Highland Vampire (6 page)

The next time the man looked his way, Jankyn gave him a wide smile. Malcolm's eyes grew very wide, and he paled slightly before turning his attention back to Efrica. She obviously noticed her cousin's upset, and frowned at Jankyn, suspicion glinting in her eyes. Jankyn gave her a sweet smile and was not surprised when her look of suspicion only deepened. Then Malcolm drew her attention as he led them into what had clearly once been the great hall. Jankyn stood and looked around in awe at all the shelves and tables so filled with things that people employed to record information they felt was important that the wood should have been groaning and buckling beneath the weight of it all.

"Ye will find the MacNachtons on the shelf by the window," Malcolm said. "Far end. On the left I will get ye some wine and food, aye?"

Before Efrica could reply, Malcolm hurried out of the room. She turned to cast another suspicious look at Jankyn, but he was already striding toward the shelves Malcolm had indicated. Efrica was sure Jankyn had done something to make Malcolm so nervous, but since they had not been immediately turned out, she decided to ignore it and hurried to his side. A little voice told her that she ought to leave him here, that spending time alone with him was not wise, but she silenced it. If nothing else, she was intensely curious about what information Malcolm may have gathered on the MacNachtons. She silently helped Jankyn look for anything with the name
MacNachton
and place it on one of the several large tables scattered around the room.

"Ah, good, good," Malcolm muttered as he returned and set a large tray of wine, bread, cheese, and oatcakes on the table. "Ye may see a wee notation or two in places. Twill direct ye to another wee bit of information. Many clans are connected, ye ken, and the tales of one clan will oftimes slip into the tales of another."

Efrica frowned and stared at her cousin's neck. A glint of something shiny showed beneath the tousled locks of white hair and the neck of the ink-stained shirt. She reached out to touch his neck and gasped when she tapped her fingernail against metal.

"Malcolm, what do ye have upon your neck?" she demanded.

"Naught!" He covered his neck with his hands.

"Dinnae lie to me. Oh, Malcolm, ye have put some sort of neck ring on. How could ye insult a guest so?"

"Effie, he is a MacNachton." Malcolm whispered.

"Aye, and his laird is wed to my sister Bridget. Do ye see me wrapping metal about my neck? I think ye have heeded too many rumors, forgotten how to separate gossip and whispers from fact. I also think ye owe Jankyn an apology."

"Sorry," Malcolm muttered even as he started toward the door. "Many pardons. Let yourselves out when ye are done."

Keeping her gaze fixed upon the door Malcolm had shut behind him as he fled, Efrica said, "Ye showed him your fangs, didnae ye, Jankyn."

"They may have peeked out when I gave him a friendly smile," Jankyn replied.

She shook her head and moved to pour them each some wine. "That mon spends far too much of his life lurking about within this house reading about the past." She frowned when Jankyn studied what looked to be a brief letter, a faint smile curling his lips. "What have ye found?"

"The answer to the puzzle of how your brother kenned so much about us. He would only say that he had a knowledgeable friend. I believe I have found that
friend
." Jankyn handed her the letter.

"
'Bridget has wed Cathal MacNachton, laird of Cambrun,'"
she read. "'
Who is he? Need to know immediately. Duncan
.' Rather abrupt. Howbeit, I suspicion my brother softened his lordly demands with a heavy purse. I wonder why he ne'er told ye about Malcolm."

"He had only just met us and kenned how closely we guarded our secrets. We ne'er thought to ask again, after he had come to ken us better." Jankyn sipped at the wine she had served him. "Still, I am nay sure I like the fact that someone outside Cambrun kens so much about us."

"Malcolm is verra careful about sharing this information. He kens all about the Callans, too, ye ken. Being one of us, he weel understands the value of secrecy. I will, however, tell him to put
your
secrets away with ours."

Jankyn glanced around the room. "The Callans arenae to be found in here?"

"There will be a listing, a few tales and innocent letters, but nay more. Malcolm carefully takes out all hints of our true ancestry. The full tale is more precisely recorded and tucked away in a verra safe place. Since your clan is now tied to ours, 'tis far past time he did the same, er, cleansing of the MacNachton information."

"Aye, that might be best. 'Tis troubling to think of our secrets written down here where, nay matter how careful Malcolm is, someone could see them. Rumors and dark, whispered tales of the past are difficult enough to fight. Set down in a book?" He shrugged. "Too many would see that as irrefutable proof."

Efrica nodded. "The verra fact that someone would take the time to write it all down gives it weight. So few have the skill that it gives it a great deal of power. Magic, e'en," she added as she returned to the shelves.

When Jankyn watched her bend over slightly to sort through several scrolls, his mind was immediately filled with several lecherous thoughts and he inwardly cursed. It was tempting to tell her to leave, that he did not need help, but he could not bring himself to do so. She was offering him help, had brought him to a treasure trove of information, and he would not insult her by curtly sending her away. He was a man with many years of experience, he reminded himself as he forced his attention to the book in front of him. He ought to be able to curtail his lust for a woman, for
any
woman.

That control grew harder to grasp than he liked as the hours passed. Far too often he would catch himself looking at her, thinking of all the ways he wanted to make love to her. She was proving to be an incurable fever in his blood. The fact that she was a pleasant and efficient assistant only made it worse. A simple lusting could be conquered in time, no matter how fierce it was. Lust mixed with respect and liking was very hard to shake free of. It was settling deep into his heart, and that could cause them both a lot of trouble.

It was Efrica who called attention to the swift advance of dawn hours later. Jankyn pulled himself free of his fascination with his research and looked longingly at several large books he had unearthed from Malcolm's vast collection. He looked at Efrica and caught her setting a letter on the tray Malcolm had brought the food and wine in on.

"'Tis but a message for Malcolm telling him that we have taken a few things back to the castle with us," she explained.

"Will he allow that?" asked Jankyn.

"Nay if we ask him directly, I suspect. Thus the message and a quick escape."

"And this." Jankyn set a small purse upon the tray, the weight of it and the sound it made hinting at a sizable sum of money.

"That will certainly soothe him," she murmured as she followed Jankyn out of the house.

After carefully placing the books into his saddle packs, Jankyn noticed that Efrica had felt no need to wait for his help in mounting her horse, and so he mounted his. "Is anything wrong?" he asked when he caught her frowning.

"Actually," she replied, nudging her horse into motion, "I was but wondering where Malcolm got that thing he wore about his neck. Tisnae something one has just lying about the house."

Jankyn laughed softly as he rode beside her. "I suspect he had it made when word came that a Callan had married a MacNachton. Dinnae scowl. I took no insult."

Efrica was not so sure she believed that, but did not argue it. Malcolm's reaction to Jankyn only reaffirmed her opinion that she was a fool to be so attracted to a MacNachton, to even consider a future with the man. If even members of the Callan clan could not be at ease around Jankyn, how could she ever hope to have a normal life with the man?

Chapter Six

"It wouldnae hurt ye to spend a wee bit more time at court."

Jankyn looked up from the writings he had been carefully reading to frown at Malcolm. For the past four nights he had spent long hours searching through Malcolm's research, meticulously recording each and every mention of MacNachtons, including a few old, dark tales very similar to the ones whispered in the villages near Cambrun. It appeared that, back in the far, misty past, MacNachtons had found a way to travel farther afield than they did now. Malcolm had grown more at ease in his presence, although he still wore that odd piece of armor around his neck. Obviously Malcolm had read one too many of the tales of dark, wolf-eyed men riding through the night and leaving death behind them.

"Why?" he asked. "I cannae find the answers I seek there."

"I would have thought a mon of your ilk would have learned to keep his ear to the ground."

"What do ye mean?"

"Whispers and rumors, laddie. Whispers and rumors."

"Such things have always swirled about the MacNachtons."

"Aye, and nay heeding them has sent more than a few of your clan to their deaths. Hard, gruesome deaths and unblessed graves."

Jankyn tensed. "What have ye heard?"

"What do ye think, eh? That ye ne'er show your bonnie face when the sun is up, that ye have an unnatural strength, that ye—"

"Enough. I ken it all, but I wonder how ye hear such things when it doesnae appear that ye e'er leave this house."

Malcolm sat on a bench across the table from Jankyn and crossed his arms. "Everyone who comes to me for information about their clan, or the bloodlines of someone who wishes to marry into their clan, gives me the promise that they will inform me of
any
news they can, rumor or fact. 'Tis rare that a day passes which doesnae bring me a missive, some messenger, or e'en some copied book, scroll, or ledger. There are several people at court right now who visit me from time to time to tell me all the news. Aye, things such as how two cruel bastards stalk my wee cousin Efrica and how there is a woman who is determined to have ye crawl back into her bed. Indeed, a woman who grows angrier each time ye shun her welcome."

Between trying to keep a safe distance between himself and Efrica and becoming engrossed in his research, Jankyn had not realized that Lachlan and Thomas had renewed their pursuit of Efrica. Given what those two men were capable of, Efrica could still be in very real danger. Her cousin Barbara was a good woman, but little protection. Lachlan and Thomas just needed to catch Efrica alone once, and Jankyn did not feel very confident that the opportunity would never present itself. Just thinking of what they had already tried to do to her made him furious.

Then Jankyn saw Malcolm's eyes widen and realized his fury was revealing itself in his face. He struggled to control his anger and watched Malcolm visibly shore up his courage. Jankyn suspected it was only the man's concern and affection for Efrica that kept him from fleeing the room.

"I dinnae think ye ought to go racing back and toss the bastards round the garden again," Malcolm said.

"Did Efrica tell ye about that?"

"Nay. Ye were seen that day. An old friend of mine saw her peril and rushed from his bedchamber to go to her aid. He arrived in the garden just as ye rescued her. As he told me, ye threw the men aside as if they weighed naught."

This was alarming news. "He is the one spreading the rumors?"

"Nay. I convinced him that, e'en though ye are a slender mon, ye are a strong one. Can win any caber toss, and all that. Also said the MacNachtons can oftimes be spurred into a fierce rage when one of their own is threatened. Explained about the laird of the MacNachtons being wed to Bridget and all that. He still puzzled o'er how ye could pick each mon up, one in each hand, and mentioned how he had caught a fleeting glimpse of a verra alarming look upon your face." Malcolm nodded when Jankyn cursed. "I finally managed to get him to believe that blind rage had given ye such power, and weel, wasnae it shown by your near swoon afterward that ye had used up all your strength and may have e'en injured yourself a wee bit."

"Ye feel certain he willnae be telling that tale to anyone else?"

"Aye, e'en if he thinks on it all again and begins to doubt all my clever explanations. I made it verra clear that I wouldnae be pleased to hear such tales spread about the clan my most beloved cousin is now a part of. I didnae threaten to retaliate by revealing a few embarrassing truths about his family, but he understood the implication. The important question is, is he the only one who saw ye that day? He believes 'tis only those two men and the lady who whisper about ye, but one hopes there is no one else who saw ye and thus can affirm those spreading rumors."

After cursing again over that dire possibility, Jankyn hastily finished the work he had been in the midst of when Malcolm had arrived. The moment he was done, he collected up his completed work and started out of the room, Malcolm at his heels, obviously intending to tightly lock the gates after Jankyn had left. Jankyn knew he was close to unlocking a few secrets about his bloodlines, but the security of the MacNachton secrets and Efrica's safety were far more important. He could always pay Malcolm handsomely to continue the work for him, knowing the man would protect the MacNachton secrets as well as he protected those of his own clan. After all, people descended from some pagan priestess rumored to be a shape-shifter could be marked as demons and the devil's minions as easily as any MacNachton.

Once back at the castle, Jankyn hurried to his chambers to secure his work and wash the ink from his hands. He then went in search of Efrica, needing to see with his own eyes that she was safe and was well aware of the danger stalking her little heels. An odd noise echoed through the hallway, and Jankyn halted, hoping the noise would come again so that he could determine exactly where it was coming from and whether or not he should trail it to its source.

"Cursed cats," muttered a man who hurried past Jankyn. "Hate the sly beasts, but they keep the vermin under control, aye?"

Jankyn murmured a polite agreement and the man disappeared into a room. Now Jankyn knew why the sound had so firmly caught his interest. It was similar to the one a cat made when caught in a fight. This cat, however, was probably facing two-legged vermin she would not be able to control. He listened intently, thankful for the empty silence of the hallway he stood in, and was rewarded with a soft sound that unmistakably was a hiss. Clinging to the shadows, moving swiftly and silently, Jankyn headed in the direction the sound had come from, a sound that told him a Callan was in danger. Instinct told him that it was Efrica, and he felt his blood heat with fury and the thrill of the hunt.