Highland Vampire. Hannah HowellЧитать онлайн книгу.

      With her back against the cold, stone wall and the two men in front of her, Efrica could see no clear route of escape. She had thought she had been cautious enough to be safe but had obviously not been as careful as she could have been, for she had given these men the chance they had clearly been waiting for. It had never occurred to her that she might need a bodyguard to make a quick trip to the privy. The fact that both men were bleeding from wounds she had inflicted did please her, but she knew those wounds were going to cost her dearly if she did not get away.

      They lunged at her and she did her best to keep both men from getting a firm grip on her at the same time. This time they were not deceived by her small size or her sex into thinking it would be easy to capture and hold her. Once Lachlan slammed her against the wall so hard she was surprised she did not feel or hear a bone crack. She decided they were definitely planning to make her suffer for the injuries she had given them. When they finally got her pinned against the wall, she hissed at them. The looks upon their faces told her that, during the battle, she may have revealed her ancestry a little too clearly. Their brief confusion faded, turning into looks of hard determination. Efrica knew she could not fight them anymore, that she was too bruised and exhausted.

      Suddenly Jankyn appeared behind the men. Efrica decided that that wolf-eyed, teeth-baring look he wore held its own wild beauty at times. By the looks upon the faces of her attackers as they were suddenly lifted off their feet and flung aside, she knew they had not seen or heard Jankyn’s approach, either. Thomas sprawled on the floor several feet away and did not move, but Lachlan began to stand up. Efrica saw Jankyn start to turn toward that man, fury still marking his features in a way no one could see and forget. She hurled herself into his arms with the last of her strength, wrapping her arms around his neck.

      “Shield the teeth, Jankyn,” she whispered, fighting to remain conscious until all danger had passed.

      It was not easy, but Jankyn reined in his fury and bloodlust. He pressed his lips together before turning to face Lachlan. The scent of their blood, still flowing from the slashes Efrica’s nails had inflicted, made that control even more difficult. As he stood there holding a trembling Efrica, Jankyn ached to make the men pay dearly for touching her, hurting her, and making her taste such fear.

      “When I look again, ye and that other piece of offal had best be gone,” Jankyn said to Lachlan, then turned his attention back to an increasingly limp Efrica. “They have hurt you.”

      Hearing the snarl in his voice, Efrica struggled to speak. “Nay so badly. A bit dazed and bruised is all. Ye dinnae need to be ripping any throats out. Could cause talk, ye ken.”

      Jankyn sighed loudly. “Ye do ken how to take all the joy out of a mon’s life, lass.”

      Efrica attempted to smile, even though she was not sure he was jesting, at least not completely. “Are they gone?”

      “Aye, scurried away like rats, they did. Weel, a wee bit more slowly as one rat had to carry the other.” He picked her up in his arms when he realized that her grip upon his neck was probably all that kept her standing. “Are ye going to swoon?”

      “Callan women ne’er swoon.”

      She had barely finished saying the words when she went completely limp in his arms and he rolled his eyes over her false bravado. He did not know where her chambers were, had made it a point not to know. That left his chambers and he was reluctant to take her there. Having Efrica in his room, upon his bed, could offer up more temptation than he could resist. Jankyn started toward the garden to find a bench where he could sit and hold her until she came out of her swoon. If anyone chanced to see them there, they would think it was two lovers trysting.

      Once in the garden, Jankyn sought out a bench set between two small rowan trees, hard up against a high wall, and sat down. He settled Efrica comfortably upon his lap and studied her face in the soft light of the full moon. Even though he still ached to kill the men who had attacked her, he was glad she had stopped him again. He did not want her to see him commit such violence. The fact that she knew what he could do to a man was unsettling enough.

      For a moment he wondered if he had become ashamed of what he was, then shook his head. He held none of the hard arrogance of his ancestors, that blind pride that had allowed them to see Outsiders as little more than dumb beasts to feed upon, but he was proud to be a MacNachton. The MacNachtons were more civilized now, had more respect for all life. It was fear that kept them all so secretive about their nature, fear of the dire fate awaiting anyone who was decried as a witch, a sorcerer, or a demon. And it was fear that allowed Lachlan and Thomas to escape his fury, fear of the look of horror and revulsion upon Efrica’s sweet face as he rose from the bodies of the two men, their blood staining his mouth. She understood he was merely of a different breed, as she was, and that he was not some soulless, undead creature from an unblessed grave who fed upon the living. However, knowing of his nature and seeing it displayed were two different things. Jankyn knew it would pain him far more than he cared to think about if she turned from him in fear and loathing. What he felt for her had obviously far surpassed lust and liking.

      He pressed his lips to her forehead and inhaled deeply of her sweet scent. Even David’s mother, a woman he had wanted to marry and claim as his mate, had never moved him as deeply as this delicate woman did. Efrica truly was his mate, and yet even as he held her in his arms, he did not think he had ever felt so alone, for he could never claim her. It made his past sense of loneliness seem like no more than a bad mood. Although he felt certain she cared for him in many ways, and desired him, he was going to have to resist the temptation to try to win her heart. She was a woman who loved the garden, the sun, and children. He could give her only shadows, windowless rooms, and quite possibly, an empty womb. He could not do that to her.

      She stirred in his arms and slowly opened her eyes. Jankyn stared into those warm, soft amber eyes and felt such a confusing wealth of emotion he was tempted to toss her to the ground and run for the hills. Instead, he kissed her, even as a mocking voice in his head called him an idiot.

      Efrica was startled when Jankyn’s lips met hers. For a very brief moment, she resisted the temptation of welcoming and returning his kiss. As she slipped her arms around his neck, she told herself the occasional lapse in good judgment would not hurt her. When she parted her lips to allow the kiss to become more intimate, it took but one stroke of his tongue to banish the last twinge of caution. The heat of desire burned away all thought of anything besides how good he tasted and how alive he made her feel. His hands stroked her body and soon had her trembling with need, aching for him to touch those places he was so carefully avoiding. She was just thinking of how much she wanted to feel his skin beneath her hands when he burrowed his long fingers into her hair and pain shot through her head.

      Jankyn heard her moan, and she jerked slightly in his arms. Since he felt a little dazed himself, it took him a moment to understand that it was not passion that caused her to do so. He quickly turned her around on his lap to examine the back of her head. He was relieved to discover that the swelling there was not too great, but there was a cut that needed to be cleaned.

      “I thought we werenae going to do that anymore,” Efrica said when she felt she could speak calmly.

      “We werenae and we arenae,” responded Jankyn as he set her on her feet and stood up. He quickly wrapped a steadying arm around her slim shoulders when she swayed slightly. “Tis unwise, especially since we will be spending time together. Where are your chambers?”

      Efrica asked him as he escorted her back into the castle, “Why are we to spend time together?”

      “Aside from the fact that ye have two men hunting ye?” He nodded when she frowned and then quickly told her what Malcolm had said. “In some ways, I need your protection as much as ye need mine. Ye cannae denounce or accuse those