“Aye, to drink blood, although it has been many generations since we drank only from people. I am nay a Pureblood, one who carries only MacNachton blood. My father wed a Callan. Her clan has its secrets, too. ’Tis believed that an ancestor of theirs was some Druid priestess who could change into a cat. In both our clans are people who also have gifts like yours.”
Gifts like hers were no gifts at all, she thought, choking back a sob. None of the men who had died had been good men, but she had never wanted to feel the fear and pain they suffered as they died. Although she was no longer maddened by the sheer weight of it all, her skin still crawled with the remnants of it, and her stomach churned so badly she could feel the sting of bile in the back of her throat. The worst had been the horror each man experienced, as he had, at last, understood exactly what they had cornered. It had run so deep in each man’s mind and heart she could still taste it.
“We are an old race, and our ancestors are the ones who stirred up all the dark tales about us. They were a brutal lot of men, arrogant in their power. They were called Nightriders, for they would ride down from the mountain in the dark of night to raid villages for blood and women. That ended many years ago, and then our laird decided we needed to breed out what made us different from all around us. He was the son of an Outsider, one who carries no MacNachton blood, and the old laird knew it could help us, for he could abide some sun upon his skin.”
Her eyes were still glazed with that horror that struck him so deeply, but she was not shaking as badly as she had been, so he continued, hoping that his talking to her would continue to calm her. “We also were a barren clan. It had been over a generation since a child had been born and that one of an Outsider and my father. We had bred too much amongst ourselves and were slowly dying out. The laird wed a Callan woman and had twin sons. It was enough to tell the others he was right, to stir them to act and accept his plans to change what we were and more easily blend with Outsiders. It wasnae perfect, for the Callans do have many cat-like qualities, but his sons can also abide some sun. The dark hunger isnae as fierce in them, either.”
“The dark hunger?” she whispered. “Ye speak of the drinking of blood?”
He slowly nodded. “We begin to think we will never fully change into Outsiders. Whate’er created us is strong, the needs insistent, but more of us can hide what we are much better now. We also dinnae hunt down people like cattle. Most of the time we need nay more than animal blood, often mixed with wine. ’Tis only when we have been sickened by the sun or badly wounded that we need more, and then ’tis offered freely by the ones within the clan or taken from the enemy we defeat.”
“But ye nay drink down their souls.”
“Nay! We have ne’er been able to do such a thing.”
“ ’Tis what those men thought ye would do, what they feared.”
Gillanders nearly cursed aloud. She had felt everything the dying men had. It was a miracle she was not yet mad, her mind broken. He reached out to soothe her with a touch but she cringed, and his heart broke all over again. Taking a deep breath to ease the grip of that pain on his throat he tried to think of what else he could tell her.
“We have more of us now who can abide some sun,” he finally said. “The sunlight steals our life, draws it out slowly, weakening us so that we cannae even move to hide from the verra thing that is killing us. Purebloods cannae abide it at all. The stronger the MacNachton blood, the more dangerous it is to be out in the sunlight. I can abide all but the middle of the day when the sun is at its strongest.
“Finally there are the Lost Ones. These are the children, or descendants, of MacNachtons and Outsiders. I fear our ancestors, thinking they could nay breed a child, especially with one nay of our ilk, ne’er watched to see if any lass they bedded bore them a child. The moment we discovered the first one, a search was begun for others. To our sorrow we ken weel that many have died over the years. The ones we have found have all had a hard life, were constantly threatened, and became skilled in hiding. That threat is even greater now, for we have an enemy who hunts us. Someone learned of us and has the coin and the power to send men hunting us down. They, too, seek our Lost Ones.”
“The Laird.”
“Aye, although we cannae be certain he is the only one.”
“And the child my cousin Adeline took in is one of you.”
“Osgar is Arailt’s son, so, aye, he is one of ours. So is Adeline now, for she is Lachann’s woman.” He stood up and held out his hand.
Murdina did not take it. She knew that hurt him, could feel the stab of that pain, but she could not touch him. Not yet. So much of what the men he had killed had felt was still crawling through her veins that she feared his touch would be all that was needed to push her that last step toward madness. With one hand on the trunk of the tree, she pushed herself to her feet.
“Adeline still waits at Cambrun, Murdina,” he said. “I swear that ye will be in no danger there.”
“Then we had best resume our journey.”
“Aye, let us leave this place of death,” he murmured, and strode toward the horses.
Murdina slowly walked to her pony and mounted. She idly wondered if she was already mad, had broken beneath the onslaught of so many emotions. After watching Gillanders kill all those men, his eyes the yellow of a feral beast, his fangs stained with blood, it had to be madness that had her riding away with him. Despite all she was suffering, all she had seen him do, however, she could not see him as a threat to her life. She nudged her pony into motion and followed him away from the scene of battle, praying that she was not making the biggest, and perhaps the last, mistake of her life.
Gillanders watched Adeline escort her newfound cousin up the stairs to a room and sighed. The last of their journey had been trouble-free but a constant torment. She had spoken little and turned her back to him when they rested. All the warmth he had enjoyed in her smiles and her body was gone.
“She is the one, is she?” asked his father.
“Aye, but I fear she will ne’er come to me.” He told his father all that had happened as well as why it had affected Murdina far more than it would have anyone else.
“Wheesht, laddie, ye are fortunate she is still sane.”
“True. I but wish she would speak to me. Jesu, I but wish she would smile at me again. ’Tis as if she has gone all cold, pulling away from me even though she is right there before me.”
“Give her time, lad. Let her be soothed by the women and enjoy finding the last of her family for a wee while.”
“I will. It willnae be easy, but I will give her time.”
Jankyn was watching his son walk away when his wife walked up and slapped him on the back of the head. Laughing softly and rubbing the back of his head, he looked at her. “What was that for?”
“Ye just sent him in the wrong direction. He should be wooing that lass.”
As quickly as possible he told her all that had happened and why he had told his son to give Murdina some time to recover. “The lass is fortunately made of steel, for I can but wonder how she remained sane after that.”
“And thus will make a good mate for our son. But he shouldnae be leaving her alone too long. Once she calms from her ordeal, she will begin to wonder where he is and think too much on his absence from her side. I believe I shall fetch a soothing potion and take it to her for, if Gillanders stays away too long, someone will have to be able to convince her to go and hunt him down.”
Murdina sighed with pleasure as she drank the tankard of heavily spiced cider Gillanders’s mother served her. Finding out this young, vibrant woman was his mother had been quite a shock, too. There were obviously a few things about the MacNachtons he had neglected to tell her. No one had suggested that Efrica was a second or even third wife, so her claim to be Gillanders’s mother had to be the truth, yet Murdina found it so hard to believe she decided to just ignore the puzzle for now.
As the woman took the empty tankard away, Adeline gently pushed Murdina down onto
her back on the bed and pulled the coverlet over her. “Best if ye rest, cousin.” She laughed. “ ’Tis wondrous to say that. I thought myself utterly alone. Weel, until I found my son and then my husband. Ye have the look of my father, too, which warms my heart.”
“I, too, thought myself alone.” Murdina briefly clasped Adeline’s hand, swallowing the urge to weep. “ ’Tis good to ken I have kin still.”
“And ye will have more once ye get o’er your journey and go fetch my son to your side,” said Efrica.
Murdina blushed. “I am nay sure he will wish to be fetched, and I am nay one of his people. And he is a knight whilst I am but the only child of a blacksmith.”
“Neither are we of his ilk, and your birth is of no concern.” Efrica sat on the side of the bed. “Nor are a few others like my sister, the laird’s wife. My husband told me what ye suffered, how that gift ye havenae yet told us about made ye feel all that those men felt as they died. But, they meant to kill ye. Ne’er forget that. Aye, they might have captured my son and sent him to this laird we cannae seem to find, but he would have died, probably after many long months of torture. I dinnae think the killing is what troubles ye when ye look at him, either.”
“Nay, but in a way he lied to me. I looked at what he could do, how he changed into a mon I didnae ken as he fought, and felt the sting of that lie. I am also nay sure if I can be the woman he needs, if he even wishes to keep me.”
“Oh, he wishes to keep ye. I saw how he watched ye as ye walked away with Adeline. As for being what he needs? Of course ye are or he wouldnae be looking at ye that way. Now, my husband in all his idiot male wisdom has told Gillanders to give ye time. Take it, but if he keeps away once ye are over all ye suffered, hunt him down. If ye love my lad, Murdina Dunbar, then ye will find a way to be all that he needs.” Efrica stood up and brushed down her skirts. “Rest. We can visit more later when ye wake and begin to recover your strength.”
After the woman was gone, Murdina looked at her cousin. “ ’Tis verra hard to believe that young, vibrant woman is Gillanders’s mother.”
“Ah, weel,” Adeline took Efrica’s place on the side of the bed, “these people dinnae age as Outsiders do. There is a lot I need to tell ye about the MacNachtons, Cousin. But I will say this now, as I can see that your eyes grow heavy with sleep. They are good men. If Gillanders has decided ye are his mate, ye will ne’er find a better mon to love. He will protect ye and any child ye bear with his verra life, love ye until your eyes cross, and be a true soul mate, the other half of you that ye didnae e’en ken was missing.”
“That would be nice. Yet, he didnae tell me who he really was before he . . .” She blushed as she realized what she was about to confess.
“Bedded ye?” Adeline laughed when Murdina blushed even more. “They are a hot-blooded lot these MacNachton men. Dinnae look so shamed. Ye are in love. ’Tis the way of it.”
“But I was in love with the other Gillanders, the one he pretended to be.”
“Nonsense. Gillanders was Gillanders. All he hid was that which this clan has always hidden. And ’tis worth their verra life if anyone discovers what they are. Ye hid what ye are until the last moment, aye?”
“Weel, aye, but ye would think he would tell me ere he bedded me.”
“He is a mon. He wanted ye, and since ye may weel be his mate, that wanting must have been fierce.”
Thinking of how his desire felt when he touched her, Murdina had to agree. “I dinnae ken what to think save that I think Efrica’s potion is beginning to dull what few wits I still had.”
“Exactly what it was meant to do. Ye need to rest. Murdina, just what is this gift ye have?”
“I can feel what others feel. One reason I was so drawn to Gillanders is because all I could feel from him was calm. A wee hint of a shadow, but mostly a wonderful calm. Oh, and his desire. I kenned that was true, for I felt it each time it rose in him. When he killed those men,” she added in a shaky whisper, “I felt all they did as they died.”
“Sweet Jesu. All of them?”
“Aye. All of them. They were afraid, in pain, and utterly horrified, for they believed he would drink down their souls. I cannae explain how it was when all of the emotion came to me, but I do think ’tis a near miracle that I am still sane.”
Adeline hugged her and then sat back while still clasping her hand. “It is. I am curious now. What do ye feel from me?”
“Happiness. Calm. Sympathy.”
“That is utterly astonishing.”
Adeline asked a few more questions but then left. Murdina closed her eyes. Her body was so soothed by Efrica’s potion that Murdina doubted she could move, but her mind was slow to find its rest. The shadows of what the dead men had felt still preyed upon her mind, casting up images of the way they had died. She knew it would be a while before she could banish those shadows.
Gillanders also came to mind, but that did not surprise her. He had occupied her thoughts a lot ever since she had first set eyes on him. Memories of their lovemaking were far better than the shadows of the dead men’s feelings, but they carried a hint of sadness with them. She needed to accept that he had not lied to her, that he had simply been what he was, a man who had a lot of secrets he had been trained to keep, if only for the sake of his clan.
She still wanted him, still loved him. For now she would rest, shed herself of all those dark shadows, and regain her strength just as Gillanders’s lovely mother had suggested. She would also learn all she could about the MacNachtons. It was clear to see that he had not yet told her everything. The knowledge of what she would share if she did stay with him would be important, for she realized she did not want to taste his pain again as she had when she had shied away from him after the battle.
The fact that she could hurt him like that actually made a flicker of hope rise in her heart. You could not hurt a man who cared no more for you than as a way to soothe his lusts. It was going to take a lot of courage but, if he did not come to speak to her, the moment she regained her strength, she would speak to him. Nothing could be settled until they talked. All she could do was pray that the talk would lead to his asking her to share his future.
Chapter Nine
“Where is Gillanders?” Murdina asked the far too beautiful Jankyn, still unsettled by how Gillanders’s father looked young enough to be his brother.
“Out in the stables,” the man replied, watching her so intently it made her uneasy even though she could feel no threat from him.
For two days she had seen little of Gillanders, mere glimpses of him as they passed in the great hall. He had been avoiding her as much as possible. When she recalled how she had reacted to the truth about what he was, Murdina was not surprised by that. Also, his father had told him to give her time, although she doubted the man had meant for Gillanders to utterly ignore her. She also thought that Gillanders was giving all she had suffered very little consideration. It hurt her to know she had hurt him, but seeing what he was in all its ferocious, bloody glory had been a terrible shock, especially when she had been so crippled by all the emotions she had been pummeled with.
“He plans to go ahunting for more Lost Ones,” Jankyn continued. “Could be gone for weeks.”
“Gone? For weeks? He ne’er said a word about that.”
“Weel, I suspicion he didnae wish to interrupt your getting to ken your cousin.”
Something about her reaction to the news that Gillanders was thinking of riding away and staying away for weeks was definitely amusing the man. She could not discover what it was, however, for she did not have the time. If she was to corner Gillanders for a long talk, she had to catch him quickly.
“Oh, aye, run away, will he?” she muttered to herself as she strode away. “Two days of hiding like a child expecting a scold just because I found the sight of him ripping out throats with his teeth a wee bit frightening. Wheesht, who wouldnae. But did he give me time to calm down a wee bit, to learn more about his clan? Nay, he hid. Weel, he cannae hide any more.
I will tie the fool to a post until he talks to me.”
She heard laughter and knew Jankyn had listened to her rantings, but she was too angry to care. Refusing to run after any man, Murdina nevertheless walked to the stables as swiftly as she could. If she did not stop Gillanders from leaving, it would be a long time before they could talk as they needed to. She also feared how he would behave if he left still believing she could not tolerate what he was.
The moment she saw him, she hesitated. Murdina knew only that he desired her and that she could hurt him. It was not much to plan a future on or to risk her heart on. Adeline was certain Gillanders wanted her for far more than as a woman to warm his bed. Even his own mother thought so. Yet, it would still take a lot of courage to speak her heart to him on no more than those assumptions. Then she watched him make a final check of his saddle and knew she had to grasp that courage right now. If she let him leave, every instinct she had told her that it would be a long time before they could return to that idyllic time before she had seen what he was, if ever.
“Going somewhere?” she asked as she walked over and looked at him over the back of his horse.
“Out to hunt for Lost Ones,” he replied. “We all do it from time to time.”
Gillanders studied her face. He could see none of the fear or horror he had seen that day in the clearing. She was clear-eyed and apparently angry with him. Gillanders felt a faint stirring of hope, but refused to let it rise. Murdina might now accept what he and his clan were, but that did not mean she would now wish to bind herself to him for what could be a very long lifetime or to bear his children.
“Did ye nay think to tell me?” She heard the faint tremor in her voice and silently cursed, but the chill she felt from him was breaking her heart.
“Nay. I felt ye still needed time to overcome your revulsion.”
“It was nay revulsion,” she snapped, welcoming the anger that pushed aside her timidity and fear.
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