by Nina Bangs
"So exactly how old and how evil are you?" She swallowed hard, as though forcing the words from her mouth had taken much effort.
He would tell her as much of the truth as he wished her to know. "I was born in the year one thousand two hundred fifty."
"Twelve fifty?" She winced as though the number was a physical blow. "That makes you…"
"Aye. I am five hundred thirty-five years old." Darach forged on before she could think too long about his age. "I was born human, as are all of my race. I changed when I reached thirty years."
"Changed?" He noted that her hands had stopped shaking. "You make it sound like part of the maturing process. I thought a vampire jumped on you, bit you, and then you became a vampire."
It was Darach's turn to wince at her simple view of his clan. "If ye judge all who need blood to survive and shun the light as one race, ye would be wrong. All who belong to my clan change when they become fully adult. It is a change we celebrate with great joy."
He felt more of her tension uncoil as she unclenched her hands. "Why?"
Darach shifted his gaze to the blazing hearth, where each leap and dying of a flame mirrored the extremes of his life. "Who would not choose to be immortal?
Who would not choose heightened senses that make even the smallest pleasure a wondrous experience?" He turned his attention back to Blythe and held her gaze. "Who would not choose the power?"
"The power." Blythe's expression said that she would know more about his power later. "What happens when you change?" She bit her lip before asking her last question. "Are you… dead?"
Darach leaned closer, but she did not move away. He silently applauded her bravery. A smile touched his lips. "Look at me, lass. Do I look dead?"
Her eyes widened, and panic showed in them as he leaned even closer. She shook her head.
He should be reassuring her, speaking lies that would soothe her fears, but it seemed a demon drove him. "Touch me, Blythe. Feel the warmth of my flesh." Darach thought she would refuse. She surprised him.
She laid her hand on his bare thigh, and at least one part of his body rose to proclaim, "I live."
Blythe smiled weakly. "You've wanted me to do that from the first moment I entered the room. You're not very subtle, MacKenzie." Her smile widened, and she seemed to gain strength from it. "You're right. Nothing cold, clammy, or undead here."
If she left her hand on his thigh much longer, she would gain further proof of how truly alive he was. "I am not dead, only changed. I gave up certain human characteristics, but gained much more." He listened to his heartbeat and gloried in the one human characteristic he had won back. Soon he would have another.
She nodded her understanding. "Sort of like a computer upgrade."
"Computer?" What was this thing called a computer? She was as strange to his world as he was to hers. He looked forward with pleasure to finding out more about all that touched her.
She shook her head. "Never mind." Blythe moved her hand from his thigh, and he mourned the loss. "I want to know everything about you, but I think I've reached my shock limit for right now. After a good night's sleep I'll be ready for the rest."
He nodded. The rest. Would she be ready to know what he had been before he was Darach MacKenzie? Would she be ready to know about those he hunted and those who hunted him? And would she be ready to accept that only a sensual solution might unlock his emotions?
"Aye. Sleep well, lass." He offered her what he hoped looked like an open and boyish smile.
The flare of alarm in her eyes suggested that his smile had been less than open and boyish. "Why have you told me so much about yourself? Should I be afraid of you? I never got to the evil-vampire part of my questioning."
"I want something from ye." He smiled as she placed a protective hand to her neck. "No, not that. Although the thought is tempting."
He could not deny the truth of his words. She tempted him in every way. "I was but joking. I would have ye watch Ganymede while I sleep during the daylight hours. Ye need understand that Ganymede is a danger to ye. More so because he wears a friendly mask. He wishes to destroy me, and I may be the only one who can protect ye from him."
"And who will protect me from you, Darach MacKenzie?"
Her question hung between them, a wall that would forever separate them. She would never trust him fully, never understand that he could not harm her without destroying himself. He accepted her distrust and simply shrugged.
Darach could sense her weighing the threat he posed against the thing that she wanted from him. He could enter her mind, but he chose to wait until she told him herself.
Her sigh indicated she had made her decision. "All right, here's the deal. I'll keep an eye on Ganymede if you'll do something for me."
He waited, his gaze never wavering from her face.
"I don't have to be a galactic wizard to know there's a lot you haven't told me about yourself. You didn't tell me much about your family, and you keep avoiding letting me in on the evil part of your nature." She tapped her finger on her knee. "So I've concluded that you're not a happy… vampire. Despite what you say, being a vampire has to be the pits. You can't eat solid food. You have to drink blood to survive. You can't go out into the sunlight. You have to avoid wooden stakes, garlic, crosses, and holy water. And you can't see your reflection in a mirror."
She held up her hand as he opened his mouth to respond. "Don't interrupt. I'm on a roll. If you can't see your reflection, how do you know what you look like when you go out? Your hair could be standing on end, or you could have spinach between your teeth." She frowned. "No, I guess the spinach thing would never happen."
"Cease, and tell me what ye want." She amused him mightily, but the night and his increasing need called to him. If he stayed much longer, he would be tempted to still her warm lips with his mouth. From there he could easily move to the smooth flesh of her neck. He had survived over five hundred years because he had learned how to deny himself.
"You're right." She drew in a deep breath. "I want you to at least give me a shot at your emotions. I figure that you've had five hundred years to pile up a lot of unhappiness."
"Mayhap ye will touch my emotions." He shrugged. She would never touch his feelings, other than those that were sexual. "But ye will find little sadness."
Her gaze narrowed. "I don't believe you. No one could be happy as a vampire." Her challenge was clear.
"Ye may try to make me happy another day." He glanced at the door. His hunger grew with each moment. "I must leave ye."
Her expression said she knew why he must leave and did not approve. He rose from her bed and walked to the door. She remained sitting on the bed staring at him. He had given her much to think on tonight.
He stepped out into the darkness and closed the door on her silent conjectures. Leaning against the closed door, he felt the change, the smooth slide of fangs preparing him for the night, for the hunt.
He knew not the meaning of "yuck," but it must be a vile thing. If Blythe were to open the door now, would she scream "Yuck!" and slam the door shut on the horror of him?
Darach knew what he looked like in his human form because he had given a man gold to paint his likeness, but he knew nothing of what he was when he hunted. He must know. Because Blythe thinks ye would be yuck? There was no end to his foolishness tonight, but he knew he would use the power he had been hoarding for over a hundred years to fashion his reflection in a mirror.
As he swept down the winding stairs on a sudden gust of spiraling wind, he knew that those who hunted him would not find him tonight. They needed to gather in greater numbers before they could harm him. He would be gone before that happened. And Ganymede? He knew not what a cosmic troublemaker was, but he recognized power almost as strong as his own. Almost. Ganymede could not best him.
Once outside, he paused to rid his mind of those who dwelled in his castle. He stared out at the dark waters of the loch surrounding the small island on which the castle stood, then shifted his attention
to the stone footbridge that connected the island to the mainland. He turned toward the stable. A swift gallop would clear his thoughts. Tonight he would hunt with Arnora.
A short time later, he rode Arnora across the footbridge. His last thought? What exactly was a Buffy?
* * *
Chapter Three
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Blythe felt really cranky. She'd spent the second day of her working vacation sneaking around after Ganymede and avoiding Textron with his demands for hourly updates on her progress. She also had to add Clara Thomas, the Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan, to her growing list of people to avoid. Clara was fixated on meeting Darach, her first real-life vampire. Blythe wasn't in the mood to wrestle a wooden stake from Clara's determined hands as the woman made her move to become a vampire-slayer-in-training.
Over breakfast, Clara confided that vampires had to sink their teeth into your neck to fully enjoy the sexual experience. This was not a tidbit of vampire folklore that Blythe needed to hear with her morning tea. And where was her coffee? Tea didn't do it for her when she had to face a day of spying on Ganymede-the-elusive.
Blythe sighed as she stared at her dinner, another unique offering of unidentifiable authentic cuisine. But even the thought of imminent food poisoning couldn't distract her from worrying about how she was going to make Darach happy while dodging his powerful sensual pull.
The sun had set, and soon she'd be able to talk to Darach. She'd had a whole day to try to come to terms with what he said he was. Did she believe that he was a vampire? Blythe was leaning toward a yes on that. How could she deny the possibility of vampires existing when she was sitting at dinner listening to a cosmic troublemaker in cat form whine about the ghosts of a Bonny and Charley Prince?
"Those ghosts are real pieces of work. It took me five hours to find them, and when I finally tracked them down, do you know what they were doing?"
Blythe cast wary glances at Sparkle Stardust, who'd planted herself next to Blythe's chair and settled in for some serious dinner chatter.
'Wo, don't answer. I'll tell you what they were doing. They were having sex on the battlements. A couple of cheap exhibitionists. Sure, I admire their commitment to the sensual lifestyle, but you'd think after falling from the castle once, they'd have learned to keep their action in the bedroom." She paused for thought. "Of course, since they didn't technically die until 1967, you could argue that they haven't learned any lesson at all yet. Hmm. I hadn't considered the possibility that this could cause problems with the future. What if they change something now so that they don't fall from the castle in 1967? What if they live on to litter the universe with their offspring? My eyes are crossing. Time travel drives me nuts." Sparkle remained quiet for the second necessary to think about the vagaries of time travel. "Anyway, they agreed to start work tonight. Nothing really scary, just enough haunting to add ambiance to the old pile of rock. Throw me down a piece of meat."
Blythe offered a piece of her meat in the hope that the chewing process would shut Sparkle up for a few minutes.
"You shouldn't feed pets from the table. It spoils them."
The woman next to her interrupted Blythe's attempt to focus on the sex habits of vampires and how she would approach making one happy.
"Bitch." The pet in question offered her opinion as she swallowed Blythe's offering and waited for more.
"I'm Sandy Blake." The woman smiled at Blythe. "From 2216." She watched Blythe offer another piece of meat to Sparkle. "I noticed that great-looking man you were with last night."
Sparkle burped daintily, then padded back to Ganymede, who was expounding on the sexual prowess of Highlanders. He offered the opinion that it was something in the air, so everyone should breathe deeply, then have sensational sex. Ganymede wasn't subtle.
"Your man could use my product." Sandy leaned closer.
"Product?" Blythe finally turned her full attention to what Sandy was saying.
Sandy's smile widened. "Ganymede thinks I'm on vacation, but this is a business trip for me. When I found out we were scheduled to visit ancient Scotland, I immediately saw the possibilities. I'm a visionary, always searching out new markets. That's why I'm tops in my sales department."
"What do you sell?" Blythe's attention drifted as she peered around one of Ganymede's new serving staff to note that Sandy's great-looking man had just entered the hall.
"Men's underwear. We offer a full range of body-molding briefs that hug firm round buttocks and cradle even the largest male packages in soft, comfortable fabrics." Sandy's attention had also gravitated to Darach. "For really spectacular male sexual displays, we carry transparent briefs."
Sighing, she returned her gaze to Blythe. "I knew it'd be cold in Scotland, so I brought a lot of our heated products. Unfortunately, the heat cuts down on sperm count, but there're so many of the little sweethearts swimming around that a few less is no big deal. Oh, and just in case, I brought samples of our padded briefs for those who feel cheated by the gods of sexual equipment."
As though unable to help herself, Sandy glanced back to Darach. "Of course, there are some men who would better serve womankind by ignoring our briefs. They were born to hang full, jut hard and long. Their sexual equipment was meant to live life wild and free." Sandy's eyes were glazing over as she fixed Darach with her unblinking stare.
Blythe controlled a snort of disbelief. Any minute now drool would drip from Sandy's gaping lips. Blythe never could understand women who couldn't… Hmm, she seemed to remember something from her study of ancient societies. Highlanders didn't wear anything under their kilts. She firmed her lips. Okay, no drooling, no mental imaging, no eye-glazing. Blythe stuffed a piece of meat into her mouth in the mistaken belief that she couldn't chew and generate erotic scenarios at the same time.
Darach strode to the table and sat down beside her. At the end of the table, Ganymede grew still.
"I don't think Ganymede's happy about you joining us for dinner." That was an understatement. Blythe had to look away from Ganymede's furious amber stare. She didn't think Ecstasy Inc.'s entire Happiness staff could make a dent in the emotional volcano Blythe saw building in Ganymede's eyes.
"His feelings dinna bother me." Darach slanted an amused glance in Ganymede's direction.
Their gazes met and held. Blythe felt the air move, shift, and shimmer with the force of their wills. The tense stares of everyone around her said that the others felt it, too.
The sudden explosion of power between Darach and Ganymede was like a physical blow. Sandy's chair tipped over, carrying her screeching with it. Glasses shattered, and dishes skated across the table, only to tip over the table's edge and crash to the floor. It felt as if the great hall had sucked in its breath at this display of power, leaving no air for anyone to breathe.
Sparkle Stardust crouched close to the floor and screamed in feline terror. Blythe was sure she expressed the feelings of all those at the table who were unable to utter a sound.
Without warning, it was over. Released from the horror of bearing unwilling witness to the power of Ganymede and Darach, five of Ganymede's six guests rose and stumbled from the great hall.
Ganymede stood. His normally ruddy complexion was chalk white. "Now look what you've done. How the hell… I mean, how the heck am I supposed to get them to think about sex when you've scared the crap out of them?" He glared down at a shaking Sparkle. "Fat lot of help you were." He speared Darach with an accusing stare. "You've upset my tummy. I have to go to my room and drink a whole bottle of the pink stuff."
Blythe watched Ganymede totter from the great hall with Sparkle slinking behind him. Blythe turned to Darach. "Well, you cleared the hall nicely." Fine, so she was feeling bitchy, but she didn't know how else to react to what she'd just experienced. Either she attacked or she ran screaming from the room like everyone else.
"Ye stayed." He rewarded her for her courage, or maybe stupidity, with a smile that promised her a sensual reward of untold value for staying.
Blythe
didn't think she'd have the courage to collect her reward. Sex with Darach would most likely kill her. Literally. "You're my job. I had to stay." That wasn't exactly true, but it calmed her common sense, which thought she should go home right now.
" 'Tis a shame I ruined your meal, but Ganymede challenged me. He would see it as weakness if I refused to test his power." Darach didn't look very sad about the whole thing.
"What is it about men and their egos?" Okay, not technically men. Blythe couldn't think about something this deep sitting down. She couldn't think about anything this close to Darach. To encourage deep thinking, she pushed her chair away from the table, then wandered over to the massive wooden doors leading to the courtyard. If she were smart, she'd pull open the doors and run far, far away. She thought about her job. Nope, no running tonight. "Why can't men walk away from stupid chest-pounding challenges?" Hmm. The doors seemed to be vibrating. The wind? Not unless it was a tornado.
"The same way that ye are walking away from Textron's foolish challenge?" His soft laughter assured her that it was foolish as well as useless.
"That's different." It was different because… Okay, give her a minute and she'd think of a reason. But she couldn't pull her thoughts together as she narrowed her gaze on the doors, which were now shaking. What the… She couldn't hear any sounds beyond the door.
She sensed Darach's sudden stillness. Blythe started to back away while the doors shuddered as if from massive blows. There were still no sounds to accompany the attack.
"Return to your room and fasten your door." Darach's tone allowed for no disobedience.
"I don't—" She backed further from the door.
"Dinna argue with me, woman." His command sounded urgent, and she could hear him striding toward her. "I didna come down to challenge Ganymede. There is something without I must destroy."
Blythe decided that Darach could deal alone with whatever was outside, because she was outta here. But before she could turn and run, the doors burst open.
