The Eternal Highlander (24 page)

Only when she had the chair levered against the door to prevent it opening, did Eva give up her makeshift weapon. Running to the fireplace, she tossed it back onto its brothers, then hurried back to his side.

“Let me see the wound,” she insisted, dropping to her knees beside him. She was tugging at his hand even as she spoke the order and Connall was feeling weak enough that he let her do as she wished. The wound was terribly deep and his blood loss, plus the reparations his body was having to make, were weakening him.

“There’s so much blood!”

He could hear the fear in her voice, but could do little to soothe her. Connall was suffering a good deal of fear at the moment as well, but not for himself. “Eva, ye ha’e to go.”

“What?” She glanced up at his face with confusion. “Nay, Connall. I must stop the bleeding.”

“Nay. Go!” He tried to push her away, but it was a rather weak push, one she simply rebounded from and ignored. Connall scowled. He didn’t care for feeling weak like this “Eva, I am orderin’ ye to go.”

“Well, you can order all you bloody like, my lord husband, but I will not leave your side until I get the bleeding stopped,” she snapped and Connall gaped at her, unable to believe his sweet, witty, lovely little bride had spoken to him so. Were wives not supposed to obey their husbands? He was sure he recalled that in the wedding ceremony.

“Come, we must get you on the bed.”

Eva was on her feet now and pulling at him, he realized, and bloody hell if she wasn’t somehow managing to lever him upward. Deciding he might get rid of her quicker if he aided in this endeavor, Connall did his best to help get himself on the bed, but if he had hoped she might then run for help, he had been sadly mistaken.

Once she had him there, she did rush off, but only to collect several candles from around the room. She lit them at the fire, then set them on the bedside tables, putting more light on the situation, then bent to examine his wound. He saw the surprise that widened her eyes.

“Tis not as bad as it first appeared. Tis just a flesh wound,” she informed him with some relief, then confusion crossed her brow. “But there was so much blood.”

“Eva,” Connall growled, fighting instincts that were quickly consuming him. The wound had been deep when she’d first looked and had been deeper still when it had first happened, but his body was healing itself; knitting together and repairing the damage. The bleeding would soon stop altogether, the wound would fully close, and within hours there wouldn’t even be a scar to show for the blow. This was all thanks to his bloodline, his Pictish ancestry on his mother’s side. It held many such wonderful gifts for its possessor; a prolonged life, resistance to illness and—handy as it was in this instance—quick healing. But these miraculous gifts came at a cost and he didn’t want Eva to pay the price.

“Eva, ye ha’e to go
now!
”

“You must be a bleeder,” she commented as if he hadn’t spoken, not that he had spoken very vehemently, Connall needed to replenish himself, he needed blood, a need that was growing unbearably strong.

“Tis not very deep, but it still must be closed.” Without waiting for his comment on this, she hurried away again and he watched helplessly as she ran to the chest by the fire and dug around inside. Eva was back within moments, bearing needle and thread, but when she bent to peer at his wound again, she paused, blinked, then leaned nearer for a closer look before muttering, “I would swear the wound has grown smaller still.”

Shaking her head at the ridiculousness of that observation, she began to thread her needle.

“Do no’ waste yer thread,” Connall said wearily.

Eva glanced up, then grew still as she peered at his face. “You look different.”

He said nothing, knowing that his face would appear leaner to her, his eyes perhaps taking on more of a yellow tinge in the brown depths.

“You are very pale, but…” She was obviously trying to puzzle it out, but didn’t understand and was growing frightened and confused.

“Aye, nae doubt I am pale. I lost a fair amount o’ blood,” Connall said, wishing he could ease this for her.

“Aye.” She nodded slowly and tried to smile, but was having difficulty with it and he knew she could see the hunger in him. “You need food and rest to rebuild it.”

“I need blood.”

Eva stared at him silently, then her eyes moved back to his wound as if drawn there by some unseen force. He could tell by her expression that it was continuing to heal, growing smaller by the moment.

“You heal much more quickly than we do,” she said finally.

Her voice was bleak and Connall winced at the knowledge in it. We. She had finally admitted to what was staring her in the face; the supposed reaction to the sun, the rumors, his wound healing so quickly…The fact that Aileen aged had probably confused her, but she was seeing it now.
‘You heal more quickly than we.’
We. He was not one of her kind, at least not wholly. He was different. Connall always had been, and should be used to it by now, but somehow it hurt hearing Eva say it.

Her face was expressionless when she turned it back to him to ask, “Are you soulless?”

Connall knew that she was making a decision in her mind, one vital to their future. He had feared this moment, but felt hope in the fact that she hadn’t simply turned away in horror.

“Aye. I’m no a dead, soulless creature as the rumors proclaim,” he answered solemnly. “I’m jest different.”

“But you cannot go out in sunlight. That is true?” she queried.

“I can, but it makes me ill and increases me need fer blood.”

Eva nodded slowly. “Do you kill those you…?”

“Feed on,” he supplied, then grimaced over the question before saying firmly, “There’s no mair need to kill those we feed on than there is to kill the cow who supplies the milk.”

For some reason that comment brought a wry smile to her lips, then she sighed and he thought he heard her mutter, “So I will be the cow after all.”

Connall was puzzling over that comment, when she sank to sit on the side of the bed and extended her arm toward him. “Go ahead, my lord. Take what you need.”

He stared at her helplessly. Take what you need? He needed her and he needed her blood, but he couldn’t do it, not like this. Connall could imagine sinking his teeth into her wrist and her watching him, shuddering with distaste and thinking him an animal. He didn’t want her to see him that way. He never wanted her to see him that way.

Taking her hand, he drew it to his lips and ran them lightly across the sensitive skin there even as he grit his teeth against the knowledge that the blood he so yearned for was pulsing below the thin surface of her flesh. Eva trembled under the caress and Connall felt relief that her knowledge did not now make him so repulsive to her that she could not bear or respond to his touch. He continued to move his lips along her arm, nibbling a trail to the crook of her arm, further relieved when Eva released a soft moan.

He lifted his head then and caught one hand behind her head to draw her down for a kiss. Eva came willingly, kissing him with the passion he was used to and Connall immediately began to tug at the neckline of her gown until one breast popped free and he could close his hand over it. Eva began to kiss him more frantically as he caressed her, pressing into his touch, and though he knew he was rushing it, Connall couldn’t stop himself from finding the hem of her skirt and sliding his hand beneath, to run along the inside of her leg until he found the center of her.

Eva gasped into his mouth, caught at his hand to still it and tugged free of the kiss to protest, “But you are hurt.”

“Aye, so ye’ll ha’e to help me, love.”

“Help?” She looked uncertain.

“Aye.”

Eva had eased her hold on his hand without thinking and he took advantage of this and started to caress her again even as he claimed her mouth once more. Connall thrust his tongue into her mouth to prevent any further protest, even as he thrust a finger into her, and was pleased when she gasped and her body arched in response. His control slipping, Connall struggled with his instincts for another moment before breaking the kiss and letting his lips trail to her ear where he growled, “Take yer gown off.”

Eva hesitated, then stood to do as he asked and Connall took that opportunity to sit up and ease his way further up the bed until he could sit with his back braced. His wound was completely healed now, with no sign that it had ever existed and he caught her staring at where it had been when he finished settling himself. Reaching out, he took her hand and tugged lightly, pulling her forward. “Come. Sit on me lap and kiss me again.”

She surprised him by moving without hesitation, but he realized as she straddled him that she was trembling, her body already in a heightened state of excitement as was his own. It took only a moment for him to understand why, it was the blood rush after battle, some said it was a result of excess energy after a fight, others said it was a need to reaffirm life after a brush with death. Connall didn’t care what it was, but it was powerful and would aid him here, eliminating the necessity to go slowly.

Eva was straddling him, but still upright on her knees and Connall took advantage of the position to reach between her legs and caress her again with one hand as he tugged her head down for a kiss with the other. Her passion grew quickly and his along with it, her little moans and mewls of pleasure stoking his own desires, but his were twofold and demanding and Connall soon could not wait any longer. Easing his hand from between her legs, he caught her hips and urged her down, groaning into her mouth as she closed over him like a warm, wet glove, squeezing his flesh and making it grow harder still.

Eva felt some of her anxiety slip away from her as her husband groaned into her mouth. This was all new to her and slightly uncomfortable in that she was the one in control and feared doing it wrong. That sound of pleasure from Connall, however, eased her fears somewhat and Eva began to emulate his movements when he was in control and quickly raised herself back up, easing herself almost off him before letting herself slide back down his length again. The action elicited another groan, encouraging her further, but soon her own pleasure made her forget any anxiety and she began to move in the way that felt most pleasurable to her, her breath beginning to come in pants as the now familiar tension began to build.

When Connall’s hand slid between their bodies again to touch her, the tension increased tenfold and she began to move more urgently, then Connall broke their kiss, his mouth moving to her neck and nibbling a trail there. Eva let her head drop backward, her breath coming fast and hard. She was a hair’s breadth away from finding that sweet release he always gave her and cried his name in a desperate plea, then her eyes shot open as she felt his teeth slide into her neck even as his body slammed into hers. There was the briefest second of pain from his bite, then pleasure exploded inside of her and Eva screamed his name as her body began to shudder and pulse with release.

“The lass saved yer life,” Magaidh said solemnly.

“Aye.” Connall stared down into his ale as he considered that Eva had saved him twice; first by fending off the attacker, then by replenishing some of the blood he had lost. Had she not been there and offered herself up to him as she had, Connall wasn’t at all sure he’d have survived until the sun had set and it was safe for him to seek out sustenance elsewhere.

Connall ran a hand through his hair with agitation. He had spent his whole life knowing he was stronger and faster than most of those around him, certainly stronger and faster than all mortals. In truth, he supposed he had always considered himself somewhat superior because of this, but last night he had been the weaker one, his life dependent on a mortal, and a female at that. It had been a humbling experience.

“She’s lucky she wasnae injured,” Aileen murmured, then frowned. “Eva
is
all right, is she no? She wasnae injured so that she hasnae come down yet?”

“Nay, she’s fine,” he said and hoped it was true. Connall hadn’t intended to take much blood, just enough to see him through until night fell and he could head out on a hunt, but in the excitement of the moment, with the hunger roaring in his ears and his body buried deep in hers as ecstasy rolled over them both, he’d taken more than he’d intended. Connall had only stopped when she’d gone limp in his arms, and could still recall the pallor of her skin as he’d lifted his head to peer down at her. Eva had lain limp and pale in his arms, and so very still. Connall had felt a fear like he had never before known clutch at him. It was only then, as he’d cradled her in his arms and pressed her head to his chest that he’d realized how much he’d grown to care for the woman. She had been trying since arriving to make a place for herself at MacAdie, but somehow had crept into his heart and made a home for herself there as well. He loved Eva and that knowledge had kept him awake to watch over her until his physical state alone had forced him to sleep.

Connall had awoken at sunset to find her curled up against him. She’d still looked awfully pale to him, but not nearly as much as she had the night before, and when he’d brushed a hand lightly over her cheek and she had murmured his name sleepily, relief had flooded him along with the knowledge that she was recovering. He’d decided to leave her to rest for a bit while he tended to his need to feed, and had dressed and left the night room.

Aware that he was too weak to defend himself properly should he be attacked ere he could feed again, Connall had been relieved to find Ewan, Donaidh, Geordan, Keddy, Domhall, and Ragnall still seated at the trestle table in the great hall. As the six men he trusted most at MacAdie, he’d enlisted their company for the ride. By the time they had returned half an hour ago, he had recounted the full details of the attack from that morning.

Connall had gone upstairs to check on Eva the moment they had arrived. Finding her still sleeping, he’d decided he’d have to wake her soon and make her eat, rest was good for restoring her, but food was just as important. He’d come below to order Effie to prepare a meal for the lass, then had come to sit at the trestle table to wait for it to be ready and found Ewan telling the women about the intruder and the attack that morning.

“So, you think he must have returned again last night and figured out how to open the door?” Magaidh asked now, drawing Connall back to the conversation at hand.

“Aye. Or he may have been in the hall, or watching from one of the rooms while I showed Ewan how to open it,” he murmured, recalling how he had heard the click of a door closing. At the time, he’d explained it away as it being Ewan, but Aileen and Ewan’s room was at the far end of the hall and he thought now that this had sounded closer to hand and suspected it had been the intruder closing the door of whatever room he had been watching from. There were a couple of empty bedchambers at the moment, rooms he hoped to fill with their bairns.

“We shall have to put a guard on the chamber entrance,” Magaidh murmured, looking troubled.

“Aye. I’ve already arranged it,” Connall assured her, aware that she slept in the night rooms too and would worry about that as well. He had decided to put a guard on the chamber while out with the men. More than that, he had decided that there should be two guards with Eva at all times while she was up, then two on the chamber while they slept. He’d left it to Ewan to sort out who did what.

“M’laird?”

Connall glanced around to find Glynis standing at his shoulder, holding a tray with food, and stood abruptly to take it from her, then paused. Eva had given him a great gift that morning, she’d given him his life and he wished to give her something in return, but wasn’t sure what she might like. She asked for nothing and accepted the smallest things as great gifts.

“Glynis?”

“Aye?” The maid glanced at him expectantly.

“I’m thinkin’ to gi’e me wife something, a treat to please her. Do ye ken anything she might like?”

The maid looked doubtful for a moment and Connall felt disappointment claim him that she might have no more idea than himself, then she murmured, “The only thing she’s ever mentioned to me that she might like, m’laird, is to see the water.”

“The water?” Magaidh asked with interest and the girl nodded.

“Aye. She grew up on the ocean, and has said a time or two that she’s missin’ it, so I mentioned that we had a loch nearby and she said she’d like to see it someday.”

“She mentioned that to me once as well,” Aileen murmured. “Said her favorite thing in the world was to slip away and sneak a swim once in a while when chores were done, and she missed doin’ that here.”

Connall frowned at this news. “Is there nothin’ else she’s e’er mentioned, wantin’ or likin’?”

“Nay, m’laird,” Glynis said apologetically. “She’s no the sort to ask fer things, I think.”

Connall sighed at this comment, knowing it was true, then nodded and turned to carry the tray upstairs.

A gentle hand running over her shoulders brought Eva slowly awake to find herself lying on her stomach in bed. Moaning a protest at being awoken, she rolled slowly onto her back and blinked at her husband, wondering why she felt so tired. Her eyes felt gritty and her mind sluggish, she was unusually cold and felt weak too.

“How do ye feel?” Connall brushed the hair back from her face, his smile not hiding the concern in his eyes.

“Tired,” Eva admitted, then realizing it sounded almost a whine, grimaced at herself and forced a smile. “Could you not sleep?”

“Tis night,” he informed her, then added, “I brought ye something tae eat. Ye need to rebuild yer strength.”

He helped her to sit up in bed and Eva found her gaze shifting around the room. A fire was burning cheerfully in the hearth and every candle she had brought from the other chamber was now lit so that the room was as bright as daylight. Once he had her seated upright with cushions behind her to prop her up, Connall turned to the table to collect a tray he had set there. Eva’s nose began to twitch as she finally noted the mouthwatering smells filling the room and was suddenly starving. She peered eagerly at the food as he set the tray on her lap, wine, bread and cheese and some sort of stew, chicken she thought, and she made a face as her stomach rumbled. Eva was hard-pressed not to attack the food she was so starved, and even after she had eaten every last crumb of food he had brought her, she seemed still to be hungry. That fact made her ponder when she had last eaten.

Eva recalled having supper the night before, then coming up to make this room more comfortable, then falling asleep for a bit. She had awoken from her nap shortly before Connall returned and they had…Oh, yes. She smiled faintly to herself as she recalled his efforts “to tire her out.” Not that it had worked, he had fallen off to sleep at once and she had planned to sew—

Eva stiffened as the memories of the rest of the night spun into her head. The intruder…hitting him with the burning log…Connall’s wound and the way it had healed.

“Dear Lord, you
are
a vampire,” Eva gasped, then covered her mouth to keep the wayward thing from spouting any other unwanted revelations.

Connall stiffened, his eyes shooting to her face. He had the oddest expression on his face, she noted. He looked…scared? Nay, apprehensive was a better description, and Eva had to wonder why he was looking so apprehensive when he was the soulless—

Nay, not soulless, she reminded herself, recalling their conversation from the night before. He was not dead, nor soulless, he had assured her and he did not kill those he bit. Connall had described himself as just different and while Eva thought that was something of an understatement, she reassured herself with that information, now. He was just different, still her husband, the kind, sweet, gentle man who had treated her as if she had value, and shown her such consideration, as well as taught her passion. Nothing else had changed, she reminded herself as her head began to spin. He was the clan chief of the MacAdie, and her husband. And really, as flaws went, vampirism was much more pleasant to deal with than his being a wife beater or some such thing. Wasn’t it?

“Dear Lord,” Eva breathed, shaking her head at her own thoughts, then she glanced to Connall again. He was uncharacteristically silent, his attention focused on her with an intensity that made her nervous. Her husband hadn’t said a word since she’d blurted that he was a vampire and it was making her uncomfortable enough to start searching her mind for a way to make him leave.

“If you have things to do, you need not trouble yourself to wait here for me to finish eating. I can manage well enough on my own,” she murmured at last, though the food was all gone.

“Tis no trouble to be with ye,” he said with a frown and there was sudden anger on his face. “Yer no a burden to me, Eva, ye ne’er ha’e been and ne’er will be. Dear God, ye saved me life this morn, woman, no once, but twice. Ha’e ye no realized yer worth yet?”

“I—” Eva shook her head helplessly, confused by the tears suddenly pooling in her eyes. His vehemence was as surprising to her as the words themselves. She
had
saved his life that morning. She’d driven the intruder off with the log, then…well all right, the feeding bit wasn’t that impressive. Anyone would have done in that instance, but she
had
fended off the intruder.

“Ye’ve courage and beauty and intelligence and are a worthy wife. E’en a king would ha’e pride in claimin’ ye to wife. I have felt nothing but pride in claimin’ ye meself.”

“Despite my bein’ accident prone?” she teased with a wry twist of the lips.

“Yer accidents are a result o’ tryin’ too hard to earn a place here,” he said quietly. “But ’tis only because you doonae realize ye already ha’e a place here. Yer the Lady MacAdie. My wife.”

Eva swallowed, her gaze dropping from his at those words. They made her heart ache for some reason.

“Why do ye look away? Do ye hate me now?”

Eva glanced back up with surprise. “What?”

“Now that ye know what I am?” he explained. “Will ye be wantin’ an annulment? Beggin’ to be set free? Wid ye rather a mortal man to husband? Should I take ye back to Caxton?”

Eva stared at him in horror, fear clutching at her heart at the very idea of what he suggested. Leave here? Leave the only place that had felt like a true home since her parents died? Leave these people who had been so kind? Leave Magaidh and Aileen and Glynis, and Effie and Ewan and the men? The very idea was horrifying, but not as wrenching as the idea of leaving him. The hours of talk and games and passion she had shared with him whirled in her mind. Moments when he had held her and gentled the hair away from her face, just cradling her to him and making her feel as if she belonged right there, in his arms. To lose that, never to enjoy it again…The very thought made her heart ache and Eva suddenly realized that her feelings for her husband went beyond gratitude or caring, or even the dutiful love a wife was supposed to have for a husband, but then she had known that morning when his life was threatened, she admitted to herself. It was the only thing that had given her the courage to charge the intruder rather than cower where she hid, it was what had made her keep her head and try to tend to him when she had realized how badly he was wounded and needed her. It was the only thing that had kept her from panicking or dropping in a dead faint when she had finally admitted to herself what she had been refusing to recognize all along and acknowledged that her husband was indeed a vampire. Eva had come to love her husband, and that love would allow her to accept much about him…including his being a vampire.

“Nay,” she said finally. “I would not have the marriage annulled. You are my husband.”

Connall looked torn for a minute, then said, “Why will ye keep it so when ye ken what I am?”

“I…” She peered at him helplessly, not quite having the courage to reveal her feelings.

“If ’tis out of duty, I’ll no ha’e it. I’ll no ha’e ye stayin’ with me out o’ duty and silently hatin’ me fer what I am.”

“I do not hate you, I—” She stopped short, fear crowding around her, then Eva saw the look on his face, the hope there and the fear. It was the fear that did it for her. Eva had spent the better part of her life feeling unwanted, and she would never see anyone suffer that, she would not have Connall doubting, even for a moment, that he was wanted, cared for, loved. Drawing on some of the courage that had carried her through the attack that morning, she blurted, “I love you.”