by Abigail Owen
She had a funny idea that was not a good sign. Was he really, really angry? Again. But he didn’t look angry. His nostrils flared as though he scented something, and he licked his lips. A shudder ran through her. Not fear, something she wasn’t willing to analyze right then. She tried to slither out from under him, but his lower body pushed against her. Something hard—even harder than the rest of him—pressed against her belly through the layers of clothing.
Not good. Hopefully, just a vampire thing.
Except warmth was pooling in the base of her belly. Maybe she’d caught on fire.
She shifted again, and he growled low in his throat. “Don’t move.”
She went instantly still, for one second, and then she was pushing and shoving and trying to wriggle out from under him, and he wasn’t moving at all, just lying there. An immovable object. Finally, she gave up and lay still, breathing hard.
He closed his eyes, his hips pressing the length of his erection against her, and then his weight was gone, and she was free. She should get up and run or something. Instead, she lay staring up at the sky. After a minute, she rolled her head so she could look at Lachlan. He lay beside her, on his back, eyes still closed. As if sensing her focus, he blinked and sat up.
She did the same.
“You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to eat you.”
“I’m not worried.” And it was true. In a weird way she trusted him. He would keep her safe. Because Darius had asked him to. And Darius was his sire. She knew that much about vampires.
“And I’m not going to rape you.”
“It never even occurred to me.”
Hah. Liar. Seduce her maybe. Not that she was in any way seducible.
“You have a very bad effect on me,” he said.
She did? “I do?”
“Whenever I am near you, I have this urge to fuck you and feed from you. Preferably at the same time.”
The words were spoken totally without emotion and for a moment, they didn’t quite make sense. Then heat washed through her, pooling in her breasts and belly. Which was totally unacceptable. And unprecedented. She was still trying to formulate a response, when he continued, “It’s inconvenient. But that’s all it is. A minor inconvenience. And you need not be worried in my presence. I am in control.”
“Bully, for you,” she muttered under her breath. So, he wanted to fuck her and feed from her, but not that much. She was just an inconvenience. But then hadn’t her sister said the same. Must be true.
She sniffed.
Time to get out of here. It was Christmas Eve, maybe there would be something good on the TV. Take her mind off the fact that she was all alone, had no presents, and no one wanted her. And Lachlan thought she was inconvenient.
Though he did want to fuck her.
Don’t even think about it.
She pushed herself to her feet and stood for a minute, taking stock. But there was no real damage. Only her pride. Inconvenient? Beside her, Lachlan was also on his feet. His long leather coat was open, and she couldn’t resist a quick glance down. She couldn’t see anything interesting. She raised her gaze to find him watching her through narrowed eyes. But at least the red thing seemed to have gone, and they were back to a pure, clear green. Beautiful eyes.
In fact, while she was loath to admit it, he was beautiful all over. All long and lean. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail, showing off high cheekbones and firm lips, a big bony nose. He looked young…maybe not much more than her own age. Though she knew that he was hundreds of years old; he must have been young when he was changed.
“You’re staring,” he murmured.
She sniffed and turned away. Beautiful is as beautiful does.
The car was nothing but a smoldering pile of metal, and a shiver ran through her. She could have died. If he hadn’t pulled her out, she would have died. She wasn’t ready to die. Then again, she wouldn’t have even been in the car if he hadn’t come after her. It was his fault.
“You should have let me drive,” she said.
He snorted and moved past her. After circling the car slowly, he walked back to the road and crouched down, examining something on the ground. “Look at this,” he said. “A stinger.”
She moved forward and hunkered down. A strip of metal, with spikes at intervals, was laid across the road. “That’s why we crashed?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm. So someone wants you dead? Why am I not surprised?”
“I’m already dead. It would have been an…”
“Inconvenience?” she suggested. “You have a lot of those in your life, don’t you? Poor thing. It must be hard.”
He ignored her comment. “You, on the other hand, would have been very dead. Had I not saved you. So maybe this”—he waved a hand at the road and the spikes and the burned out car—“was meant for you.”
She frowned. “Why would anyone want me dead?”
He raised an eyebrow, folded his arms across his chest, but didn’t answer.
“Hah.” She might have been dumped by a lot of people in her short life, but she didn’t think anyone actually hated her enough to try and kill her. She was likable. People always liked her. Except for Lachlan.
“Don’t move,” he said, his gaze fixed on something behind her.
God, he was always giving orders. She turned around, peered into the trees. At first she couldn’t see anything. Then something shifted in the shadows. Black on black. Fear unfurled in her stomach. She stared harder and made out eyes glowing in the darkness. A huge black wolf separated from the shadows. All round them, the forest moved. She swallowed as her mouth flooded with saliva. “What the—”
Lachlan grabbed her hand. “Run!”
5
Lachlan’s fingers tightened around her small hand and, ignoring her squeak of alarm, he hauled her around and ran.
The wolves were closing in, forming a trap, and he hurled himself forward, dragging Lola behind him. He kept to the road. Out in the open he could move faster than the wolves. In the trees, he would have no chance.
The wolves made no sound as they raced after him, but he could sense them, feel their intent bearing down on him.
So the trap had been for him. And he was an idiot. He should have been on his guard. Except he’d been distracted.
The witch was a weakness. And she was slowing him down. Maybe he should let her go. But he couldn’t leave her.
He’d promised Darius he would keep her safe. That was why. The only reason. Nothing to do with the fact that he couldn’t bear the thought of what a pack of werewolves would do to her.
Now he could hear the panting of their breaths. Without slowing, he hauled her over his shoulder and ran faster. Alone, he would have turned and fought. But she was vulnerable. Her small hands clutched at his back, and he held her tighter. And ran.
The snow was still falling, a curtain of white.
If they ever got back to the castle, she was going straight in that dungeon. Then he was going back out, and he was hunting down the wolves. He’d feast on their blood. Maybe there would be a few left alive to join the Council at the end of the night. Right now he didn’t give a—
Something slammed into him from the side, and they crashed to the ground. He was up in a second. Shoving Lola behind him, he drew a pistol in each hand. The night was dark, but he could sense them all around, smell their fetid breath. They circled, fluid, so he couldn’t tell one from the other. So many. Too many.
It was him they wanted. Maybe he could negotiate a safe passage for her. His life for hers. He shot above their heads as a warning and to let them know he was armed. He’d take as many with him as he could. But if there was any way to save her, he would do it.
Suddenly, they stopped their circling and sat on their haunches as though waiting. But for what? Behind him, Lola gripped onto his coat and pulled herself to her feet, pressing up against him, her breathing fast and ragged. “Are we going to die?” she asked.
“Hopefully not.” He t
hought for a moment, and right now, he wasn’t too proud to ask for help. “You’re a witch. Can’t you do some sort of spell?” He had no clue what witches did. They were shrouded in mystery. Though it was believed they possessed powerful magic.
“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know any spells. I haven’t actually learned any yet.”
Great.
He looked around, searching for anything that might give them an advantage, a little cover. A few feet away, a huge boulder stood by the edge of the road. Holding the pistols in front of him, he backed up slowly. The wolves behind him stayed put. He fired a couple of shots over their heads, and they parted. At least Lola would have some protection and they wouldn’t be able to come at her from behind.
A ripple ran through the waiting wolves, and directly in front of him, they parted. A man strode through. All in black, a mask covering half his face, though Lachlan recognized him from the meeting earlier. Now he also wore a sword at his back, the jeweled hilt visible above his left shoulder.
He stopped a couple of feet away. “You care for the wee lassie?” He waved a hand in Lola’s direction. “Drop the guns, and we’ll let her live.”
Lola’s fingers tightened on his coat.
“Shoot me,” the man continued, “and they’ll rip her to pieces before your eyes. There are too many of us.”
The wolves inched closer. The circle around them was three deep. He hadn’t realized the pack was so big. Would he have been more careful if he’d known? Probably not. Perhaps Sean was right, and he had a death wish. If it was only himself, he would have fought. But he couldn’t protect her against so many.
He lowered his arms and let the pistols fall to the snow.
The man smiled. “Sensible.”
“Why?” Lachlan asked.
He shrugged. “Like all your kind, you underestimate us. Maybe we have no wish to join your Council.”
“You could have just said no.”
“But this is so much more fun.”
The man was a dick. “You said you’d let her go.”
“Actually, I said we would let her live.” He smiled. “Not really the same thing.”
Lachlan gritted his teeth. “What do you want? I presume if you wanted us dead then we wouldn’t be having this conversation. So get the fuck on with it.”
The man studied him, head cocked to one side. “You know, you really don’t sound like you come from here at all. Tell me, was it easy to turn your back on your home, your friends, your family?”
What the hell was he going on about? “I have no friends and no family. They’re all dead.”
“Convenient for you.”
“What do you want?”
“Trey here”—he waved a hand at a golden wolf who sat close by—“has taken a liking to your little friend. I promised him he could have her.”
The golden wolf sat back on its haunches, a big happy grin on its goofy face.
Lachlan would kill the fucker if he got the chance.
The man in black leaned closer. “After I’ve had my fill, of course. New wolves are always offered to the alpha.”
Rage filled him. His vision blurred to crimson and his fangs elongated. Fucker better not touch her.
“Lachlan, you’re scaring me.”
Her soft voice brought him back from the edge. He forced his rage down. Or she would die.
Shaking off her hold, he stepped forward. “You think I care about her, but you’re wrong. She was sent here for safety. I’m her protector—nothing more. She’s the sister-in-law of the second-in-command of the Council. Harm her, and they will destroy you.”
“Really?” His eyes flicked to where Lola stood at his side. So small. Lachlan glanced down at her. Her face was pale, and that hurt look was back in her eyes. He had a sudden urge to tell her he hadn’t meant it. That he did care. But it wasn’t true. Was it?
“So if I wanted an insurance policy to ensure the Council won’t destroy us, she would be perfect.” He grinned beneath the mask. “Come here, wee bonnie lassie. I won’t say this isn’t going to hurt, but it will hurt more if you fight it. Come here, Sassenach.”
She tugged on Lachlan’s coat. “I don’t want to be a werewolf. Now would be the time to do some super-cool vampire shit.”
There was no cool vampire shit that would get them both out of there alive. Maybe he should let them change her. At least she would live.
“Of course, there’s a risk she won’t survive. Not everyone does. But she looks strong enough, if a little scrawny. We’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed.”
The man was playing with him. For some reason this was personal. And that was something he was going to have to think about, because he hadn’t been in Scotland for nearly three hundred years, so how the hell had he managed to piss off the locals?
But it would have to wait. Because the news that Lola might not survive a werewolf bite, changed everything. Lachlan looked down at her, and she gave him a wobbly smile. He wanted to say something meaningful—she was too young to die—but had no clue what. “Stay behind me,” he said, and she gave a small nod.
They’d die together.
But he’d take out a few stinking werewolves before he went.
The wolves were inching closer. One leaped for him, and he moved fast, ripping out the animal’s throat so it crashed to the ground at his feet. Another came, and he whirled, kicking out so it flew through the air. He glanced over his shoulder. Behind him, Lola crouched against the boulder, eyes wide. Two came at him, and he put her from his mind, concentrated on staying alive, because if he went down, then she was finished. He lost track of time, whirling, kicking, slicing. He knew he’d been injured but didn’t feel the pain. His nostrils filled with the sweet metallic scent of blood, and the darkness rose.
There was a lull. No more coming. He stood still, breathing hard, blood dripping from his shoulder where teeth had savaged him. The man in black approached. He drew the sword from the sheath at his back, and it glinted in the dim light.
“Do you recognize the blade?” he asked.
Something flickered at the edges of Lachlan’s mind, but he shook his head.
“Maybe this will refresh your memory.” He swung the sword up, holding it poised, a small smile on his lips.
This was it. Lachlan’s muscles tensed, and he made to leap for the man.
A word screamed out behind him.
Lola.
Even as he turned, the air around him shimmered and pulsed.
In front of him the man went still.
Then the whole world stopped.
6
What in the Goddess’ name had she done?
The word had come out of nowhere. Hadn’t it?
One second she’d been staring in horror as the huge sword had swung toward Lachlan. He was going to lose his head. He’d die for real. And she’d be turned into a werewolf.
Not happening!
A sense of powerlessness had risen inside her, quickly overtaken by rage. The next second she’d been screaming. A word. In a language she didn’t recognize or understand.
Then the world had stopped.
Really stopped.
All around them the wolves were frozen in place. Two, who had been in mid leap, were actually suspended in the air. The rest were set in whatever position they’d been in when she’d spoken the word or spell or whatever it was. Snarling, claws outstretched, mouths gaping. Her blonde “friend” lay on the floor, blood streaming from a vicious wound in his shoulder. She tried to feel sorry, but he’d been spying on her. Setting her up. He wanted to turn her into a werewolf.
Her sister Regan was a werewolf. As far as Lola had seen, it hadn’t been an improvement. Though maybe a pack would be nice. Except this one was obviously full of assholes, so maybe not.
Even the snow was unmoving. Reaching out, she touched her fingertip to a flake in front of her nose. It moved out of the way.
Lola pushed herself to her feet and stumbled to where the man in the mask st
ood in front of Lachlan, sword raised. She prodded him with her finger. No response.
“What the hell just happened?”
She almost jumped out of her skin as Lachlan spoke from behind her. She whirled around. “You’re not…” She waved a hand at the others, frozen in place.
“Obviously not.”
One arm was clenched at his side, blood dripping to the white snow. She’d never seen anything like him fighting. He’d moved so fast, spinning and kicking, like a dancer, so graceful. But he’d clearly taken a lot of damage. He swayed slightly as though in an invisible wind.
She stepped closer.
He flinched and moved back out of her reach as though he didn’t want her to touch him. His expression was…wary. “You said you couldn’t do magic?”
“I shouldn’t be able to.” It was slowly dawning on her that she had somehow dredged up a word of power. She had used the Earth magic. “Oh, this is so bad,” she muttered. “So very, very bad.”
What had she done? And what would the price be? Because there was always a price for using the Earth magic. Whether you did it by accident or design—it didn’t matter—you had to pay.
But they were alive. For now. Concentrate on that. “We have to get away from here,” she said. “I don’t know how long they’ll be…” She searched for a word, but had no clue what they were, what she had done. “Out. They could come around at any moment. And you don’t look too good.” In fact, he looked terrible. If the wolves awoke, she didn’t hold out much hope of their chances.
He appeared dazed, his gaze fixed on the man in the mask, and she snapped her fingers under his nose. “Lachlan. We have to move. We have to go.”
A shudder ran through him, and his eyes cleared. Thank God. He was back in the land of the living. Or maybe not. But at least he was paying attention. He nodded, but then just stood there. Perhaps delayed reaction and he’d frozen as well? She so did not need this.
