Silently repeating every curse she knew, Adeline tried to think of what to do next. She suspected the man was one of the MacNachtons she had intended to find, but she was no longer certain she wanted Osgar to join that clan. Adeline shivered as she recalled how the man had sunk his teeth into the hunter’s throat. That was not the life she wished for Osgar, a life of killing and feeding upon men as if they were cattle. She now had to consider the possibility that some of the horrific tales she had heard about the MacNachtons were true. If they were, the MacNachtons were the very last people she wished to entrust with the care of Osgar.
The four men who had crept into her camp had intended to kill her and Osgar. She did not regret their deaths. She did, however, find many reasons to fear her rescuer. The speed and deadly skill he had shown while killing four armed men had been terrifying things to see. But the way he had drunk of that man’s blood had been worse. Adeline cursed, knowing her thoughts were circling but unsure of what to do.
“Maman?”
“Hush, Osgar,” Adeline said in as soft a voice as she could manage. “I am thinking. We need a plan.”
“But, Maman—”
“Can it not wait?”
“Nay. The mon is here.”
Adeline lifted her gaze enough to see the pair of deer-hide boots planted so firmly in front of her face she knew they were caught. How did the man move like that, like mist rising from the marsh? The brief hesitation brought on by her surprise cost her dearly. She reached for her knife but his long-fingered hand was firmly wrapped around her wrist before she even touched the hilt. A squeak of surprise escaped her as he yanked her to her feet and, in one swift move, disarmed her, wrapped one strong arm around her, and pinned her arms to her sides. Adeline struggled, drumming her heels against his legs, but he took no notice, fixing his gaze on Osgar.
“Be still, woman, ere ye hurt yourself.”
The man’s deep voice made her heart skip and Adeline told herself it was only fear and anger making it do so. “Put me down now,” she ordered, not surprised when he ignored her.
“Put my maman down or I will bite ye,” said Osgar.
Lachann stared at the boy facing him with his little fists raised and a dark scowl on his face. He suddenly heard the voice of one of the men he had just killed. So, the demons come to collect their spawn. Lachann tensed, anticipation and hope surging through him.
“What is your name, lad?” he asked.
“Osgar, and I can bite verra hard.”
“Can ye now?” Lachann carefully studied the big golden eyes staring up at him. He could see the beast glinting in them despite the fact that the child was too young to be revealing it. “Who was your father?”
“Dinnae ken. Anne didnae tell me. I think I called him Papa but he went away and didnae come back.”
Lachann wondered why the child paled a little but before he could ask, the boy was looking belligerent again. “And just who is this Anne that she should know what mon bred ye? This lady?” Lachann was not surprised at how tense and still his captive had become, not after all she had already done to protect the child.
“Nay. Ye are holding my mither. Anne is the lady whose body I came out of. She cut me and left me in the woods for the beasties to gnaw on. Maman saved me. So, ye had best put her down or I will get verra mean.”
Lachann looked at the woman he held. She was staring at him, her lovely green eyes filled with fear and mistrust, her temptingly full lips made thin by the way she pressed them together as if afraid to speak. He doubted she had any MacNachton blood in her, yet she cared for a child who was plainly one of the Lost Ones, had even been ready to die to protect the boy. What Lachann needed to do now was to ease her fear and gain her trust. Considering all she had just seen him do, gaining her trust was not going to be easy. He needed it, however, if only to get some answers about why a small boy already had so many of the traits most MacNachtons did not gain until they were older.
“Ye took the lad in?” After a brief hesitation, she nodded. “He is a MacNachton. He is of my clan, my blood.”
“How can ye be so certain of that?” Adeline asked.
Deciding she was both weaponless and easy to hang onto, Lachann loosened his hold on her body but, the moment her feet touched the ground, wrapped his hand around her slim wrists to hold her in place. “Are ye a witch?” he asked, suddenly recalling something else the men had said.
“Nay, and neither was my mother,” she snapped. “Healers. That is all she was and all I am. Healers. For that they killed her and would, undoubtedly, soon come for me. What Osgar tells ye is true. His birth mother and a man cut him and left him in the woods. I took him in. I am Adeline Dunbar. Two years ago that happened and since then the fools searching the wood for some demon have nearly killed him. Thrice. I decided we needed to leave that place.”
“We are going to Cambrun,” said Osgar, “where there are people like me.”
Adeline was not sure why Osgar was now so calm and friendly just because the man no longer held her up like a sack of grain. “I dinnae believe that is any of this mon’s business, Osgar.”
“Oh, but it is,” said the man. “I am Lachann MacNachton. I have been on a long search for ones we call the Lost Ones and am now headed home to Cambrun. Ye will ride with me.”
“Nay, we willnae.” She gave a brief attempt to free her wrists from his hold before deciding that all she was accomplishing was to use up her strength in a futile attempt to escape. “I have changed my mind about going to Cambrun.”
“Because ye saw me kill those men.”
“Nay, because of what I saw ye do to the last mon ye fought. That isnae what I want for Osgar.”
“It was the bloodlust of the battle, lass. That and the fact that I had lost some blood. And, whether ye take the lad to his clan or nay, he will become like me.” He frowned at Osgar. “ ’Tis unusual for the beast to be stirring in one so young.”
“There is nay a beast in the child!”
He grinned at her forceful defense of the boy but quickly grew serious again. “MacNachton bairns, especially those born of both MacNachtons and Outsiders, dinnae show the”—he glanced at her scowling face—“spirit the adult MacNachtons do at such a young age. ’Tis often something else that gives away their heritage. That need for blood if weakened or wounded is usually it, or the weakness caused by the sun. How strong is his weakness? How long can he stay in the sun?”
“He cannae abide the noon sun.”
Lachann nodded. “Come along, lad. We can talk o’er all this back at the campsite.”
Adeline stumbled slightly when Lachann started striding back to the clearing, dragging her along at his side. The only thing that aided her in remaining calm was that the man showed no hesitation in his acceptance of Osgar as one of his own. He showed no hesitation in expecting that Osgar would take his place at Cambrun, either. The latter was not something she was feeling all that sure of at the moment, but her need to flee the man’s side had eased. She was willing to listen.
“When did ye ken that the lad was different?” Lachann asked as he sat near the fire with Adeline and Osgar, passing his skin of cider around.
“Immediately,” replied Adeline. “Within moments after I picked him up to take him home with me, he fed from my wrist. His wound had healed but I eventually realized that ’twas the loss of blood that made him do that.”
“He fed from ye? Ye didnae have to coax him to it?”
“Nay. He just did it. Now he tells me when he hurts. He doesnae just bite.”
Lachann simply could not understand how the boy could be as he was. Full-blooded MacNachton children had not been born for many, many years but there were tales of them, memories kept alive so that they could all learn from the past. No child born of Outsiders and MacNachtons revealed such a need for blood so soon, or the innate skill on how to take it.
“Why do ye look at him like that?” asked Adeline.
“I am just trying to understand something that doesn
ae make any sense,” replied Lachann. “Laddie,” he asked Osgar, “have ye always had the need to feed?”
“Nay,” replied Osgar. “I did it first just after my fither went away.”
“Ye were a verra wee lad when Adeline took ye in. Are ye certain ye recall anything about your father?”
“He was verra big and he said I had to be brave because he had to mark me. I was brave. I ’member that clear because then he left and he ne’er came back. Then Anne decided to put me out for the beasties.”
“He marked ye?”
“ ’Tis what he said. Right here.” Osgar pulled up his shirt and pointed to a crescent-shaped mark very near his heart. “See? This proves I had a fither because he said this is what fithers do when they love their sons and want to be sure they are safe e’en when he cannae be there to help them. He said if someone tried to hurt me, he would ken and come help me but he didnae come. Maman did.”
Lachann reached out and lightly touched the scar. “Sweet Jesu, he is a Blooded Son.”
“What do ye mean?” asked Adeline, gently tugging Osgar’s shirt back down.
“ ’Tis an old ritual. Verra old. It was rarely done, for it made the child as much a MacNachton as any adult was. The father bites the child, takes a wee bit of blood, and then feeds his own to the child. Within the week the child is still a child but with an old soul, if ye will. It was a way to protect the child, to help the parent ken exactly when he was in danger. They became bonded in many ways. It can also give the child some added strength and speed so that he can better protect himself despite his small size.”
Adeline lightly stroked Osgar’s thick black curls. “His father kenned that Anne had become a threat to him and Osgar.”
“I would guess that is just what happened but the mon couldnae stay just then, so he did what he could to try and protect his son.”
“Then where is he?”
“I fear he is dead. A parent who has blooded his child cannae stay away from him for verra long; the bond is that strong. ’Tis but a guess, but I am thinking he felt the danger was too great to try and take Osgar away with him, that he feared the peril was close enough to make any journey dangerous, and so he went alone to try and get help.”
“And they killed him.”
“Aye, and I suspect this Anne was the one to lead him to his death.” Lachann muttered a few curses, stopping only when he noticed how closely Osgar was paying attention to every word he said. “Again and again I have heard such tales; one of our own led to his death by a woman. None of our men seem to ken that they take their verra lives in their hands when they take up with an Outsider lass.”
“I beg your pardon.” Adeline scowled at him, insulted even though she could understand his anger. “I believe I am one of these people ye call an Outsider and I havenae led anyone to their death, nor would I.”
Lachann looked at her and sighed. Revealing his own mistrust of all who were not of his clan was not a good way to win over her trust. He realized he did not fully extend that mistrust to her but doubted she would believe that, especially as he could not explain why he did not feel it as strongly with her as he should. He hoped it was not just because he felt drawn to her, attracted to her with a strength that left him a little uneasy. Lachann did not want to think he could be such a fool. Just because she saved a child of his clan did not mean she would be as accepting of all of them.
“We need to go and talk to this Anne,” he said.
“Ye want us to turn around and go all the way back?” Adeline shook her head. “Nay, that is foolish.”
“I need to ken who his father is and what has happened to him.”
“He is dead. Ye have just confirmed that with all ye just told us about this marking the mon did. If he wasnae dead he would have come to help Osgar. Ye want us to go to the place where he was probably murdered? Where they hunt for Osgar and think me a witch? That is madness.”
“Ye willnae be without protection this time.” The way she tilted her jaw up and crossed her arms told Lachann she was not going to be easy to convince. She had a right to her fears but he could not let them hold him back from what needed to be done. “I need to ken the truth. For many reasons,” he said when she opened her mouth to argue with him. “It can tell me what Osgar’s bloodline is, which is verra important. He could be of one of the more important families within the clan and that will make a difference in his future.”
The way she frowned told him that making the return trip to the village important for Osgar’s future was the way to get her to agree. Lachann began to explain just how important the boy’s bloodlines were and all about how his clan was trying to put together a history that could help them to solve all the problems their clan faced now. By the time he knew they had to head to shelter, she was a reluctant partner in his plans. He did not fool himself into thinking she would cease trying to make him change his mind, however.
Chapter Three
“I still dinnae like this,” Adeline muttered as she stood beside Lachann looking down the small hillside at the village. She had been grieved to leave her home but not the people who lived here.
“In truth, neither do I, lass,” Lachann confessed, knowing she could not turn back now. “These are the people who tried to kill Osgar and I am certain they killed the lad’s father. I suspicion they would have soon come for ye, too. Nay, I dinnae wish to be here but I cannae ignore the need to speak to this Anne. I need to ken who fathered the lad. If naught else, the mon may have close kin at Cambrun and they will wish to ken what happened to him. That and all the reasons ye have made me repeat again and again since we started the journey here.”
“And ye wish to ken who may be pleased that he left a wee bit of himself behind. I ken it. Doesnae mean I like being here, but I ken the reasons for this are good ones.”
“And ye couldnae have agreed from the start?”
“Nay,” she replied, and made no apology for her stubbornness. “And Osgar should ken if he has family.”
“Aye. Because Osgar is a Blooded Son his family may be able to ken who he is, but I cannae be certain of that. The blood bond may be clear enough for all the mon’s kin to see but a name will help us save some time in kenning who he belongs to if the mark isnae strong enough.”
He belongs to me, Adeline thought as she looked back toward the cluster of trees where Osgar waited with the ponies and Lachann’s horse, but she bit back the words. She hated to leave the boy all alone but had to trust that he knew to flee on the pony if anyone approached him. Osgar had learned how to sense and elude danger before he could even speak clearly. Sad as that was, it served him well. She idly wondered if that was one of the things his father had given him when he had marked him.
“He will be fine,” Lachann said quietly. “He is a clever lad and we willnae be long.”
“As ye wish. She lives in that wee cottage next to the blacksmith’s place. She is a widow now. Her husband was nay rich but he owned that wee home and Anne has a keen eye for lovers with full purses.”
“Any other children?”
“Two. One by her husband and one by a lover. ’Tis whispered that she had others but that she is fond of taking the poor bairns to the wood, returning without them. I ne’er found any, though, nor any sign that she had done so. Another rumor claims that she kens how to rid herself of a bairn ere it is born.” Adeline scowled at Anne’s cottage. “Unfortunately, some in the village believe the latter and think I am the one who gives Anne such potions. I ne’er have. My mother would spin in her grave if I e’en thought of it. But the priest decries my dark sin with near every mass he gives and Anne does naught to absolve me of such unfair blame.”
“And yet ye stayed here, stayed near enough to these fools to be at risk.”
“The cottage was my home,” she explained softly. “They destroyed that when they murdered my mother but I had thought I could regain it with Osgar. I thought he and I could make it a home again.”
Lachann had the strongest, and st
rangest, urge to pull her into his arms and soothe her pain, to tell her that she could make a home at Cambrun, with him. That was utter foolishness. He did not even know the woman, he told himself firmly and then immediately called himself a liar. She had already revealed her bravery by facing those men and protecting Osgar, her kind heart in the way she had taken in a child most of the world would run from or kill, and her stubbornness in the way she had argued with him so strenuously about returning to this village. She had done it all for Osgar’s sake. Lachann also sensed an old pain, one inflicted by the superstitious people in the village, people who had killed her mother and kept Adeline an outcast.
“Let us be done with this,” he said, shaking away his rambling thoughts as he started down the hill.
Adeline hurried to his side and directed him along a less obvious path to Anne’s cottage. The sun was almost set and most of the villagers were indoors but she saw no reason to risk meeting or being seen by anyone. Someone might already have discovered that she had fled her home. It would not take long for people to wonder why, especially since the suspicion that she was hiding Osgar had already set down roots in the hunters’ minds.
As they approached the back door of Anne’s cottage, Adeline noticed the signs of prosperity. A neat, full kitchen garden, glass in the windows, a newly thatched roof, and a stout door. If Anne was ridding herself of children she was not doing so because she had no means to feed and care for them.
The smile that curved Anne’s full mouth when she opened the door and first saw the strong, handsome man standing there quickly fled. Adeline was just wondering if the woman suddenly recognized something in Lachann that reminded her of the man who had fathered Osgar when Anne tried to shut the door in their faces. Lachann moved with that speed that still astonished her, shoving the door open and grabbing hold of Anne, his hand over her mouth to halt any attempt the woman made to cry out for help. He walked into Anne’s warm kitchen and Adeline followed, shutting the door behind them. A quick glance around told her the children were either gone or in bed.
Born to Bite Bundle Page 29