The MacGregor (17 page)

‘So,' said Megan, ‘she'd have, what, about six hours for sleep through the day when the sun is at its most potent.'

It was true. But still, it seemed far-fetched. ‘So, why would Ginny choose to work for me in the first place? I mean, surely she'd have other options. If she is a vampyre, well, she'd be like you…different.' Sean took a second to congratulate himself on his tact.

Unfortunately, Megan did not seem to share his sentiments. He took an involuntary step back. She had not transformed but for the first time he could clearly see the beast that lurked just below her skin.

‘Megan, what the hell's the matter?'

She growled and snarled. The vixen cub whined. Megan stalked up to Sean, who held himself in place through sheer willpower.

‘Don't,' she hissed, ‘ever — say — that — again. I am not like them! I am not like a Campbell. They are murderous, unscrupulous and disgusting.' She looked at him then, and to his dismay a lone tear oozed over the rim of her russet eyelashes and meandered down the freckled span of her nose.

This moved him in a way that her aggression could not. That tear, that tiny salty sphere, spoke more about Megan than anything else he'd witnessed. It spoke of her humanity. And, in that moment, Sean knew that he was lost. That tear sealed the deal. All his reserve evaporated like mist. He loved her.

With one finger he gently dried her nose. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. He could feel the tension in her body but suddenly she relaxed. And then her hands crept around his shoulders to his back, and her head fell upon his chest. And she was holding him tight. He dropped his face to her head and breathed her in.

‘Do you want to talk about it?'

She went still, except for the staccato beat of her heart. Then she lifted her head and met his eyes. ‘I think I must,' she said. ‘Because, you see, you are in terrible danger. I don't know why the Campbells are camped on your front door, but I know it's bad news.'

He reluctantly released her. He believed her utterly. ‘You'd best tell me then.'

But suddenly they both turned to look west. It was faint, but it was there, a muffled scream. And then soft sobbing. Sean felt sick.

Megan's face was grim. She lifted one golden eyebrow in silent communication. He nodded and fell in behind her along the mossy bank of the stream. Conversation was going to have to wait. And it looked like sleep was off the agenda too.

What the hell?

In the darkness of the hunting cabin Callum Campbell hunched over in despair. He was filled with a self-loathing that left him utterly wrung out. For a long time he sat, unwilling to acknowledge the scene of chaos around him. But even with his eyes closed he could not shut out the scent of his own perversion.

He groaned and dropped his face into his hands. A strangled sob escaped his mouth as the boy's delicate essence vied with the other aromas that lingered in the atmosphere.

And, even with his eyes shut, he could still see him. So young. So tender. So irresistibly sexy. And so dead.

He forced himself to stand and switch on the lamp. Cordelia would not be far away. Poor smitten Cordelia. He knew he was cruel to her, but he could not dredge up any genuine remorse. His own abject suffering suffocated everything else.

With bitter resignation he looked around. It could have been worse. It often was. This one had arrived so willingly that it had not been hard to seduce and ensnare him. It had been a week of wondrous delights. But now it was over. And he must eradicate any hint of his depredations.

Wearily he collected the blood-stained throw from the sofa and picked up the soiled clothes. He brought the black leather pants to his nose and inhaled. His head swam in a delicious concoction of human desire and terror. And he knew that he would not stop. Indeed, could not stop.

Next he scouted around the cabin and collected all his victim's belongings. He stashed them in a black plastic bag, sealed it tightly, and hid it in the broom closet. Then, with the expertise born of long practise, he vacuumed, scrubbed and sprayed the place with air freshener. For good measure he opened all the windows.

After one last, thorough check, he finally relaxed, convinced there was nothing left to give him away. He headed to the bar and poured a stiff tot of whisky. The alcohol warmed him and he felt the worst of his dark mood lift. After all, humanities lifeblood had long been the birthright of his kind. It was the natural order. His sexuality was his business. Wasn't it? So what if he liked to dabble a little.

But, deep down he quailed. It was not so much what he did, but what he'd like to do that really troubled him. Each and every boy he brought home was just a substitute — and a poor one at that — for the one he really wanted. He felt his groin tighten even at the thought. Perhaps if he just did it, he'd get it out of his system. But he pushed the thought away — again. It would be madness.

Bitterly he pondered on what the mighty Campbell Clan would say and do if he acted on his impulses. A cold dread shimmied through him as every imaginable possibility suffused his mind.

A knock at the door brought him sharply back to the present. With one last anxious look around he went to the door. Instinct told him it was Cordelia.

Cordelia smiled. She really was rather lovely. Maybe he should marry her. It would be amusing and would also have the added advantage of keeping suspicion at arm's length. It had a certain appeal.

He smiled his most charming smile. ‘Cordelia, you look radiant, do come in.' It tickled his vanity to witness her eagerness. She brushed close to him and he could scent her arousal. It wouldn't be easy, but perhaps he should summon some enthusiasm for the invitation. After all, family honour must be upheld, no matter the sacrifice.

With both Sean and the cub to consider, Megan had to curb her natural instinct for speed. But she couldn't leave them behind. The cub because she was a baby, and Sean because she was loath to let him out of her sight. If the vampyre were on the move she wanted him close. She grinned to herself. Well, she wanted him close for a lot of reasons.

She headed upstream for a while and then stopped to take stock. The forest was vast and the mountains beyond bigger still. It may not be possible to find what they were looking for. But she had to try. Whoever it was out there, they were in a bad way. And, realistically, it could already be too late. But if it was, there would be a body. And bodies talked. Even dead ones. Especially dead ones.

Quickly she swept the surrounds, her senses questing. She could see as well as any nocturnal beast. The dark was no obstacle. Nothing escaped her sharp sight. Not the fungi unfurling in moist corners of an old wall or the mesmerised eyes of a hedgehog in the bracken. But she could not see what she sought.

The forest was filled with sound. Owl's wings stroking the night air. Beetles fossicking in the mossy ground. The stream bubbling down its stony bed. A vehicle humming many miles away. And a myriad other subtle noises that made up the night. But the voice they had heard was silent.

Sean came to her. ‘Any luck?'

She shook her head. ‘No.' But even as the word spilled from her lips Megan realised she had unwittingly lied. Her nose had found that which had evaded her other senses. She opened her mouth and tasted the air. And there it was again. The sickly sweet scent of corruption.

She put a hand on Sean's arm. ‘I scent something!' Without waiting for a response, she took off once more, afraid the wind might change and the trail be blown away. She travelled as the crow would fly, pushing through undergrowth, splashing through streams and leaping ditches.

‘Megan, wait!'

Sean's voice brought her to a halt. She was dismayed and embarrassed to find that she'd left him behind. But it was hard to overcome her instincts. Megan had travelled many miles alone. And when she honed in on something she was like a bloodhound. Single-minded and determined.

When he arrived, short of breath and more than a little anxious, Megan was crushed by her selfishness. She went to him and peered anxiously into his face. ‘I'm sorry, Sean. It's just that I get lost in myself sometimes.'

He shook his head while he struggled for breath. ‘It's OK. Don't be sorry. It wasn't intentional, I know. I just thought I'd lost you for a minute there.'

She reached out and brushed an oak leaf out of his hair. ‘You'll have to try harder than that, Sean, if you want to lose me. I don't intend to ever let you out of my sight.'

He grabbed her hand and pulled her close. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest. And the cub's heart beating faster. She smiled and stretched up to drop a kiss on his lips. His eyes darkened and she read their intent clearly. She laughed and pushed him away. She was a woman on a mission.

Once more she set off, this time keeping Sean in her sight. And with every stride she knew that she was on the right trail.

Megan found him lying like a broken toy in a tangle of brambles. They struggled through the cruel tentacles of thorn and vine. Megan dropped to her knees beside the naked body. She looked at the corpse. His skin was as pale as paper. The muscles and sinews of his once-strong body clearly defined beneath his wasted flesh. His flesh was punctured in a dozen places. But there was no blood. Not so much as a drop. Not anymore.

Megan forced herself to look at his face. And her heart skipped a beat.

Sean crouched beside her, his face pale. ‘Is he dead?'

Megan looked at Sean. ‘Yes.' But she had expected that. What she had not expected was to see the face of someone that she knew.

Initially Sean was shocked. Who wouldn't be? It wasn't every day that you found a dead man in the woods. But as his eyes travelled over the young man's remains he was sickened. For a minute he struggled with an overwhelming desire to vomit. It didn't take a genius to work out that the dead body had suffered terribly in the last days of its life.

‘Oh my God,' he whispered.

Megan looked up at him. ‘Now do you see, Sean?'

He forced himself to look once more. It was no easier the second time. Anger stirred from the embers of his horror. ‘I do see. Ginny Campbell did this, didn't she?' But to his surprise Megan shook her head.

‘No, Sean, I don't think she did.'

Sean's mind was blank. He was sure it had to be Ginny. After all, Megan had said so. And she clearly loathed his employee. She had warned him not to let her into the house. Everyone knew vampyres had to have an invitation. He finally found the words to express his findings. ‘But Megan, if it wasn't Ginny…then that must mean…well, what exactly?'

Megan snarled. ‘It means that it was someone else. Some other piece of Campbell excrement.'

Sean took a moment to process this. ‘Are you telling me that all the Campbells are…'

‘Vampyres?'

He nodded.

Megan shook her head. ‘No. Not all Campbells are vampyres. If they were, the human race would be extinct. No, it's a small number but they are powerful. In the same way, MacGregors aren't all werewolves. Not that we're powerful.'

Sean looked reluctantly at the dead man. And it wasn't hard to make the next connection. Callum Campbell. Was it possible? After all, he was exceedingly wealthy. And wealth and power went hand in hand. He decided to run it past Megan. ‘Do you know a man called Callum Campbell? He is the owner of the black gelding you are so attached to.'

She stood up and shook her head. ‘I don't know. Do you remember that Ginny asked you to go with her to visit her cousin, Calix?'

Sean nodded. It was hard to forget.

‘Well, I know him. This could be his work. I shot his sister three years ago. Silver bullet.'

‘Holy crap!'

She grinned. ‘Don't worry, the bitch is still alive. Unfortunately.'

Sean felt that he ought to be disapproving but was actually impressed. He knew, of course, that she was a crack shot. About a million questions bubbled in the cauldron of his brain. But they'd have to wait. He looked at his watch. It was half past one in the morning.

He stood, looked anxiously at Megan and gestured to the corpse. ‘What shall we do?'

‘Bury him.'

It took a while, but at least the moist soil was soft, and they managed to make a shallow grave. Together they rolled him gently in and covered him with soil and mulch. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing.

Sean rubbed the dirt off his hands onto his jeans. ‘What about his family? Someone will surely be missing him? Do you think I should just phone the police anonymously?'

Megan shook her head. ‘No need. I know who is. His name is Dino. I met him at the Jackal and Hide. He's a friend of a friend of mine.'

Sean felt terrible. ‘Christ, Megan, I'm so sorry.'

She shrugged. ‘It's all right. We weren't close. But it's kind of a shock.'

The pressure of time weighed upon him. ‘Megan, I gotta go. I have to be at the yard in a few hours.'

She smiled. ‘Of course. I must leave too. Grandad will skin me alive as it is. I'll take you back to the car and then I'll be off.'

‘Will you be all right?'

She laughed out loud. ‘Sean, I'm not the one you should be worried about! You need to look after yourself. Don't let anyone in the house. The Campbells have developed an unhealthy interest in you. We need to find out why.'

He loved the way she used ‘we' so naturally. It warmed him. It was hard to say goodbye. ‘You don't need to take me to the car. I'll find the way, no worries.'

She tilted her chin and appraised him with her amber eyes and he melted afresh. Damn, but she was adorable.

‘Find your own way?' she said. ‘Do you think so?' She looked slowly around the wild woods and then back at him. ‘Is there something you'd like to tell me, Sean?'

He laughed, relieved at the prospect of sharing his strange secrets. ‘Yes. There's a lot I want to tell you.' He covered the ground between them and stopped. With one finger he brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. ‘Can I see you tomorrow? I mean, tonight?'