The MacGregor (16 page)

Ginny smiled. ‘I'm waiting for a lift.'

Sean was surprised. It seemed an odd place to be waiting. ‘Oh?'

She stepped closer, her dark eyes gleaming in her pale face. ‘My cousin, Calix Campbell, is picking me up to take me to the castle.'

Sean had heard of Carrick Castle but had never been near it. He turned and looked over the loch. Not so much as a salmon stirred. But it wasn't his business. ‘Well, nice to see you, Ginny. I guess I'll see you in the morning.'

Ginny nodded and turned her eyes back to Megan. ‘I guess you will,' she said. Then she moved sinuously towards him. She was so close that he could smell the coconut scent of her hair. And the invitation in her large eyes was anything but subtle. ‘You could come with me if you like, Sean. Calix would be delighted to meet you.' She practically purred.

Sean was embarrassed. While he knew she'd had a crush on him, this full-frontal assault was inappropriate. To say the least. But he didn't want a row. He wholeheartedly wished that he'd let her go when he'd had the chance. ‘Good bye, then,' he said.

He turned to Megan. And forgot the words he'd been about to say. It was mad, but he could have sworn that he'd seen one of her ears move! A pointy ear at that. Oh my God! Yes! And there it was again. A tip of an ear that just twitched through the heavy head of hair. What the hell?

Megan must have sensed his scrutiny for she lifted a hand and ruffled her hair. The ear disappeared.

He closed his eyes for a moment and gathered himself. ‘Come on, Megan, let's go.'

For one horrible moment Sean thought that Megan was going to refuse. But she didn't. She took his hand and followed him back towards the car without any fuss.

‘Sean, there's something I have to show you,' she said.

He glanced at her but she was looking away as they both slid into the car. Sean gunned the engine and they bunny-hopped down the road. They travelled for a few miles until Megan stirred and pointed towards the forest. He pulled over in the shelter of the pines. The engine snuffed out and they were quiet. The wind whined through the trees and a stream bubbled along its stony bed.

He watched Megan expectantly. And blinked. ‘What the hell?' His eyes narrowed in concentration as he stared at the side of her head. His hand seemed to move of its own accord. Fingers reaching out to her hair. Fingers gently lifting the soft tresses. ‘Holy shit!'

Megan closed her eyes and let out a soft whine.

Sean watched on, thrilled, scared and incredulous. Time and place suspended. He could not move. He could not breathe. He could scarcely believe.

And then Megan turned to him. Amber eyes blazing. She licked her lips with a pink tongue. And then she smiled. Teeth shining like burnished ivory. ‘Let's go hunting.'

Sean ran a finger unsteadily along the downy length of her ear. His heart throbbed. Slowly he traced the line of her jaw. The red pelt felt as soft as velvet to his touch. Heat emanated from her as if she were about to combust. She was pure energy. Pure animalistic power. She was breathtaking. And she was his.

Megan waited. Every nerve, every tendon and every synapse straining. The fox cub sat forgotten on the soft carpet of needles at her feet. She had eyes and ears only for Sean. Her mind was a maelstrom of emotion. Sean could speak the old language! Sean was not mortal! But, if he wasn't mortal, then what was he? She didn't know.

And it did not change anything. He was in such peril. And she could not help him, if he did not understand. But there was risk. Such risk. She looked into his beautiful blue eyes, trying to see his thoughts. What if he were afraid? What if he were disgusted? What if he were to walk away? What if she never saw him again? What if someone hurt him? Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest.

Sean's finger hovered like a dragonfly on the pulse of her neck. A pulse already in fast forward. Perhaps her heart would burst.

‘Oh my God, Megan,' he whispered.

‘Please, don't be afraid,' she begged.

And then he smiled. And the moon came out in her mind and bathed her soul with light.

‘I'm not afraid,' he said. ‘Megan, it's just…so…freakin' fantastic! You blow my mind.'

And then she laughed too. She was so happy. Everything was all right.

His finger pressed down on her collarbone and then ran back up her neck. His eyes were wide, the pupils dilated. ‘Megan…how is this possible?'

But she couldn't contain herself any longer. The night called. She lifted her muzzle to the canopy and let out the sad, sad song of her kind. It echoed through the valley and bounced back. And all the nocturnal creatures of the forest were still. Aware. Afraid. For they knew Megan MacGregor.

When the last note had died Megan forced her mind to focus. It was hard. The heady scent of deer and cow and badger and boar consumed her senses. She leaned close to him and rubbed her cheek against his. ‘Sean,' she sighed, ‘I am one of The Children Of The Mist. And I must be what I am.'

And she could wait no longer. She left him then, drawn on by her unique nature to do what she did best. Kill.

Megan was gone. Sean was shaking. His head was full of fireworks and his hands had St Vitus dance. If it hadn't been for the cub at his feet he would have got back in the car and driven away and blamed it on the potion.

He bent down and picked up the cub. It was the first time that he'd ever touched a wild animal. Then a hint of a smile touched his lips. Well, best make that the second time. The cub's tiny body was soft and warm. For a moment Sean was overwhelmed as he recalled the feel of Megan's…fur…? pelt…? at the tips of his fingers. It seemed that his little fox wasn't a fox at all. She was a werewolf.

Instinctively he looked up at the sky, searching for a glimpse of the moon. But through the canopy he could only see a bank of cloud. Was it a full moon? He wasn't sure. But it must be. Well, that's if what he knew about werewolves was true. Not that he knew much. Although, perhaps, in this moment he knew more than most. Holy crap.

And, for the first time, Sean forced himself to consider the possibility that Lydia and Nancy were right. Megan's transformation had washed away the smog in his mind like a windscreen-wiper shifting snow. After all, if he accepted that Megan was a werewolf, then he must surely have to consider the possibility that he was some sort of witch. Or maybe wizard. Mind you, he really liked the sound of warlock. Warlock felt right. Yes, if he had to have a title, he'd go for Warlock. Cool.

He shifted the cub into the crook of one arm, slipped his other hand into the back pocket of his jeans and dug out the acorn. The nut was the one absolute in all of this. The acorn was real. No doubt about it. But what did it mean? It was all very well reading messages on quilts and frolicking around the woods at night effortlessly felling oak trees, but where did it leave him? What was the use of it?

He slipped the acorn back in his pocket. If only the potion hadn't worn off, maybe he could have found the answer in the wind's whisper or the hoot of an owl. Still, at least he had found some focus. Now what he needed was to find some answers. And the wacky witches seemed eager to help. Soon as he found a moment, he'd track them down.

A high-pitched screech bought him back to the moment. Eager for a glimpse of her, he searched the dark recesses of the forest. Where was she? What was she doing? And it hit him like a locomotive. He was dating a werewolf. A supernatural creature. A myth. A legend. Quite a challenge, really. Still, Sean felt he was more than up for it. After all, he was a kind of a kook himself.

The vixen stirred in his arms. She sniffed the air and yipped. Seconds later Megan slipped out of the gloom. Sean watched her, utterly enthralled. A creature totally at home in her natural environment. She moved like smoke. Sinuous and silent. He was captivated. And then he understood, with crystalline clarity, that she could destroy him as easily as he could rip up a sheet of tissue paper. Perhaps he was no more than a willing captive.

In her hand she carried a carcass. It looked like a rabbit or a hare. She left a trail of gleaming black droplets in her wake. Like a macabre trail of breadcrumbs. She was magnificent.

When she reached him she dropped the hare and her mouth opened to reveal a set of teeth a Rottweiler would have coveted.

Sean grinned. ‘Hope you're flossing.' And then his heart missed a beat as she tilted her chin, just a fraction, in that engaging way that she had. She snapped her teeth together like castanets and came to him. Her arms slid around his neck and she nuzzled into him. Her tongue flickered out and tasted his neck.

She released him and took several steps backwards.

Sean watched with a mixture of awe and anxiety as she struggled her way back into her other self.

Finally she stood and shook violently. Fur flew. She sighed and stretched and spat out a red furball. The vixen cub was frantic and so Sean put her on the ground. She scampered across the forest floor, her tail fluffed up like a bottlebrush. Megan laughed as the baby took a hold of the hare and worried at its fur coat.

Megan went to her, and picked up both the cub and the carcass. She turned to Sean, her eyes glowing amber. ‘Come on, lover boy.'

And he did.

The fire snapped and crackled, casting crazy shadows around the dell. The pines sighed. Water bubbled down the brook. Life was good. Life was perfect. Megan's heart burned with fierce love as she watched Sean pick shreds of meat from the hare's carcass. The fox cub, her belly bloated with meat, lay in his lap.

He must have felt the heat of her gaze for he looked up and caught her eye. ‘So…'

For a moment she bathed in the blue ocean of his eyes. Her stomach curled over with delight. ‘So…'

Sean put the bones down and sucked his fingers. ‘So, you're a werewolf.'

She nodded, afraid to speak in case she spoiled things with ill-chosen words.

‘And, I guess that means your grandfather is one too?'

Again, she nodded.

‘How old are you?'

This took her by surprise and the truth slipped out unintentionally. ‘Eighteen.'

He sat up tall and glared at her. ‘Eighteen! Holy crap. You should be at university. Not running around…' Words seemed to fail him.

‘Killing stuff?' she offered helpfully.

‘No! I was going to say seducing innocent men.'

She grinned. ‘You're no innocent.'

He had the grace to look faintly embarrassed. ‘Perhaps not. But you took advantage of me.'

She nodded. ‘I know.'

This seemed to disarm him. ‘Sorry. It's a bit of a…shock.' He shifted the cub who grumbled softly, and then he leaned closer. ‘So, what does your grandfather think?'

Megan remembered her last conversation with Grandad and squirmed. Better shift the direction of the conversation. It was a little premature to bring up the subject of matrimony. It'd have to wait a day or two. ‘Oh, he's never worried about school and stuff.'

‘You've never been to school?'

‘No. Grandad taught me to read and write. School is terribly overrated.'

‘So, what will you do?'

She didn't know what he meant. ‘Do about what?'

‘Well, how will you get a job and stuff.'

She was horrified. ‘A job? Yuk. What's the point?'

He frowned and rubbed his nose. ‘To earn a living. You know, buy stuff.'

Now she got it. ‘Grandad has a fishing boat. That brings in enough for most stuff. Anything else, I just…source.'

The blue eyes narrowed. ‘Source?'

‘Find and acquire.'

His eyes opened as wide as the bonnie blue ocean. ‘You mean…steal?'

Megan shrugged. ‘If you like.'

It was his turn to be horrified.

Megan was amused. ‘So, you're OK with werewolf but uncomfortable with illegal acquisitioning?'

Sean burst out laughing. ‘Shit, Megan MacGregor, you'll be the death of me!'

But his words scared her. He had no idea how close to the truth he was. She realised that she couldn't put it off any longer. She had to tell him about Ginny Campbell. In fact, it was time to tell him it all.

Sean went silent for a moment. ‘Megan, aren't you afraid of what would happen if you got caught?'

She leapt up, outraged. ‘No one will ever catch me and live to tell the tale, Sean Duncan!'

The moment stretched out like a fishing line as he gazed up at her. Then they spoke simultaneously ‘There's something I have to tell you.'

Megan sank back onto the ground and took a deep breath. But before either could speak, a scream rent the air around them. It was the sound of abject terror. Once more it stabbed through the still of the night. Megan's sixth sense stirred. Vampyre.

Sean felt the blood in his veins turn into ice chips. ‘What the hell is that?'

They both stood up and looked towards the sound.

Megan looked at him, the oddest expression on her face, something halfway between fear and fury. ‘Vampyre.'

Sean thought he had misheard. ‘Vampyre?'

She nodded. ‘Sean, it's what I was going to tell you. Ginny Campbell, she is one of them.'

Sean was stunned. Then he laughed. It was ridiculous. Wasn't it? But even as his brain tried hard to reject the notion, many things neatly coalesced, like pixels in a photo. Megan was a werewolf. He accepted that as an absolute. So, why should vampyres be an impossibility? But Ginny? Ginny Campbell? It seemed so unlikely. And then he had a flash of inspiration. ‘She can't be a vampyre. I mean, they sleep all day, don't they? Ginny came to work every day. And in the sunlight and everything.'

Megan nodded. ‘I know. But, think about it for a moment. What hours does she actually work?'

Sean took a moment to think. ‘Well, early start at five, through until about ten, and then afternoon stables from about four.'