MIDNIGHT CONQUEST: Book 1 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles (47 page)

Cordelia met the intense gaze of the prophetess and nodded. “Why are
you
not delivering the pouch?”

“Because I cannot wipe his memory of our encounter. Your abilities as a Vamsyrian are why you must deliver the pouch. Give him the satchel and leave no trace of your face or my instructions to meet you in his mind. He should wake up with the satchel in his hand and my instructions to guide him.” She pursed her lips in disapproval. “And you must not wait for him to open the pouch. You deliver it and leave. You will meet me here again on the first full moon after the summer solstice.”

“’Tis almost a year hence! Why—?”

“During that time, certain events will take place to advance the prophecy so we may perform the second sign. Besides, you will have other errands to run.”

Cordelia dropped her jaw at the enormity of her mentor’s previous statement. “
We
will perform the sign?”

Malloren kissed the top of Cordelia’s head. “Yes, child…we will.”

Chapter One

Leith, Scotland—1531

The cold steel of the blade pressed so hard against Cailin MacDougal’s throat, she couldn’t swallow the lump forming there—nor could she be sure her eyes watered from fear or her attacker. He smelled atrocious! His body odor and bad breath hovered around her like a fog, and she struggled to breathe. Grand appreciation filled the stranger’s blood-shot eyes as they raked over her face and neckline, the corners of his mouth forming an evil grin. “Oh, ye shall be a tasty treat for ol’ Jasper before I hand ye over!”

Cailin cursed over falling for the trap. She had heard of this happening—a young child asking for assistance, luring unsuspecting yet helpful strangers into alleyways, only to be jumped by someone waiting to rob them of their goods…sometimes worse. Where the young lad she followed had gone to now was hardly her concern. The chance that this Jasper might be working for Angus Campbell—which was a constant fear of her family’s—pressed upon her as acutely as his knife pressed against her throat.

She tried to squirm out of Jasper’s grasp—his one beefy hand holding her wrists behind her—only to be pressed harder into the barrels against the back, hidden corner of the alley. With the sharp edge against her skin, the dread over falling into the hands of her father’s enemy, and the frustration of her attacker stepping on her skirts, effectively pinning her in place—Cailin’s mind swirled. She fought the images of Angus feeding from her mother Davina in the dark cell he’d taken them to, his taunting eyes, Davina’s blood on his smiling lips. She willed her emotions into submission. If she didn’t calm down, she would never be able to concentrate on escaping and would suffer the same fate as her mother.

Jasper removed the knife from her throat to caress her cheek and she breathed easier, finally able to swallow and find her voice. “Sir, you have my purse. If you would just—”

He grabbed her throat. “Be still, ducks.”

Heat rose in Cailin’s cheeks when he trailed the blade to her neckline, cutting through her material. How she allowed this lout to pin her in such a confining position was beyond her, and she would never forget such a stupid mistake. This was what she deserved for underestimating him in his slovenly appearance. Admittedly, her skirts made hand-to-hand combat most difficult, so she allowed herself some forgiveness. Training in a gown would be next on her agenda, but until then, she still had this situation to manage. If she could just get her hands on her daggers, hidden within the folds of her dress! She ventured one last glance down the narrow passage. No one had yet come running up the alley, so evidently her initial cry for help went unheard. She was on her own.

There!
The idiot shifted to straddle her leg, no longer pinning her, and rubbed his erection against her hip. Ignoring the blush that heated her face, she seized the long-awaited opportunity to pivot her weight, push him away and bring her knee up between his legs, gladly making contact with his offending member. Jasper collapsed to his knees, howling. Hiking her skirts, Cailin kicked the dagger from his hand, brought her foot back and swiped it across his jaw. He curled into an infantile position, groaning and clutching his groin. Cailin dusted her hands in triumph. Not wanting to make the same mistake twice, she pulled at least one of her daggers out at the ready. Shaking her head at his pitiful display, she crouched beside him and searched his vest for her pouch.

A deep, rumbling laugh echoed against the brick walls and she contemplated the raven-haired figure standing at the entrance of the alleyway, a long dark cloak concealing his rather large frame. “And just who is robbing whom?”

Pale-green eyes assessed her as he sauntered forward, crossing his arms. Something seemed vaguely familiar about this man. A delightful shiver tickled over her skin when his eyes fell upon her breasts and the smile melted from his mouth.

He swallowed hard. “If you do not close your bodice, my dear, I cannot be held responsible for my actions.”

His deep voice flowed over her body like warm water from the Mediterranean Sea. Cailin glanced down at her bodice—the top of her bosoms flushed pink and rounded above her torn neckline. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Your
actions
may lead you to join this poor soul on the ground.”

With the knife clutched in her left hand—giving her a little more courage than she should probably dare—she searched the robber with her other hand while keeping her eyes trained on the intruder. Jasper stirred as she retrieved her belongings and she diverted her attention just enough to deal him another blow to his jaw, causing him to slump into unconsciousness.

She tucked the purse into her dress pocket. Standing, she raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smirk, and faced the wide-eyed and slack-jawed handsome stranger.

At a quick intake of breath, he stepped before her and stole his arm around her waist in one motion. Pressing her against the full form of his hard body, he pushed her breasts even more over her torn neckline.

“Unless you wish to keep your private jewels intact,” she warned, “I suggest you keep your distance, sir.” With her dagger at his groin, she tilted the silver-plated blade up to make her point.

His body stiffened against her and fear flickered across his eyes. Taking one step back, he peered down at the dagger between them and fingered the cut she sliced in his breeches. He hitched his breath and offered a respectful nod, retreating. But the sneer returned to his lips. “I see the lady is handy with a blade.” He studied the dagger before his eyes roamed her body and he crossed his arms again. “And how is it a gentile maid such as yourself came to be so experienced at close combat with such expertly crafted weapons? Mind you, I use the terms ‘lady’ and ‘gentile’ with much reluctance.” He snickered.

Cailin narrowed her eyes. “Obviously you underestimate my skills.”

“Obviously.” When Cailin tried to step past him, he countered to block her exit. “You also dodged my question.”

She clenched her jaw at his arrogance. “Aye, ’tis unbecoming of a
lady
to have such extensive training, but I have likely seen more tutelage in this area than you could hope to dream of,
sir
.”

Cailin resisted the urge to sigh at the rich laughter that rumbled from his chest and, at the same time, she wanted to punch him square in the jaw.

“Do I detect a challenge, my dear?” His eyes near sparkled at the prospect.

Oh, why do men always have to prove themselves?
“Nay, dear sir, ’tis a simple fact I pass along to you for your own good. Now, if you will excuse me.”

Another bout of laughter poured from him. “As a good citizen, I cannot let you pass without extracting some justice for this poor soul you have robbed and rendered unconscious.”

It was Cailin’s turn to laugh. “Good citizen? With the crime that riddles this port? Surely you jest at dispensing justice.”

“Precisely why I can only assume a woman wandering such dangerous streets alone can only be up to ill intent.” He grinned.

Cailin stepped left, as did he. She stepped right, only to meet his expansive presence again. Not wishing any further delays, she half-heartedly swiped her dagger at him to feign him off, which he dodged effectively. She stepped back and drew her other dagger from the specially tailored belt crafted for her weapons. With it positioned low on her waist, the leather-and-steel sheaths lay against her hips and hidden amongst the folds of her gown. Narrow crossbars made it easy to withdraw the silver-plated Wootz blades, which she twirled in her hands before facing him, poised and ready. She reveled in a certain measure of satisfaction at seeing a dumbfounded expression replace his cocky demeanor. “Please step aside, sir, so that I may pass. Do not force me to do something you may regret.”

A fire blazed in his green eyes, which gleamed like opals at her challenge, and that sensuous mouth curled into a smirk. Jasper moaned and the bonnie intruder stepped forward to give the man on the ground a quick jab to the jaw, knocking him silent again. He stepped back and resumed his arrogant position.

Under different circumstances, she’d be very taken with this man. And she still couldn’t help wondering where she’d seen his face.

Throwing his cloak back over his shoulders, he revealed a broad chest that rippled under the thin material of his black shirt as he reached across his hip for his sword.

Cailin blanched. Not many men carried swords on their person in the port city of Leith—daggers were the weapon of choice and easier to conceal—and those that did rarely matched the craftsmanship of this blade. This was not a cheap, decorative sword.
Out of one mess and into another.
She swallowed her fear and stood her ground.

“I suggest a wager.” He winked.

“I am not a gambling woman.”

Tilting his head back, he laughed and Cailin clenched her jaw, her cheeks blooming with heat again. Amusement twinkling in his eyes, he ignored her comment. “A challenge. If you win, I shall let you walk free.”

“And if
you
win?”

The amusement in his eyes transformed into smoldering desire. “I shall have to take you in hand and see you submit…” His eyes raked her body. “To the proper authority.” He folded his arms in front of him, the blade of his sword sweeping up and standing erect from his fist.

Cailin’s breath left her in a rush and fire surged through her body—from the fluttering in her stomach to the tingling in her toes. She did not miss his twofold meaning, and drew a deep, steadying breath, biting her tongue; though keeping her tongue proved more difficult to manage. “We shall see about this,
sir
.”

With a chuckle, he advanced. Cailin had the upper hand with two blades and extensive training. Twirling her arms and bending at the waist, she parried his thrust, continued through her movement and landed a sound kick to his side, sending him sprawling into the barrels. Once the loud clatter of boxes and debris settled, he shook his head. Her opponent gazed at her with large eyes while she widened her stance and readied her blades.

His brow furrowed and he rose to his feet, adjusting his shirt and positioning his sword. “Shall we try that again?”

“I can repeat that if you are a glutton for punishment, but I think you are fool.”

He laughed. With a sweep of his sword, he forced Cailin to switch her stance to block his blade. To her dismay, he also pushed her off balance and wound his arms around her, pinning her hands behind her back. She faced him, chest against chest, seething at the advantage he had taken.

“’Tis dangerous you are with those blades.” He wrested the daggers from her and tossed them aside. “Now, how do you suppose we should settle this matter?”

She grumbled. “He tried to rob me. I defended myself and you interfered. What is there to settle?”

“You must understand, from my perspective, I saw quite the opposite.”

Cailin wriggled, making a concerted effort to free herself, but gained no purchase against him. Huffing in defeat, she said, “I care not what you
think
you saw. He trapped me and I was forced to defend myself.” She wiggled again and stopped when his arousal pressed against her belly. Heat stole into her cheeks and she gazed into his sea-green eyes, growing stormy with desire.

Before Cailin could utter another word, his mouth descended upon hers, capturing a seeking kiss. Surely her lack of will to resist was due to the ordeal she’d just experienced. But the flutter in her stomach told her she enjoyed this man’s touch far too much to blame exhaustion. The daydreams of her first kiss with her promised groom—what the experience would be like, how she would respond—all vanished like smoke on the wind. She never imagined this hungry, carnal reality. When his tongue teased along the crease of her lips, she opened her mouth to him, inviting a new swirl of quivers down her spine as their tongues danced. A primal heat stole into her belly and sank to settle between her legs, which wobbled and threatened to give way.