“Hell, I’m no’ afraid of that.”
“You should be. Our very existence depends on flying under the radar.”
“For God’s sake, Rex, this is Padraig, not Edinburgh or Glasgow,” Viveca said. “Everyone knows we’re here.”
“Discretion is still important. And from now on, your son is on his own. I’ll no longer see to his feedings.”
“But you know what happened the last time.”
“He’ll just have to control himself.” He turned to Markus. “Won’t you?”
“Aye. I’ll control myself. Ouch!” He touched his split lip, which had opened and oozed blood.
“That must have been a strong woman,” Viveca said. “Was she one of those American martial artists or something?”
Markus shook his head. “It wasn’t her. A bloke came after her. He was…” He shook his head again. “I still can’t believe it.”
“Believe what, pet?”
“I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t smelled it myself. He was Voldlak.”
Rex jerked forward. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
Viveca’s mouth dropped into an oval. “Not possible. They don’t exist. They’re a myth.”
Markus coughed up blood and spat into his hand. “Evidently not.”
Chills ran up Rex’s neck as he contemplated his nephew’s words.
Voldlak.
Blood wolves.
The vampire brotherhood had chased all the werewolf packs out of Scotland centuries before. Those had been a mutant race who spread their disease through the bite. Violent and angry, they menaced entire cities, turning as many as they could as vengeance for their own fate. Rex’s people, as well as humankind, were better off without them.
But Voldlak.
Wolf shifters who were born, not made, with a bite so deadly it could kill a human or vampire without even breaking the skin.
The legend had been passed down for millennia, but to Rex’s knowledge, no vampire had ever seen one. Or smelled one. So how would Markus know?
His nephew was such a moron. If he wasn’t the son of his favorite sister…
“You’re mistaken,” he said. “It was a foreigner with a strange scent. That’s all.”
Markus shook his head violently and coughed again. “I swear it wasn’t.”
“But how would you know?”
“Don’t ask me, but I know. Call it intuition.”
Rex scoffed. “There are many things I could call it, Markus, but intuition isn’t one.”
“Rex,” Viveca said, “he may speak the truth.”
“How could he?”
“You know it’s said that the Voldlak are mortal enemies of the vampires, and each know the other instinctively by scent.”
“This is Markus we’re talking about, Viveca. He’s not even a full-blooded vamp.”
Viveca’s green eyes flashed anger. “You promised you’d never mention that!”
Rex exhaled and tried to melt away some of his stress. He wasn’t being fair to his sister. “I’m sorry.” He turned to Markus. “Tell me more.”
“He lives here. I’ve seen him before, but never noticed his scent until last night.”
“You know him, then?”
“Aye.” Markus winced as fresh blood trickled from his mouth wound. “’Twas the younger MacGowan. Damian.”
11
Suzanne’s heart leaped at the thought of seeing Damian. For once, she let the lawyer in her slumber and didn’t stop to analyze her feelings. She ran straight up to her room and flung the door open. He lay upon the bed reading and looked amazing in faded jeans and a simple black T-shirt.
“Hello, love.” His gaze rose to meet hers.
She ran to him and pounced on the bed.
He chuckled and opened his arms. “Happy to see me?”
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes. I don’t know why, but yes.”
She knelt next to him as he feathered his fingers across her cheek. “Perhaps because you recognize in me what has been missing in your life, as I have, in you.”
His mesmerizing jade irises swirled as he gazed into her grey ones. He reached for her hand and kissed it, and then he jolted as he began to nibble on her forearm.
“Where have you been, lass?”
“In town. With Isabella. You knew where I was going.”
“Who touched you?”
Suzanne jerked her arm away. “What do you mean? No one touched me.”
Damian’s eyes swirled and his body tensed against her.
“You’re okay, then?”
“I’m fine. I swear.”
“I don’t want anyone touching you.”
“Don’t worry.”
“No one but me, that is.” His eyes softened. “I want to be the one to touch every part of you. Your body. Your heart. Your soul.”
She sighed. “You say the loveliest things to me.” She took his hand in hers, kissed it, and then touched his fingertips gently. “Your fingers look much better.”
“Some of Merlina’s special salve. I’m a quick healer.”
She smiled. “I’m glad. And your back?”
“Much better, as well.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you?”
“Eventually.”
“How about now?”
“How about you kiss me first?”
He pulled her down on top of him until her body covered his. She met his mouth eagerly, kissed him lightly, and ran the tip of her tongue over his fleshy lips. He responded, parting his lips and tasting her, caressing the inside of her cheeks with his silken tongue. Suzanne sighed into his mouth. She had never tasted anything quite like Damian. His flavor was unique and intoxicating, and she couldn’t get enough of it. Boldly, she deepened the kiss, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, and then bit his lips and tugged on them.