Read It Happened One Bite Online
Authors: Lydia Dare
Blaire couldn’t help but smile at her coven sister. Sorcha was always the most exuberant of the bunch. “Ye can tell me all the details. MacQuarrie was sparse on those.”
Sorcha linked her arm with Blaire’s and tugged her toward a cheerful yellow parlor. “Poor Mr. MacQuarrie. I dinna see him before he left. Was he very heartbroken?”
His heart was the least of his worries now, but Blaire couldn’t bring herself to tell the tale more than once. She shook her head.
“Wallace was beside himself,” Sorcha giggled. “I think he actually threatened Lord Brimsworth.”
Blaire couldn’t care less what Sorcha’s overgrown half-brother had done. “Listen, Sorch, somethin’ has happened. Somethin’ terrible. We need ta gather everyone together. We’re goin’ ta need all our powers combined.”
Sorcha dropped Blaire’s arm, and fear washed across her features. “That’s no’ possible.”
“Is Elspeth no’ back?” Blaire’s head pounded as she sank into an overstuffed chintz chair. “How much longer will it be, do ye think?”
“It’s no’ Elspeth.” Sorcha frowned. “She and Benjamin returned yesterday, but Caitrin is gone.”
“Gone!” Blaire bellowed. “But she just returned.”
“Well, she had some vision of Lord Brimsworth’s father, and she and the earl started for Kent with no time ta spare. It could be months before she’s back in Edinburgh. What’s happened? Why do we need all of us?”
Blaire’s heart sank. Without all five of them, what would they do? Without Cait in their numbers, it was foolhardy to rouse everyone tonight. They’d have the same trouble worrying them tomorrow. “More than I can go inta tonight. Send a note ta the others for me, will ye?”
“Of course.”
“Can we meet in yer orangery tomorrow for luncheon?”
Sorcha’s soft brown eyes twinkled. “Oh, what a wonderful idea. I can show ye my new orchids.”
Orchids were the last thing on Blaire’s mind.
Blaire paced Sorcha’s orangery from one end of the windowed room to the other. She was being foolish, she knew. She was early; the others weren’t even late. But she couldn’t help herself. All morning long she’d felt as though someone was watching her, and it made the hair at the back of her neck stand on end.
“
Havers!
” Lady Elspeth Westfield’s voice stopped Blaire mid-pace.
Blaire turned on her heel and rushed toward her friend. It seemed like a lifetime since she’d seen her last, though in truth it had only been a few months. Blaire threw her arms around the healing witch’s neck and held her tightly, though she was careful of Elspeth’s protruding belly. Even so, she felt the bairn kick her.
Elspeth laughed and brushed her wild, red hair from her face. “She is very particular about her space.” She lovingly smoothed a hand across her stomach. But her green eyes, ever knowing, remained focused on Blaire. “Ye’ve been cryin’.”
That was something warrior witches just didn’t do. Blaire shrugged and walked toward one of Sorcha’s rosebushes. “Somethin’ in my eye, I’m sure.”
Behind her, Elspeth scoffed. “Ye can try ta spin that yarn with someone who hasna kent ye yer whole life.” She walked up behind Blaire and placed a delicate hand on her shoulder. “Cait was terrified somethin’ had happened ta ye. Was she right?”
Blaire sagged forward. With Aiden and the others, she could pretend, but Elspeth could always see right through her. “My life’s a mess. And I doona ken what ta do about any of it.” She swiped at a traitorous tear.
“Tell me, Blaire. I’ll do whatever I can ta help ye.”
She turned to face her friend. “Did ye ken our mothers, all of them, trapped a man and kept him locked up in a castle in the Highlands?
Elspeth’s mouth dropped open. “I beg yer pardon.”
Blaire shook her head. “But he’s no’ really a man. A man couldna have survived such a thing.”
“Then what is he?” Marriage to a Lycan had made Elspeth more accepting of the fantastical than some others might be.
“Would ye believe a vampyre?”
A strange look settled on Elspeth’s face, and she frowned as though trying to remember something. “A vampyre?” Then she looked Blaire straight in the eyes. “I think I remember some talk about a vampyre, but I was so young at the time. Nothin’ is comin’ ta me.”
Blaire nodded. “If ye remember somethin’ about
this
vampyre, ye would’ve only been two or so.”
Elspeth’s green eyes widened. “Two? Do ye mean the man—the vampyre—was locked away for twenty years?”
Blaire sighed. “James remembered they said somethin’ about his future victims, but I canna imagine him ever hurtin’ anyone.” Other than herself, that was. And he couldn’t really be blamed for not loving her, could he?
“James?” Elspeth pounced right on that slip of the tongue. “The vampyre is called James?”
No use going back at this point. “James Maitland, Baron Kettering.”
Her friend smiled. “And would this James be the reason yer life is a mess?”
Blaire eyes dropped to the floor. “Only I would be foolish enough ta lose my heart ta a man who doesna have one ta give me in return.”
Elspeth gently touched her cheek. “Oh, Blaire sweetheart, it canna be that dire. Men are foolish creatures no matter if they’re human or somethin’ else. Ye can trust me on that. I love Benjamin with all my heart, but I’m no’ blind ta his faults. They say things differently than we hear them and vice versa. It’s a miracle we’re even able ta carry on conversations with men.”
Blaire smiled at her friend’s kindness. Elspeth never could stand to see anyone in pain, whether it be physically or otherwise. But there was no smoothing over James’ words to her. He cared for her, but he could never love her. He had said so himself. There wasn’t a lot of room for misunderstanding with such a statement.
“Oh!” Sorcha’s melodic voice came from the doorway. “Ye’re both here already. Have ye seen Rhi?”
“No’ yet,” Elspeth replied and then braced herself for one of Sorcha’s hugs. “No’ so tight—the bairn…”
Sorcha released her instantly. “I’m sorry, El. I forgot myself.” Then she directed them to a table, nearly overflowing with vines and a silver tea service. “Sit, sit. Last night Blaire said somethin’ terrible had happened, and I couldna sleep all night worryin’ about it.”
Blaire looked toward the empty doorway. “Doona ye think we should wait for Rhi?”
Sorcha shook her head, and her perfect brown curls swayed back and forth. “If she wants ta hear things first, she should try bein’ on time.” She gracefully slid into one of the slat-backed chairs and tipped her chin up, daring either of the others to defy her. This was Sorcha’s court after all. “Tea?” She gestured to the pot before her.
Blaire shook her head. Tea would not solve her problems, but she took a seat at the table anyway.
“Now what is this terrible thin’ that happened? Can we do somethin’ about it?”
Blaire sighed. “I’d hoped the five of us could do somethin’ together, but with Cait gone, I doona ken that we can. But I thought ye should all ken what transpired, just the same.”
Elspeth slid into an empty seat around the table, her eyes searching Blaire’s. “Do go on.”
So she told them. She told them about their mothers trapping James decades earlier. She told them about her mother’s ring and how it really belonged to James. She told them about Sarah Reese and how she’d overpowered Blaire. She told them about Padrig Trevelyan and how the man’s gaze terrified her. She told them about James returning to the castle, his clothes bloodied from Alec’s injuries, though she still didn’t have any details about that situation. And she told them about her escape with Aiden and Brannock from Briarcraig and the feeling of foreboding that had followed her ever since.
“I still canna believe our mothers did such a thing!” Sorcha sat back in her seat as though she was affronted. “And no’ ta tell us!”
Elspeth shook her head. “I feel like the answer is just in the recesses of my mind, but I just canna remember it.” She turned her gaze to Sorcha. “Do ye think Wallace might remember somethin’?” Sorcha’s brother was closer to thirty than twenty.
“I doona ken, but I can ask him.”
Not that Blaire held out a lot of hope. Even if Wallace Ferguson knew why their mothers had done such an awful thing, that wouldn’t really solve her current predicament, would it?
Sorcha leaned forward in her seat, her soft brown eyes focused on Blaire. “There’s one thin’ I doona understand from yer tale.”
“And that is?”
“Well, I canna believe the baron just let ye leave Briarcraig.”
Of course, she hadn’t told them every detail, nor did she plan to. “I had a bit of luck on my side.” She’d worn him down by letting him make blissful love to her and then escaped while he slept. Blaire avoided their most interested gazes. “What do ye suppose is keepin’ Rhiannon?” She wasn’t the most punctual of witches, but even this was strange. One would think that after receiving a summons, she would have arrived by
now
.
Just then, the door to the orangery blew open, seemingly almost of its own volition. Rhiannon, followed by a huge gust of wind that lifted Blaire’s hair, bustled through the door. The air nearly crackled with her impatience.
“Oh, my, she does have herself in a bit of a maelstrom,” Sorcha mumbled.
“It would appear so,” Elspeth whispered back dramatically.
Rhiannon wasted no time as she tugged her gloves from her fingers. “Somethin’ is no’ right,” she said quickly as she shook her head with wonder. “I doona ken what it is, but somethin’ is off.”
“Off?” Blaire questioned. “What do ye mean?”
“I have no idea,” Rhiannon said. “But I can feel it on the wind.”
“What do ye feel?” Elspeth asked as she sat forward and rested her chin on the heel of her overturned hand. Rhiannon had always been able to feel trouble brewing. It was unexplainable, but her powers were ripe for any emotional disturbances that didn’t plague the others quite as harshly.
Rhiannon closed her eyes and blew the door open with a heavy breath through pursed lips. Air from outside rushed into the orangery. Rhiannon shivered. “I’ve been tryin’ ta figure it out all mornin’. It’s a blamed nuisance, this gift of mine. Doesna tell me a blasted thing, aside from the fact that
somethin’
is wrong.”
“It followed me home,” Blaire confessed. “I’m so sorry. But I couldna think of any other way.” She blinked back a tear. Battle-born witches did
not
cry.
A drop of water fell onto the top of Blaire’s head. Fantastic. If she cried, of course Rhiannon would sympathize, and then they’d all be a blasted mess.
“Someone tell her a humorous story, will ye?” Blaire said, her voice choked with emotion. “Or we’ll all drown in here, and I find it very difficult to run in wet skirts.”
The small rain cloud evaporated. “And ta think I missed ye,” Rhiannon grumbled.
“Aye, I missed ye, as well,” Blaire admitted. She’d missed them all so much. But not the same way she now missed James.
The story spilled from Blaire’s lips a third time. When Blaire got to the part about Sarah Reese and her desire for Brannock, a lightning bolt flickered within the room, a brief flash of bold color.
“Doona hurt my plants!” Sorcha yelled at Rhiannon.
“My apologies,” Rhiannon mumbled. Then she took a deep breath. “
That’s
what I’m feelin’. He’s here. This man who’s huntin’ ye. He’s in Edinburgh.”
“How do ye ken?” That was a ridiculous question. Yet Blaire found it escaping her lips anyway.
“I just do,” Rhiannon shrugged. “There’s a disturbance in the air. His hatred fuels his quest for ye. And I can feel how much he dislikes that ye’re livin’.”
Blaire jumped to her feet. “I’ll have ta leave. I’ll have ta take my family and go somewhere safe.”
Elspeth shook her head slowly. “And leave the people of Edinburgh ta face his wrath? With only three of us ta fight him? And no’ a battle-born witch among us, once ye’re gone? Ye lost yer mind when ye lost yer heart. When ye lost it all.” Elspeth’s glance moved to Blaire’s neck. Blaire felt a flush move up her cheeks. Certainly, she couldn’t know…
“Do ye need a blast of cool air?” Rhiannon asked quickly as she noticed the heat that suffused Blaire’s face.
“That willna be necessary,” Blaire murmured. She took a deep breath. “We need a strategy. I think the best thing ta do is trap the vampyre and dispose of him.”
“Dispose of him how?” Sorcha asked. Of course, the youngest witch would feel queasy at the thought of killing. But it didn’t bother Blaire one bit.
“We have ta find him first,” Elspeth reminded everyone.
“No’ we,” Rhiannon said quickly. “Ye happen ta have a bairn in yer belly, and we willna put her in danger.”
A male voice broke in from the door of the orangery. “Danger?” Lord Benjamin Westfield asked, his usual wolfish grin missing from his handsome face at the very thought of Elspeth and their bairn being in danger. “Who’s in danger?” he barked.
“No one,” Elspeth soothed as she rose to her feet and crossed to her husband. One of his arms snaked around her waist and drew her to his side as the other hand landed on her belly. They were really so happy that it was nauseating. Yet Blaire still wished she could have what they shared. With James.
Elspeth’s husband peered down into her eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’ll no’ tell this tale again,” Blaire snapped as she stood up as well. “If yer husband wants ta be nosy, El, he can ask ye all the questions he likes. I have huntin’ ta do.”
Elspeth called out to her retreating form, “Doona walk away, Blaire. I need ta ask ye about somethin’.” Her gaze once again settled on Blaire’s neck.
“I doona need yer healin’,” Blaire said quickly. After all, there was no way to heal from the loss of James.
“It’s no’
my
healin’ ye need,” Elspeth said softly. “I’m aware of that. I just want ta be certain ye’re all right.”
“We’ll talk later then.” Blaire started toward the exit.
“Where are ye goin’?” Sorcha wanted to know. “May I come, too?”
Blaire nodded quickly, and Sorcha and Rhiannon fell into step behind her. No doubt, Elspeth would join them as soon as she had spilled the whole story to that beast of hers. Or perhaps not. There wasn’t another man on Earth who was more overprotective than Benjamin Westfield. And that could be a blessing in disguise. Elspeth would pull every detail Blaire had kept tucked closely to her chest and spill them all across the floor. She wasn’t in a hurry to divulge such secrets to anyone, not even caring, generous Elspeth.
***
As soon as James arrived in Edinburgh, Arthur’s Seat called to him like a beacon. He wasn’t certain how to go about finding his witch in the city, but she hunted like a man, shot like a man, and fought like a man. The main peak of the hills in the southern corner of the city seemed like a place she would have spent time. Looking there was most certainly a waste of time, but he didn’t know where else to start.
He plopped Bruce the cat back into the traveling valise, and the pair of them left Matthew’s coachman at the base of the hills, promising to return soon.
Fresh Scottish air seeped into James’ lungs as he climbed the Seat, an experience that still amazed him after centuries of not breathing. Finally, he stood at the top of Arthur’s Seat and looked down at picturesque Edinburgh below. The sun warmed his hair, and the wind danced across his neck. His heart beat a quick rhythm inside his chest, slightly overtaxed by the climb up the largest hill. But it was a glorious feeling to hear his blood pumping within his veins.
A plaintive wail reached out to him from the valise at his side. His little feline companion was not a contented traveler. More than once along the journey, the cat had screamed loudly enough that James was looked upon with curiosity. He’d be very happy when he could return the cat to Brannock Lindsay. No doubt the ugly creature would be happy to be free of rocking coaches, as well, James was certain.
Freedom. It was something James had never expected to feel. He’d always assumed, from the moment of his first death, that he’d forever be tied to the need for a life source not of his own making, that he would never lead a
normal
life. It was simply unfathomable that his heart now beat. That he was human. That he was free to love as he chose. To age. To have a family. And he owed it all to Blaire.