“Nay, he isnae a mon to doubt himself,” said Red Rob.
“Ye will come with us now, lass.”
Una looked at Donald as if he was a complete fool. “I dinnae think so. I have no wish to return to that madmon ye call a laird.”
“Ye would leave the others to suffer for your freedom?”
That stung, but she told herself not to let Donald pluck at her own sense of guilt and her fear for the others. “The others cannae suffer any more than they already do.”
“Nay, mayhap they cannae. But they can die.”
“The laird willnae kill them. So, I suggest ye just run along back to him and tell him ye couldnae find me.”
“Or what? Ye will call that brute who took ye away from us?”
She blinked in surprise. She had not even thought of calling for help. It had been so long since she had had anyone to aid her that she had simply fallen into the habit of caring for herself, not thinking of how useful Raibeart would be right now. Una opened her mouth to call for him only to find herself slammed to the ground by a charging Donald.
All the breath left her body and she could not have cried out for Raibeart even if she had been able to breathe before Red Rob gagged her with a filthy strip of cloth. She glared at the man but then saw a look in his eye she had become all too familiar with, and it made her heart clench with fear. Red Rob meant to sate his lusts on her, and the glance he sent Donald who sat on her back told her that he had no doubt that man would join him in the assault.
Panic gave her strength and she fought, thrashing around until she bucked Donald off her back, but her freedom was short-lived. Both men wrestled with her, struggling to pin her arms and legs to the ground. Una managed to strike several good blows and even gouged Red Rob’s arm with her nails, but they still managed to get her pinned to the ground. Terror washed over her, threatening to drag her into darkness, but she refused to faint and make it all so much easier for them.
“Bitch,” Donald growled as he wiped at the blood pouring from his nose with his filthy sleeve. “Ye will pay for that.”
Red Rob glared at her after he looked at the deep scratches on his arm. “I will make ye verra sorry for this, too.”
So many angry words crowded into her mouth she nearly choked on them. They were angry because she fought against their plan to abuse her? Una was just thinking that the world would be a much better place if such vermin were eradicated when Donald was suddenly lifted from her and tossed up against a tree.
“Move, love.”
Raibeart’s voice was so rough, so like the growl of an enraged animal, that Una barely understood him. She could see a whitefaced Red Rob trying to get to his feet so frantically that he kept stumbling and getting nowhere. It did not surprise her that the vicious little man looked terrified. Raibeart was a huge, strong, fanged predator. Even as she scrambled to get out of the way of what she suspected would be a very short battle, she now realized why Raibeart spoke of the beast inside of him. He was looking very feral and very dangerous.
She moved. Knowing her legs would be unsteady because of the terror that was only just leaving her, she scrambled backward, using her hands and feet until she came up against a tree. Una tore off her gag and watched as Raibeart stalked toward a trembling Red Rob. These men may have hunted ones like her, caught them, killed them, or imprisoned them, but they had obviously never met one of the clan she and the other had descended from.
Then, whether from sheer instinct to survive or from sudden surge of courage, Red Rob leapt to his feet and pulled his sword. Una nearly cried out a warning but knew it could distract Raibeart and clapped a hand over her mouth. A moment later she knew she did not need to fear for him. He exchanged a few sword thrusts with Red Rob before easily knocking the sword from the man’s hand.
“What are ye?” squeaked Red Rob.
“Your death.”
Una winced when Raibeart grabbed Red Rob, slammed him against a tree, and then sank his fangs into the man’s neck. She wanted to look away but could not. This was what she was, the blood thinned through marriage, but still MacNachton. Red Rob was still alive when Raibeart raised his head, idly wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and then snapped the man’s neck.
She looked at Donald at the same time Raibeart did. Donald was on his feet, his sword in his hand, but the look on his face told her that he knew he was about to die. Una did not flinch when Raibeart treated him the same way he had Red Rob. When Raibeart started to walk toward her, the feral look on his face slowly changing to one of uncertainty, she struggled to her feet. The way he had killed the men had been shocking, but she was not disgusted or afraid. Those men had killed a lot of her kind, had hunted them like animals, and had intended to rape her. She would have killed them herself if she had possessed Raibeart’s strength.
Raibeart cautiously reached to touch her cheek. When she did not flinch from his touch, he was almost weakened by the strength of the relief that swept through him. It was not until he had looked at the two dead men that his fury had eased enough for him to realize what he had done in front of her. He had let her see the beast that lived inside every MacNachton Pureblood, but she showed no fear of it. Unable to help himself, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He smiled with pleasure when, as he released her, she stumbled a little and it took a moment for the clouds of passion to clear from her eyes.
“Can ye ride?” he asked when she started to brush off her skirts and revealed no sign of any serious injury.
“I have been riding with ye for several days,” she said, a little confused by his question.
“Nay, can ye ride on your own? Their horses are just inside the woods. We can take them and then ye will have your own mount to ride.”
“Will that make us able to move more quickly and help ye to fight if the need arises?”
“Aye. Tor is a strong beast, but he is carrying two people, isnae he? One would be better, for I could get a wee bit more speed out of him without fear of tiring him too quickly.”
“Then let us get their horses.” She glanced at the two dead men. “Do we leave them for the carrion?”
“I think we have to as the others cannae be too far away.”
“So be it.”
In moments, Una found herself seated on a horse of her own. She looked down at Raibeart and smiled. “I have done little riding in my life so I hope ye will be patient with me.”
He patted her leg. “Ye will do fine.”
She watched him mount Tor, securing the reins of the third horse to the saddle, and grinned. He had just patted her. Shaking her head, she nudged her mount closer to his as they began to ride through the trees. She was going to miss being close to him as they rode together, holding him near and enjoying his warmth, but he was right. There would be a lot of advantages to their each being mounted.
The sky was already growing lighter by the time he led them to a small stone house. Una winced as she dismounted, her muscles aching. It required a lot more strength and attention to handle her own mount. She suspected the fight with Red Rob and Donald had added a few aches as well.
She was still sore after they ate, and Raibeart laid out their bedding while she washed up. Despite her best efforts not to, she let out a soft sound of pain as she settled down beside him. Una really wanted to taste the passion they could share again but suspected her body would make that impossible.
“Turn onto your belly, love,” Raibeart said, “and I will rub away some of those aches ye arenae hiding as weel as ye think ye are.”
She laughed as she turned onto her stomach. “As we are both naked, I was rather hoping we might be doing something else.”
“So was I, but ye have had a hard day. Ye need to rest and let the battering ye took heal a wee bit.”
The soft sounds she made as he rubbed her back and shoulders made him hard with need for her, but Raibeart did his best to hide it from her. She needed rest. The tension of pain began to leave her body beneath his hands and he was not surprised whe
n she soon fell asleep. Raibeart settled down next to her and pulled her into his arms, smiling when she cuddled up against his chest without waking. He would get no loving today but there was always the night.
Chapter Seven
Una woke to a fire raging through her body, the heat of Raibeart’s mouth upon her breast surging through her veins. She opened her eyes just enough to see his head against her skin and tangle her fingers in his hair. Then she gave herself over to the desire he stirred within her with every caress, every kiss. She did her best to touch him, to caress his warm skin, but he began to slide out of her reach, kissing her belly, and then her legs.
“Raibeart,” she called, clutching at his shoulders and trying to pull him back into her arms. I need . . .” She stuttered to a halt as she vainly searched for an appropriate word in her passion-clouded mind.
“So do I, love.”
He did not think he would ever get enough of the taste of her and the feel of her soft skin. Raibeart had wakened with a naked Una curled up in his arms and a need so fierce and demanding he had groaned. He knew they should be getting up, collecting their things, and riding hard and fast for Cambrun, but he could not resist the temptation to make love to her again. They would have little time for such pleasure in the next few days, not with eight other Lost Ones waiting to be saved.
Beneath his hands he felt her body tense with shock when he kissed the neat vee of blond curls between her strong slender thighs. Raibeart ignored her gasped protest and proceeded to make love to her with his mouth. She quickly went wild in his arms, her soft cries of pleasure sweet music to his ears. Una made him feel as if he was the greatest of lovers. When she cried out his name, demanding he join their bodies with all the haughty command of a queen, he laughed even as he obeyed her.
He thrust inside and paused, lightly pressing his forehead against hers. She was so tight and hot he wanted to stay there pinned on the knife’s edge of desire for hours. Then she wrapped her legs around him and he lost that last weak grip he had on his control, taking her with all the fierce, greedy hunger that had built up inside him, and sending them both tumbling into release.
Una barely twitched when Raibeart gently cleaned her off. She did not think she would be able to move again for hours. A small part of her mind tried to make her feel shamed, or at least a little embarrassed, over all she had allowed him to do, but she silenced it. He had driven her mad with need and she really hoped he planned to do it again. If that made her shameless or wanton, she was prepared to accept that. She smiled weakly when he returned to her arms and kissed her.
“This wee stone cottage is verra nice,” she said, idly stroking his strong back. “As dark and dry as the crypt but no dead sharing it with us.”
“And, sadly, no bath, either.” He kissed her cheek. “Ye can have a bath as soon as we reach Cambrun.”
“Tonight?”
He nodded. “That is my plan. We may have to race for the gates, however, but that has been done before. Some of our men have brought Lost Ones home with hunters hard on their heels.”
“I am bringing danger to your home.”
“It has come before and, nay doubt, it will come again.”
“And ye are certain your clan will help us save the others caged at Dunmorton?”
“They will be aching to ride out the moment the sun begins to set.” He slapped her lightly on her thigh and then stood up to stretch. “And that is what we should have done but”—he winked at her over his shoulder—“I woke to a temptation too great to resist.”
Una slipped out from beneath the blanket the moment his back was to her so that she could dress. It was impossible to take her gaze off him, however. He was so big and strong, his shoulders broad and his muscles taut. His skin was dark, as if he had spent a lot of time basking naked in the sun, something she knew he could never do. When she caught herself reaching out with the urge to touch his taut backside, she shook the haze from her mind and hastily finished dressing. Raibeart was certain that they would soon have all the help they needed from his friends. It was time to cease thinking of smooth broad backs, lovemaking, and wooing.
Una took a deep drink of the enriched wine Raibeart apparently had an unending supply of and watched him as he studied the shadowed areas all around them. They still had not shaken the hunters even though there were now only four of them. She was surprised the hunters had not given up yet, especially if they had found the bodies of Red Rob and Donald. When Raibeart turned to look at her, she held the wineskin out to him.
It had bothered her in the beginning that drinking the blood-enriched wine could make her stronger. That need for blood had always troubled her, and she had been glad that the dark hunger had risen only rarely. Now she was stronger and healthier than she had been in years and, at some time during the journey, she had accepted that part of her. What preyed on her mind now was that she had the urge to bite Raibeart when they made love, just as he bit her. She was not bothered by his need to take a wee sip, as he called it, but she was not sure she liked the fact that she was rapidly wanting to do the same.
“No need to frown so, love,” he said and reached out to lightly rub away the lines on her brow. “We will be at Cambrun soon.”
“ ’Tis that close?” She had no intention of telling him what was really making her frown.
“Two, three miles. Ye see that wee mountain just ahead?”
“I see some of it and then it disappears into a misty cloud.”
“Aye, there is always some mist sheltering us from view. I think ’tis one of the reasons our ancestors chose this place. That and the caves beneath the keep.”
“Ah. But, if ye live in caves, why trouble building a keep?”
“The keep is kept dark, too, and our laird stays in it. And the caves arenae like the one we stayed in. The Purebloods have made themselves a fine place down there.” He decided not to tell her that he, too, had a place down there, that such news was best held back until she decided to stay with him.
“And if the hunters follow us right to the gates?”
“They will die there. There is no mercy for the ones who hunt us.”
“Nay, I wouldnae expect there to be any. I dinnae care to think on how many poor souls have died at the hands of men like the laird, and I suspicion nay all of them were truly of MacNachton blood.”
“True, but too many nonetheless. All MacNachtons carry the weight of those deaths. We should have kenned the chance that bairns were bred outside the clan. It has happened at Cambrun, so we kenned it wasnae impossible.”
“That was the responsibility of the men who bred those children, nay you. They didnae tell ye that had bedded a woman here and there, so how were ye to ken that there was any chance of a child?”
“We all ken how a child is begotten, so when a mon would boast of what pleasure he had found, or taken, for himself, someone should have considered the possibility that there would be a child. Now no mon leaves Cambrun without being recalled to that responsibility.” He suddenly inhaled deeply and then cursed.
“What is it?”
“The hunters draw near, love. I can smell their sweat and their horses. We are going to have to ride hard and fast now. Will ye be able to do that?”
Una nodded and gripped the reins of her mount a little tighter. “Will the horses be able to follow the trail at such speed?”
“Easily enough for a while as the moon is bright and, once we are on the path that winds up the hill, our enemies will have to slow as much as we will. Ready?” he asked even as he freed the third horse he had secured to his mount, knowing it would follow them now.
“Aye.”
The moment Raibeart kicked his mount into a gallop, Una did the same. She did not look at the land they rode through, knowing she would be unsettled by the sight of all the trees, obstacles that could prove a real danger to an unskilled rider such as she was. Instead she kept her gaze fixed on Raibeart, knowing he would lead her in the right direction.
Raibeart
could hear the hunters riding hard behind them. It was going to be a close-run race. If it were only himself he had to worry about, he would stop and face the four men squarely. In truth, he would have stopped running and stalked them, a silent killer slipping in and out of the shadows. But, he had to think of Una’s safety first and not just because she was a woman. She was his woman. Leaving her on her own so that he could hunt down the men hunting them had never been a choice.
Once he started on the winding rocky path up the mountain, he signaled Una to slow down. He knew that, from below, it would soon appear as if they had just disappeared into the mists, but he doubted that would stop the hunters. They had come too far and lost two men. The laird of Dunmorton could also have promised punishments so dire that failure was more frightening than facing a MacNachton. At least until he met them face-to-face, he thought with a touch of satisfaction. Soon the men following them would discover why his clan was still feared despite the fact that all that was left of their vicious past were tales whispered in the dark.
Una stared at the keep before them, barely noting that the path they followed had grown a great deal wider. It had appeared out of the mists with little warning and was a formidable building. It looked as if it had grown straight up out of the rock it was set on. She wondered if the ones who had built it had made it look so threatening on purpose. From what little Raibeart had told her of his ancestors, she suspected they had.
She was about to ask Raibeart a few questions about his overpowering home when he suddenly turned to look behind them. Una turned back as well and cursed. The hunters had caught up with them. She had the fleeting thought that it was odd for Angus to be riding behind the others, for he was a man who led, not followed, and then Raibeart appeared at her side.
“Tell my kin there are hunters on our lands,” he said and gave her mount a slap on its rump.
Her horse jumped forward and began to run toward the keep, the spare horse right beside it. From what little she could see while attempting to rein the animal in, Cambrun was set in a rocky valley between two mountains. Daring a look back at Raibeart, she saw him draw his sword and face Dunmorton’s hunters. When it looked as if the still mounted Angus was actually backing away, leaving the other three men to face Raibeart, Una decided being on the back of a running horse was making her vision play tricks on her. Angus was one of the laird’s coldest, cruelest killers and not one to back away from a fight.
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