MIDNIGHT CAPTIVE: Book 2 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles (14 page)

Davina chuckled. “Nigh on that! They insisted on hosting these festivities with or without my assistance, and I could not, in good conscience, put the entire chore upon their shoulders.”

Davina’s handmaid, Elizabyth, chuckled and whispered in Davina’s ear.

Cailin’s mother nodded. Looking around as if to see if any but their group was listening, she leaned in conspiratorially. “Truth be told, I did not trust the Gypsy cuisine to be grand enough for such a celebration for my sweet Cailin and dashing James.” James chortled and Cailin blushed with protests, but Davina waved her off. “Though baked hedgehog is a tasty venture for the tongue—”

Most present expressed groans of disapproval.

“You see! I urge you to try it! It’s really very tasty.” More groans and Davina rolled her eyes heavenward. “In any manner, as you all have proved, I didn’t think everyone would be so inclined to such an adventure for the palate. And in all honesty, the Gypsies were more centered on the events and decorations. They were more than accepting of our hospitality to provide the feast for the occasion.” Cailin’s mother considered the train of servants and pursed her lips. “Perhaps I did get a bit extreme?”

Trailing behind the small group and chuckling at Davina’s assessment of her involvement, Ranald and Will conversed with each other and the three other armed escorts, chatting about the anticipated festivities.

Cailin’s rising anticipation, however, traveled more along the vein of fear and uncertainty. Could she go through with her plan? She barely had the chance to strap a silver-plated dagger to her thigh and her small sleeve sheath to her forearm. The blades she usually fastened to her hips were left in her room at Margeret’s insistence. Protesting otherwise might have raised some suspicions and Cailin reasoned Jasper and Alistair would most assuredly confiscate them anyway. Armed only with these small weapons, she would indeed be at their mercy and very naked without her usual personal protection. What would she do if they found them? What would she do when she finally faced Angus?

Her desire to see through her original plan and her determination to die than rather continue to live in fear, forced the apprehensions out of her mind. It was now or never, so she might as well enjoy the evening while she had the chance. She fingered the amulet tucked into her bodice for courage.

James wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hugged her close. “What is that furrow upon thy lovely brow?” His hot breath against her ear sent shivers of desire through her body.

She snaked her arm about his waist and held tight. “These shoes are surely to be the death of me,” she lied.

He chuckled. “I will always be here to catch you if you fall.”

She gazed up into his adoring eyes and swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “I have no doubts, my love.”

Rows of trestle tables—with a head table at the forefront of the arrangement—were the focal point of the Gypsy camp. From dove, chicken and duck, to wild boar, veal and lamb, the aroma of meats and mounds of vegetables permeated the air. The Gypsies hadn’t eaten this well since Broderick and Davina shared their wedding feast with Rosselyn and Nicabar during their dual wedding…or so were the comments floating around the mixed company. Wine and ale flowed freely, trenchers piled with food filled everyone’s bellies, and laughter echoed about the surrounding forest throughout the afternoon.

James stood and raised his goblet above his head, garnering the attention of the gathered guests. When the throng quieted, he nodded his thanks. “A well-deserved cheer and a rousing
huzzah
to Clan MacDougal!” Frivolity ensued, thundering through his chest, and he nodded to his future mother-in-law on the seat to his left. After the crowd indulged a moment longer, he waved for their silence. “Broderick and Davina have given me more than any man deserves, and more than just taking me into their fold. They secured my future with a ship to command, and I look forward to her christening once Broderick has returned. But more importantly…” He gazed down at the woman seated to his right and lost himself for a moment in her cerulean eyes. Grasping Cailin’s hand, he encouraged her to stand at his side. “More importantly,” he repeated, “the most beautiful woman in all the world to claim as my own.” He kissed her knuckles and the cheers and encouragement rose to a deafening level.

James groaned when his cock twitched in response to the taste of her skin. Cailin’s brow creased and, what he presumed was worry, glassed her eyes. He caressed her cheek and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “What is it, Mouse?”

She shook her head and touched her lips to his cheek. “All is well,” she said, but even through the noise, he thought he heard her voice crack.

The guests pounded in unison on the tabletops, urging the couple to kiss. Laughing at the boisterous crowd, James swept Cailin into his embrace and fused his mouth shamefully to hers in a kiss that made him glad he wore his cod piece. His heart pounded at the warmth of her body pressed against his.

Margeret pounded uselessly on his back. He released his hold on Cailin only when he was good and ready. As far as he was concerned, he’d branded her as his and no one would interfere with his attentions on her.

Though Cailin’s skin glowed pink with embarrassment, passion sparkled in her eyes. Aye, the MacDougals may be disappointed with a post celebration of their union. He could not wait much longer for the betrothal ceremony at the end of the month, let alone their wedding in the winter.

Eventually the feast was cleared. Both musicians from the neighboring town of Edinburgh and the Gypsies raised instruments to provide trilling music to accompany the stomping and dancing that ensued. A grand circle formed where James and Cailin were thrown into the center and goaded to dance. James waved his arms at Cailin, getting his hands ready to perform a little routine they used to do in their youth.

Cailin gasped and put her hands over her mouth, shaking her head vigorously.

“Aye!” he yelled and laughed above the cacophony of notes and cheers. “Come, Mouse! Do it for me!”

She pursed her lips, repressing a grin, but heaved a dramatic sigh and relented. She stepped forward with obvious reluctance, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

James chuckled and positioned his hands again. Cailin mirrored his stance, placing her palms against his. Stomping his foot to start their timing, he counted to three and they began. Laughter poured out of Cailin’s mouth as they ran through a series of claps and elbow jabs, knee slapping and turns, performing the silly dance from their childhood.

Davina covered her face, guffawing, thoroughly amused with their antics. The Gypsies roared their approval, getting louder as the couple repeated the cycle of rehearsed movements. The musicians increased the tempo of the music, daring James and Cailin to keep up with the timing, faster and faster until one of her shoes slipped off and she tumbled into James’s arms. The crowd erupted into applause, swarming around the panting pair, and lifted them onto their shoulders.

A scream pierced the festivities and the noise level dropped to near silence while the betrothed pair was placed on their feet once again. Cailin donned her shoe and her heart lurched in her chest.
The diversion.

“Fire!” someone hollered from east side of the encampment. A clamor rose as people scattered and shouted orders, organizing efforts to put out the flames reaching for the darkening sky. Black smoke billowed as a tent became engulfed. Men stepped forward with blankets, beating back the inferno in an attempt to get the blaze under control. Women carried more blankets to aid the battle.

Cailin whirled as James ran to help, grabbing a blanket from the arms of her mother. Training her eyes around the crowd, Cailin searched for her captors.

“Over here!” someone screamed from the west side of the camp. “Another fire!”

Small buckets were dunked into rain barrels, gathering water to throw onto both fires. People ran in various directions, doing what they could to save the encampment from being reduced to black cinders.

And at the edge of the panic and chaos, Jasper leered.

Heart thundering in her chest, Cailin twirled and ran into a tent to grab some blankets. She emerged and handed them to the nearest person running by. She ducked back into the tent and pulled out another blanket, handing it over. This time when she disappeared into the tent, she crawled under the back flap, popping up between the tent and a caravan and out of the general flow of bodies. Panting with anticipation, she closed her eyes and tried to steady herself.
I can’t do this!
Fear swarmed over her like a dark wave and sucked her under its suffocating influence.

Cailin gasped as a firm hand gripped her arm.

“What are you doing back here?” Margeret screeched.

“I’m looking for more blankets!” Cailin hissed.

“Come with me now, child!” Her handmaid’s face contorted with fear. “There’s no doubt something’s amiss. Let us get you back to the castle.”

Before they could take another step, an acrid musty odor assaulted Cailin’s nose as a sack went over her head…and all went black.

Chapter Six

At least two hours after the chaos began, James grabbed the bucket handed to him and threw the water on the last struggling bit of flames. They hissed and died.
Thank God it rained again last night.
“Is everyone well?” he asked, twirling around and scanning the crowd. “Did anyone get hurt?”

Many heads shook, indicating the guests were all right as they looked around to assess the aftermath.

“Cailin!” James maneuvered through the crowd of guests and Gypsies, not finding her among them. “Cailin!”

Panic-stricken, his future mother-in-law dashed between people. “
Cailin! Cailin!
” Davina’s worry-laced calls turned to wails of despair. She fell to her knees in the mud, sobbing, repeatedly cursing Campbell.

Rosselyn rushed to her sister’s side and enveloped her in her arms. “Margeret is nowhere about either. Perhaps she took Cailin back to the castle.”

“Search the area!” James ordered. “Look for tracks! Spread out in all directions!”

Many did as he instructed, fanning out and searching the grounds.

“I need a horse! I’ll check the castle.” He pointed at Nicabar, who waved for him to follow. Grabbing the reins of a mount tied to a caravan, Nicabar threw the leather straps at James. He hoisted himself onto the back of the protesting animal and charged out of the camp and up the road to the castle.

“Open the gate!” The large oaken doors swung inward and he navigated to the stables. “Fife! Get my horse ready. Now!”

The old stable master nodded as James leapt from the Gypsy mount and dashed in through the kitchen entrance. Kitchen maids screeched and he held his palms out. “Cailin! Is she here?”

Wide-eyed, they shook their heads and he cursed. Taking the stairs three at a time, he bolted to his bedchamber and grabbed his saddlebags, stuffing anything inside he thought would be useful to help recover Cailin—a blanket, some drying cloths and salve for wounds which he kept in his satchel.

Hastening to her chamber, still hoping to see her safe with Margeret, his heart dropped when he entered the empty room. He searched her wardrobe for some practical shoes, grabbed a chemise and working gown before heading back downstairs.

Surely Fife would have his horse readied by now. James skidded to a stop in the kitchen, wrapped a few dried meats, pieces of fruit and a loaf of bread into a cloth and shoved the bundle into his bags. He snatched a bladder of water on the way out the door.

“Fife!” He sprinted across the courtyard.

“Aye, lad!” Fife handed James the reins once he secured the saddlebags.

“Give me those two bottles of lamp oil there!”

Fife tossed the glass bottles to James, who wedged them into the side of his saddlebags. Mounting his gelding, he kicked its side and galloped through the front gate.

James yanked on the reins when he bounded into the camp. Nicabar approached, clutching a scrap of parchment in his hands. “This had a dagger stuck through it on a caravan.” He handed it to James as Davina ran forward.

“Still no sign of Margeret, James.” Tears stained her pleading face. “They may have snatched her thinking she was me.”

James had also mistaken Maggie for Davina at a glance. He read the note aloud. “Glen Morin.”

“’Tis nothing else?” Davina grabbed the note. “Glen Morin?”

“Does it mean anything to you?”

She shook her head, her brow furrowing even more and tears welling anew in her eyes. “Oh, saints help us, this message is for Broderick alone. Somehow they knew he was gone.”

Guilt crept into James’s soul. He had told his father as much before he knew Alistair was bent on revenge. He was somehow behind this. James clenched his jaw so hard it ached.

“James!” Rosselyn waved frantically from down the road to the north. “Here!”

With a quick kick to his mount, he approached Davina’s sister, a crowd of people drawing up behind him.

“Look! This must be Cailin’s!” She ran forward and handed him a green, glass-beaded slipper.

“Aye, ’tis hers! Where did you get it?”

Grabbing her skirts, she ran forward. “Here,” she panted, pointing to the ground. “I found it here.”