply too soon.
Bacchanalia
True to her word, Ailill was back in two days time, no better for information than she had been when she left. It was downright irritating. To top that off, her cousins had sent word... they would be delayed, unable to join her at the end of the month. Something was going on within her family, and being left out of the loop, being stuck in America, far from her loved ones, was more than simply disheartening. She did not understand the secrecy surrounding her cousin's unexplained absence anymore than the reason for such a sudden change of plans. No one would tell her anything, her parents damningly closemouthed even when she demanded the answers she sought. Jacob and Micah were as clueless as she and that bothered her; it left no one to talk to.
Except baby McKell. As she reached the two-month, and then the three-month milestone, the bairn was certainly a beauty, as soft and cuddly as could be, her silken curls as dark as the men who'd claimed her. She found herself whispering her concerns into that sweet face, more than once. It helped. In more ways than one. The tiny body became her shield when the desires of the brothers grew too great for Ailill's stubborn denial of them. In her wish to not pit brother against brother, the tiny woman chose abstinence, much to Micah's growing dismay. Jacob had taken to the trails he'd trodden before Ailill came into his life, though, to his credit, he was much less boastful of his conquests. The fact that she felt him slipping away every few days, that she could not completely ignore a streak of envy for whomever it was that the man might be lying with, was naught but a bane to her own precarious love life. It would be just a matter of time before Micah followed in his brother's footsteps, she knew, for both men were more alike than even they knew.
As the last of th
e colorful leaves dropped from the trees and the air grew chill with the onset of Winter, Ailill Bascna-Morna realized, almost too late, just how isolated she had become. How lonely for familiar company and home. These men, these midnight eyed brothers, had made her soft, vulnerable to the desires of her own torn heart. What she needed was time away, from Hidden Jewel, from her parents continuing secrecy. The smell of spit-up on her shirt, in her long hair, made her realize that she was also badly in need of a break from playing Mam to the growing bairn. When the dark brothers approached her on the morning before Christmas Eve, a unified effort to take her out "on a real date", as they'd said, Ailill could not find it in herself to refuse them, though she'd certainly tried.
They spent the evening in company with a large group of peers, agemates who had gathered for a last hurrah before the doldrums of winter set in, to celebrate the Christian holiday in style. Because her parents were home once again, more than pleased with their role of in-house babysitter, Ailill chose to go at the last minute despite a certainty that she had smelled snow in the air all day, though the sky had been crystal clear, a lovely blue that matched the eyes of one girl who would not leave off the two raven-haired brothers from the moment they stepped through the door into the gathering hall of Willow Wisp.
Far too beautiful for the other lads to ignore, it seemed as if all of them gathered around Ailill like a freshly tapped keg of beer as soon as she stepped into view behind her twin dates. They ogled her, those mortal men, unashamedly begged for a dance, despite their own partners standing close by. A stranger, easily proclaimed by her looks, her manner of dress and speech, she’d been dutifully snubbed by most of the teenaged and twenty-something girls since she'd arrived in May; the few who seemed welcoming were nice enough at first, though it soon became obvious they were more interested in Micah and Jacob, her constant companions and by far the most attractive young men in the room, than the daughter of the town’s founders; too naturally lovely, too petite, too different compared to every other girl there, the fiery haired Ailill felt entirely out of place in a room full of blond and brunette strangers.
Hidden Jewel (Heartfire Series) Page 35