Never Been Bitten (14 page)

“Was human.” She ran a finger over the marble bust of one of the Breckenridge ancestors. “I would appear to be half-blood.”

He rocked backward as if gut-punched. No wonder she’d smelled human, sounded human, acted human. That side of her heritage would always be part of her. As would that of vampire. It was amazing.
She
was amazing.

“Mixed-blood offspring,” Cain breathed, unable to fathom being in the presence of something so rare as to be legendary, yet unable to dispute the truth of it. If the Elders had commanded Aggie’s capture for having broken a political betrothal, Cain could scarcely fathom their reaction once they discovered the result of her forbidden liaison with a human.

He hurried forward, reaching out for her in his excitement. “When the Elders find out—”

She moved so quickly, he didn’t even have a chance to process the trajectory of the marble bust slamming into his head.

Blackness.

Chapter Twelve

“Mama!”

Ellie crashed through the guest chamber door and skidded to a stop in front of her mother, who had apparently been standing within arm’s reach of the threshold, awaiting her daughter’s return. If Mama were nervous now, her panic would double once she learned that a very large, very determined, very
angry
vampire warrior would be bursting into the room at any moment to carry them off to a Scottish dungeon. He’d gone down when she’d brained him with the marble bust, certainly, but how long could one expect someone like Cain to
stay
down? Minutes? Seconds? He was most likely already after them—and this time, there would be no getting away.

Ellie grabbed her mother’s hand. “We have to go.
Now!
”

Forehead wrinkling, Mama squinted at her as if her daughter had grown horns as well as fangs over the past few hours.

“He’s coming,” Ellie explained impatiently. “Mártainn Macane is—”

But Mama was already on the move, galvanized from the first syllable. “Grab your pelisse. I’ll get the jewels.”

Nodding, Ellie turned toward her bedchamber. “Our trunk—”

“—will stay here,” Mama interrupted. “If Mac Eoin knows, then we have no time.”

Well, he definitely knew. The lovemaking had been heavenly—until the end, when it had turned hellish. Ellie hated to leave without trying to explain, without telling him that for her, at least, the lovemaking had not been in body alone. She would never surrender her freedom, though he had already stolen her heart. She’d planned to confess, to compromise, to find a solution to everything.... But as soon as he’d spoken the word “Elders,” she had known there was no changing Cain’s mind. There had been no choice. Just as now, they had no choice but to run.

In the scant seconds it took Ellie to sprint to the wardrobe and shrug on her pelisse, her mother was already at the door, a leather satchel clutched to her breast amid the folds of her cloak.

“Swiftly.” Mama led the way through what appeared to be servant corridors. “We cannot call attention to ourselves by ringing for our carriage at this hour.”

They arrived at an unmarked door at the far side of the manor, which opened toward the mews. Shivering against the wicked night wind, they raced across the lawn to the stables. Once inside, Mama Compelled the sleepy stable hands to fetch their horses as quickly as possible.

When Ellie was younger, she’d thought their well-worn curricle a foolhardy expenditure for a twosome as poor as they. Now that she knew exactly why they ran, she had a new appreciation for the high speeds possible in the small, light chaise, as well as the wisdom behind owning a carriage that did not require liverymen or a driver.

In short order, Ellie and her mother were settled on the perch, the reins in Ellie’s capable hands. With a flick of her wrist, they were off.

The wind was bitterly cold and razor sharp against their cheeks as the curricle sped recklessly into the night, but Ellie barely registered the chapping of her cheeks or the chafing of the leather straps wound about her bare hands. She’d forgotten her gloves. She’d lost her marbles. And now that the initial panic had begun to fade, a sharp twist of guilt chilled her flesh far more effectively than the winter wind.

She’d wounded Cain and left.

She hadn’t checked his pulse (presuming he had one) or the blood seeping from his temple, or felt along his scalp to see if she’d shattered his skull. She’d simply dropped the red-stained bust where she’d stood and ran.

What if he was dead? What if she’d
killed
him? Could one even kill a vampire?

He was big and strong and a seasoned warrior, but the mere existence of his clan’s death decree meant that none of them were truly immortal. Could a vampire live through a cracked skull? Could he heal without help? Without blood? Without her?

Mama snapped to attention as if she’d been goosed. She grabbed Ellie’s leg. “Faster!”

Ellie cracked the whip without question. Seeing the look of pure terror on her mother’s face was somehow the most frightening sight of all.

“What is it?” she finally asked, her voice hoarse above the dust kicked up by the horses.

“Hoofbeats,” Mama whispered, her ashen face even paler than usual. She gripped the edge of the carriage and bent to peer around the side. With a gasp, she flung herself back inside, slamming the back of her head against the rear panel. “It’s
him.
”

Ellie was so startled, she nearly dropped the reins. “It is?”

“Halt!” came the familiar voice from just behind the carriage.

Fear at what he might do and foolish, unadulterated joy at Cain’s continued well-being collided in Ellie’s midsection. She flicked the whip without a conscious decision to spur the horses, as if she were an automaton instructed to do so.

Cain was here. Cain was
alive.
And lovesick or not, she could not allow her mother to be captured.

She leaned forward, urging the geldings faster and faster. But horses pulling a carriage could never match the speed of a single horse and rider.

Bringing his mount abreast of the carriage, Cain leaped from his saddle to their curricle, landing hard on the squab beside Ellie.

“Good evening.”

“Good evening,” she echoed automatically, then slammed her elbow into his ribs. “Get out!”

He smiled. “No.”

Mother closed her eyes and groaned as if suddenly motion sick.

Ellie’s own nerves grew more and more tense as Cain’s hulking presence continued to tower beside her without further comment or any attempt to wrest the ribbons from her trembling hands.

When she could stand it no longer, Ellie blurted, “What the devil are you about?”

“I thought it obvious.” He arranged himself more comfortably. “I’m coming with you.”

She tightened her grip on the reins with one hand and sent the other arm flying protectively across her mother. “We are
not
going meekly to some archaic punishment.”

“I should hope not.”

She sent him a ferocious scowl. “Nor shall we succumb to being imprisoned against our will.”

“Very well.”

Ellie regarded him uncertainly. “Nor will we return to Scotland, now or ever, until and unless all threats have been revoked.”

He lifted a shoulder as if none of those possibilities caused the slightest concern, leaned his head back against the panel, and peacefully closed his eyes. “As you wish.”

Just as Ellie found herself utterly and maddeningly at a complete loss for words, Mama pushed away Ellie’s protective arm, leaned forward to poke Cain in the leg, and demanded, “What is the meaning of this, Mac Eoin?”

“It means,” he responded without opening his eyes, “I’m in love with your daughter.”

“What?” Ellie choked out, at the same moment her mother exclaimed,
“What?”

After a long moment, Cain gave a short nod, as if responding to some argument raging deep within himself instead of at the two women gaping openmouthed alongside him. He squared his shoulders, straightened, and turned to face Ellie’s mother.

“As I understand, it is human tradition to request permission to wed from the bride’s father.”

Ellie blinked at him stupidly.

“As he is no longer present,” Cain continued without taking his focus from her mother, “it is my fervent hope that her mother will acquiesce. Agnes Munro, will you grant me the honor of marrying your daughter, Elspeth Ramsay?”

“What?” Mama repeated blankly, the word barely audible above the hoofbeats and howling wind.

Ellie let the reins slacken as she turned to face Cain dead-on. “Is this a jest?”

“Not in the slightest,” he answered simply. When the corner of his mouth lifted in an uncertain smile, there was no doubting the sincerity of his words.

A vicious, dangerous, swirl of hope began to unfurl in Ellie’s heart. “But you were so angry—”

“I was startled.” He gently touched his knuckles against the curve of her cheek. “You breathe, Ellie. Your heart beats. Your human blood rushes in your veins. And you
bit
me.”

Mama clutched at her throat. “Elspeth!”

“It was an accident,” Ellie mumbled guiltily.

“It was instinct,” Cain corrected her, “and absolutely incredible. I hope you do it again.”

“But you said you would tell the Elders—”

“—that our race may not be on the verge of extinction after all,” he said with a self-chastising shake of the head. “I should have made that clearer. You are a miracle, Ellie. Very few of our kind still survive. A handful in Pitreavie Castle, a dozen or so in Foulis . . .”

Mama gasped. “But you said it burnt down!”

Cain grinned at her. “I lied.”

“You what?” Mother’s voice rose to a shriek powerful enough to rival the wind. “Do you have any idea how much sorrow—”

“Don’t pretend you’ve never told a falsehood, Aggie.” Cain’s voice was serious, his gaze hard. “I had to know the truth.”

Ellie hesitantly touched her fingertips to the back of his hand. “And now that you do?”

“As far as I’m concerned, the terms of an honorable hunt are these: Return with the prey, or not at all.” He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a warm kiss against the back of her fingers. “If it means losing you, then I choose not at all.”

Ellie pulled her hand away from Cain’s mouth in order to press her lips to his. He responded by pulling her into his lap and sinking his fingers into her hair to deepen the kiss. Ellie didn’t pull away until her fogged brain finally realized that the reins had fallen from her grip and the carriage had meandered to a complete stop.

And that she was kissing a vampire warrior in full view of her mother.

Still human enough to be incapable of fighting the blush flaming across her cheeks, Ellie slid off Cain’s lap to her own seat. She retrieved the fallen ribbons, cleared her throat, and stared fixedly ahead so as not to witness whatever expression her mother currently wore.

Cain brushed her ear softly with the pad of his thumb and nuzzled a kiss across her forehead. He settled his arm about Ellie’s shoulders, then lifted his head to meet her mother’s gaze.

“What do you say, Lady Munro? May I wed your daughter?”

Ellie’s entire body tensed to the point of shattering as her mother took her precious time deciding her response.

“You may
court
her,” Mama said at last, unable to keep a mischievous chuckle from her voice. “Whether she’ll wed you is up to her.”

Cain smiled down at Ellie, his gaze shining with hope and vulnerability. “I love you, Elspeth Ramsay. I would like to spend the rest of infinity at your side. Will you be mine?”

With love and joy overflowing her heart, Ellie returned his gaze with a saucy look. “Do you think me such easy prey as that?” she said with mock affront. “You may spend the rest of infinity
trying
to catch me, hunter.”

“No,” he corrected her softly, “it is you who have caught me.”

She gazed up at him with a smile. “I love you, too.”

This time when he reached for her, she melted blissfully into his arms.

To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

LYRICAL PRESS BOOKS are published by

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Copyright © 2012 by Erica Ridley

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

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First Electronic Edition: June 2016

ISBN: 978-1-5161-0106-1