SHADOWLOVE--STALKERS (10 page)

“Correction—not Mr. but Lord.” He inclined his handsome head, and his green eyes twinkled at her when he brought them back to her face. “I am the Earl of Darby—Lord Chadwick MacFare.”

“Oh—give me a break.”

“No, honestly, I am, not that it matters to me, but there it is…I am titled…and independently wealthy, so ask yourself, why would I want to harm you? What would be the point?”

“You want to put me out there as bait
.”

“Yes, I do mean to use you as bait—and I have been honest about it, so ask yourself, why you should doubt me?”

“It is because you want me for your own agenda. I don’t know when you will be willing to sacrifice me to achieve that agenda.”

“I won’t sacrifice you,” he said gravely.

“But you want to dangle me as bait. Out…just get out.”

He backed her further into the room. “No.”

“No? What do you mean—no?” She wagged a finger at him. “This is my place, my space, and I want you out—now!”

He swept past her and went into the kitchen. There he took the kettle, filled it with water, and put it on the stove. Shawna’s jaw dropped, and her mouth opened with words that didn’t seem to find a voice. She spluttered.

He turned, and his lips curved into a ‘death by smile’ with eyes that tempted with ‘come hither’ lights.

Shawna took a step backwards and pointed a finger this time because he was already in her refrigerator, pulling out cheese and biscuits. “Ah, these will do,” he murmured.

“Will do?” she managed to shout. “OUT—out…you…out.” Oh, she thought, she had a wonderful way with words.

He moved towards her again, but even as his body brushed against hers, he didn’t stop. Instead he went to relax on her brown leather couch. He patted it. “Come, sit with me, lass, and be comfortable until the kettle whistles.”

She stood with her arms folded across her middle. “You have no right to come in here and make yourself at home.”

“Ah, perhaps no right, but I have decided it is the only way for us to proceed.”

“The only way—the only way to proceed to what?”

“Sit and I will tell you.”

Reluctantly she took up a ladies’ chair facing him. “Okay, I am sitting.”

“What kind of research did you do on your neighbors, lass, before you decided to settle here for a time?”

“Research…neighbors? I—I only investigated the area for…what I call reports of unusual murders. No vamps—at least none that I could find.”

“Not very thorough, are you. That is your problem. You have tunnel vision. You are looking for a threat from just one narrow trail.”

She nodded, and she glared at him. “Yeah, I can see that. I’ve got a threat from another angle as well.” She cocked a look at him, and he laughed out loud and slapped his knee.

“Cute—very, but you know I mean you no harm. When will you get that through your beautiful head?”

“When you leave me alone.”

“Not going to happen.”

The kettle let out a long scream for attention. He got up and ignored her as he went into the kitchen, took out a couple of tea bags and asked, “Sugar, milk?”

She got up. “I can fix my own.”

“Oooh, stubborn wench it is.” He watched her as she huffed past him, took her mug, steeped her teabag, grabbed a biscuit and a napkin, and made her way back to the living room and sat with a thump.

She spread her food on her lap, put the tea on the side table, and without looking at him began to eat.

He put out his spread, with butter and jam and cheese and an apple that he had cut up into perfect wedges. She eyed his selection but turned away from it as soon as he glanced her way.

He finished his tea and the spread he had made himself without bothering to engage her in conversation. Then all at once he stood up and jovially announced, “Well, I’m off.”

Shawna was flabbergasted. “You’re off? What do you mean you’re off? You barge in here, and then off you go without even telling me why you came in the first place?”

“I have come to realize that you wish to continue living the way you do until they catch up with you and turn you.
So be it.”
He started for the door.

“They won’t find me—and they won’t turn me.”

“They will do both…” he snapped as he reached the door. “They will find you, and you will be alone, without anyone at your side to help you. You are an annoying, silly, and stubborn little fool. I have lost interest in helping you. I can get to Pentim in other ways.”

“Stubborn…silly little fool?” Shawna was on her feet and rushing for the doorknob before him. She pulled the door wide open and with one dramatic gesture hissed, “Right—so go—just go, Chadwick MacFare, and leave me alone.”

His lips curved, his eyes glittering with annoyance. He inclined his head and stepped outside.

She watched him walk down the flagstone walkway to the silver Jaguar parked on the gravel road beside the cottage lawn. She watched him get inside and start his vehicle. She heard the engine purr and click as he put it into gear, and she watched him make his U-turn and drive away without a backwards glance.

“Good riddance,” Shawna said out loud, but oddly enough, it wasn’t how she felt. Something in the back of her mind told her she might need him one day soon. Her body actually quivered with disappointment. She really hadn’t wanted him to go…

She closed her eyes for a long moment as she gathered all her resolve to forget him and his awful ‘tea time’ visit. She closed the door and looked around. She had to get back to her booby traps inside the house. The rain would be in her way; she would have to leave setting the traps around the outside of the cottage till tomorrow.

Tomorrow…would be a big day. First she would have to set all the traps completely around the entire cottage. She would have to be careful when repeating the ancient spells. That should stop any vamp in his tracks and give her enough time to get the upper hand.

And then, then she had to go into Inverness. There could be no putting it off any longer. She needed her supply of pig’s blood. Blood sausage was popular in Scotland; no one would wonder at it.

She could only store it on a weekly basis, as she needed it to be fresh. In New York she was able to use many different butchers, and each was given a different story.

She couldn’t use the butcher in the village—they would wonder what just one person needed with so much pig’s blood.

She would leave that for a one-time deal, perhaps in an emergency. However, Inverness was a large enough metropolis, and she had found three butchers there between whom she planned to alternate. The quart of butcher blood that she had placed in a refrigerated container and paid for to go with her luggage would soon be finished.

She hated relying on blood. She knew that she could hunt, if she needed to, but that wasn’t an option for Shawna. She loved animals, and killing any had to be the very last resort.

Sighing as a wayward picture of Chad MacFare slipped through her mind, she picked up a roll of the electric wire she had purchased and got to work.

* * *

Shawna maneuvered her Jeep from the Stockton country road onto the A9 and headed north to Inverness. It would be an easy drive. She had her list, a map, and a GPS, so she was confident she would find her way.

She was excited about her first real excursion into Scotland. She meant to head towards the
city centre
, even though it
meant diverting off course just a little to have a peek at the Inverness Castle, which overlooked the River Ness.

Chadwick MacFare’s face tickled her mind’s eye. He thought he knew what she was, but he didn’t. All he knew was that Pentim Rawley had fathered her. There was so much more he couldn’t possibly know—so much even Pentim did not know, because he hadn’t known what her mother had been, or what her grandmother was.

Rachel had been the daughter of a long line of powerful white witches. Rachel had not reached her full maturity, and she was only just coming into her mana when Pentim decided to turn her.

She had been able to fight off Pentim’s blood with her magic, and that was why she had not turned, but in the end, it was his blood that finally killed her.

Shawna had inherited all her maternal family’s magical prowess. Her grandmother had trained her in the use of same. Her grandfather was a sorcerer whose magic was unparalleled. Shawna’s innate skills were made even stronger because of the vampire blood that was a part of her DNA.

Shawna was probably the most powerful witch of her time, and she knew it. She had to constantly remind herself to keep it in check. She wanted the edge of ‘surprise’ to be on her side, when she finally had to face Pentim and take him down. She knew that eventually there would be no other option…

She was afraid, however, because Chad had been correct when he told her that Pentim’s clan not only outnumbered her but had ‘special’ abilities. Against great numbers, she could be subdued.

He was also right about not being able to run forever. She didn’t want to. She knew one day she would have to face her father in a ‘to the death’ battle. She just wasn’t ready yet.

For the time being, she had to lie low. She wouldn’t be at full power until she turned twenty-five years old. Would she last that long?

She had more than vampire magic—more than white witch magic—going for her. She was a fighter. She had the speed, the technique of a super ninja, and the acrobatics of a gymnast, skills she had acquired from her grandparents’ vigorous training.

She shook off these thoughts and concentrated on the list of things she needed. One: a new phone for sure, not that it would stop Chad MacFare—who no longer needed to be stopped as he had walked away from her.

That still irritated her. She had not expected it. He had not called or showed up, and so he was presently out of the picture. She discovered that disturbing on levels she didn’t want to contemplate.

She missed her grandparents and the long talks she used to have with them. She needed a new phone. Her grandmother had the power to see through airspace and find her, but Shawna knew that her grams did not like to use that power. Her grandmother was concerned that Pentim might feel the power in the air and lock onto it.

“So there, Chad MacFare—I can manage quite well without you,” Shawna said out loud as she drove. “You think I am running, but I am not. I am honing my skills until the day comes when I can stop running—turn around, and take Pentim out. He is surrounded by his clan, but I’m going in, and I am going to be the one to kill him!” That belief curved her lips with satisfaction.

It didn’t take her long to find the River Ness, park her car, and take a stroll by its edge. Shawna stared up at the Inverness Castle with longing. She had to find the time to go there and explore. How she loved castles, ancient manors, Scottish and Irish history. However, she had to go to the market, get what she needed, and return home. She needed to get to the woods before nightfall and practice a skill she would need sometime very soon.

* * *

Pentim Rawley had a young girl in his arms. She was no more than fifteen and in shock. He had taken her from the streets during the night and had used her body until she fell unconscious. Now he meant to drain her. He liked the blood of the young ones. He was sure it made him more potent…

Some of his clan were already retiring to their quarters, although a few looked back longingly at the child he held in his arms. They had all fed that evening, but they always wanted what
he
had.

He would always have to reign supreme…by watching his back, by accumulating power through them, turning one against the other so that none knew whom they could trust.

He bent towards the girl, and as he started to sink his fangs into her delicate neck, he got one of his visions, making him pause. It was a shadow vision, and it swirled in his brain, obliterating all thought. There was a black cloud, and someone moved within its tornado of dark grays. It was a tall, powerful man—not quite human, and he wielded a sword…

There was an aura around the stranger. His body vibrated with power and magic, and as he lifted his sword, Pentim, who never felt fear any longer, felt a tremor scurry up his spine.

The vision vanished, and Pentim knew at once that he and his clan would have to relocate soon. He was wealthy beyond imagination, so moving would be an easy thing. He would leave as soon as they found another suitable castle—perhaps outside Florence, in the hills. Ah, yes, they could feed on unsuspecting tourists…

He returned to the poor child in his arms and, without thought to the life he was taking, sank his sharp fangs!

~ Seven ~

SHAWNA WALKED ACROSS the busy avenue to where her Jeep was parked. Her silver eyes were veiled as she glanced around in what she hoped was a casual style. She needed to know who was in her vicinity at all times, if she were to survive.

That was when she saw him in the shadows of a nearby alley.

He wore a black baseball cap pulled low over his forehead, but she would have known him anywhere. Damon had a certain flare, a sure, grim moodiness, an aura all his own as he held himself aloof, apart from all others.