MIDNIGHT CAPTIVE: Book 2 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles (24 page)

“Aye, I have a room for ye.” The innkeeper’s apprehensions seemed to fade only by a margin at hearing they were “married”, but he still eyed them with subtle suspicion. “Come with me.” He nodded to the stout woman behind the counter and she dipped her chin in return.

The gangly innkeeper wiped his hands on his smock as he led them to the back of the noisy room, up the stairs and down the narrow hallway to the last room on the right. “’Tis grand enough for the king,” he snickered as he threw open the door and gestured with an open palm to enter.

The accommodations were sparse and small, but comfortable enough for the two of them.

“Would you bring up a tub and a few buckets of hot water?” James asked and handed him a note.

The man’s protests died upon his lips as he studied the currency. “Aye! I shall have them brought up straight away, sir. And for this price, ye shall have a nice hot meal for ye and yer lovely wife. Fresh baked bread, too.”

“Thank you.” James closed the door behind the innkeeper and faced the window. “Am I right in thinking we are fairly safe from Angus once the day is upon us?”

She glanced toward the darkness outside. “Aye. If his men are following us, though, I am not sure—”

“Oh, I have no doubt we can handle them.” He shuffled to the box bed and sat upon the mattress, the leather supports groaning from his weight. He sighed.

A knock sounded at the door. Cailin scampered to answer it and the stout woman, whom the innkeeper had nodded to earlier, stood in the hall with a tray of two generously filled bowls of stew, a half-loaf of bread and a wide grin upon her face. “My husband tells me you two are famished!”

“You have married a very attentive man, mistress,” Cailin confirmed, returning the grin. “Please, come in.”

The innkeeper’s wife chuckled a merry sound and set the tray upon the small, square table before the hearth. A wee lass resembling the woman followed behind with an earthen pitcher and two mugs in her arms. She smiled her greeting through dirty cheeks framed with blonde braids that matched her mother’s.

“Thank you, Tenny,” the woman said, taking the load from the girl. “Now run along.”

“Aye, mum.” She nodded and ran from the room.

“Och! Dinna run like that, Tenny! Ye nearly knocked me down the stairs!” The innkeeper carried the promised tub and some drying cloths. Two young men followed behind, each carrying a pair of buckets.

Cailin stepped back in the suddenly crowded room and stood beside James, who observed their duties with a smirk on his handsome face.

“Careful now, lads,” the innkeeper instructed as the boys poured the steaming water into the tub. One by one, they all left the room with a smile and a nod.

Cailin closed the door behind them. “Finally, some peace.”

At last James took off his cloak, grunting as he did so. Cailin rushed to his side and tried to help him remove the garment.

“I can do this myself,” he growled.

“’Tis obvious you are in pain. If you will only—”

“I said I can take care of myself,” he snapped.

She struggled to keep her tears at bay. He was furious with her. She knew it. Even though necessity had forced him to hand the daggers to her himself, he must be angry she was—again—the exact opposite of what he wanted. Turning away because she could not stand to watch him grimace through his self-administrations, she searched the room for something to do. What
could
she do?

The drying cloths were neatly stacked on the stool by the tub. The food sat waiting for them to eat. She could pour the beverage! And she did, filling the mugs. Now what?

“Oh, if you must have something with which to occupy yourself,” James groaned, “you can get the cloths I brought for wounds. They’re in my saddlebags.”

Embarrassed her restless nature was so obvious, she cast her eyes down and pulled the saddlebags to the bed. Kneeling, she grabbed the said bandages. “Is this a salve?” She held up the jar she found.

He nodded.

She suppressed a grin when she saw he had also packed a spare change of clothes for her, including a sensible pair of slippers and a chemise. His groan drew her attention once more and she frowned. When she attempted to pull his bloodied shirt back to assess the wound, he shrugged off her attention.

Cailin stood and punched her fists onto her hips. “And just why did you tell them we were married if you did not want my help?”

“What?” He stared at her as if she’d sprouted a tail.

“I assume you told them I was your wife so we could be roomed together. Surely you were seeking some assistance.”

“I just trekked halfway across Scotland to rescue you from that monster. If you think I’m going to let you out of my sight for the sake of reputation, ’tis daft you are.”

“’Tis daft
you
are if you think I’m going to stand by and watch you tend to your own wounds.” Cailin ignored his scowl and scuffled about the room, using the hot water to clean the crusted blood from his skin. Half-covered, he created a tempting vision that forced her to divert her attention away many times so he would not catch her ogling him.

His gentle hand circled her wrist and their eyes met. “If you’re going to tend to my wounds, it would be wise to watch what you’re doing.” His roguish smile made her heart flutter.

She nodded and continued, but gasped when she uncovered his left shoulder, which was also bandaged. “James!” She jumped to her feet. “You have
two
wounds? But why didn’t you tell me you—”

“Cailin.” He glared a warning.

With a huff, she grumbled and snatched fresh bandages. After changing the soiled dressings from his shoulder and cleaning the last of his wounds, she fetched a clean shirt from his saddlebags. James mumbled his thanks, donned the garment and shuffled to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To hire a courier.” He stepped into the hall. “I have to send a message to your family to let them know you’re safe.” His sea-green eyes, worn and half-lidded, searched her face. A tired grin turned up one corner of his mouth before he closed the door.

* * * * *

Broderick’s head whirled with exhaustion, fury and the jumble of words Malloren had thrown at him. “Woman, none of this makes any sense to me so you had better start over and leave out the useless details.”

Malloren breathed a heavy sigh and seated herself at the scroll table again. “The purpose of Davina’s soul is to complete the final milestone of the prophecy.”

“Now stop right there. What in Hades does that mean?”

She closed her eyes as if to brace herself for a blow. “The complete answer is unclear.”

“Sorceress, I vow—”

 
“Forgive me, but I am not given all the facts!” she shouted over his words.
 
“All I know is Davina’s soul is the key to the end of this conflict between you and Angus Campbell, and thereby the key to the prophecy. If either of you dies before the final milestone can be completed, her soul will cease to exist because your conflict will no longer be giving her soul purpose.”

“What does God want with us?” He gathered enough strength to at last rise from the floor and lean on the table, glaring at her. “He plays with all our lives with no regard for our hearts. Is he not supposed to be a god of love?” He snorted in disgust.

“I know none of this is pleasant to hear—”

“An understatement, witch.”

She scowled in disapproval. “If you had been home when Angus abducted Cailin, you would have dueled with Angus and won…thereby destroying Davina’s soul.”

“Cailin? I thought you said he seized my
family
. Did he not also take Davina?”

She shook her head. “I received a vision while we were conversing. James was a good choice as her husband. She is now safe with him.”

Broderick flopped into the chair across from Malloren. “Thank G—” He stopped himself.
God has nothing to do with her safety.
He glared at the ceiling, imagining the clouds through the layers of stone and earth.
I am not finished with you yet.
“Both Davina and Cailin are safe, say you?”

Malloren nodded.

He rested a moment, his head in his hands, grateful his loved ones were out of danger. Raising his head, he asked, “What happens if Davina dies before the final milestone is complete?” Broderick waited, his breath stuck in his chest.

“I honestly don’t know. There is nothing I have read or visions I have seen that indicate disaster.”

“How is that possible if she is the final milestone?”

She sighed and slouched in defeat. “I told you, I don’t know.”

They both brewed in silence before he rose. “I must leave to feed and regain my strength.”

She nodded and recited the incantation to bring down the wall. The oppressive atmosphere lifted. “I believe you know the way out.” She rose from the chair and padded up the stairs to the door opposite the one Broderick would exit. “You should stay here one more day. Sunrise is almost upon us. You will have difficulty finding shelter elsewhere.” She pivoted on her heel and disappeared through the doorway.

Broderick shook his head and clenched his jaw as he glared heavenward. “I swear to you, we are not yet finished.”

Chapter Ten

Using the water, salve and cloths, Cailin tended to her own minor cuts and abrasions, most of them on her arms…grumbling throughout her task over her insufferable betrothed. She cleaned up after herself, set the tiny room to rights as much as possible and waited by the hearth for James to return. The bowl of stew for James grew cold, so she dumped the contents into the cast-iron pot hanging by the fire and swung it near enough to the flames to keep it warm without risking it burning. She rested her chin in her palm, her fingers tapping her cheek.

Eyeing the warm water and cloths, she considered taking a bath. She glanced at the door, then at the tub and back to the door. Throwing her chin forward in defiance, she disrobed with shaking fingers.
If he discovers me nude while I cleanse…well, it would serve him right for being gone so long.
Her sex clenched at the thought. She raised her foot to step into the hot water and stopped, glancing over her shoulder at the entrance again. Exasperated with her cowardice, she stomped to the door and slammed the bolt in place. With a huff of defiance, she returned and stepped into the basin, wincing at the heat against her tender feet. The soothing water eased some of the tension from her body and she sighed.

A soap cake lay on the drying cloths. Taking advantage of this opportunity, she washed the grime and uneasiness from her weary form. She would reapply the salve when finished. Before leaving the tub, she removed the ribbon from her hair and submerged her head and long auburn locks into the water. Rising to her feet, she wrung her tresses, the patter of water droplets mixing with the crackling of the fire.

The door burst open and James stood with his fists clenched at his sides, his legs in a wide, low stance, ready to do battle. The snarl on his face melted into astonishment when his eyes settled on Cailin…and traveled down her naked, wet body. She snatched the cloths on the stool, attempting to cover herself.

James gawked a long moment before he spoke. “God’s blood, Mouse! What are you doing?”

He dashed inside the room and closed the door, turning his back to her. A furious knocking accompanied by protests sounded from the hall. James reached into the sporran at his waist, cracked the door and shoved his hand through the entry. “My apologies, master innkeeper. This should cover the damages. All is well.”

He slammed the door and shoved a chair in front of it, apparently using that in place of the bolt he’d just dislodged with his dramatic entrance.

“What are
you
doing?” Cailin demanded, scampering to the saddlebags to get to her fresh chemise.

Still facing away from her, he paced in front of the hearth. “I knocked but you didn’t answer. I thought…well, I thought someone had...” He growled. “Why did you lock the door?”

“Obviously, so I could bathe in privacy!” She fumbled with her undergarment and managed to pull it over her damp skin, grumbling and cursing at the uncooperative material. Shoving her feet into her slippers, she began plaiting her wet hair and stomped to the door, her gown tucked under her arm.

James grabbed her shoulders and faced her. “Where are you going?”

“I need a few moments to myself. I shall speak with the innkeeper’s wife and make amends.” She tried to shove him away from her, but he held tight.

“Oh, no you don’t! How do you expect us to resolve our differences if you keep running each time we quarrel?”

Cailin gasped and struggled to break free. “I’m not running! I-I’m trying to contain my temper, which I cannot seem to do around you!” She still could not wrest herself from his grip.

“Control your—” He exhaled in exasperation. “Why are you trying to control it? I want it! ’Tis better than what you
have
been doing. What are you afraid of?”

She ceased struggling and barked in his face. “You and your mockery of who I am! Just let us go back and end this farce of a betrothal so you can be free to find the woman you want!”