Born to Bite Bundle Page 6

  “Did ye expect me to blaze like some Hogmanay bonfire?” he asked, mockery thick behind every word.

  “It fair disappoints me that ye havenae, but the sun will soon kill ye, be it slow or swift,” said Callum. “Of course, ye could save your life by telling us what we need to ken. Where are Alice and the bairn?”

  Alice is probably near enough to spit on ye, he thought with grim satisfaction. “Och, nay, I willnae help ye catch her. I ken all too weel the tortures your laird and his ilk would put her through. Her and your son.”

  “That whelp isnae my son!” Callum cursed and glared at Gybbon. “She tries to blame me for her bearing that demon’s spawn, but he didnae grow from my seed.”

  Gybbon felt the rope around his other wrist fall limp. A heartbeat later the hilt of a dagger filled his palm. It was the hardest thing he had ever done but he resisted the urge to hurl it at Callum. He also resisted the need to move. Since he now had Alice’s dagger, he knew she was not planning to cut his legs free of their tethers. That meant she had something else planned, something he hoped would hold the Hunters back as he finished freeing himself. And something, he thought as his insides clenched with anticipation, that did not require any sacrifice from Alice. He would not allow her to trade her freedom for his.

  “It was your seed, ye raping bastard,” Alice said as she leapt to her feet, her bow drawn and an arrow aimed right at Callum’s heart. It took all of her willpower not to let it fly.

  Despite his weakness, Gybbon moved swiftly to cut the ropes at his ankles. Every bone and sinew inside him ached with weariness but he leapt to Alice’s side the moment he was free. One man drew his sword and stepped toward them but the man had barely completed the move when an arrow through his leg took him down. Gybbon glanced at Alice to see that she already had another arrow notched in her bow.

  “Ye are admirably quick with that, lass,” he murmured.

  “Thank ye,” she said. “Now what?”

  “Ye mean this is where all your clever plotting ended?”

  “More or less. I fear I thought it all up a wee bit quickly.”

  He moved to grab his weapons that had been set down not far from where he had been staked out. One quick look toward his horse revealed that the animal was still saddled and only lightly tethered to a tangled bush. Gybbon whistled softly and Resolute easily tugged himself free. In the brief moment the horse crossed in front of Alice, another man tried to rush forward. Gybbon watched as, the moment Resolute moved past Alice, she took the man down with an arrow to the shoulder. She was good, he mused, but she was going to have to overcome her aversion to killing when dealing with men like these. They might not be holding a blade against her throat, but they were still a threat to her life.

  “Keep your bow drawn, lass, and come here to me,” he said quietly as he drew his sword. “Your horse?”

  “A few yards behind us,” she replied as she did as he had ordered.

  “Mount Resolute. We will catch the mare as we pass it.”

  It was not easy, and she had to release her guard on the men for a moment, but Alice mounted the horse. She then resumed her armed watch on the Hunters as Gybbon mounted behind her. She frowned when he caught up the reins and the animal began to back up, but not straight back. It was not until Gybbon cut free the men’s horses, slapping one on its flank with the flat of his sword and sending all the horses trotting away, that she realized what he had planned. Even as the Hunters cried out their fury, Gybbon turned Resolute in the direction she had come, and kicked him into a fast trot. Alice hastily shoved her arrow back into its quiver and slung her bow over her shoulder so that she could hang on.

  When they reached Nightwind, Alice halted Gybbon’s attempt to grab the reins of her horse and keep on riding. She moved nimbly from Resolute’s back to the mare’s. They would travel faster this way, and getting to a shelter was as important as eluding their enemies. The sun would soon be high enough to cause her trouble. She did not want to even think of what it was doing to Gybbon.

  He gave her no chance to ask him how he felt, however. Alice quickly nudged her horse to a pace to keep up with Gybbon as he rode through the forest at a speed that was just short of dangerous. She kept her attention fixed upon the path he led them along for over an hour, ducking low limbs and praying her horse did not stumble. The time had passed in utter silence before Alice thought to ask Gybbon if the Hunters were still on their trail. If he did not think so, they could, perhaps, slow their pace a little to one that did not offer so many chances for disaster.

  When she looked at Gybbon, however, she could not fully smother a gasp of shock. There was no color left in his face and, even as she watched, he swayed in the saddle. He shook himself and sat upright again but Alice doubted he would be able to do that for much longer.

  “Stop,” she ordered. “Stop right now, Gybbon MacNachton.”

  Gybbon reined to a halt and looked at her, all the while fighting to remain conscious enough to get her moving again. “Why?”

  “Because ye are about to fall out of your saddle. The sun has leeched away all your strength,” she said as she dismounted and stepped up beside him.

  “Nay. ’Tis near. The shelter is near. We can reach it if we keep moving.”

  The ease with which she pulled the reins out of his hands alarmed Alice. “Ye willnae make it any farther than the next tree if ye keep on as ye are.”

  “Near enough.”

  He reached for the reins only to sprawl facedown on his horse. Gybbon told himself that he just needed to rest for a moment but he knew that was a lie. He felt as if his bones had turned to water. Ordering himself to rise up, to take the reins back and get Alice to safety did not stir up even the smallest spark of strength.

  “What are ye doing?” he asked as he felt something cover him.

  “I am securing ye to the saddle and covering ye with blankets,” she replied, knotting the ends of a blanket beneath Resolute’s belly. “And dinnae argue with me. Ye are near to falling out of your saddle and I could ne’er get ye back in it if that happened. And I wouldnae have time to try, for I will soon be suffering as ye are if we dinnae get out of this sun. And why, when it so rarely does so, is that cursed sun so bright today?”

  Gybbon did not even have the strength to sigh with relief when she finished covering him up, shielding him from the sun with their blankets. He used that respite to gather what few shreds of strength he could and told her where to go. He did not want to admit that he was no longer sure of how much farther they had to go and was pleased that she did not ask. As Resolute began to move, Gybbon prayed he had not waited too long, pushed himself too hard, or the sleep he was tumbling into could be an eternal one.

  Alice was beginning to feel the dangerous effects of the sun by the time she found the shelter Gybbon had been traveling to. It was an old stone hovel, one of the ones people believed the ancients had left behind, so well shielded from view by trees and vines she had nearly missed it. She was able to rouse Gybbon just enough so that she did not have to drag him inside, but left him where he fell facedown on the dirt floor. Muttering apologies to the horses for her rushed care of them, she tossed the saddles and their packs into the shelter and then secured the animals beneath the heavy shade of the trees.

  Once inside the shelter she spread a blanket over the floor and then dragged and rolled Gybbon’s body onto it. She undressed him and washed his wounds, cursing the Hunters for every bruise and cut Gybbon had suffered. Just as she was about to make certain he still breathed, and ease her growing fear for him, he opened his eyes. Alice frowned when his lips moved but she could hear little more than his breath passing through them. She leaned closer, turning her ear toward his mouth.

  “Blood. Need blood.”

  She sat back on her heels and stared at him, pleased that his eyes were shut again. He would not see her fear. Alice did not understand why she felt that chill at his request. Fear and dislike it though she did, she had long ago accepted the dark hunger that
afflicted her, one that had come from his clan. She had let the children feed from her, seen it only as a necessity to keep them strong and healthy. Then she cursed softly as she realized what held her back. This was a man; this was Gybbon. Alice knew that letting him feed from her would be far more than an act of healing. Every instinct she had told her it would also be an intimate act.

  Cautiously, and silently ridiculing herself for that caution, Alice touched his face. He was cold, so cold that grief clutched at her heart. It felt as if she touched a corpse. She placed her hand over his heart. It beat, but slowly, wearily. It would not be long before it stopped.

  Alice knew she would have to let him feed from her. There was no choice. Even if he was not as close to dying as she feared he was, he needed her blood to heal. Between the weakness caused by the sun and the injuries he had suffered, it would take him a very long time to heal enough to travel. They did not have that time. One of the reasons she and Gybbon had been so successful thus far was that they had never stayed in one place for very long. She also had the strong feeling that she would grieve hard if he died. If it happened because she was too great a coward to let him take her blood, that grief would be tenfold.

  Abruptly, she cursed and bit her wrist. Slipping one arm beneath Gybbon’s head and lifting him up enough so that he would not choke as he fed, she placed her bleeding wrist against his mouth. For a moment his lips remained cold and still against her skin and her blood seeped down over his chin. Alice feared she was too late, that he was already beyond the ability to take what could save him. Then he grabbed hold of her arm and pressed her wrist hard against his mouth. A heartbeat later, he sank his fangs into her skin and began to feed.

  The surge of what Alice could only assume was lust flooded her body. Her breasts quickly grew heavy and the tips hardened, even began to ache in an itchy sort of way. What began to alarm Alice a little was the growing heated fullness between her thighs. With each pull of his mouth upon her wrist, she felt a faint, cramping need low in her belly. And she was getting wet down there, she thought, nearly yanking her wrist away from Gybbon. As if sensing her plan to retreat, he growled softly and held tight. Only her deep need to help him grow strong again held her in place. By the time he stopped feeding, stroked the wound on her wrist with his tongue, and promptly fell unconscious again, Alice was fighting the urge to shove her hand between her legs and stroke herself. That shocked her so much that she pulled away from Gybbon so fast she nearly fell over.

  Was this lust? she wondered, staring at the closed wound on her wrist with utter fascination. Since the only time she had known a man intimately was when Callum had brutally assaulted her, Alice could not be sure. She had not even kissed a man before that horrible night. In truth, she had never kissed a man before Gybbon. Callum had not bothered with kisses. Whatever it was that she had felt, she knew it was no threat to her despite the alarm that rippled through her. Behind all the strange feelings that had just afflicted her was one she had recognized. Need.

  She looked down at Gybbon and sighed. Instinct told her that need could only be fed by Gybbon MacNachton, and not with the blood that dark hunger in her sometimes demanded. If that was true, and what she had just felt was lust, she might be wise to rethink her decision to cast aside the fear Callum had scarred her with and take Gybbon as her lover. Alice was absolutely sure that Gybbon would never hurt her in body, but she could not be sure that he would never shred her heart.

  Chapter Seven

  A sweet-scented warmth was the first thing Gybbon was aware of as he woke up. He glanced down to discover Alice curled up beside him, one slender arm draped over his belly. Then his memories rushed into his mind and he tensed. It took him a moment to calm himself, for his sleep-dulled mind to fully grasp that memories were not a threat. Not an immediate one, at least, he thought as he stroked one hand down Alice’s long, thick hair.

  Peering around, he realized she had gotten him to the shelter, although he recalled nothing of the journey after she had covered him with the blanket. Gybbon was embarrassed by the weakness that had taken him down, by his inability to save himself, but he was also proud of Alice’s courage and strength. She was his; she just did not know it yet. It would require some hard wooing but he was more than willing to work for his prize.

  In the midst of an idle, pleasant dream of the future with Alice as his mate, Gybbon finally became aware of how good he felt. Too good for a man who had suffered the wounds he had and then spent too long in the sun. He should still have a few aches to deal with, yet he felt as if he could easily chase a buck to ground for their next meal.

  He carefully lifted Alice’s small hand from his chest and stared at her wrist. The marks were faint, nearly fully healed, but he recognized them easily. Alice had fed him. Gybbon suddenly feared he had fed too long, left her weak, but a quick, thorough look at her eased his fear. There was color in her cheeks, her breathing was deep and even, and beneath his fingers, the pulse in her wrist was steady and strong. The food and the blood she had taken in over the last few days had done their work. Alice was not only stronger, she was strong enough to give him what he needed to heal and suffer no weakness for it.

  Shifting just a little to free the arm Alice was sleeping on, Gybbon trailed his fingers up and down her spine. He touched his nose to her hair and breathed deeply of her clean scent. Then he frowned and, lifting his head slightly, took another deep breath. He grinned, experienced enough to easily recognize that faint scent in the air. It was arousal. He knew exactly what had stirred Alice’s lust as well. Allowing him to feed from her had obviously stirred her desires.

  Gybbon idly ran his tongue over his lips. He could still taste her sweetness there, feel the bright glory of her blood inside him. The taste of her still lingering in his mouth was a heady one, and one he was eager to taste again.

  He lightly stroked her soft cheek with his fingers. Thus far frustration was his only reward for the desire he felt for Alice, but he hoped the fact that she had let him feed from her indicated that she was finally breaking the chains of fear. When there was an attraction between a man and a woman, a sharing of blood became an extremely intimate act. The arousal that had stirred in Alice, one that still lightly perfumed the air with its tantalizing promise, should have terrified Alice. Yet here she was, curled up against him.

  Gently tilting her face up to his, Gybbon brushed his lips over hers. He felt a twinge of conscience over his plan to seduce her, to use what lusty feelings the feeding had stirred within her to his advantage, but he ignored it. For Alice to completely conquer her fear about all that could happen between a man and a woman, she needed to be shown that it could be pleasurable. She needed to see that lovemaking was not painful, that violence had nothing to do with it. She needed to be shown tenderness and passion so that she could finally begin to heal from the scars of the violence she had suffered at Callum’s cruel hands. Gybbon was certain that once he and Alice had made love, she would lose the fear that ate at her. He was not arrogant or fool enough to think that all her ghosts would disappear, but he felt certain that most of them would.

  Pulling her on top of him, he kissed her awake. The way she quickly roused from her sleep to return his kiss made his body rapidly harden with need. She wore only her thin linen shift, but he ached to tear it from her body. He wanted to be skin to skin with her so badly he could feel a growl of demand gathering in his throat. Weaving his fingers into her thick hair, he plunged his tongue into her mouth, craving the taste of her.

  Alice gasped when Gybbon ceased kissing her and gently scraped his teeth along the side of her throat where her pulse throbbed. She was sprawled on top of his large, naked body in a wanton manner but felt no inclination to move. Her blood ran hot and all the aching need she had thought sleep had conquered now rushed back so swiftly she felt dazed by it. His manhood rose big and hard between her thighs but it stirred no fear inside her.

  “I see ye are healed and strong again,” she said, shivering with delight as his
lightly calloused hands stroked the back of her thighs.

  “Aye.” Gybbon was not surprised when his answer sounded more like a groan than a word, for Alice was rubbing herself against his aching manhood. “I can still taste ye on my tongue. Your blood now races alongside mine.”

  It surprised Alice that she could be so aroused by those words. She had done what she needed to survive over the years, but the dark hunger for blood she had been cursed with had always appalled her. Instead of disgust and shame, she found herself wanting to feel what he did, wanting to taste his blood and make it part of hers. The mere thought of that brought her fangs out. When she lightly nipped his shoulder, letting him feel the sharpness of them, his growl held such hungry pleasure she felt her womb clench with demand.

  “Take your shift off, lass,” he ordered. “I need to feel your flesh against mine.”

  Without hesitation, Alice sat up straddling him and yanked off her shift. He ran his hands up her rib cage and covered her breasts. When he teased her hardened nipples with his thumbs, she closed her eyes and placed her hands over his. He suddenly wrapped one strong arm around her, pulled her down closer to him, and then took the aching tip of her breast deep into his mouth. Alice cried out from the strength of the pleasure that seared through her body.

  Through the haze of desire that was clouding her mind a demand made itself known. Alice realized she was wet and rubbing herself against his warm, hard length. There was an aching hollowness inside her that cried to be filled. It shocked her to admit it but she knew exactly what her body wanted. Her own body’s needs were strangling her blind fear of that part of Gybbon, and she knew she had to take that final step now.

  “Inside,” she gasped. “Get inside.” She started to move off him to lie on her back but he held her in place.