“Actually,” I said, finally settling on anger, “Scotland is quickly losing its cachet for me. Why didn’t you tell me this from the very beginning?”
“Would you have agreed to it? Even to save your company?”
I thought about it. “Yes. I would have. Because even though it makes this adventure a little less…attractive, I owe you, and we Langstons—”
“Pay our debts. Yes, I’ve heard that somewhere before,” Forge responded quietly, but the jab lacked the usual smugness. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his seat, involved in some internal debate before he shook his head. “You wouldn’t have come, Selena. You would have heard the truth and walked away. I wouldn’t have blamed you, not one bit. This meeting of the clan has been a long time coming. When I saw what you could do, I looked at you like my last chance.”
“How am I supposed to help you, anyways? It’s not like… Did you do what they think you did?” I asked quickly. God, I didn’t even want to know. “I don’t see how knowing everyone’s thoughts will help you.”
“I killed another vampire—it was a long time ago, and it wasn’t a mistake; it was revenge. I had grounds for killing him. Unfortunately, he was the Elder’s offspring.”
“Okay, maybe we should have done a little more work in the terminology department. What’s the difference between you and an Elder?” I nodded to Forge’s watch. “How much time do we have?” I felt like I was heading to finals and didn’t even know what classes I’d enrolled in.
“Five hours, and it’s not complicated, Selena. All you need to do—”
“Explain things to me, or I won’t step off this plane. I don’t operate on this whole shoot from the hip approach. I prefer to have a solid plan before going in.”
“How well do these solid plans of your usually work out?”
“Not well, but I’m not walking in there blind, either. Terminology lesson, Forge.” Jeez, mind-reading vampires I’d signed up for, but this? The odds were beginning to look really, really bad.
“An Elder is a vampire who is older and more powerful than any other. At any one time, there is only one in existence, and, for our kind, his word is law.”
“That doesn’t sound like a good person to cross. I assume you had a really good reason for killing his offspring?”
“He killed Mara, my Maker. I killed him in return.”
A shadow went over Forge’s face when he mentioned Mara’s name, and then I knew we were opening up a serious can of worms. While I got all caught up in who Mara had been to Forge—complete with a stab of jealousy—I managed, “Huh. That seems like a pretty good reason.”
Vengeance usually ranked pretty high on the payback list. Humans took it seriously, and I’d just bet vampires took it to heart.
Or so I assumed.
13
Reluctantly, I cherry-picked through the circumstances that brought us to Scotland. There was no way I’d tell Selena everything. Hiding one’s worst inclinations from those who meant—were beginning to mean—something to them was practically the only human thing I’d carried over to this life.
Never mind Mara and I had been lovers.
Never mind the fact the Elder had almost killed me that night as well.
Never mind the fact the Elder was finally pursuing his vendetta.
I wasn’t about to lay my entire life out in front of Selena. Not when parts of it were so ugly. Not when she wouldn’t understand. The more I thought this through, the more I knew I should never have involved her in this. I’d been blinded by her ability. Blinded by her.
But that wasn’t fair. I’d been too focused on using her to get me out of this jam, and not weighing the consequences. In truth, it had been so long since I’d worried about anyone other than myself, I’d forgotten how. But the thought of putting Selena in danger, the thought of any of my kind getting anywhere near her, brought out a primal, territorial response.
“I’ve managed to stave off the Elder for many years. Blackmail, you see, works better than gold among my kind. But I don’t have my leverage anymore, and it appears the Elder has run out of patience.”
“What happened to your leverage?” she asked.
“He’s dead,” I answered. “I didn’t know it until they sent Dobson after me.” Or rather, as soon as Dobson had materialized inside my goddamned house, I knew Jackson was dead. There was no other explanation for it. The Elder had killed him, and now was coming for me.
“Dobson…the washed-out vampire that looked like he wanted to have me for a snack?”
“Yes,” I told her drily. “Him.”
“You threatened to rip his head off, if I remember correctly,” Selena pointed out, her tone every bit as droll as mine. “Stopped him in his tracks.”
“He’d better have stopped. He was ten feet away from you.” Ten fucking feet…
Jackson might be dead, and the hold I had over the Elder gone, but I still had contacts in Scotland. People I could rely on. If I didn’t, I would never have brought Selena.
“That was too close.”
“Yeah,” she said soberly, her face tightening up just enough that I knew he’d really frightened her. “He was. I thought I was a goner. But then you showed up. Always saving me from something, or so it seems.”
“Happy to oblige.” I kept my words light, but just the way she’d said it made me hard. I shifted position before she noticed. Damn, all these years and I was as suave as a schoolboy.
She shook her head, her hair tumbling all around. “What am I doing here, Forge? I should be home, running the distillery, falling asleep before nine so I can get up early to check on the mash. This is way over my head. The only reason I’m here is…”
My chest constricted. Of course there was only one reason. “Because of the loan.”
“No, actually, that’s not it at all.” Selena tilted her head, observing my face intently. “I guess you could say it was curiosity. I grew up hearing about you. You were a legend, like some kind of knight in shining armor who saved the company and cemented the Langston family’s futures.”
“I’m no knight, I can assure you of that.” I didn’t want to hear another word about Langston family gossip. “Selena, we’ve been over this, and I don’t want to hear any more—”
She completely ignored me. “But to me, you were always more than a legend. Do you know how many times I’ve stared at your painting, speculating about who you really were?” She ducked her head. “I’ve wondered about you for years, Forge. Did you ever think,” she added softly, “I just used the money as an excuse to meet you?”
As I struggled for some pithy comeback to the bombshell she’d just dropped, she smiled at me, breaking her expressionless visage. “Which means there’s no way I’d pass up a chance to go to Scotland with you. Now that I can read minds—and keep a straight face while doing it—I want to find out what I can do. What you taught me to do.”
Watching her face transform back to a serene, blank slate, I couldn’t help but agree. “Maybe you are ready.” Still, I wondered what we’d be walking into tonight. I was stronger than anyone else there, except the Elder. Given it had been years since our paths had crossed, I might even give him a go.
If I wasn’t one hundred percent sure Selena would be safe at my side, I’d never have allowed this to progress so far. I was powerful, but I wasn’t about to get cocky. After nearly two hundred years, the Elder had decided to come after me. I had to know why, or this would never end.
Which was where Selena came in—I needed her to read their minds and find out.
“I brought you something,” I told her, surveying her perfectly mundane jeans and sweatshirt. “It’s in the bedroom, and I hope it’s the right size.”
Her eyebrows twitched slightly, then settled back into place on her blank visage. “Gifts and a trip. You’re too good to me, Forge.”
“Just look in the bedroom,” I told her, before I picked her up and carried her back there myself. Just the thought of her splayed out on my bed…
I could almost imagine what she tasted like, a mix of musk and sweetness, and my mouth watered.
She blew me a kiss before she shut the door, then I heard a muffled squeal. Hopefully the dress fit her as well as the shoes. Vampires were a vicious lot, but they loved their fancy clothes, and if Selena was to fit in, she’d have to dress the part.
When Selena emerged in the green silk gown, which showed off every perfect curve, I knew my face showed exactly what I was thinking. “You look beautiful,” I said, the words slipping out of my mouth while my brain was catching up. She was stunning. A woman made for expensive clothes and private jets.
A woman made for me, I told myself—before reminding myself that I was a dead man walking.
14
Forge and I practiced the mind-shielding thing for a couple of hours before I begged off with a headache. In truth, I was tired of having my brain poked like a pincushion. My mindset was that I was either ready, or I wasn’t—and I’d be better off conserving my energy until tonight.
He’d changed as well, into a shirt that cost more than my car, and slacks that I wanted to run my fingers over. A leather jacket was thrown over the seat behind him.
Now we were sitting in opposite seats, two dollars on the table between us, and I was trying not to crack a smile as we tried to out-stare each other. The dress was hiked up so I could cross my legs, and I had my whisky balanced on my knee. Forge was doing his king-of-everything-I-survey pose, looking for all the world like an actual king.
The plane took that moment to hit turbulence, and I blinked.
“Hah,” Forge said, surging forward triumphantly. “You lost.”
He shot out his hand and collected my dollar as we hit another pocket of turbulence. The plane dropped like a stone, my stomach along with it, my whisky hitting the floor just a second before I did. My fingers splayed out on the floor as the plane was caught in a freefall. I didn’t look up until we leveled out.
“Selena,” Forge said, his face inches from mine. “You’re perfectly safe. It’s just a bit of weather.”
I couldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t even think, I was so rattled. He carefully lifted me up, then set me back into the seat, shifting until he was beside me. He wasn’t exactly warm, but he was comforting, and when his arms went around me, I shivered for an entirely different reason.
“I didn’t know you were afraid of flying,” he whispered into my hair. “I’m sorry.”
“I always think I’ll get better at it,” I muttered miserably. “But then I get on a plane and I wish I hadn’t. I really thought this would be different.”
I went to pull away, but he wrapped his arms around me tighter. I finally gave up and sank against his chest. Nestled into him, I could almost forget we were in a tin can hurtling through the air. Soon enough, my stomach settled and my nerves evened out. Not that he’d save me from a crash, but damn, there was something about being held in Forge’s arms that made me feel safe.
“We’re only about an hour out. Which means we have important details to decide on. Like what you want to do first? Edinburgh is a big city, and unfortunately, we won’t have a lot of time.”
“Don’t you… Shouldn’t we get ready for tonight?” I asked him. “There’s an awful lot riding on us being prepared.” Suddenly I didn’t feel at all prepared, not if I could be shaken up by a little turbulence. I looked at him, chewing my lip before I reminded myself to stop.
“We are ready, and tonight is a long way away. Which distillery do you want to visit first?”
My heart raced. “We won’t have time to go to Hadrian’s in Stirling, obviously. But could we possibly squeeze in Cameron?” Hadrian’s operation extended into the States and gave us a run for our money, but Cameron whisky was a small, private distillery, only producing a few thousand bottles a year. It was my very favorite, and I wanted to get a glimpse of their stills.
Forge actually cracked a cocky smile and strode to the door to the cockpit. Like he was telling a cab driver to drop him at the curb, he told the pilot, “Change of plans. File a new flight plan for Stirling, then another one for Perth.
“Now you don’t have to choose,” he told me, once again gathering me against him, as if we’d done this a hundred times. With his other hand, he sent a series of texts, then tucked his phone back in his pocket. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but landing in Stirling wrapped up in Forge’s arms was not it.
Nor was I prepared when he handed me a long, warm coat, something I’d not thought to bring.
I threw it on and followed him down to the bottom of the stairs, where he turned and offered me his hand to guide me the last few steps. A car was waiting, and I ducked under his arm as he held the door open, sliding in beside me.
“Welcome back, Mr. Forge,” the driver said, giving us both an enthusiastic nod in the rearview. “Good of you to visit us again in Stirling.” I had to use considerable brainpower to unravel the words from the accent, but Forge was way ahead of me.
“Good to be here, Bobby. I hope Seamus knows how much I appreciate this, especially on short notice.” Forge settled himself so his thigh lay the full length of mine. I didn’t move away.
“He’s waiting for you in the main cask house. I believe he’s tapping a special barrel, just for you.”
“Ach, I appreciate it, Bobby,” Forge murmured, then squeezed my knee.
It didn’t take long before Forge’s accent grew almost as thick as the driver’s. He was practically speaking Gaelic by the time we pulled up in front of an imposing stone building with Hadrian’s Distillery emblazoned on the front, the cobbled street in front of it just adding to the charm.
I’d spent the entire ride glued to the window, watching little towns and craggy mountains fly by as we maneuvered through the narrow roads. Forge and Bobby never stopped going back and forth, sounding more like old friends than driver and fare.
Forge got out first, thoroughly scrutinizing the building, then the street, before offering me his hand. Sliding mine into his, it felt natural, as if we’d been doing this forever. Not for the first time I wondered why, exactly, I was more comfortable with a vampire than someone of my own species.
“Bastian.” The owner—I assumed it was the owner—pulled Forge into a bear hug, and while they spoke quietly, I looked around the inside of the building. It was beautiful, with a layer of history that I could never hope to duplicate in Philadelphia, but the best thing was that I smelled mash.
“Are you brewing right now?” I asked.
The owner turned to me as if noticing me for the first time, and his look of shock was priceless.
“Seamus, may I present Selena Langston, owner of Langston-Forge in Philadelphia.”
Seamus winked at me, then took my hand and kissed it. “A good whisky, Langston-Forge, when we can get it.”
“As is yours—one of my favorites, to be honest,” I said.
“You hardly look old enough to drink, much less run a distillery.” Seamus’s voice dropped. “But when I heard your father passed, I was glad to see the company stayed in the family. There were rumors it would be broken up and sold.”
“I couldn’t let that happen.”
“I would think not.” Seamus snorted. “When whisky is in your blood, you can’t get it out. Money isn’t everything, you know, but a board… All they know is money. They don’t know shit about the business.”
“True,” I told him, “But to be fair, none of them grew up in the business—to them, we’re just another company.” I was aware of Forge’s hand slipping from mine as he went to the small table and sniffed the unlabeled bottle, then poured three glasses.
“A whisky brat, then, just like me.”
I laughed. “I’ve heard of army brats, but never a whisky brat. But yes, I grew up at my dad’s side at the distillery, learning as much as I could.” Seamus reminded me of Granddad, with his irreverent attitude and shooting me a mischievous wink after every comment.
Seamus chuckled and rubbed his hands together. �
��Let’s see how much you’ve learned, then. Tell me what you think, once you taste my finest creation.” Our table consisted of an old barrel and three mismatched chairs, but the complex cachet of the whisky reached my nose as Forge pressed a glass into my hand.
Seamus sat down heavily. “Let’s see how much you know, Selena Langston.”
I hid my smile. What Seamus didn’t know was that I’d studied his operation thoroughly. I was always looking at my competition, and Hadrian’s was my biggest, in terms of quantity. Hadrian’s was well run, and they distributed to every corner of the earth, while still maintaining their quality. After meeting Seamus, I could see why.
I took a tentative sip, letting the whisky warm my mouth and burn my nose before I swallowed.
“Smoky, but without the bitter bite, so you used peat to dry the barley. I can taste the oak… European oak barrels, I believe. And the citrus…” I took another sip and truly savored the loveliness of it this time. “Double-charred barrels.”
Seamus clapped his hands. “That is very good, Miss Langston. But all I had to see was the look on your face to know you truly enjoy it.” He poured another round, and we all raised our glasses. “Sláinte mhath.” The clink of our glasses sounded like a bell.
“What do you like most about making whisky?” Forge asked, his dark eyes searching mine over our glasses.
“I guess for me, it’s when I go somewhere and see a bottle of Langston-Forge, and I know either my dad or my grandpop bottled that. Knowing that really brings our family history home. I like knowing I can make a whisky that people truly love, and somehow, it makes the world seem like a smaller place.”
Something sparked in Forge’s eyes, just before he hid it away. “A very good reason to enjoy what you do.”
Seamus and Forge began a good-natured banter back and forth while I enjoyed the simple pleasure of whisky and good company. It had been a long time since I’d stopped and allowed myself to relax. Years, maybe, if I was honest, and it felt wonderful to let the warmth sink into me, to let Forge put his arm around my shoulder.
Devil's Cut: Immortal Keeper Vampire Paranormal Romance Series Page 7
