It Happened One Bite (11 page)

The dark-haired gentleman caught her close to him, a huge smile upon his face. James tried to tamp down his feelings of imminent destruction.

The man was tall, his eyes shining with something James had lost decades ago—a kindhearted soul. It shone through in every move the man made, from his impromptu hug with Blaire to his ruffle of Brannock’s hair.

James didn’t like him. Not one little bit. In fact, if he didn’t remove his arm from around Blaire’s shoulders, James would remove it for him. Right off her shoulders. Off his body, in fact. James took a step toward them.

“MacQuarrie!” the captain bellowed from behind him, where he and Matthew had entered the great hall. The captain rushed forward, his voice full of friendly camaraderie. “What brings ye ta Briarcraig?”

“It’s quite a long tale, actually,” the man hedged, his gaze sliding across James and Matthew in a most peculiar way. The newcomer apparently had a secret, something he didn’t want everyone to know.

James coughed into his hand, which earned him a scowl from Matthew. Did Blodswell think he would just stand by while someone put his hands on Blaire? Without even learning the man’s identity? How ridiculous.

“I believe we’ve met once before.” Matthew spoke up from beside him.

They had? What the devil?

“Blodswell?” the man asked, surprise lighting his face. “What a coincidence.”

“You were traveling with a woman the last time I saw you,” Matthew remarked.

That blasted MacQuarrie nodded and gazed down at Blaire. “I was with Caitrin.”

Blaire’s eyebrows drew together, but she squelched the gesture when he blinked hard at her. Oh, that was not good, whatever it was. A red rage clouded the corners of James’ vision.

Blaire chimed in, “Lord Kettering, I’d like for ye ta meet Alec MacQuarrie, a dear friend from Edinburgh.”

“I’d love to meet him, if he could take his arm from around your shoulders long enough to shake my hand.”

A tinkling laugh that wasn’t the least bit genuine escaped Blaire’s lips. MacQuarrie didn’t remove his arm from around Blaire’s shoulders, but he reached to take James’ hand anyway. James wanted to knock it away, but he clasped it in his own. “Nice to make your acquaintance,” he muttered.

“My lord,” the Scot replied, eyeing him suspiciously.

Jealousy bubbled within James like steam in a cast-iron kettle.

“Kettering, let’s allow them some privacy, shall we? I’ve something I’d like to show you.” Matthew’s hand on his shoulder brooked no argument. If James didn’t have such respect for his maker, he’d have refused.

He bowed lightly to Blaire and turned on his heel. “What the devil did you want to show me that’s so bloody important?” he hissed as they walked down the corridor.

“Not a damn thing,” Matthew answered calmly. “I just wanted to keep you from thrashing the poor man. It would not suit your purpose to be removed from Briarcraig, not at the moment anyway. The sun is high in the sky, or have you forgotten?”

Frustrated, James raked a hand through his hair. Who the devil was this MacQuarrie fellow, and why had he come all the way from Edinburgh? He pulled Matthew into the closest parlor and shooed a new maid from the room. As soon as they were alone, he glared at his maker. “All right, let’s have it. Where did you meet MacQuarrie? And what do you know about him?”

Matthew cocked his head to one side, a small frown forming on his face. “You’re not behaving like yourself in the least. Is this all due to Miss Lindsay? Or is something else wrong with you?”

“MacQuarrie!” James gritted out, his patience trickling away like sand in an hourglass.

“Very well.” Matthew shook his head and then slid into an old high-backed chair. “I was near the border, and I bumped into Mr. MacQuarrie’s traveling companion, Miss Macleod, or rather she bumped into me. You remember I mentioned her, the
Còig
’s current seer?”

One of the other witches. James rubbed his temple. Was that important? Then he remembered the rest of Matthew’s tale. “You said the seer keeps dangerous company?” And he’d just left Blaire with the blackguard. He started back for the door.

“Wait!” Matthew ordered. Then he gestured to an old threadbare settee. “Sit down before you go mad.”

“But you said—”

“I didn’t mean MacQuarrie.” His friend sighed. “Miss Macleod’s beast was not with her when our paths crossed. But I saw evidence of him on her neck.”

“One of us?” James finally dropped into the seat across from his friend.

Matthew shook his head. “No. Something different. The mark was not one of ours. I’m not certain what it was.”

“But you have a guess?”

“If I had to guess, I would say it was Lycan.”

A werewolf? The coven was consorting with werewolves! “And MacQuarrie?”

“Harmless,” Matthew supplied. “A scholar, would you believe it? Told me the tale of Sir Matthew Halkett, the very first Earl of Blodswell. Quite a knowledgeable fellow, actually.”

So all it had taken was MacQuarrie waxing poetic about Matthew’s feats of bravery to win the earl to his side. James scowled at his friend. Traitorous vampyre.

“Enough of this. MacQuarrie is not your problem,” Matthew continued, leveling his most serious look on James. “Did you have any luck with Miss Lindsay?”

The best sort of luck. James remembered holding her against him, the taste of her on his tongue. Though he wasn’t anxious to divulge such things to Matthew. “Miss Lindsay?”

The earl looked at him as though he was the most inept creature. “I hauled Captain Lindsay away so you could try to engage her assistance in finding your ring. Does any of that sound familiar?”

Of course, that’s what he meant, but just Blaire’s sweet scent had wiped his mind of all purpose. “I didn’t get a chance to ask.”

Matthew leaned forward in his seat. “I’ve never seen you lose your head like this before, James. And you’re going to need it, if we’re to find your ring and depart before Sarah and Trevelyan arrive.”

Sarah Reese and Padrig Trevelyan. How could he have forgotten them? Because Blaire made him forget everything except for her.

Blaire…

Panic shot through James. “We can’t leave.”

Matthew sighed impatiently. “I know you’ve developed an attachment for the chit, but—”

“What do you think Trevelyan will do if he arrives here to find us departed?”

Realization dawned on Matthew’s face. “The Lindsays and everyone else at Briarcraig.”

“We can’t leave,” James repeated. “I won’t leave everyone here to face the two of them alone.”

When James and the earl quit the great hall, the breath rushed from Blaire’s lungs. She turned her gaze to Alec MacQuarrie, whom she still couldn’t believe stood beside her, his arm draped companionably around her shoulders. Having him there was surreal in so many ways. There were places one expected to find Alec—a cozy study, a well-lit library, or chasing after Caitrin’s skirts. However, seeing him at Briarcraig seemed completely out of place.

She slid from his hold. “Did ye say somethin’ about Cait?” Had something happened to her friend? Blaire’s pulse began to race at the thought.

Alec winced a bit and then looked at both her brothers. “I need to speak with you.”

Mo chreach
, it was worse than she’d thought. Blaire clutched at her heart. “What is it, MacQuarrie? Just tell me.”

He met her eyes but spoke to Aiden. “Lindsay, do you mind giving me a moment with your sister?”

“Whatever it is, MacQuarrie,” Aiden began, “we Lindsays doona have any secrets from each other.”

Blaire nodded in agreement. “Please just tell us what’s wrong.”

He frowned. “No secrets?”

“None,” she confirmed. Well, she hadn’t told Aiden the truth about James, but that was an entirely different matter than whatever
this
was.

“They know what you are?” he whispered.

The better question was how did Alec know what she was? “And just what am I?”

“Caitrin confessed the truth of it.”

That didn’t make one bit of sense. Coven members didn’t discuss their powers or admit to being witches except to their own families. It just wasn’t done. It was too dangerous otherwise. But Cait had apparently told all to MacQuarrie. “Did she finally accept yer proposal?” That was the only thing Blaire could come up with to explain his sudden knowledge.

But as soon as the words left her lips, she knew she was wrong. Poor Alec looked as though he’d been hit in the stomach. He managed to shake his head.

“Then I doona ken what ye’re referrin’ ta.”

Alec sighed. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Blaire Lindsay. The only thing that surprises me is that I didn’t realize it earlier. The
Còig
was in front of my own nose for years, and I never put it together. You with your archery and sword fighting. Elspeth and her healing touch. I never did understand Rhiannon, who doesn’t have the sense to come in out of the rain. Sorcha and her plants. And Caitrin…”

There was that look again, as though he’d lost his very best friend in the world. “Has somethin’ happened ta Cait?” Why was the man being so tight-lipped? She’d never professed to have patience, but MacQuarrie’s equivocation was enough to drive her mad.

He straightened his shoulders, but a frown settled on his face. “I’m sure she’s happy in her new role. At least she assured me she would be.”

“Her new role?”

He inclined his head with a tight nod. “Aye. I left before the nuptials, but I am certain that by now she is the Countess of Brimsworth.” He took a steadying breath and focused on Blaire. “But that’s not why I’m here, lass. Cait sent me, you see—”

“Who the devil is Brimsworth?” Raking her brain, she couldn’t recall ever hearing the name, not even anything similar. Cait had married some stranger? In the few days Blaire was gone? She couldn’t quite believe it. In fact, she thought she might faint, something she’d never done in her life. “I always thought she’d marry ye.”

“So did I,” he said quietly.

“Who is this man?”

Alec heaved a sigh. “Brimsworth is a fellow she met in England, heir to a wealthy marquessate, evidently. But, honestly, Blaire, I’d rather not discuss that particular situation, if you don’t mind. That’s not why she sent me.”

Aiden stepped forward and steadied Blaire with his hand, though his eyes never left MacQuarrie. “Why
are
ye here? And why did Caitrin confide the truth ta ye?” No matter their differences, Lindsays supported each other, and at the moment she was very grateful for her older brother.

“Cait had a vision.” Alec focused on Blaire. “You’re in danger. She sent me to warn you.”

“In danger?” Aiden echoed, clearly concerned.

“What vision?” Blaire pressed forward. “What did she see?”

MacQuarrie shook his head as though he didn’t believe it himself. “A monster,” he admitted. “She said it was a monster with black eyes, coming for you. A
dead
monster. I don’t know any more than that. She said the visions aren’t always clear, but she was nearly hysterical with whatever she did see.”

It must have terrified her if she had confided the secret of their coven’s existence to MacQuarrie. Black eyes? A vision of James flashed in her mind, but she shook the thought away. She wasn’t certain what he was, but he wouldn’t ever hurt her. At least she didn’t think so. He might kiss her into oblivion, but the man was
alive
. She was fairly certain parts of him were, in any event. A blush crept up her cheeks at the thought.

***

James nearly dragged Matthew from room to room in his search for his missing ring. They moved from parlor to parlor, from kitchen to retiring room, from the library to the dungeon and every bedchamber they stumbled across. His ring was nowhere to be found. They’d upended beds, rifled through wardrobes, and knocked on walls, looking for secret openings. They’d scared one of the new maids to death, or nearly. Fortunately, Matthew still possessed his ability to enchant humans, or she’d have brought the whole household down on their heads.

Just as the sun began to sink in the sky, James finally pushed to his feet from the floor of the last bedchamber, dusted himself off, and sighed heavily. “It’s not here,” he complained.

“It has to be,” Matthew insisted quietly. “It’s here somewhere. If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to feel your presence. You wouldn’t have awoken.” They turned to walk down the long corridor that led to their own chambers.

“When, exactly, did you begin to feel my presence?” James asked.

“I assume it was when you woke,” Matthew said with a shrug of his shoulders. Then he turned toward James quickly and stopped. “
Of course
, it was when you woke.”

“I don’t understand.” And he didn’t, not any of it. If this mess became any more tangled, James would never find his ring, would never see sunlight again.

“You slept for nearly two decades, correct?”

James could see the story unwinding in Matthew’s mind. “I assume so,” he said slowly, beginning to catch on. “I woke when the Lindsays arrived.” He rolled it around in his mind. What an idiot he’d been! “When my
ring
arrived,” he growled.

“I can’t think of any other way it could have happened,” Matthew agreed. “The rings tie us together. Mine allows me to feel you, and vice versa. The only way I wouldn’t feel you would be if there was a great distance between you and your ring.”

“Such as the distance between Briarcraig Castle and Edinburgh?” The distance between the witch’s residence and his prison. The distance between her comfortable home and the damp walls of the cellar where he’d lost twenty years of his life-after-death.

“Evidently.” Matthew looked truly shocked at his own discovery. “It would make sense.”

Sense? Nothing made sense. Why he’d been attacked. Why he’d been locked up. Why his ring had been taken. None of it. “Where could it be?” he asked, more of himself than Matthew. They’d searched the castle from top to bottom, including the bedchambers occupied by the Lindsays.

“The stables, perhaps,” his friend suggested. “We haven’t looked outside.”

Well, that was true. They had vast acreage yet to search. But something about that didn’t feel right. Why would the Lindsays return to Briarcraig, bringing with them the key to James’ escape, and then leave it lying about the property unguarded?

They wouldn’t, of course.

It would be protected, and who better to protect it than a battle-born witch?

A sinking feeling hit James squarely in the gut. “You said the mothers trained their daughters, the next generation?”

Matthew confirmed this with a nod.

“Then she
must
have it.” She must have known all along. But what game was she playing with him? James intended to find out.

He stormed from the musty bedchamber and stalked down the corridor toward the rounded staircase, ignoring Matthew’s warnings that he stop and think. He’d been thinking long enough, all day on his hands and knees searching for something he’d never find because
she
had it all along.

James could hear her tinkling laugh on the main level, and he followed it down the steps and to a small parlor at the end of one corridor. Furious, he tossed the doors open and burst inside. Everything went quiet. An old fellow with wispy, white hair and two golden-haired lasses sat across from Blaire and the MacQuarrie fellow. All of them stared at James as though he’d sprouted horns and a forked tail.

“Blaire.” James didn’t even try to hide the growl in his voice. “A word, if you don’t mind.”

A warm fire blazed in the hearth, lighting the room with warmth, but James could only feel the chill in Blaire Lindsay’s stare. Well, damn her. He didn’t care what she thought of his manners at the moment.

When she rose from her place on the divan, Mr. MacQuarrie stood as well. “Ah, Kettering,” the interloper began smoothly, “we wondered where you had gotten off to.”

James didn’t even spare the man a glance. He only had eyes for the warrior witch who gestured to the newcomers. “Lord Kettering, allow me ta introduce our neighbors—Mr. Fyfe, the local magistrate, and his daughters, Miss Fyfe and Miss Crissa. And this,” she waved her hand toward James, “is Baron Kettering of Derbyshire.”

Both girls sucked in breaths at the mention of his title, and one of them actually twittered.

“Pleasure,” he growled. “And now, Miss Lindsay, I’ll have that word.”

“Ah, but dinner awaits,” MacQuarrie interjected.

Dinner indeed. James leveled Blaire with his most scathing gaze. If she didn’t hand over his ring, he’d just as soon dine on her. Matthew’s rules be damned. “Why don’t you escort the nice lasses into the dining room and tell the captain we’ll be right along.”

MacQuarrie squared his shoulders and stood his ground. “Under the circumstances, my lord, I think it would be best for us all to go in together.”

Blaire’s brow furrowed as though she was working through a difficult arithmetic problem in her head. Then she met MacQuarrie’s eyes. “It’s all right, Alec. I’m certain Lord Kettering and I will be right behind ye.”

James barely managed not to snort.

“But, Blaire,” MacQuarrie continued, “I don’t think it’s wise—”

“
Havers
, Alec!” She laughed, though it sounded hollow to James’ ears. “I can certainly take care of myself, as ye well ken.”

That seemed to appease the interfering Scot, and he slightly inclined his head before offering his arm to one of the golden-haired lasses, the one who twittered. Then he directed the Fyfes from the parlor, even if it was a bit reluctantly.

Blaire folded her arms across her chest and scowled at James.
She
was annoyed with
him
? “Just what do ye think ye’re doin’? Stompin’ around, barkin’ orders? Actin’ like the lord of the manor? I doona even like those lasses, but the way ye’re behavin’ is inexcusable.”

The last thing James wanted was to hear her chastise his behavior. It was beyond the pale, considering everything her coven had done to him. Before he could stop himself, he stormed across the floor and backed her against the far wall. He ignored the gasp that escaped her and tipped her chin back so that she had to look him in the eyes. “I want my ring, and I will not wait any longer for it.”

“Ring?” she sputtered.

Her innocent grey eyes blinked at him. Beneath that beautiful exterior lay a witch. A very devious one at that. “Don’t play me for a fool, Blaire. I
know
you have it, and I want it back. Now.”

She pushed at his chest with a strength he’d never found in a woman before, and he stumbled back a few steps before finding his feet. He advanced on her, but a fireball burst to life in her palm and she looked prepared to engulf him in flames. He stopped inches from her, just as she pulled her arm back to throw her fire, and he stepped back.

“I doona ken what ye’re talkin’ about, Kettering, but this evenin’ is difficult enough without ye makin’ it worse.”

The liar. He glared at her as he tried to figure out how to disarm her. “You thought to distract me with your pretty eyes and silky hair, and it almost worked. But I
do
need my ring to go on with my life, and nothing will make me forget that.”

***

Blaire could only gape at him. She had no idea what he was so angry about. He looked positively enraged, and, for a brief instant, Cait’s warning echoed in her mind.
A monster with black eyes
. Surely it couldn’t be James. It couldn’t be. Though, at the moment, he didn’t seem remotely like the James she had known these past few days. He barely resembled the man who was so easy to smile and who kissed her until her mind spun. He seemed something else entirely. Something dangerous.

“On my honor, Kettering, I have no idea what ye’re about.”

“My ring,” he gritted out, wiggling the fingers of his right hand. “I know you have it.”

“I think ye’ve taken leave of yer senses, my lord. I found yer
pocket fob
, but I have no’ laid eyes on yer ring. I doona even ken what it looks like. I offered ta help ye, but ye’ve told me nothin’.”

“Don’t pretend with me.” He stalked toward her, and Blaire lifted her ball of fire higher so he wouldn’t forget the power she held. “You know your mother and the others attacked me. Deny it.”

She could not. Blaire shook her head. “I suspected as much, and I’d very much like to ken why.”

“Suspected.” He snorted. “I have it on the highest authority that one generation of witches trains the next. Which means
you
know exactly why they attacked me.
You
know why they stashed me away in this godforsaken castle. And
you
have my bloody ring.”