“The Third Fate…” he rasped. “I know.”
He collected his thoughts, determining what action to take. Clarity was beginning to demonstrate how Anna Kinnell had hidden his child from him all those years ago. Through this woman she’d summoned the Fates and bargained a new Fate for the child. If the evidence told true, she was about to do so again.
Human lives were governed by three Fates. A few held that through magic the Fates could be convinced to alter a human’s fate – for a price. Since his daughter’s first Fate had been altered, she was under her second. If Anna Kinnell re-negotiated with the Fates yet again, The Third Fate would claim dominion over his child’s existence.
Malcolm could never allow that to happen.
“This game we play becomes more dangerous by the day, vampire,” Pilar reminded him. “You ask me to expose myself, to risk everything, and I will do it for you, Malcolm. But I, in turn, require something from you. Maybe more than a simple something.”
“What will you have of me, Druid?”
“Protection for half-born vampires, Malcolm.”
“Do you know what you are asking of me, Pilar? I am but one member of the Council! I wield influence, but not the power to reshape vampire law single-handed. You must know that I will do whatever is in my power to aid you, but you ask a promise I cannot guarantee.”
“You maneuver to help this half-born of your own because you have felt her Awakening. Expose yourself and use your power! I know what you are capable of. I’ll need more than your word.”
“What more can I give than my word, Pilar?”
Malcolm’s unease grew by the second. He wanted to help Pilar, more than he would admit, but he could not guarantee the Council’s compliance.
“What I will require, Malcolm of Clan Gaunson, is your seed.”
“What?” Malcolm blanched, understanding her logic too well.
“Do not think to deny me, Malcolm. Unless, of course, you’ve no further need to cloak your thoughts.”
Pilar played a game of cat and mouse she had to win. Not only would her bargain secure her kind’s rightful place in the vampire realm, it would force Malcolm to confront his feelings for her. Too long had she waited, hoping he would accept his past mistakes and learn to move on. He wanted her. He needed her. He had confessed it, unknowingly, when he allowed her into his mind. He loved her.
“It will be your own child’s life you campaign for, vampire.”
Malcolm understood perfectly. It was Pilar, he feared, who didn’t understand what she had bargained for.
Chapter Eight
Cael rounded the corner only to watch the car pull away from the curb.
Bluidy hell…
When he finally had her safe in his arms, he’d make her pay for her foolishness. But before that enjoyable task, he had to do something few ever accomplished. He had to thwart the Fates. Speaking the incantation, Cael Maccinnis disappeared from sight.
Doona think of yer destination, Paige, else I’ll be waitin’ for ye.
As he planned, she thought of the airport immediately. He smiled, already there, watching. Paige scanned all around after getting out of the car, her cousins and aunt chatting in ignorant bliss as they unloaded luggage from the trunk. Even with his cloaking Paige should faintly sense him after tasting his blood. It was the power of their bond.
In an instant, he was behind her.
“Didna I tell ye, lass? Ye canna run from me.”
Her breath hitched at his silken, knowing voice.
“Cael, please, I can’t do this now. Let me go and we’ll talk when I get back.”
Her emotion did move him, but not enough to alter his plan.
“Ye willna be goin’ anywhere, lass, but with me.”
“I can and I will!” she huffed angrily. “You dare to tell me what I can or cannot do?”
“Doona force my hand, Paige. I’m askin ye to trust me,” he husked, taking her around the waist.
“Trust you?” she whispered. “Trust isn’t a word that comes to mind when I remember you bit me!”
She pushed at his chest, afraid to remain in his embrace a moment more.
Brooke and Lara watched in silent awe, never having seen Paige more forceful, more passionate than at this moment. Anna began to chant, closing her eyes in communion with her spell-casting.
Cael glanced over, irritated.
“Woman, cease yer useless magic. I’ve unraveled enchantments more difficult than what ye weave a thousand years past.”
He held up his hand at her gasp, enthralling the twins and wiping their memories.
“Anna Kinnell,” he spoke gently. “Why do ye hate me? I am her kind.”
“I’ll never see ye have her!” Anna shrieked. “It was one of yer kind that stole away my sister. I’ll not lose her daughter too!”
Cael considered. It was not as if the woman could stop him, yet he had no desire to see her suffer from the thought that he’d hurt Paige.
“Ye doona have to lose her, Anna Kinnell,” he reasoned.
“Excuse me!” Paige interjected. “You’re talking about me like I’m not even here. It’s up to me where I go and who I go with.”
“Paige,” Anna cried, “Yer mother, rest her soul, got herself mixed up with one of these undead demons, and she paid with her life! Don’t make the same mistake!”
“He’s not a demon!” Paige argued.
It gave him hope.
“Paige…” Cael started.
“I am going on my vacation, Cael Maccinnis. I’ll talk to you when I get back,” she stated forcefully. “As for you, Sissy, we’ll talk on our trip. You have some explaining to do. And whatever I decide will be my own choice, not yours – or yours,” Paige declared, pointing her finger first at her aunt and then at Cael.
“Whatever explainin’ she owes ye will have to wait. Ye leave me no choice with yer stubborn-headed ways, lass.”
Turning to Anna after wrapping Paige in his arms and entrancing her in his thrall Cael warned, “Take yer daughters and leave this place, Anna Kinnell. Darkness and destruction surround it and all within. It’s the reason I canna leave her. If she survives the Awakening I’ll bring her to ye again, old woman.”
Anna’s open mouthed stare was the last thing he saw before he spirited himself and Paige away to the Highlands. His presence in her mind, calming and stilling, was necessary, for the nothingness encapsulating them was terrifying the first time one experienced its emptiness.
“Hold to me, lass,” he advised Paige, clasping her against his chest. “It’ll be over in a minute.”
Instead of responding Paige allowed herself to be cradled in his protective embrace, trembling as blackness, emptiness as horrifying as hell itself, closed around them. The sensation of movement filled her ears, although it seemed they never left the spot on which they stood. Paige burrowed closer to Cael’s chest, closing her eyes and clinging to him, unable to keep her bearings in the swirling bleakness. As quickly as it began, it ended.
*
Solitary, it stood upon the slow grade straight and proud. Well cared for, no hint of disrepair showed about the house, but loneliness hung about the white and brown exterior. The ground, yet green, rose to meet the foundation of the large home. Soggy beneath her foot trail along the slope to the main entrance, swampy depressions in the earth brimmed with water from the nearby loch. Stillness pervaded the air, peaceful and welcoming. Liking the scenery about her compounded Paige’s anger. She wanted to find fault, to nurse her ire.
Cael spoke not, sensing her volatile mood, and silently scooped her into his arms and carried her through the front door. Planting her on the shiny wood floor he gestured toward the coat hooks and shoe bench along the entryway hall. He continued about his familiar routine without a glance at her and disappeared into the house, leaving her alone. Sinking to the bench in confused despair, Paige Kinnell let loose the tears of frustration that had steadily built. Taken against her will and frightened of what was to become of her, Pai
ge sobbed uncontrollably. Her aunt’s veiled confession carried the sting of betrayal, and Cael’s bringing her here despite her flat out refusal angered her beyond belief.
Collecting her torrid thoughts and wiping her tears, Paige hung her coat and set her shoes neatly on the rack. Minutes ticked by, but she remained alone in the entryway. Curiosity, at last, got the better of her, and she began exploring the rooms which opened off either side of the center hallway.
Simplicity reigned in the living room. An Egyptian area rug anchored the leather sofa and loveseat before the massive fireplace, its terra-cotta tiles stretching out toward the wooden floor planks. Mismatched stone edged the tiles, taken uncut from the earth and fitted to display its natural beauty with stunning effect. Cream colored draperies lined with a darker fabric blocked the light. And along the farthest wall situated beneath a bank of tinted rectangular windows, built in bookshelves stood, carved with magnificent detail. Paige concluded they must be Cael’s work. Reaching for a book whose cover caught her eye, she jumped when fire roared to life behind her - even though she remained the sole being in the room.
The pause in activity interrupted her thoughts, and she first heard the howling wind as it whipped around the house’s corners and up over the hills in the fore. A groan, wrenched from the house itself, carried a living quality that made Paige shudder in spite of impressive heat radiating from the nearby fire. The baying of hounds, however, froze her in her tracks a moment, and she abandoned these bookshelves to inspect the other side of the house, gazing out upon the rolling green in hopes of catching a glimpse of the dogs.
Retracing her steps she crossed the hallway, entering a large library and office. From floor to ceiling books lined the shelves here, and it was all she could do to pass them even for a moment in her search for the yowling dogs. Their beastly howls ceased, but Paige was certain the dogs freely prowled the grounds.
This is to be my prison…
Fresh tears brimmed at the prospect.
Ye know better, lass. Ye cut me to the marrow with that way of thinkin’.
Her cheeks flamed in humility, and anger.
You forced me here against my will, Cael Maccinnis, and you can keep me here with your dogs. But stay out of my thoughts! They’re all I’ve got of myself left, and I don’t want you in them.
His chuckle vibrated through her body even in his absence.
I can no more leave ye than ye can leave me, Paige Kinnell. Ye know I speak the truth. Doona fight what’s happenin’ to ye, and doona push me away. Ye need me now like ye need air and water. And soon, lass, ye will need my blood.
Never!
Her single worded response spat vehemently in his thoughts.
Bluidy hell, woman! Ye are a stubborn creature. But ye will see things differently when the thirst comes upon ye.
He laughed his reply, infuriating Paige further.
“You’re a pompous man, Cael Maccinnis!” she announced to no one aside from herself.
The empty room absorbed her words without acknowledgment. Paige hugged herself, a sense of defeat creeping into her soul. A new thought broke into her brooding. Cael had said thirst would come on her. She shivered, knowing exactly what he’d been talking about. But the way he said it made her question if the little she’d experienced was only the beginning.
*
Harry and Jael scurried from the path of the plane as it hurled across the room.
“No one defies Fate!” Charity yelled, face red with fury. “She’s mine!”
“What happened, Charity?” Jael’s young voice questioned.
“He’s not playing right! That’s what! Paige isn’t on the plane. Her Fate belongs to me, and he just took her away when it was finally my turn to play. It’s not fair!”
She turned, looking hard at Jael.
“Did you show him the whole thing, Jael?”
Jael shifted uncomfortably in her dress. Charity was angry.
“Tell me the truth, Jael,” Charity cooed. “I won’t be mad, I promise.”
“Well, sort of…”
“Sort of?” Charity led her on, determined to know.
“I didn’t want her to go on the plane, Charity!” Jael sobbed, breaking quickly under her sister’s knowing eyes. “I was afraid you’d send her to the Netherworld, so I made up the last part myself.”
“Send who to the Netherworld?” Charity asked, confused for a minute by her sister’s confession.
“Paige Kinnell,” Jael cried, hugging her sister tightly. “I like her, Charity.”
“Paige Kinnell?” Charity laughed, wrapping her sister in her arms, a comforting gesture. “That’s beside the point, Jael. Cael Maccinnis ruined my plans, and now he shall pay for it.”
Charity paced the floor, abandoning her contrite sister to Harry’s shoulder. When her eyes lit anew, both siblings waited expectantly for her decision.
“I know,” Charity smiled at them. “We’ll make it a game! Wouldn’t you like to play another game?”
Jael clapped her hands, tears forgotten in light of Charity’s news.
“Tell us all about it!” Jael squealed gleefully. “Can we begin now?”
“Almost,” Charity answered. “First, we’re going to visit the Council.”
*
Malcolm would not give in to Pilar’s demands, no matter how he desired them as an excuse to loose himself upon her.
Drink and turn her…
Shaking the ancient command from his mind, he faced the alternative. The Council would be privy to his darkest secret. And to his deceptions. Neither path appealed, but justice for his child demanded he own his choices from years gone by. He would not bring another half-born into the world until things changed. As for Pilar, he needed to avoid her. Thirst high, he would succumb easily with the bond calling and her open invitation to take.
He strode into his dressing room to prepare to face the Council.
“You’ve yet to answer my demands, vampire.”
Pilar’s voice sliced through him like a hot knife.
How had she gotten inside his private dressing chamber?
He dared not ask. Slight tremors shook his hands, his mind warring to resist the bonding call.
“You know not what you ask of me,” he rasped, her scent already wreaking havoc with his senses, driving his desire to possess her.
“But I do, Malcolm of Clan Gaunson,” she responded calmly. “I ask that you give yourself the incentive needed to ensure you attain the goal. It’s beautiful in its simplicity.”
She neared, brushing against his arm as she passed.
His pained growl filled the dressing room and he grabbed her roughly by the arms, covering her mouth with his own, ravishing her in a fury of possessive angst.
Tearing his lips from her he ground out, “It would be our child, Pilar, that filled your belly. Not a half-born. Not an incentive.”
Her chest rose and fell with the lasting effects of their kiss, and he saw pained emotion in her brown eyes. Just as quickly she wiped it away, replacing it with the mask of strength normally found upon her countenance. Malcolm knew he would ponder it when once again alone.
“You claim great emotion for a child you deny life,” she returned.
“Pilar,” he ground out raggedly, “in the name of all you hold dear, remove yourself from my presence before I…”
One look at him altered her disposition. He turned back to face her breathing heavily, eyes blood red, their green-gold beauty hidden beneath fevered blood lust. She made to leave, to abandon her plan, but his thrall caught her, binding her in place as he slowly approached.
“Malcolm?” she breathed in a hush, no notion of whether this was the same man she loved.
She had never seen him like this. He only came nearer.
Pressing his lips to her forehead, Malcolm’s hands trailed over her shoulders and arms as he breathed deeply, groaning low as his warm breath swept across her skin. He nestled hungrily against her neck, scraping his sharp incisors over her
tender flesh. A whimper escaped her, and Pilar understood without doubt that she had overplayed her hand. In pressing him to reveal his feelings for her and in hopes of gaining recognition for her kind she had aroused the blood lust of a powerful ancient. The terrible truth dawned; he could take every drop, and she’d be helpless to stop him.
“Pilar,” he murmured roughly against her skin.
His lips sucked at her flesh, trailing to her chest. Ripping her blouse open, he tore the lace covering her breasts and captured one dusky nipple in his bite.
She was lost to sensation. As a half-born and Druid priestess, Pilar had never taken a man to her bed. It was frowned upon as sexual urges could begin the Awakening that even her powerful enchantments would be unable to stop. Without thought she began undulating against the hand that stroked between her thighs, the material of her slacks an irritant she suddenly wished begone.
A troubled cry erupted as she discovered them gone, just as she had willed them. She was frightening herself, unable to summon the will to halt the progression she craved. Malcolm’s hands and lips deftly stroked her flesh, and he ground against her, the long, thick length of him pressing against her belly. Her body tightened deliciously, responding with warmth and wetness where before had been none.
He growled against her breast, “I can smell your desire, Pilar.” His voice was seductive, wicked, desirous, as he slid a finger along her virgin flesh. “So silky and wet,” he whispered, the sound of his voice touching somewhere deep inside her.
Malcolm slowly pushed his finger inside her and she cried out, the newness of being touched there along with his expert caresses more than she thought to bear. Her legs buckled, and but for his strength she would have melted to the ground.
“And untried,” he husked, her virginity both pleasing and troubling.
He groaned in pleasure and frustration, dropping to suck at her petaled flesh as his finger stretched her. Tiny whimpers of pleasure caressed his ears, his thirst growing wild as she pressed against his mouth and hand. She was a virgin. Malcolm was too far gone to deny himself a drink of her. She cried out as release washed over her, and Malcolm rose, piercing her breast to at last indulge his craving. His bite produced another more intense orgasm, and Pilar bucked against him, desperate for his filling, his bite, his all, lost in the pleasure she enjoyed at his command. Malcolm nearly exploded at the taste of her. The urge to bare his cock and sink within her demanded obedience.
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