He opened his eyes and nearly groaned aloud. The way Alice was kneeling in front of him put her plump, firm breasts far too close to his mouth. He stared at them, watching them rise and fall gently with every breath she took, and his mouth watered. Exhausted though he was after a night of hunting, sleep was suddenly the last thing he wanted. He told himself not to touch her even as he placed his hands around her small waist.
Alice slowly lowered herself until she was face-to-face with Gybbon, one hand still lightly tangled in his thick hair. He was just steadying her, she told herself, and felt strangely disappointed. The look in his eyes disputed that conclusion but she did not know enough of men to be confident of that. For all she knew, it could be anger putting that heated look in his eyes.
“There was a wee gash,” she said, “but it healed e’en as I looked at it.”
“That is because I fed tonight,” he explained and saw her quickly hide a flinch. “I gave the man a choice, lass. Flee or die. He chose to die. Since he wanted to toss his life away, I saw nay reason to waste what he could give me.”
“Strength.”
“Aye. And two blankets, a wee bit of food, and a few coins.”
“I have robbed the dead, too,” she confessed softly, trying not to stare at his tempting mouth so close to hers and failing miserably. “A wee part of me cringed but my mind kept saying that he didnae need it now and I did, the children did.”
“And that it would only be taken by someone else.”
“Aye.”
“I am going to give ye a choice now, lass. Ye can stay right where ye are and let me kiss ye, or ye can move away. Best decide quickly, as I have waited a long time.”
“Ye have only kenned me for two days.” She knew she ought to move but curiosity and temptation held her in place.
“As I said, a verra long time.”
He pressed his lips to hers. The soft warmth of them surprised Alice. She slid her hand down the back of his head until it rested upon the back of his neck. The heat of his kiss seeped through her body and she blindly pressed closer to him. When he teased her lips with the tip of his tongue it caused her lips to tingle and she gasped softly. Alice was startled when he put his tongue in her mouth. Her astonishment disappeared in a haze of heat as he stroked the inside of her mouth.
The slow caresses of his hands up and down her back and sides made Alice tremble with the strength of the desire he was stirring to life inside her. The feeling was both exhilarating and terrifying. She offered no resistance as he pushed her down onto the blanket, wrapping her arms around him to hold him close as he sprawled on top of her. The soft growl he made as the full length of their bodies pressed together aroused her more than the sweetest of flatteries.
Then she became aware of the long, hard length of his manhood rubbing against her. Alice fought to push aside the insidious advance of fear. She told herself it was not a thing to fear, that this man would never wield that part of him as a weapon, but the fear grew stronger. It chilled the heat of desire she had been enjoying and then forced her mind into the dark quagmire of terrifying memory.
Gybbon suddenly found his arms full of a terrified woman intent on doing him harm. He silently cursed himself for a fool for forgetting what Alice had suffered in the past. As quickly as he could, he moved to kneel beside her, his hands out to the side as he called her name.
“’Tis Gybbon, Alice,” he said in as soothing a voice as he could manage while his body was knotted up with unsatisfied need. “Ye are safe. I am nay Callum. I willnae hurt ye.”
“I ken it,” Alice said, taking several deep breaths as she continued to push aside the icy fear that had conquered her heart and mind. “I am sorry.” Too embarrassed to look at him, she wrapped herself in her blanket and curled on her side, facing away from him. “I had thought the scars had healed,” she whispered, her disappointment nearly choking her.
“They will heal,” he said as he wrapped himself in a blanket as well and settled down at her back. “’Tis just the first time ye have tested the strength of them.”
“Aye.”
He put his arm around her and pulled her close, pleased when she only tensed a little. “I was too quick. Next time I will go slowly.”
Alice knew she ought to firmly tell him that there would be no next time, but she just closed her eyes.
Chapter Five
“He is late,” Alice complained to Nightwind.
She paced in front of the mare that placidly nuzzled the ground looking for tasty things to chew. It was foolish to be so concerned, she told herself. Gybbon was a big, strong man, one skilled in battle. He was also far better at hunting and killing than the men he now hunted. Even though the Hunters had grown more cautious, in the last three days Gybbon had lessened their numbers to four. He was a deadly shadow at their heels.
Yet, the cursed Hunters did not give up. Alice did not understand that. When a man could lessen your numbers by half without even being seen, when the female you hunted could bring down a grown man with only her hands and teeth, why continue? Why not at least return home to plan and gather more men and weapons?
She could understand why Callum continued, for she knew he needed to remove what he saw as a grave sin and a stain upon his honor, his very soul. He had made that increasingly clear in every confrontation they had had since he had raped her. That did not, however, explain why the others continued to follow him as they watched one after another of their companions disappear into the night never to return. It was madness. Alice knew the men believed they were trying to rid the world of what they saw as a great evil, but did that mean they could not even rest now and then?
“Whate’er this fervor is that has grasped these Hunters, it robs the men of all good sense, of even their soul-deep need to survive,” she muttered, earning only a brief glance from her mare. “And I begin to think Gybbon has tumbled into the same madness.” She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled in the direction Gybbon had ridden. “The two of us together could face down and defeat our foe now. Why does Gybbon continue to do it alone? I shall tell ye why. He doesnae think I can fight despite surviving for so long without his blessed help. He probably thinks I have just been lucky or that the ones hunting us are unskilled lack-wits. I may nay be one of those mighty Purebloods but I have strength and fighting skills, ones I have learned weel over the last six years.”
Alice glanced up at the sky and cursed. Gybbon had said he would return in time for them to reach shelter before the sun peeked over the horizon. Unless he rode up in the next few minutes he would not be keeping that promise. They certainly would not reach the next place of shelter before the sun was up and shining on both of them. Even if they started right now and the shelter they needed was close by, Gybbon would still be out in the sun long enough for it to begin to leech his strength away.
“Gybbon is never late,” she said and felt a chill wiggle through her that had nothing to do with the cold mists of dawn. “’Tis true that I havenae even kenned the mon for a sennight yet, but he is always where he has said he would be exactly when he said he would be there. Especially when it concerns getting to a shelter ere the sun has risen too high in the sky. Instead I stand here alone talking to a horse. Nay, something isnae right, Nightwind.”
She clenched her fists at her side and struggled against the urge to start bellowing his name. Despite not being a Pureblood, Gybbon could not abide much sun, far less than she could. He was always intensely aware of when the sun would rise and set. He simply would not risk his life like this. Nor would he want to have her suffer from the sun in even the smallest way. Alice feared that this time Gybbon had not been as quick or as stealthy as before or, worse, he had stumbled into a trap.
That last word nearly stopped her heart beating. Just thinking the possibility that Gybbon had fallen into a trap made her tremble with fear for Gybbon. Alice could not claim that she had the sight, even if she did have the occasional dream that gave her a timely warning. What she did know was tha
t she had very keen instincts, and every one of them was telling her that Gybbon was in grave danger. In the years she had been running and hiding she had learned to heed those instincts. They had saved her more times than she cared to count. Now she felt sure they were trying to save Gybbon with their alarums.
Grabbing Nightwind’s reins, Alice began to follow Gybbon’s trail. The man was careful not to leave enough sign of his passing for the Hunters to see, but her eyesight was far keener than their enemies’ and the blood Gybbon had been making her drink in the wine had made them even keener. She knew he would be angry with her for following him but she did not care. Far better to be lectured by him than to discover much later that if she had just done something, she might have saved his life. Alice did not want those chains of guilt dragging her down for the rest of her life.
And when they reached shelter this time, she would conquer the last of her fear, she silently vowed. It had lessened with each one of Gybbon’s kisses, with each stroke of his hand. It was past time to vanquish the last of it. The fear that something had happened to Gybbon had made one thing very clear to Alice. It was far more than lust that kept her returning to Gybbon’s arms, kept her risking the chance of recalling the horror of Callum’s attack every time she felt the hard proof of Gybbon’s desire press against her. She had no intention of allowing Gybbon to get himself killed until she had discovered just what that more was. He had started the seduction and he could damn well stay around until he finished it, she thought crossly.
Gybbon echoed every move the Hunter made as he waited for the man to strike. This man was not going to be a quick kill. The Hunter had not only refused to flee, he had been cocky in that refusal. Considering how many of the man’s companions had already died, that made no sense to Gybbon. He doubted the fool considered himself a far more skilled fighter than his dead companions, although such arrogance was a possibility. This man did not have the same look of religious fervor in his small dark eyes, either.
Bait.
The word whispered through Gybbon’s mind and he cursed. He did not want to believe he had been foolish enough to step into a trap but every instinct he had was suddenly screaming that that was exactly what he had done. This man had not been caught; he had done the catching. And if Gybbon did not break free of the trap soon, Alice would be left alone. The thought chilled him to the bone.
He had not even told her how to get to Cambrun, he suddenly thought. In his arrogance, he had assumed he would be the victor of this battle and would take her there when it was all over. Gybbon quickly pushed aside what tasted too much like fear, a fear for Alice’s safety. He could not allow himself to be distracted by concern for her. He had to worry about himself. If luck was still on his side, he could escape this trap. The fact that he was already hoping for luck to save him did not make Gybbon feel much better.
A heartbeat later he knew there would be no escape for him, that he had allowed his thoughts to distract him enough to miss someone creeping up behind him. Pain crashed through his head. Gybbon tried to turn and face whoever had struck him from behind, but staggered and fell to his knees. A second blow fell and the cascade of agony laid him out on the ground, bringing him down so swiftly that he had no chance to even put out his hands to ease his fall. His last clear thought before he was dragged into blackness was of Alice and how he had failed her.
Gybbon instinctively smothered a groan as he woke up, slowly dragging himself out of the dark he had been plunged into. The pounding in his head was so fierce his eyes hurt, felt as if they were trying to escape his skull. For a moment he wondered what was wrong with him and then the memory of two hard blows to his head seeped into his mind. The fact that his head still throbbed told him the injury done to it had been a serious one. He started to lift his hand to his aching head and froze.
He was tied down. All reluctance to open his eyes fled. Gybbon ignored the increased ache in his head as the soft light of dawn struck his eyes like a blow, and looked around. He was staked out on the ground just inside the woods surrounding a small clearing, his arms and legs tethered to four thick tree trunks. A brief tug was enough to let him know those ropes were thick and strong, the knots tight. His strength had been too badly leeched away by the injury to his head, and the others he was beginning to feel, to allow him to snap the ropes quickly. The way the four men moving toward him were watching him, he would have to break his ties very quickly to have even the smallest chance of escape. At his full strength he could have done it, and leapt into the fight before the fools even knew he had freed himself. At the moment, just the thought of leaping anywhere was more than he could bear.
The man Gybbon now knew was Callum stopped barely a foot away. A snarl rose up inside Gybbon and rumbled in his throat as he met the cold gray gaze of the one who had so badly hurt Alice. The way the three men with Callum took a slight step back would have pleased him if his attention had not been so fixed upon Callum. The beast that lived inside every MacNachton wanted this man’s blood and was enraged by the weakness that prevented him from tearing out the man’s throat.
He would not feed from him, Gybbon decided coldly, only taking enough to let the man know he had been right about some of what he had believed about the MacNachtons. Enough to make the man fear for his soul just before he died. As far as Gybbon was concerned the man’s soul was already damned for what he had done to Alice and what he yet planned to do to her and his own child. Unfortunately, he knew a man like Callum would not see what he had done or wanted to do as a crime.
“They say the sun kills demons like ye,” Callum said.
The man’s voice was rough and unusually hoarse. Gybbon wondered why he had not noticed that when the man had spoken that night Gybbon had found Alice. Fighting to see clearly despite the faint haze of pain clouding his eyes, Gybbon studied the man closely. After a good long look, he finally saw why the man’s voice was so unusual. A ragged scar marred his throat, a mark he recognized as having been made by an animal or, he almost smiled, a MacNachton. Alice had nearly killed the man. With either her teeth or the lethal claws her fingernails could become, she had tried to tear out the man’s throat. His Alice was a strong fighter, he thought with pride.
His Alice? Gybbon silently cursed. She was that and more. He wondered what twist of fate made him realize that now. It was a poor time for such a revelation. He had no time to sort through his feelings or question just why he had marked her. If nothing else it would probably only add to the pain he felt, for there was a very good chance he would never see her again. Telling himself that if she found her way to Cambrun his clan would care for her only brought him small comfort.
“They say a lot of foolish things,” he replied, not surprised when his calm, faintly derisive words caused Callum to narrow his eyes in anger. “One has to question the wit of any who would listen to such mad talk.” Gybbon hid his pain when the man kicked him in the side. “Ah, time for the gentle persuasion, is it?”
“Ye willnae be so cocky soon. Despite the shade the trees offer, the sun will soon be shining down on ye.”
“Aye. A rare sight in this land and one to enjoy the few times we are blessed to see it.”
“Mayhap that talk of the sun killing them wasnae right, Callum,” muttered a short, thick-set man. “And werenae we supposed to try to catch us one of these demons?”
“We have caught one, Duncan,” said Callum.
“I was meaning catch one to be taking back to the laird so that he can be made to talk and all. The laird badly wants one of these demons so he can look them over. Has him some questions for the beastie, aye?”
“This beastie has killed four of our men. And we will be answering a few questions by watching what does happen to demons like him once they are forced to meet the light of day, aye?”
Duncan scratched his weak chin. “I be thinking the laird has more than one question he is wanting answered.”
“Then he can hunt down and capture one of these thrice-cursed beasts himself. This one
is ours. There is also one more of his ilk creeping about, isnae there. Mayhap we should take the lass to the laird. Aye, there is a thought. I suspicion the laird would like to see what a female demon is like.”
A chill rippled through Gybbon. He could not halt the memories of what had happened to his cousins Heming and Tearlach when they had been captured by Hunters from swamping his mind. Their tales of captivity had enraged every MacNachton alive and sent the icy chill of dread he felt now down many a spine. The thought of Alice enduring such tortures made his heart clench with fear for her, but he kept that fear hidden from Callum and his men. It would only please them and could even add to the danger Alice would face without him at her side. Reminding himself of how long Alice had escaped these men, even with the added burden of four children, made swallowing that fear a little easier.
“Ye have been trying to catch and hold fast to Alice for six years,” Gybbon said, “and ye have failed. Why do ye think ye can do so now?” When those words earned him another kick in his side, Gybbon had to fight even harder to hide how much pain it caused him, for he was certain he had felt his rib crack under the blow.
“Because ye are going to tell us where the bitch is.”
“Och, nay, I dinnae think so. She wasnae too pleased with your hospitality the last time ye had her as your guest.”
“She and that loathsome whelp she bred need to die, but how long it takes them to do so isnae my concern. They will be caught and I will take them to the laird.”
“Which laird do ye mean to give your son to?”
“That beast she bore isnae my son! And I am nay fool enough to give ye the laird’s name just so that ye can lay some curse upon his righteous head. Just think on this as ye die, demon. Soon your woman and her wee bastard will be in the hands of your enemy, and I think ye can guess how much she will be enjoying that mon’s hospitality.”
Gybbon watched the man walk back to the fire burning in the center of the clearing, his men shuffling along behind him. There was a confidence behind the man’s words that deeply unsettled Gybbon. Why, after six long years of chasing Alice all over Scotland, did the men believe she would soon be caught? It made no sense.
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