DanceoftheVampires

by Cornelia Amiri

  Dance of the Vampires

  Cornelia Amiri

  One of Ian’s six brothers kicks over the stones of an ancient cairn, unknowingly freeing Sorcha and her six sisters from underhill. The seven handsome Scots are enchanted by the voluptuous temptresses until they turn on the men. Ian captures Sorcha, giving his brothers a chance to escape. With the dark fey woman still in his grasp, Ian is saved by the rising sun.

  Her sisters vanish with the light of dawn and Sorcha is trapped in the mortal realm. The seductress can’t resist Ian’s attentions as he stirs throbbing urges she’s never felt before. Ian is bewitched by the wild delights offered by this vampire siren. He can’t get enough of her. Still, her wicked sisters and his highland brothers want nothing more than to attack and kill each other. Will Sorcha and Ian’s sizzling passion prove strong enough to overcome the differences between the dark fey and humans?

  Publisher’s Note: This story was previously published elsewhere under the title Vampire Dancer, and has been expanded and revised for Ellora’s Cave.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Dance of the Vampires

  ISBN 9781419939532

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Dance of the Vampires Copyright © 2012 Cornelia Amiri

  Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky

  Cover design by Syneca

  Photography by Shutterstock.com

  Electronic book publication March 2012

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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  Dance of the Vampires

  Cornelia Amiri

  Chapter One

  Ian wobbled out the door of the pub ahead of his six brothers. Focusing as hard as he could, pushing one foot in front of the other, he stumbled across a field in the moonlight. A clump of gorse and heather brushed against his jeans.

  “Brother, be careful not to step on a thistle in the dark,” Lachlan yelled in slurred speech.

  “I have my boots on,” Ian snapped.

  “Are you sure, little brother?” Malcolm, the oldest, called out. “You usually run barefoot and cry like a girl when you get a thorn in your foot.”

  “I was five years old the last time that happened.” Tired of the lot of them, he stomped ahead. “I’d go off by myself and leave all of you here, but someone has to lead you home.”

  Well past midnight, silence engulfed the field until Calin burst out laughing and couldn’t stop.

  “Shut up,” Angus, the middle brother, yelled.

  “He’s hammered.” Errol nodded his head toward him. “He cannot help it.”

  “Well, I do not know what’s so funny or why we had to leave right when I spotted the pretty women in the pub.” Tavish kicked a stone with his foot as he tromped through the grass with his brothers.

  “Because we are all drunk.” Lachlan’s body wavered, leaning forward then back. “That is why the lassies started looking so bonny to you. Those were the same ones you called old and ugly when they first came in, you bampot.”

  “They were old, that was Liam’s mother and aunt.” Angus grabbed Tavish’s head and jostled it back and forth. He ducked out of Angus’ way.

  “Ooch!” Ian jumped back.

  “What is wrong with you?” Malcolm set his hand on his hip.

  Ian pointed to the ancient mound of stones caked over with dirt and grass. “I almost stepped on a fairy mound.” His stomach knotted.

  “Brother, are you afraid of a pile of old stones?” Calin threw his head back and rocked with laughter.

  “It’s a cairn.” Ian’s heart still thudded from the near miss. “Any who disturb it will be cursed.”

  “I dare you to knock it over.” Errol crossed his arms over his chest.

  Ian stepped back, a horrified look on his handsome face. “I will not.”

  “I will.” With long, sure strides, Tavish stepped toward the ancient gravesite.

  “Do not do it.” Ian’s belly clenched even tighter, until he felt sharp jabs of pain.

  Before the other six could stop him, Tavish drew back his foot and crashed it into the sacred cairn with a hard kick. A loud, sharp gasp from each of his brothers hung in the air. One lone stone rolled free of the mound.

  Malcolm’s mouth dropped open. “You disturbed the fey.”

  “You’ve done it now.” Lachlan stepped back, attempting to separate himself from the sacrilege.

  “He dared me.” Tavish pointed at Errol. “I had to do it, now didn’t I?”

  “Errol’s a turnip-headed bampot,” Calin shouted. “You too, Tavish.”

  “I do not like it.” Ian shook his head. “It’s sacred. It’s cursed.” The knot in his stomach froze, growing as cold as ice.

  “This is bad.” Angus shook his head.

  “Let’s keep walking.” Calin slid his foot forward with a confident stride.

  Malcolm bobbed his head. “We should hurry home before something happens.”

  “We are,” Errol snapped. “We’re in this field taking a shortcut, remember?”

  “Come on.” Malcolm headed away from the disturbed monument. “Walk faster.” He took the lead as the others followed.

  “Look.” Ian came to an abrupt stop.

  His brothers froze as their gazes turned to where he pointed his finger. Seven women, all in odd dresses of green tartan silk, stood beside the cairn. Their lush, scarlet lips curved into smiles as seductive as warm kisses.

  Ian’s pulse hammered.

  Errol stepped up to them, stopping right in front of the fairy mound. “Why are girls as pretty as you wandering around McLeod’s farm this late at night?”

  All seven answered in turn.

  “Something disturbed our sleep.”

  “So we came to look about.”

  “Then we got hungry and decided to pick up something to eat.”

  “When we ran into you seven handsome men.”

  “Nice to meet all of you.”

  “We like to dance.”

  “Dance with us.”

  Ian gazed at the last woman who spoke. Her complexion was radiant, skin as smooth and luminescent as alabaster. Every line of her body, her long legs to her dainty feet, her ample hips to her tiny waist and curvaceous bust, her long, firm arms, slender neck, and flowing raven hair, reminded him of the lines that swirled and looped in Celtic tracery and knotwork. She was a work
of art.

  Her gown was a silk plaid, squares of vibrant green, like the hills, crossed with stripes of beige and ivory, like the sea coast. As if sculpted to her body, the dress enhanced her curves. Gathered at the neckline with a round Celtic brooch, it was belted at the waist with a triple-corded belt of gold. The flowing silk exposed the long calves and the slender ankles of her creamy legs. She sauntered toward him with fluid strides. Her arms, hips and breasts swayed in an entrancing rhythm. As she moved, he could see her erect nipples beneath the veil of thin fabric.

  His mouth went dry. He couldn’t speak. Ian couldn’t touch her. If he touched her, he would never let her go.

  “I am Sorcha. What’s your name?”

  Ian’s head spun from the whisky and he wanted to look at her and hide at the same time. His palms were sweating and his stomach lurched. He turned his head to avoid dumping the contents of his shaky belly on her. He retched.

  Sorcha leapt back. “What are you doing?”

  “Sorry, I did not mean to.” Ian shook his head. “I had one too many pints.” Humiliated, he looked away.

  His gaze latched onto his brothers and their dance partners. The women were doing more than dancing. Savagely, they pulled his brothers’ clothes off. Raking their nails down the men’s bare flesh, they licked and suckled their skin. It looked as if his brothers and the strange women were going to have an orgy right here in the field. He stood there gaping. He had to be dreaming.

  Tight pressure gripped his swelling groin as a jolt of heat shot through him. He imagined Sorcha’s tongue on the fiery bulge of flesh between his thighs. His pulse hammered, causing his breath to catch in his throat. Then a coppery smell drifted in the air.

  Ian tried to block out the buzz from the whisky. He squinted, peering closer at the wild escapades in front of him. He watched as Angus dropped to the ground with a thud. Where desire flamed inside him just moments before, now icy fear coursed through Ian. A woman just stood over Angus’ still form, refusing to help him. Fresh, crimson blood dripped from her full mouth and her long, sharp nails.

  “This isn’t an orgy.” The realization hit Ian full force. “It’s murder. They’re baobhan sith, dancing vampires.”

  His shock turned to fury. He grabbed Sorcha, who still stood between him and the smelly puddle of vomit. He dug his fingers into her flesh. He didn’t care if he hurt her or not. She wasn’t human. He slammed her to the ground and leapt on her back. He couldn’t stop all of them, but he wouldn’t let this one hurt his brothers or him. He pushed with all his might, holding her arms down. She couldn’t suck his blood.

  A shivering wail like a cat in heat blared from her open mouth.

  He pushed his body onto her as hard as he could. His brothers. He had to save them. What could he do? If he got up, he’d have to let go of her and she’d kill him. Claw him to death. No. This couldn’t be happening. He wanted to fight, to help his brothers. What could he do? Really do? He’d stop this one. He could do that.

  “Mortal, unhand my sister.” A baobhan sith released one of his brothers to leap through the air and land on Ian in attack mode. Fighting to free Sorcha, she fiercely clamped down on Ian’s flesh, digging her nails and teeth into his vulnerable human flesh.

  With all his might, he held Sorcha as if his arms were steel restraints. His full weight like an anvil crushed her prone body. He’d never let her go. If he couldn’t save himself, he would save his brothers.

  Her six vampire sisters cawed like a flock of ravens. They swooped down, hungry, winged scavengers who found a corpse to ravage. Ian held on to Sorcha, even with all six creatures piled on top of him. They pecked and clawed but didn’t feed. Their frenzy to free Sorcha drove them more than their hunger for his blood.

  Ian twisted his head toward his brothers. “Get Angus to the hospital. Run.”

  “No,” Malcolm shouted. “Not without you.”

  “Then we will all die.” He couldn’t keep the pain from his voice. Raw, stinging cuts and bites covered every inch of his body. “Go now. I do not know how long I can hold on.”

  “We’ll get help for him. He’s lost a lot of blood.” Tavish lifted Angus’ still body over his shoulder and met Ian’s gaze. “We’ll come back for you.”

  His six brothers fled. The baobhan sith let them go. They were all clawing and grabbing at Ian.

  He shut his eyes and grappled at Sorcha with all his might, but his body weakened. His muscles screamed from the strain and the pain as the six vampires continued to attack him. He’d die before he’d let them pry him off her.

  Sorcha’s muffled screams and threats aimed at forcing him to free her fell silent, as she must have grown too tired to shout. Exhaustion engulfed him and it was a trial just to breathe. Still he held onto her, resisting the assault of her sisters with every last ounce of strength he possessed. It seemed as if all was still, as if he didn’t breathe or hear anything. He felt as if he was looking on, watching the attack.

  This is how people die. This is it. Any moment I will meet my death.

  He had no idea how much time had passed, but his mind and body were overcome with the vampires’ abuse. He felt his fight against them had gone on much longer than one night. The sadness of knowing he was dying overcame him, like being buried alive in an ice-filled bog. They were killing him, and there was nothing more he could do to stop his death.

  The sky grew brighter. The weight of their bodies lifted off of him. He raised his head as the deadly enchantresses vanished as if they’d never been there. Except for Sorcha, still struggling beneath his hard body. The sky was ablaze with a pink, orange and saffron sunrise.

  “I’m alive. Saved by the sun.”

  * * * * *

  His spirits soared as he heard the sound of an automobile engine. Then Malcolm called to him. “Ian, are you all right?”

  “You came back.” He stayed on the ground with Sorcha beneath him. The only thing keeping her alive was him. If the sun shone directly on her, she’d turn to ash.

  “We would never leave you behind, brother. Let the baobhan sith up so the sun will fry her.”

  “I cannot let her die like that.”

  Her sisters were gone. She posed no threat alone with five of his brothers here.

  “My sisters shall avenge my death. All your brothers will be killed,” Sorcha managed to yell as he lay on top of her.

  “I am trying to shield you from the sun’s rays so you will not die, you fool.” He could barely speak, he was so drained of energy, and he would not stand for both her and his brothers fussing at him. He needed rest first.

  “What are we to do with her?” Lachlan swaggered forward with Errol, Tavish and Calin following him.

  Ian held onto Sorcha. “First, tell me about Angus.”

  His brothers each answered in turn.

  “He’s at the hospital.”

  “He lost a lot of blood.”

  “They gave him a transfusion.”

  “To heal him.”

  “They’re keeping him today for observation.”

  “He’ll come home tomorrow, maybe tonight.”

  “Good.” Ian sighed with relief. “One of you get a blanket to wrap around her. It’ll keep her safe until we get her home.”

  “What will we do then?” Tavish rolled his shoulders back.

  “She needs to sleep. My bedroom’s dark enough with the blinds drawn.” A voice in his head said it was a bad idea, keeping a vampire in his bed, while another part of him thought, It could be fun.

  “I don’t know how Mum’s going to feel about this.” Tavish shook his red head.

  Soon one of them draped a blanket over him and Sorcha and he slipped out from beneath, leaving her covered. His brothers rolled her up in it and carried her to the truck. They laid her inside.

  Her voice reached beyond the layers of blanket wrapping. “What are you going to do with me?”

  “We’re saving your life, though I don’t know why.” Errol clambered into the bed of the truck.


  “I don’t know either. You damn vampires nearly killed Angus.” Calin climbed in with them and sat next to her.

  Lachlan and Tavish settled in the back with her and their other two brothers as well.

  With Ian in the passenger seat, Malcolm took the wheel and drove to the house. Once Malcolm pulled the truck to a stop, everyone climbed out except for Sorcha. Ian's brothers pulled her out, still captive in the blanket, and carried her to the front door. Once inside, careful not to let their mother or father know, they sneaked her into Ian’s room and dropped her on the bed.

  When his brothers left, Ian shut the door to his room, and with one fluid motion yanked the blanket off her. Her skin was red as if she had begun to burn.

  “You are safe here. There’s a wee bit of light coming through the windows, but it’s dark enough. You’ll find the bed comfortable, it’s mine.”

  “Am I? Safe here?” She pushed herself to a sitting position and put one hand on her hip. “Why here?” She looked at him intently. “Why not leave me in the sun to die?”

  His brothers had asked him the same thing. “I could not leave you to burn to a crisp. Even if you are a baobhan sith, I would not do that to anyone.” As he gazed into her gleaming eyes, he knew he could never hurt her. He felt an unexplainable need to protect her. He didn’t know why. “I had to give up my bed for you, I couldn’t ask one of my brothers to do it.”

  “My sisters attacked your brothers and I meant to do the same to you.” Lines crinkled her forehead and her lips parted in a baffled expression.

  “Yes, that you did, but it seems it’s the nature of the baobhan sith.”

  “You do not blame me?” Her brows arched as she stared at him.

  “We all had a bad night. Tavish did kick over the cairn, but he’s going now to right the stones so your sisters cannot get free.”

  “As long as the rocks stay in place.” She cocked her head. “You know of our ways, then.”