MIDNIGHT CAPTIVE: Book 2 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles (26 page)

“If you stop now,” she panted, “I shall never speak to you again.”

James’s delicious rumble of laughter sent more heat to her sex. The slow movement was no longer enough. Cailin rocked faster and James matched her pace. He removed his hand from her bud and, before she could complain, he replaced it with the side of his shaft. His hand still gripped her from behind, his one finger still penetrating her as she slid against his thick rod laying along his belly. With a swift wave of sweet ecstasy, Cailin shuddered and cried out her release, her eyes wide with amazement as the most incredulous pleasure rushed through her limbs.

“Sweet heavens!” She gulped for air. “That was wondrous.” She collapsed to his chest.

“Oh, ’tis far from finished with you I am, woman.” James lifted her from his lap just enough to grab his cock and position it upright before he thrust his hips and buried himself to the hilt inside her. With the encouragement of his hands on her arse, Cailin bounced atop James, bracing her hands on his chest. How could it be possible that this position was even more divine than the other?

Cailin diverted her eyes from the ceiling back to James’s face and she bit her bottom lip to stay the laughter that threatened to bubble forth. Through the marvelous grinding, she managed to say, “Why James, ’tis though you have stolen the king’s jewels. What is that mischief in your eyes?”

Her betrothed—nay, now he would be husband—eased his cadence and reached up to caress the bottom swell of her breasts. Eyes feasting upon her flesh, he said, “I have stolen away with a jewel more prized than any king’s ransom. Cailin Mac—Cailin
Knightly
, a woman whose passion meets that of my own, whose skill with a blade makes me want to impale her.” He thrust upward and she moaned. With a gentle hand to the nape of her neck, he pulled her down for a tender kiss. He cupped her face with his palms. “And a woman whom I can count as my dearest friend. You have not changed much these years, Mouse…except to become more beautiful and entrancing. You have always been the adventuresome, practical and passionate person who is my perfect mate.”

Cailin’s smile melted into a frown. “But how freely can we enjoy our life together if it is haunted by the threat of Angus Campbell?”

“We will overcome that threat,” he promised. “For now, let us not spoil this time together.” James moved his hips under her, successfully wrangling her thoughts back to their lovemaking, and they rode to another climax in each other arms before they lay entangled and satiated and drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

Angus scowled in the darkness. His body trembled with weakness. His mind swirled with confusion and anger. What had transpired while in possession of that wretched girl?

This sickness upon him was much like the weakness that lorded over his body for three years after Broderick had driven Davina’s silver-decorated blade into his heart. The silver had poisoned him and his recovery was more extensive than he had ever imagined possible. Three years…before he returned to being somewhat normal again. Three years of living like an animal, feeding off the weak and frail like an outcast wolf waiting for scraps, before he was strong enough to pursue any real kind of hunt. Three years to seethe over the lies Broderick MacDougal either believed himself or was foolish enough to think Angus would believe.

Fingering the welted burn on his chest where Cailin had touched the medallion to his skin, he snarled. The crude symbols from the piece, he was sure, would mark his skin permanently. “The
Tzava Ha’or
,” he growled. Why was the Army of Light protecting them? How did Broderick obtain this, being a Vamsyrian?

“Lord Campbell?” Jasper’s raspy voice intruded upon Angus’s thoughts. But the smell of blood drifted through the cracks of the dark, chamber door and gave Angus strength.

He grinned. Jasper and three of his henchmen were all Cailin and James had left behind. All four of them were wounded. Even in his weakness, Angus had overpowered and shoved them into the adjoining chamber, locking them inside before the lethargy of his daytime slumber rendered him unconscious.

He rose on shaky knees, inhaled deeply to savor the aroma of their fear and stalked to the door. Swinging it open, Angus surveyed the four men lying about the room, propped against the walls, their eyes searching the blackness through which only Angus could see. The thick scent of their blood swept over him like a determined lover, arousing his urgency. By their gasps, Angus knew the silver glow in his eyes had flared to life, a sign of the
Hunger
.

“Good morrow, Jasper.” The grave tone of his voice pleased him.

Jasper squeaked some unintelligible word, cleared his throat and tried again. “Ye said ye wanted to wait until the next day to ask yer questions. We be ready to aid ye, m’lord.”

“And that you will, Jasper.” Angus filled the doorway…their only escape. Narrowing his eyes at them, he struggled to discern their thoughts. He sensed their fear, but the words of their minds drifted incoherently in and out of reach, like a shout lost on the wind, a figure fading intermittently through fog. “Tell me, Jasper, what has transpired as of late that you have kept from me?”

“T-transpired, m’lord?” His voice trembled.

“Aye.” Angus crossed his arms. “The thought patterns I hear from you and your men…” A spike in Jasper’s fear stabbed at the
Hunger
and Angus smiled. “They are very much like the thought patterns I heard from the young James Knightly.” He knelt before Jasper and grabbed his shirt when the wretch tried to slink away. “I can smell your fear, Jasper. Conspiring with the enemy?”

Jasper’s jaw bobbed up and down and he stammered, “N-nay, m-m’lord! I-I—”

Dragging him to the corner by his shirt, Angus tossed Jasper aside and pounced on the next man within reach. Fingers buried in his greasy hair, he yanked the man’s head to the side and sank his fangs into this throat.

Blessed euphoria flooded his body and Angus surrendered to the sweet song of the man’s dying soul. Though he gained knowledge of this man’s life through his blood, as with any other feeding, this exchange was a silent one. No rambling thoughts. No cacophony of words. Just the absorption of knowledge from his miserable life of thieving and opportunistic choices.
Ohhh…
and as this creature’s body sagged in his arms, the life fading away, the euphoria
continued
.

Angus gasped as the man dropped to the floor like a sack of grain, forgotten and inconsequential compared to the rapture coursing through his veins.
What is this heaven?

 
The pleasure of feeding normally ended—and rather abruptly—when he released his victims. This bliss continued to glide through his limbs, building, and merrily settled into his groin. Panting, Angus stepped forward and slapped his palms to the stone wall to steady himself as an unaided and ravishing climax surged through his shaft. His ballocks jerked into his body and he roared his release. Gasping for air, he shook his head to clear the haze of the lingering thrill.

“Huz-
zah
!” Snapping his head toward Jasper, he said, “What
is
this laudanum?”

Jasper swallowed. “B-beg yer pardon, m’lord?”

The other two men had made for the exit while Angus fed. One had succeeded in slinking into the hall, the other halfway over the threshold. “Oh nay, my little delicacies!”

With strength renewed by the fresh blood and this miracle drug, Angus snatched both men back from their retreat and tossed them into the corners of the room, slamming the door and bolting it.

He turned to Jasper once more and pointed to the body. “The experiences of that man, as you know, told me you gave these men something called laudanum to ease their pain.” He stalked forward and his henchman scrambled away on the floor. Angus backed him against the wall. Nose to nose, Angus chuckled at Jasper. “He did not know what it was made of, but true enough…the elixir eased his pain and gave him quite a sensation in the process.”

Jasper nodded in the dark. “Aye, m-m’lord. ’Tis something Alistair brought back from his journey to Germania when he sought after his son.” He panted for a moment before saying with a calmer voice, “Did ye gain some pleasure from the tonic in his blood, m’lord?”

Angus threw his head back and laughed. “Pleasure, my dear wretch, is
exactly
what I gained.” He turned to the man groaning across the room and, before the pitiful sod could scuffle away, Angus plucked him from the floor and fed. Another rippling and gratifying climax surged through his body.
’Tis well and good Vamsyrians no longer spill seed. My breeches would be filled!

The third man lay curled into a ball, crying and pleading for his life…petitions which fell upon deaf ears. Angus gloried in the third climax, his roar of approval filling the chamber. “Jasper, you must tell me about this wonderful elixir!”

The fear ebbed from Jasper, his breathing and voice more stable. “Well, yer lordship, I-I know not how it is made. Alistair had a source in Germania and—”

“Come now, Jasper.” Angus crossed his arms and stood before his now-shrinking servant. “Have you not yet learned I know when you are lying?”

“Nay, please, m’lord,” Jasper whimpered. “I—”

Angus pulled Jasper to his feet and sank his fangs into his throat, drinking deep, and a fourth climax rolled through his body. Angus stood trembling as the sensations ebbed. He absorbed and examined the full truth—the recipe for the elixir and how Jasper had learned one side-effect of the tonic. It clouded musings so Vamsyrians were unable to clearly hear the thoughts of mortals.

“So, Alistair learned of this through his brief exchanges with Broderick,” Angus said to Jasper’s crumpled form, dying at his feet. “And you, my friend, decided to try it out on me to gain an advantage.” He smiled as a death rattle thrummed from Jaspers mouth. “Thank you for the thrilling experience and the knowledge of such a treat.”

Angus stalked from the room, through the ruins and out the front gate. The wind teased his cheeks as he dashed through the trees and toward his destination. Though strengthened by the blood and exhilaration of the feedings, he had not yet recovered his full strength. This meant he would not reach Edinburgh before dawn…but he may have a chance to catch up to James and Cailin before
they
reached the city.

James obviously obtained the laudanum from Alistair in spite of being on ill-terms with his father. This must have been how James was able to keep his thoughts clouded and why I could not anticipate his battle moves.

“Hrmmm…very clever, young Knightly.” He smiled as he glanced at the rising moon and increased his pace. “Let us see how clever you feel when I drain the life from
your
body and revel in another climax over your death.”

* * * * *

The moon, almost finishing its arc for the night, beckoned Broderick to make haste. Edinburgh—and home—were too close for him to stop now. He pressed on as fast as his limbs allowed.

Though the night before Malloren Rune had encouraged him to stay another day, Broderick rushed to cover as much ground as possible in the few short hours remaining in the evening. The words of the prophetess had attested her gift in most everything she had predicted, and yet he still did not trust her completely. He would not waste another moment away from his family in spite of her warning. He had also thought with his heart instead of his head and near regretted his decision, as finding a suitable shelter before dawn had almost been his undoing…just as she had said. Fortunately, he discovered an abandoned farmhouse with a root cellar that needed little preparation. He grudgingly offered thanks toward heaven as he lost consciousness. Due to his furious pace, the need to be home driving him ever onward and his familiarity with the route, the return trip proved shorter than his initial journey toward Stonehenge.

Yet, however short the journey home, he still had many hours to ponder these last few days. And a single point of contention nagged at his conscience. Distracted with the safety of his family and rushing home, he had never followed up on Cordelia’s part in this puppet show controlled by God. What was her connection with Malloren Rune? And what was Malloren’s role other than assembling the prophecy? He grumbled at how she had manipulated the amulet into his possession. Malloren knew he would not take such a piece from a stranger. Passed between too many hands, the relic’s source would be unknown to him. Amice was the perfect messenger, for he did not even question the necklace’s origin since it came from her. “What other machinations have you sorceress?” he murmured under his breath. “Where do they end?”

MacDougal Castle loomed in the distance on the edge of the horizon and remained the single focus of his spirit as he crossed the rocky terrain. As he neared, the Gypsy camp came into view. It seemed serene with little activity, nestled beside the road at the base of the hill on which perched his home…though the smell of campfires seemed unusually strong. Pounding down the darkened path, past the surrounding forest and up the road to the fortress, Broderick finally slowed his pace as he crossed the bridge and approached the gate. He slammed his fist into the thick oak monstrosity. “I bid entrance into my home!” he bellowed.

“Lord MacDougal has returned!” a voice shouted from atop the high curtain wall. “Open the gate!”

Panting, Broderick waited for the long bolt to slide back and the gates to ease open on their massive hinges. With just enough breadth between the two doors, he dashed through and darted for the entrance. He’d barely pushed open the door and stepped into the front hall when Davina padded down the stairs. Her hair unbound and hanging to her waist, her thin night shift whispering around her like a spirit, Broderick almost couldn’t believe the vision before him. She picked up her hem and sprinted into his embrace, throwing her eager arms around him. Her body trembled as she sobbed against his neck. A mixture of fear, sadness and relief swarmed around them like a whirlwind.