***
Ross, spying through a side window, saw a weeping Aila leave by the back door. He also heard the shocking revelation. He could have laughed or smiled, but the pain was excruciating. His opportunity had reared its head. He quietly slipped away toward the back door, unsheathing his biodag. He’d have to knock her out, and then toss her on a horse and head back to inverness. There he would—
“And what have ye been taught about spying through windows, Ross?” a voice behind him announced.
He turned sharply in shock and Aila whacked him across the face with a branch, shattering his jaw.
***
His first punch caught the old man in his belly, knocking the breath out of him. A lesser man would have crumpled like a shriveled plant to the floor. But Donald was no lesser man. He countered with a hard elbow jab to his opponent’s temple and then plunged the dagger at his midsection.
Cailean ducked, catching only a nick in the forearm from what would have been a fatal stab. He punched the old man in the chest and then smashed an elbow into his neck.
Donald fell to the ground, grimacing in pain. “Ye may kill me, but be assured I have burned the red smoke on yer behalf. Yer brothers whom ye abandoned will hunt ye down like bloodhounds and wipe whatever cursed memory ye seek to create with that woman.”
“Ye did give me a head start on that count,” Cailean retorted coldly. “I have already begun to wipe out yer cursed memory from the face of the Earth. Wherever Donald Mackay be mentioned, there shall be no man or representative standing in yer name!”
The old man cried in rage, flying at his enemy. Cailean easily parried away his lunge and smashed a fist into his face, belly and sent him hurtling backward with an uppercut. He picked up a claymore.
Donald also retrieved his claymore, with a fumbling grasp. “The man whom ye called father after me,” he panted, “was no good man. We together did things in Asia that the basest of criminals would entertain shame for. In Africa, we killed to collect gold. Ye are fighting for a soiled name!”
“And he spent the rest of his life in repentance and penance,” Cailean returned. “The gold that ye speak of, he had pledged to the Church and the welfare of his daughter. But ye – ye have no repentance or remorse in yer soul for all the years of evil and atrocities ye committed. Ye judgement was served long ago.”
Donald swung the claymore savagely at him and the other parried it upward and then slid its point toward the old man’s fingers. It was a quick trick which Cailean executed smoothly. Three fingers and the claymore fell to the ground from the old man’s hand.
As the old man yelled in pain, Cailean unsheathed a dagger and plunged it into his chest in one clean movement, twisted viciously.
The old man’s eyes and mouth widened in shock and pain as he crumpled to the ground. He was dead before his back hit the floor.
Cailean barely regarded the body. He turned and hurried out to find Aila.
***
Three warriors, all from Donald’s camp, survived the skirmish. Bloodied and battered, they started toward the lake house with claymores in their grip. They witnessed from over the distance a woman smash a man across the face with a hefty branch and then repeatedly smash him with the branch as he lay writhing on the ground. They exchanged amused looks.
If Donald, a strategist equal to Cailean, had had an opportunity to speak to his men earlier before he entered the house he would have warned them about the traps that had been crafted close to the threshold of the house. Perhaps, he had not seen an alternate reality in which he would require the help of his men or he had simply avoided them and took for granted the fact his men would see them outrightly.
The leading man stepped on a patch of grass and it yielded in an odd manner. He didn’t have time to contemplate the implications. A heavy blade swung from the rooftop toward them, decapitating the two of the men instantly. The third was lucky. The blade merely swiped off a clump of hair and scalp. He fell to his knees, dropping his claymore and clutching his bleeding skull with both hands. So he was unguarded when Aila came around the corner and ran him through with a halbard.
Cailean burst out of the house at the same moment in time to see her weapon still embedded in the man’s guts. Relief exploded on his face. “Aila!”
She turned, her face mirroring the same sentiment.
“I’m sorry I hid who I was from ye,” he said. “Ye father is the only father I will ever acknowledge as mine and I seek to preserve a name for him alone on this Earth.”
“No,” she said. “Donald is yer real father, and it’s a truth ye cannot escape. But ye renounced his wicked ways and embraced righteousness, even when it turned ye against ye own blood.”
She stepped toward him. “This is why I will love ye.”
He hurried forward to embrace and kiss her. “Will ye marry me, Aila?”
*****
They journeyed from Reay to Aberdeen by coach, pausing at several towns along the way when it was growing dark. They arrived and went to St Machar's Cathedral where they handed over half of the gold that had been unearthed at the lake house. At the entrance to the cathedral were Aberdeen roses growing in full bloom. Tears stung the eyes of Aila as she recalled the last fragrance she had perceived. It had been peace indeed.
There was no home any longer at the lake house, or in Reay or even in Scotland anymore. One morning, it was with great joy that Aila told Cailean of the new signs of life stirring in her.
“We will need a completely new life,” he responded. “We cannot live anywhere that our enemies will be able to reach us.”
“And where would that be, my love?” Aila queried.
“Spain,” he responded. “We will make our way to Spain and then decide on yet another course from thence.”
***
The hacienda they purchased was located close to a lake and surrounded by the woods. Aila had ensured she got her another lake house.
Cailean oversaw his sprawling plantation of apples, pears, oranges and mandarins. The quality of his crops was unmatched in the market and other plantation owners came to seek his advice on their own crops and vegetables.
Aila joined him to town several times a week to and from the market until she was too heavy with child.
When the child was born, a female child, they named her Rebecca after her mother.
THE END
Another bonus story is on the next page.
Bonus Story 12 of 44
The Unbitten
Nicole’s first week in the city confused the hell out of her. She’d spent the weekend unpacking, and on Monday she’d started her new job at the hospital. All pretty routine, until she’d gone for a run after her shift—and she’d been attacked not once, but twice.
The attacks had baffled and terrified her. Each of the dark-shrouded men had appeared out of nowhere, seizing her shoulders and pressing their mouths to her neck. Both times, she’d been unable to cry out because something had stalled the sound in her throat. As heat burned her skin, she remained helpless, fearing a sexual assault or death at the hands of her unseen assailant.
But both men had cried out in pain and spun away, staggering into the night as if she’d dealt them a powerful blow to the midriff. She could only watch with watering eyes as they stumbled into the shadows and vanished from sight. The attacks had taken place six minutes apart; she knew because it had taken her eight minutes to cross the park and she’d been counting her steps to gauge the distance across the tree-rich area in the middle of the city. One hundred and twenty steps into her count, she’d been seized for the first time and held in a grip as firm as iron.
“Goodnight, lady.” The voice, a quiet hiss in her ear, sent chills through her body. It contrasted with the burning sensation in her neck. But even as she’d begun to accept her life was ending, she was hurled aside, to stagger onto the grass beside the path. The wailing man bent double as he made his erratic way into the darkness, leaving Nicole to wonder what the hell had happened.
&
nbsp; Naturally, she fled, wanting to escape the scene as quickly as possible, but she hadn’t reached the far side of the park before she was attacked a second time. She was too shocked to note the peculiar similarities in the attacks until later, although the second assailant whispered ‘Night, night, little lady,’ instead of ‘Goodnight.’ It was only later, in the relative safety of her apartment, that she was able to puzzle over the details.
Why had the two men—she was certain it hadn’t been the same man twice—targeted her? And why had they both been driven away? She’d done nothing to fight them off; she’d barely moved a muscle. Some peculiar paralysis had overcome her body, rendering her completely vulnerable to their attack. And why had both men zeroed in on her neck? She rubbed the skin below her ear. It was still hot and tingling, over an hour later.
Over the next few days, Nicole hadn’t dared venture outside, except to hurry out to work. If it was dark when she headed home, she took a taxi, racing back into her apartment and barricading her door. She was haunted by furtive shadows, peripheral phantasms that hovered nearby, but vanished immediately if she turned to challenge them. The only place she felt truly safe was inside the hospital.
But even that fragile security was shaken when, on her fourth day in the city, when she was sent to the medical records section in the hospital’s basement. In corridors completely devoid of natural light, and illuminated only by sickly fluorescents that ought to have been replaced a decade earlier, her anxiety quickly returned. She clutched her hundred-decibel personal alarm tightly, wishing the hospital had sent a runner instead.
“Interesting. I don’t often receive visitors.” A man stepped out of the shadows ahead and studied her. His hands were jammed deep into his white coat, which partly concealed a crumpled shirt and over-sized pants. Nicole’s grip tightened around the alarm. Her thumb stroked the rubber button on its top edge.
“A silent one, huh?” he continued. “Or does the darkness bother you?”
“I’m here… here for… for the…” Nicole cursed her nerves. She was supposed to be a professional nurse, not some trembling teenager.
“The Bartlett X-rays?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“They’re on my desk.” He indicated his office with a sweep of his hand.
“Oh,” she said. He obviously expected her to step forward, but her feet were frozen in place.
He smiled. “It’s okay, I’ll bring them out. You’re new here, right?”
“Mm-hmm,” Nicole said as the man disappeared into his office. Ten seconds later, he reappeared, holding a large envelope. When he offered it to her, she lifted a pale hand and took hold. But when she tried to retrieve it, he didn’t release his grip.
“There’s no need to fear me, Nicole,” he said softly. “No need at all.” When she raised her gaze to meet his, he smiled gently. “I’m not going to bite you.”
“You’re not going to bite me,” she repeated softly, without knowing why. Her tension melted away; the trembling faded from her hand.
“I’m fascinated by you, Nicole. I would love to know more about you.”
“Love to know more?” she echoed, then frowned. Why was she imitating a parrot? Her eyes widened as the man leaned closer, still gripping his side of the X-ray folder. His scent was warm, earthy with a comforting hint of strawberry. Her body relaxed further, even as tingles of danger filled her mind. Who was this man with the dark, entrancing eyes? Why was he wearing a white coat, but no hospital ID badge?
She managed to form a single word. “Who?” Who are you? What are you doing here?
But he brushed her lips with his fingertip. “Hush, Nicole. Everything is fine. You’re in no danger.” She sensed irony in his phrasing; deceit in his words, but still she was unable to move a muscle. He leaned closer. His breath was hot on her neck. His hand stroked her jaw, tilting her head subtly. The memories of her attack flooded back and she tried to scream, but her throat remained silent as his lips brushed against her skin. Again? she cried mutely. Why is it happening again? But the contact was momentary. He eased back with a sudden jerk, then inhaled deeply, as if he was analyzing her scent.
“What is it about you?” he asked softly. “Why am I still unable to bear your touch?”
I wish I knew. Please let me go.
“Maybe if I ask the right questions, you’ll tell me what I need to know.” His hands cupped her shoulders as he gazed deep into her eyes. She started to fall headlong into those dark, hypnotic orbs, before she caught herself and fought back. He frowned as she struggled mentally against him.
“You resist me. But how is this possible?”
Because I refuse to give in to you, you bully! His hands moved onto her cheeks. He tilted her head and leaned closer. His breath warmed her cheeks as he searched her face. Nicole was acutely aware of her exposed neck. He moved closer still, close enough to kiss her if he chose. For a moment, she feared he might try.
But a deep voice rang out, echoing along the dimly-lit corridor. “Michael! Enough!”
The man straightened instantly and glared at the speaker. “What business is it of yours?”
“It is my business because I have already laid claim to this woman.”
Michael snorted. “You tried to claim her, but she repelled you. I saw you whine and whimper as you fell away.”
“As did you, if I remember correctly.”
Michael shrugged. “So neither of us was successful that night. But now you can see I have her in my power, and you are intruding.”
“Tut, tut.” The other man moved into Nicole’s peripheral vision, wagging a finger. “Our rules are clear. She is not yours, because you have yet to taste her.”
Oh my God! What the hell? Nicole wailed silently.
Michael shrugged. “A technicality, Adam. Nothing more.”
Adam folded his arms. “Then taste her. Claim her as your own—if you can.”
No, please! Let me go!
Michael sighed. “You know I cannot.”
“Then you must allow me to try.”
“No! She is mine. I claim her blood.”
What kind of hell is this? I want to go back to Boston! As Nicole struggled against the compulsion inflicted upon her, Adam laid a hand on Michael’s shoulder.
“You cannot, my brother. Now step aside.”
“Very well. But I do so not because I have surrendered my claim, but because I respect our rules.”
“Good boy.”
“And I’m not your brother.”
“But you are one of us.”
“I am one of us…” Michael conceded. “But you will be no more successful than I.” He moved back, and Adam’s face filled Nicole’s helpless vision. She screamed silently as he leaned in to press his mouth to her neck. But the expected burning sensation never arrived. Instead, Adam straightened up, wearing a deep frown.
“Most intriguing,” he murmured. Once again, Nicole’s chin was seized and her head was turned to face Adam. His dark eyes bored into hers, but she resisted the peculiar lure that lay behind them.
“We should report this,” Michael said.
“Do you really think so?”
“Of course. This is important. A human who can resist us? I’ve lived in this city for… quite some time, and I’ve never seen this happen before.”
Human? He’s not human?
“I’ve heard about it, but not from this side of the country.”
“Oh?”
“There are tales dating back hundreds of years, about humans living in the Boston area who could resist our kind.”
Boston? I’m from Boston! But what does ‘our kind’ mean?
“Really?”
“But they were wiped out, eradicated. None survived the turn of the century—or so we thought.”
“And here’s proof of that error.”
“But I also heard that the one who succeeds in breaking through the barrier gains immeasurable power.”
“Immeasurable?”
“They could b
ecome as powerful as the first Master.”
Michael’s eyebrows rose. “Then we would be free of all compulsion, all servitude to our makers.”
“Exactly. Is that not a prize worth winning?”
“Without doubt. But how does one ‘break through’ her defenses?”
“By charming our way into her life, by gaining her trust and having her lower those same defenses.”
You’ll never charm your way into my life, you creepy bastards!
“Intriguing. We must become her suitors and seduce her?”
“Yes, but without using any of our supernatural gifts, brother.”
Michael frowned. “I’m not your—”
“We face a challenge, brother. The first of us to seduce our way past her gifts wins the prize, and gains power.”
Michael stroked his chin. “But we would be pitted against each other.”
“Very true.”
“Would co-operation not serve us better?”
Adam frowned. “What do you suggest?”
“That whomever succeeds in their seduction persuades the lady to lie with the other before the night ends.”
“You believe such a prize can be shared?”
“You are so certain it cannot?”
Adam frowned. “It is moot. I shall succeed where you cannot.”
“And you are so certain of victory that you would risk losing everything to me?”
“I…”
“We ought to agree on this, brother. Else we might tear out each other’s throats, or harm this unique lady as we fight over her.”
Adam considered the proposal, even as Nicole struggled in vain to remove herself from the ghastly theater. The two men were calmly discussing her future as if she had no say in the matter. If she ever managed to free herself, she’d take the threat of her forcible seduction straight to the police.
“I agree, brother,” Adam said at last. “If only to reduce the risk of harm to this human.” He stroked the helpless Nicole’s cheek.
“And we say nothing of this to our fellows?”
“Agreed. To speak of our plans would bring down a horde of desperate feeders. No, this lady we keep to ourselves.”
Inextinguishable Love: Firefighter and Interracial Romance Page 38
