It Happened One Bite (7 page)

“Some bonds are difficult to break,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. “Thank heavens.”

Blaire touched a finger to her hidden ring and toyed with it absently as she trailed behind the baron.

When she reached the great hall, she stopped dead in her tracks. But Kettering didn’t. He nearly flew into the man who stood in the entryway beside her brother. The two men clasped hands tightly, and it almost looked as though they both took a long, deep breath together.

“He said he was lookin’ for Lord Kettering,” Brannock announced proudly.

“And do ye ken just who ye’ve admitted inta our home?” Blaire eyed her young brother with a raised brow.

“Pardon me, Captain Lindsay,” Kettering said after he coughed lightly into his hand and cleared his throat. Was the man emotional? A better question would be what was the bond between these men? She’d find that out, too. “This is my oldest and dearest friend, Matthew Halkett, the Earl of Blodswell.”

Aiden extended his hand. “It’s nice ta meet ye,” he said warily. Aiden had good instincts, even if he wasn’t magical. Of course, he sensed that something was amiss.

Blaire made a noise. A very unladylike noise.

“And the lovely lady?” the earl asked, gesturing toward Blaire. His dark gaze slid across her, disturbing in the same way Kettering’s was but different. Only she couldn’t discern the difference. It was there, but Blaire couldn’t name it.

“This is Miss Blaire Lindsay, the captain’s sister.” The baron stepped closer to her as he spoke and even closer when the earl bowed in her direction. Blodswell raised an eyebrow a fraction. Only a fraction. But she noticed it.

Then Kettering introduced Brannock, who preened under the attention.

“I never thought I’d find you,” Blodswell muttered under his breath to Kettering, but Blaire heard the admission anyway.

“I feared you wouldn’t, either, old friend, but I am happy to see you.” The camaraderie between the two was real. That much was obvious.

“If it’s quite all right with your friends, perhaps we could stroll the grounds for a time. I do have something to discuss with you, James,” the earl said. “Although I do hate to interrupt dinner. Something smells delightful here,” he said as he inhaled deeply. His dark gaze danced across Blaire, making her shiver.

Kettering stepped closer to her, and his brow furrowed. Strange. Very strange.

“Aiden’s mutton stew is nothing ta boast about.” Brannock inhaled deeply and then groaned. “It doesna even smell appetizin’, sir. But we’re gettin’ servants tomorrow.”

“Ye are welcome ta stay,” Aiden said hesitantly. “For dinner.”

Blaire punched his arm. “Invite them both ta stay the night,” she hissed at him. “Now.”

“Why the devil would I—” he began to say, until she stomped on his instep. Hard. “Bloody hell, Blaire. What is wrong with ye?”

The earl stepped to the door and opened it. Kettering scurried out of the sunlight with a wince, moving into the shadows as he’d done earlier. “On second thought,” the earl said, shutting the door, “perhaps we could beg some privacy in one of the Lindsays’ parlors instead. Just for a short time so we can become reacquainted.”

“Aiden!” Blaire hissed again. If Aiden didn’t ask soon, she’d overstep the bounds of propriety and invite them herself. Damn it all to hell. She couldn’t allow them to leave Briarcraig. Not until she knew why Kettering had been trapped and locked up. She glanced at the handsome earl beside her brother. He was just as dangerous as the baron, if she wasn’t mistaken.

“Ask them!” She glared at her brother. Aiden pursed his lips together. Stubborn man. Fine, she’d take matters into her own hands. “We’d love ta have ye both as our guests here at Briarcraig,” Blaire blurted. “I’ll go and prepare another room for the earl.”

Blodswell bowed swiftly. “I’d be honored to be your guest, Miss Lindsay.”

He cut a fine figure and was honestly a gentleman. What else he was, she had no idea. But she planned to find out.

“Where is your ring?” was the first thing out of Blodswell’s mouth when they finally found themselves alone. They’d talked about inanities the entire time the witch lurked in the corridor eavesdropping. They’d both known she was there. Finally, her brother had retrieved her with a stern word. Her cursing in response made Matthew smile.

James held up his hand and rubbed his ring finger. “I have no idea. It wasn’t there when I woke up.”

“It’s nearby. That much is obvious.”

“Is it?” James swung around quickly to face him. “How do you know that?”

“It connects us. If it’s lost to you, we lose the connection. I lost you for twenty years, old friend. I thought you were dead.”

“I may as well have been. I slept for two decades, Matt, thanks to your blasted coven.”

“
My
coven?” Blodswell placed a hand over his heart and opened his mouth in mock-astonishment. “When did the
Còig
become
my
coven? The last I heard, they were an entity unto themselves.”

“They’re a force to be reckoned with,” James grunted. “They attacked me.”

“Why would they do such a thing? It’s not like them to take action lightly.” His eyes narrowed. “What did you do? Did you attempt to entrance one of them?”

“Of course not,” James scoffed. “I was standing outside an inn, minding my own business and enjoying a perfectly lovely cheroot.”

“Stalking prey, in other words,” Matthew said with a nod. “Since you have no need to inhale.”

No, James had no need to inhale, and Matthew had taught him the little trick with smoking. It made them appear more human if they adopted some of man’s more basic habits. “I may not need to inhale it, but I can still taste it,” James muttered.

Matthew gestured at him impatiently. “That’s neither here nor there. I’d like to hear your tale, James.”

And James was ready to tell it to someone he trusted. “The night had just fallen.”

“And you were thirsty?”

“Yes, I suppose I was. A lovely young woman, one who resembles Miss Lindsay quite closely, by the way, approached me. The night was incredibly foggy, so foggy I could barely see my hand in front of my face, but I could see her. Very clearly. Actually, there were two of them.”

“A moment,” Matthew said quickly. “You say one of them looked like Miss Lindsay? The captain’s sister?” He gestured toward the corridor.

“An amazing resemblance,” James confirmed. “The silver eyes. The raven hair.”

Matthew frowned. “Go on.”

“Well,” James snapped his fingers, “just like that the fog lifted, and there were five of them. Then the next thing I remember, I woke up locked in a dank cellar of this castle, which I believe to be somewhere in the Scottish Highlands.”

“In the middle of nowhere,” Matthew confirmed. His dark gaze raked across James. “You haven’t been outside yet?”

James held up his hand and once again pointed out the absence of his ring. “I’ve never been suicidal.”

“No, you have not.” A small smile curved Matthew’s lips. “Tell me, have you fed? You’re looking quite pale.”

“Not yet.” James tugged at his waistcoat.

“But the lovely Miss Lindsay,” Matthew began.

“Is an innocent,” James snarled. Even he was surprised by the amount of bite that was present behind his growl. What should he care where his next meal came from? And the woman had been nothing but a thorn in his side since she’d freed him. Yet she
had
freed him, and she did have the loveliest silver eyes.

“It’s like that, is it?” A corner of Matthew’s mouth lifted as he turned and adjusted a crooked painting on the wall.

“Go to the devil, Matt,” James replied, but he wasn’t able to keep the smile from his face any better than Matthew had. Blodswell could read him. Hell, he could
feel
him.

“The
Còig
is a benevolent lot, James. They do not act lightly, and they do not tempt the fates. Everything they do is done with purpose. I can’t think of any reason why they would imprison you and steal your ring. There is something we don’t know.”

Though what it was, James had no idea. He clucked his tongue as he rolled the thought over in his mind.

“Does Miss Lindsay have powers?” Matthew suddenly asked. “Have you seen any evidence that she’s magical?”

She didn’t make an effort to hide the fact. “Fireballs in her own hand. She hides daggers about her person. And wields them with stealth and purpose.”

“How the devil do you know that?”

“Because she nearly unmanned me with one when I had the nerve to kiss her.”

“And therein lies the crux of the matter.” Matthew whistled softly.

“She’s a means to an end. Nothing more. I need her so I can find the other witches.” He needed to find out why they’d stolen twenty years of his life.

Matthew folded his arms across his chest. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but if Miss Lindsay has verifiable powers, and you say she does?” He waited for a nod from James. “Then the witches you seek cannot be found.”

Matthew’s statement didn’t make one bit of sense. He couldn’t possibly know that. “I beg your pardon.”

“There’s only one
Còig
.”

“Thank God,” James muttered. They were a menace. He couldn’t imagine more than one malicious coven running loose.

“The powers pass from the mother to the eldest daughter, though not fully until the mother’s death.”

James groaned aloud. “You’re saying the witches who imprisoned me are…
dead
?”

“More than likely, all of them,” Matthew confirmed. “Unless I am mistaken, I have already met their current seer, a Miss Macleod. Breathtaking lass, like her mother. Her powers were amazingly strong. They’d have to be considering the company she keeps.”

None of this made any sense to James, but he listened and nodded his head for his maker to continue.

“It’s only that way when the coven is complete,” Matthew explained. “Not a mix of one generation with the next, but with the women who are supposed to be linked together. In fact, when the first witch goes, the others are often not far behind.”

What horrible news. James scrubbed a hand down his face. “I’ll never know why they did it then.”

Matthew shrugged. “Not necessarily. Miss Lindsay can fill in the missing details. One generation of witches trains the next.”

“But the lass acts as though she doesn’t know a thing.” Was it an act? She didn’t seem the sort. Subterfuge didn’t seem to be in her nature; she was much more direct than that.

“Looks can be deceiving, my friend. I’m certain you didn’t expect her beautiful mother to be all that she was when you encountered her, either.”

“Obviously,” James snorted.

“We need to get you fed, or you’ll soon wilt like a flower in a glass.”

“My options are a bit limited just now.” He once again held up his hand and wiggled his fingers at his friend. “So, we’ll hunt tonight? When darkness falls?”

“I saw some sheep in the valley.”

James made a face. Mutton was bad enough in stew. He still couldn’t shake the awful smell of Captain Lindsay’s cooking.

“A spotted calf?”

“Would be better than
sheep
.”

“Miss Lindsay had an enticing scent,” Matthew muttered.

“She is not on the menu.”

“Something tells me you could easily add ‘not yet’ to the end of that statement and have it still be true.”

“I’ll be done with Miss Lindsay today. Find out what she knows, and then we can leave for England as soon as we’ve dined.” He turned toward the door to exit the room, but Matthew sighed and grabbed his friend’s shoulder.

“I see two problems with your plan, James.” That sigh did not bode well for James’ ambitions.

“Which are?” Matthew was almost as bad as the witches with his riddles and open-ended statements.

“Your ring is nearby. Without it, you’re doomed to a life of darkness. It must be found.”

“You haven’t any others, have you?” James hoped aloud.

“You know I haven’t. I was given three. Thrice blessed and all that.”

“One of which you wasted on Sarah.” If only he could get his hands on it. But to do so, he’d have to cross her path, and life in darkness was preferable.

“It wasn’t wasted, not at the time anyway. And everything was perfectly fine for decades upon decades until
you
finally broke her heart.”

James scoffed. “One must have a heart for it to break.”

Matthew heaved an unnecessary sigh. “Not this again.”

James didn’t relish the argument, either. Matthew insisted they still possessed hearts, but James disagreed. The subject had been discussed to death, and neither of them would ever change his mind. “No, not now. I don’t have it in me.”

Matthew nodded, a look of relief on his face. “But speaking of Sarah, she’s your second problem.”

She always had been a problem. But that wasn’t what Matthew meant, James was certain. “Beg your pardon?”

“If I can sense you, James, so can she.”

“She’ll come here and wreak havoc upon anyone in the vicinity.” James smacked himself with the heel of his hand on his forehead out of frustration. Would he never be free of the vindictive wench?

“Hell hath no fury and all that,” Matthew answered his unasked question. “And there’s another problem.”

“I thought you said there were
two
problems?” James didn’t know how much more he could take. Sarah, for God’s sake. “One more makes three.”

Matthew tugged a piece of lint from his jacket. “Well, actually the last two are connected. Perhaps you’ve forgotten that Sarah had thrown her lot in with Padrig Trevelyan before your little nap?”

James honestly tried not to think of either of them. Ever.

“They are still in one another’s pockets. They’ll be traveling together.”

James winced. Perhaps it would be best to go back to sleep for another decade or two. “Too late to stop them, I suppose.”

“Most assuredly. I’ve not seen her in years, but I can still feel her well enough. She comes in this direction.”

And was bringing with her the most vengeful vampyre of James’ acquaintance. He shook his head. If anyone should have been imprisoned, Padrig Trevelyan was the one the five blasted witches should have captured and hidden away for safe keeping. He was a creature who killed not for sustenance or survival but to ruin as many lives as he could touch. He cursed himself anew for having created the monster.

“But since she and Trevelyan are together, she can only travel at night. So we do have a bit of time to find your ring and be gone.”

“I don’t suppose either of them have decided they hate me less since I vanished?” Wishful thinking, he knew, but he couldn’t help but ask.

Matthew shook his head. “Sorry, old friend. More annoyed that someone else had dared to end your existence before they got the chance.”

Perfect. His two-decade nap had done nothing to solve his problems. He was exactly where he started when that damned coven had encountered him, except now he didn’t have his ring.

***

Blaire paced her chamber back and forth, listening for any sounds from their guests’ quarters. But there’d been none for the last hour. The two gentlemen had actually
gone out
. Who went out at night during the winter in the bloody Highlands? The wind alone was enough to freeze a man. Nothing the two of them did made a bit of sense. She blew the hair out of her eyes in frustration. What she wouldn’t give to have her coven sisters with her! Together they could sort out this mystery.

But they weren’t there, and they wouldn’t be coming to help her. Elspeth was in Hampshire, and Cait was either with her or on her way back to Edinburgh. At the most, she could beg Rhiannon and Sorcha to attend her, but unless the five of them were together, it wouldn’t do any good. She had no one’s power to depend on but her own.

She was all alone in this, and she’d never felt so powerless. Why would her mother and the others capture Kettering? There had to be a reason. Since the previous
Còig
had apparently done something of this magnitude, why didn’t she know of it? Why hadn’t her mother passed on the knowledge and information like she had everything else?

Well, she didn’t know for a fact that her mother had passed everything on, did she? Blaire hadn’t even known Briarcraig existed a fortnight ago. Yet it was the ancestral seat of the battle-born witches. Her birthright. What else had her mother kept secret, and why? How was she to know what to do if she didn’t know what she was up against?

Blaire sat down on the edge of her bed and tugged Kettering’s gold watch from her pocket. It was a beautiful piece with an ornate griffin engraved on the case. She ran her fingers over the regal beast, the symbol of the valiant soldier. After a moment, she clicked open the spring-hinged cover and stared at the dial adorned in rubies, so red they looked like blood against the white face.

She’d stolen the man’s watch. What the devil was she thinking? She couldn’t perform a discovery ceremony alone. She’d need the others to be successful. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Blaire dropped the watch onto her bed and then moved across the room to open her trunk. She tossed a few old chemises and a tattered Lindsay plaid out of the way, and then retrieved a small, black cauldron. On her hands and knees, she scrounged around the bottom looking for the necessary ingredients and began to collect little glass bottles.

Alfalfa. No. She tossed it aside.

Rum. She shook her head, searching for another bottle.

Bayberry leaves. She growled, never having been the most patient member of the coven.

Pomegranate seeds. Perfect. One down, two to go.

After emptying the contents of the trunk, she finally had everything she needed. She poured a spot of water from her pitcher into the cauldron and then added the pomegranate seeds and a healthy amount of dried witch grass and pepper. Blaire lit a beeswax candle and trickled the wax over the rim of the cauldron.

She dusted her hands on her dress and doubted Elspeth could have done it better. So far, so good. She hung the cauldron on a handle above the fire in her hearth and planted herself beside it.