“So how many throats as he ripped out lately?” Charlie asked in as light a tone as she could manage
He lifted the wine bottle and refilled her glass, then said darkly, “Now that would be telling, my dear, wouldn’t it?”
Neither Charlie nor Meg knew how to reply, so Meg changed the subject. “How do you stay in touch with the rest of the world without phones?”
He studied her for a long moment before he said, “We’re quite isolated up here and it does take a bit of getting used to. Cell phones don’t work with the mountains blocking the signal from the closest tower, which isn’t very close at all. I have a satellite phone for my personal use. Did you need to make a call, Meg?”
“No…just asking. But I would like to know about a portrait we saw up in the gallery...two of them in fact...that were very interesting.”
He broke in with a smile...the genial host once again. “Most of the rather indifferent portraits I managed to reclaim for the manor would not attract your attention, so I must assume you mean Grey MacMorley, the Laird of Blackcreag during the Fifteenth century. The girl is his Lady Fiona...an arranged marriage and not a happy one. She was only fifteen or so at the time. I found her portrait in the same gallery as his. As I said earlier, much of the estate was sold off over the years. I was very lucky to be able to trace the provenance of both portraits back to here. She is quite lovely, isn’t she?”
Meg nodded, feeling more than a twinge of disappointment after hearing that bit of news. She couldn’t be attracted to him...a man in a portrait...a man dead how many centuries? She would have to be some kind of nut, wouldn’t she?
Her self-interrogation was interrupted by Seth’s next remark. “He was reputed to be a vampire...a real one. According to family legend, he was killed by the crowd that stormed his castle and took him while he slept. I’ll spare you the details of his death since we are having supper.”
For which Meg was grateful. There was something about Grey MacMorley that sent shivers of awareness to all parts of her...even parts that had never shivered before. She barely heard the rest of the conversation...something about a shooting range tomorrow. Would she dream of him that night? She sighed and Charlie looked at her queerly. Time for the real world, Meg, she reminded herself. What would she do with a vampire lover even if she had one? The mind boggled!
***
After supper they had coffee on the terrace with Seth, where the mingled fragrances from the garden around them grew headier as night approached.. Above them, the sky flamed with the high flung colors of the setting sun, while, off in the distance, the mountains were burnished with the same golden brush as the castle perched high on its bluff overlooking the sea. Somewhere on the uplands a sheep bleated and was answered by another, then a wolf-like howl drifted over the moor.
“There you see? Cerberus is on the prowl. We’ve had no wolves in Scotland for two hundred and fifty years,” Seth told them pointedly.
“With or without Orianna?” Charlie asked.
He shrugged. “Let’s hope with...otherwise....” He let his voice trail off.
“The throat thing. We get it,” Meg said with a shudder.
They excused themselves shortly afterwards but not before Charlie had promised to go shooting with Seth the following morning. Another howl decided them against exploring the grounds, so they found their way back to the library and selected a few books.
“Might as well head upstairs and get ready for bed. We still don’t know if Orianna and Allyn are together someplace. If we put him in the position of choosing between us, you know as well as I do what will happen,” Meg said.
Charlie snorted derisively. “I know only too well. We’d lose at this point, even though her...hmmm...attentions may be the death of him.”
“So we might as well go upstairs and settle in. Do you suppose Daryna has laid out our night things and put a mint on our pillows?” Meg asked dryly.
Charlie smiled and replied, “Something chocolate would be better. You don’t suppose we could take Daryna with us when we leave?”
“Remember the old saying ’If wishes were fishes horses could fly’? I don’t know exactly what that means, but it seems to answer your question By the way...I wouldn’t mind too terribly if you slept in my room tonight.”
“First night jitters?”
Meg was thoughtful for a long moment. “I don’t know. I mean...sleeping with a rolling dervish is no treat...but neither are some other possibilities.”
“It’s whirling dervish not rolling. Sleeping with someone that snores like you do is not exactly a treat either, but I was going to suggest the very same thing. Maybe tomorrow I can get my hands on a gun when we go shooting,” Charlie said thoughtfully.
Meg wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I hope that ‘we’ part didn’t include me. Besides, he didn’t ask me, remember?”
“I’m sure he meant to. I really don’t want to leave you here alone.”
“Well...let’s see...there’s Johns, the jovial Mrs. Bently, Daryna and about a million other people here. None of which should be secretly wishing to do me in during your absence. Besides...who’s going to keep an eye out for Allyn should he bother to make an appearance?”
Charlie laughed. “You’re right. You should be fine as long as you don’t go poking around this place on your own. You won’t, will you?”
Meg frowned. “I promise I won’t do anything you wouldn’t want me to do, if you promise to quit bossing me around. For heavens sake! I made one teensy mistake and I’m never allowed to forget it!”
Not wanting to go where this was heading, Charlie changed the subject. “How about a nice hot shower? There’s probably no lack of hot water in this place!”
***
After settling into the enormous Tudor bed, they both tried to read, but without a bedside light on Charlie’s side, and it soon grew too dark for her to see. And Meg was in no mood to concentrate on a book. She was the first to break the silence.
“I’m not so sure you should go shooting with him tomorrow.”
“Why not? What better chance will I have to get my hands on a gun short of stealing the one in the library? You can still come with me. It will give you a chance to get in some practice.”
“You know I hate guns...well...hate may be overstating it. Let’s just say I consider them necessary evils.” Another howl drifted in through the open French doors. “Do you think she’s out there prowling the moors with our baby brother?”
“I don’t think he looked well enough to prowl anywhere. How about some sleep? It’s been a long day and likely to be even longer tomorrow.”
“You go ahead. I’m going to try and read for a bit longer,” Meg told her.
Charlie mumbled, “Good night” then turned on her side and quickly drifted off to sleep. Meg smiled enviously. Charlie could sleep through most anything, though, in all fairness, she awoke just as quickly.
She turned her attention back to her book, but her eyes soon lost focus and the book dropped from her hands. Turning off the bedside light, she slid under the covers and fell fast asleep.
***
The small French mantle clock had just ‘pinged’ midnight, when something woke Meg. She looked around groggily. What was it, she wondered? A noise...a touch? It had to be something...something that had taken her from what promised to be a very good dream. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. Moonlight streamed through the open doors and cut a wide swathe in the darkness at the foot of the bed. The rest of the room was in deep shadow...and quiet...very quiet. Then she heard it. A rustle...a sibilant whisper...a low growl. Something was definitely there and not the good kind of something, she thought, as she poked Charlie hard in the ribs and whispered, “Wake up! We have company and its not the friendly sort!”
Charlie was awake instantly. Sitting up in bed, she whispered back, “What’s going on? Why don’t you turn on the light?”
Then they both saw it...or rather...her. It was Orianna dressed in a filmy white gown of another
era, her long dark hair writhing like Medusa’s snakes around her white face. Her eyes were enormous...her mouth contorted as she pointed a long bone white finger at them and hissed, “I will come for you.”
“Like hell you will,” Charlie shouted, as she flung herself off the bed and made a grab for Orianna only to have her arms close around thin air. Meg fumbled for the bedside lamp, but by the time she managed to find its pull chain, Orianna had vanished. Both sisters simply stared at each other, then Meg raked her fingers through her short blonde curls and smiled dryly. “Well, you have to admit...that woman gets around!”
Charlie returned her smile. “And quickly! Where do you suppose she disappeared to?”
Meg shrugged and patted the bed next to her. “The question we need to ask first, is how did she get in here? I locked the hall door and the adjoining one to your room. But the French doors are open and if she is a you know what, maybe she came in that way?”
“So...you think she turned into a bat and flapped her way in? That would be the only way she could make it through that window. I checked when we first got here and it’s a sheer drop to the flagstones below with no ivy or convenient drain spout like in the movies.”
“Okay...Miss Knows Everything, how did she get in?” Meg asked, chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully.
“Well...that sort of leaves two possibilities. One being she really is a vampire and can turn into a bat at will, which I am not inclined to believe or.....”
“Or what?” Meg asked not liking the first possibility at all.
“There’s a secret way into this room. You’ve had a good look at this place...or at least the beginning of a good look. Doesn’t it seem likely this manor is riddled with secret doors, rooms, and passages?”
“More than likely and I’m not going to sleep a wink in here until I’ve found the one that coughed up Orianna,” Meg said emphatically. “I’ll take this wall and you can get started over there.”
Charlie sighed. “Now who’s being the bossy boots? I really think this could wait till morning. Orianna has done her best to scare us and I don’t think she’ll be back again tonight.”
A long time later, Chalrie crawled wearily back into bed and pulled the covers over her head. “That’s enough, Meg!” she muttered. “If there is a hidden door, I will help you find it...in the morning...at a decent hour! Good night!”
Meg bounced up next to her and said close to her ear. “Fine! Go to sleep like there’s not a chance we’ll be bitten in our sleep. See you in the morning. Good night.”
She turned off the light and sighed heavily, then bounced around a few more times just to annoy her sister. When that didn’t produce a reaction, she sighed again and slid under the covers just as something landed on the foot of the bed. Sitting up quickly, she looked down at a glowing ball of light. “Charlie....” No answer or, at least, no articulate one. “Charlie...” Meg tried again, peeling back the covers.
"Meg, if you don’t shut up and let me get some sleep I swear it won’t be a vampire that bites you!”
“Look! There’s something at the foot of our bed.”
Charlie rolled onto her back and reluctantly opened one eye. “I don’t see...” she began and then she did. “What the...?”
As they watched in fascination, the ball shape-shifted and grew more and more solid, then morphed into a large white cat.
“Cloud!” they both exclaimed at once. “How did you get here?” an astounded Meg asked. He answered with a long “meow”, then made his way daintily up the bed between them. First he gave Meg a cat kiss on her nose, then rubbed his head under Charlie’s chin and settled on top of her stomach, where he began to purr loudly.
Charlie’s hand trembled as she stroked his long silky fur. She had never told anyone how much she missed him. “I never thought I’d see you again,” she told him as tears ran freely down her cheeks. “How did you ever find us?”
He stared at her, unblinkingly, with knowing eyes that gradually closed in sleep.
Meg smiled. Cloud had visited everyone at Hensley Hall, but he’d always been Charlie’s. And then she corrected herself. Charlie had always been his. “It’s nothing short of a miracle that he found his way here. I can’t even begin to imagine how.”
Charlie brushed away her tears with the back of her hand. “Do you think he’ll be safe here? This is all strange turf to him and not the friendly kind.”
Meg reached out to pet him. “Probably safer than us, but I’m glad to see you have a fur child of your own to worry about. Besides, what’s the worse that could happen to him? He’s already dead.”
Charlie didn’t find that very comforting. Long after Meg had fallen fast asleep, she lay awake with Cloud sprawled across her. She was afraid to close her eyes...afraid that he would vanish as suddenly as he had appeared. Towards dawn she dozed off and, when she awoke her fears were realized...he was gone.
***
Seth was just leaving the breakfast room when a sleepy Meg and Charlie were directed there by Mrs. Bently. “Ah, ladies. I hope you slept well. Charlie, I will be back to pick you up in say half an hour? It’s a bit of a drive up to the lodge and the trail rough so we’ll take the Land Rover. I was afraid I’d have to cancel. Thick sea fog earlier, but an eastern breeze has pushed it off shore. Meg, I’m not sure what we have to entertain you.”
“No need to worry about me. I’ll be fine,” she murmured, trying to stifle a yawn. “I’m sure I’ll find something to amuse me.”
He lifted one brow and smiled sardonically. “I’m sure you will. Half and hour, Charlie. I’ll meet you out front.” Then he was off.
They had almost finished eating, when Orianna drifted slowly through the door dressed in a designer something or other that suited her to perfection and made both sisters feel woefully frumpy by comparison. “If it isn’t the Ravynne sisters all busy with their day. I trust you slept well?” she purred as she made a pass along the breakfast buffet, lifting a cover here and there.
“Very well, thank you,” Charlie replied evenly. “In fact, never better. How about you, Meg?”
“Out like a light. Though I did hear a noise, which turned out to be a rat. Did you know you have rats here? Someone should do something about them.”
Orianna’s dark eyes narrowed to mere slits and her smile was far from amused. “Are you quite sure you didn’t mean ’bat’? There is a Baobhan Sith...a vampire...that walks these halls who reportedly looks a lot like me. Might even be me. Good day.” Then she was gone.
The sisters smiled. “She does work rather hard at being mysterious,” Meg commented as she took another bite of her potato scone.
“Yes...and does an excellent job of being a thoroughly offensive bitch. Where do you suppose she’s headed?”
“Don’t know, and without definite proof she’s not with Allyn, it’s back to biding our time. Something I don’t do all that well and I’m not half as impatient as you are,” Meg replied glumly.
They finished their breakfast without further interruptions and, a short time later, Charlie drove off with Seth, leaving Meg at loose ends. She decided to explore the main floor and opened one door after another. She relocated the summer parlor where they’d had tea...found another parlor decorated in Regency style furniture with sage green accents and a very masculine card room with animal heads sprouting from the walls.
Meg shuddered and moved on. The ballroom was elegant with a row of crystal chandeliers marching down the length of its high-coffered ceiling. She closed her eyes and imagined the music...the dancers in their kilts and plaids. There would be a piper and the music would swell and drift out over the moors. But that was long ago...now the air was heavy with something she could not name...or wouldn’t even if she could. She opened her eyes and looked around slowly. There was something very wrong here. Some evil that was associated with the large stain on the parquet floor. Whatever it was, it didn’t welcome her intrusion.
She moved on and decided to settle in the library. Selecting a b
ook, she curled up in a deep leather chair next to the window, where she could see past the gardens and the moors beyond.. The sky was gray and brooding and the castle high on its bluff looked bleak and haunted. She smiled to herself. Of course it was haunted. It just had to be, didn’t it? It was quite probably the last refuge of the MacMorley vampire, the Laird of Blackcreag.
She turned her attention to a young boy leading a spirited chestnut down the lane that edged the garden. Nearby, a man in a faded flannel shirt clipped the hedges, then moved on to the other side. All the normal, everyday stuff others saw, while she looked for ghosts in every corner, she thought, shaking her head, as she opened her book and began to read. Within minutes, her eyes began to grow heavy. She was almost asleep, when something caught her attention. A familiar figure was climbing the trail up to the moors. Allyn? It was too far to be sure, but she had to know, though how in the world would she ever catch up with him? Then she smiled. "The 'shortest distance between two points is a straight line'," she murmured. After checking in both directions, she opened the window, then dropped to the lawn below.
She looked around again. So far so good. No one had seen her unorthodox exit. Sprinting along the row of hedges, she made it to the lane and slowed her pace as much as she dared. Not good to draw too much attention, she thought, but found herself automatically quickening her pace. An old man currying a gelding in the paddock, called to her as she passed. “I’d not be walking up on the moors, Miss, if I were you. The sea fog is likely to blow back in if the wind shifts and it can do that most any time.”
She offered him her best smile. “I won’t be gone long and at the first sign of fog, I’ll head right back,” she told him as casually as she could manage. He was still shaking his head, when she turned the corner and, safely out of sight, sprinted ahead. She had lost valuable time and may well have lost any chance of finding her brother.
She looked around. There was no sign of Allyn...just miles of hilly treeless terrain dotted with sheep. Maybe if she climbed to a high place? She ran as fast as she could through the gorse, rough grass and heather. Rocky outcroppings poked through the thin earth and she climbed up on the highest one she could find. She turned slowly, looking in all directions, but there was no sign of Allyn anywhere. Maybe the whole thing had just been a figment of her imagination? He really hadn’t looked like he was in any shape for a hike last time she saw him.
The Vampire Laird (A Ravynne Sisters Paranormal Mystery/Romance) Page 8