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  He stepped into the clearing and smiled at the four men who looked at him in surprise and then horror. Lachann made no attempt to hide his fangs, the urge to kill now running strong in his blood. “Ye best leave the lass and the bairn be. If ye do, I just may allow ye to live.”

  “So, the demons come to collect their spawn,” said the tallest of the four men.

  Lachann was intrigued by that statement, but his gaze on his enemies never wavered. He would consider the meaning of the words when the battle was done. “Four men against a wee lass and a bairn? Such bravery.”

  “She is naught but a witch, bred of a witch, and she now protects the devil’s spawn. Can ye nay recognize your own?” The tall man turned all his attention on Lachann, his men quickly doing the same.

  “What I recognize is four swine who badly need gutting.” Lachann tossed his sword from hand to hand. “Brave enough to face a mon?”

  “Aye! Brave enough to do God’s work and cut down one of Satan’s dogs!”

  Adeline stared at the man who challenged her enemies. He had appeared out of the shadows without making a sound until he spoke, his deep voice cutting like a well-honed knife through the tension that had held them all in place. She was spellbound, his height and broad shoulders heralding a champion in her eyes. Then she saw his fangs and nearly gasped. Was he like Osgar or was he, too, a threat? His black hair hung past his shoulders, rippling slightly in the dawn breeze. He had a face to make a woman’s heart beat faster, despite those inhuman teeth. Even in the dim light she could see the glint of gold in his eyes.

  Shaking free of her bemusement with her rescuer, Adeline realized no one was watching her or Osgar. She began to edge away from the men, nudging Osgar along behind her. Guilt pinched at her heart. She was leaving the man to face four armed men alone, but she quickly smothered the feeling. Osgar was not able to defend himself. His safety had to be first and foremost in her mind.

  She was almost to the trees when the men attacked her rescuer. He moved so fast that she could barely see each deadly move, only heard the cries of the men who had meant to kill her and Osgar. Two of those men fell to the sweep of her rescuer’s sword before they had even fully engaged him in battle. When another man leapt on her rescuer’s back as he faced the leader of her foes sword to sword, Adeline prepared to throw her knife in an attempt to help him, but he saved himself. He swiftly trotted backward and slammed the man clinging to his back into a tree. The sound of breaking bones made her gasp.

  Adeline scooped up Osgar, her mind ordering her to run, but she could not completely break free of her fascination with the battle. Then her savior attacked the last man with a speed and furious skill that quickly disarmed him. Adeline was just thinking that she could stay where she was now that she had a protector, when her savior sank his teeth into the last man’s throat. She ran, praying she had the speed to escape the seductively beautiful dark angel who had just slain all her enemies.

  Chapter Two

  Lachann rose from the man he had just fed from and cursed. He had not meant to do that but the bloodlust of battle had claimed him. Though his wounds were small, they had bled freely and his body had demanded he feed. It did not surprise him to see that the woman and child had fled. He had loosed the beast every MacNachton had within him, and few Outsiders could face it. It struck him as odd that this time that fear should cause him such a sharp pang.

  He cleaned his sword on the dead man’s clothes and sheathed it. The woman had left behind all her belongings, he realized as he looked around. Lachann suspected she would not go far but he was in no mood to chase after her. He was, however, strangely reluctant to leave her. It was because she and the child were unprotected, he told himself, and a little voice in his head scoffed at his claim. Ignoring that voice, he glanced up at the sky and decided he had the time to wait for her to creep back before he would be forced to seek shelter from the sun.

  After dragging the bodies away from the area and settling his horse, Lachann stood with his eyes closed and just listened, certain he would hear her approach, for Outsiders could not move silently enough to evade the keen hearing of a MacNachton. A moment later he frowned. Why was he hearing cats? Lachann opened his eyes and walked toward the sound. Hidden from view by the pair of sturdy Highland ponies was a cage with two cats in it.

  Lachann smiled even as the cats hissed at him. The cage was large, and dishes for food and water and even a small box of dirt were all tied securely to the bars. An odd scrap of blanket was also set inside for the comfort of the two battle-scarred cats. The woman would definitely return. No one who took such care of two such ragged animals would then desert them.

  “Lass, I ken that ye havenae gone far,” he called out. “There is no need to fear me.”

  Adeline almost answered, reminding the man of how he had just killed four men and supped on one of them. That was enough to make any sane person fear him. She had not run far, knowing it would be both dangerous and foolish to leave behind the ponies and supplies. As silently as she could, she had crept close enough to be able to hear it when the man rode away. She had just prayed that the man would not take all her things when he did leave. Now, after what felt like hours, it was becoming clear to her that he had no intention of leaving. She was immediately wary of his reasons for lingering. Telling herself that she was now facing one foe instead of four did nothing to ease that wariness.

  “If ye make me wait too long, lass, I could become hungry, aye? They say cat tastes much like rabbit and I have always been verra fond of rabbit.”

  “Maman, he is going to hurt Tom and Meg!” cried Osgar.

  She grabbed the boy before he could run back to the clearing. “Hush, Osgar. He will hear you.”

  “Too late,” called the man, the mocking tone in his voice causing her to grit her teeth in annoyance.

  Silently repeating every curse she knew, Adeline tried to think of what to do next. She suspected the man was one of the MacNachtons she had intended to find, but she was no longer certain she wanted Osgar to join that clan. Adeline shivered as she recalled how the man had sunk his teeth into the hunter’s throat. That was not the life she wished for Osgar, a life of killing and feeding upon men as if they were cattle. She now had to consider the possibility that some of the horrific tales she had heard about the MacNachtons were true. If they were, the MacNachtons were the very last people she wished to entrust with the care of Osgar.

  The four men who had crept into her camp had intended to kill her and Osgar. She did not regret their deaths. She did, however, find many reasons to fear her rescuer. The speed and deadly skill he had shown while killing four armed men had been terrifying things to see. But the way he had drunk of that man’s blood had been worse. Adeline cursed, knowing her thoughts were circling but unsure of what to do.

  “Maman?”

  “Hush, Osgar,” Adeline said in as soft a voice as she could manage. “I am thinking. We need a plan.”

  “But, Maman”

  “Can it not wait?”

  “Nay. The mon is here.”

  Adeline lifted her gaze enough to see the pair of deer-hide boots planted so firmly in front of her face she knew they were caught. How did the man move like that, like mist rising from the marsh? The brief hesitation brought on by her surprise cost her dearly. She reached for her knife but his long-fingered hand was firmly wrapped around her wrist before she even touched the hilt. A squeak of surprise escaped her as he yanked her to her feet and, in one swift move, disarmed her, wrapped one strong arm around her, and pinned her arms to her sides. Adeline struggled, drumming her heels against his legs, but he took no notice, fixing his gaze on Osgar.

  “Be still, woman, ere ye hurt yourself.”

  The man’s deep voice made her heart skip and Adeline told herself it was only fear and anger making it do so. “Put me down now,” she ordered, not surprised when he ignored her.

  “Put my maman down or I will bite ye,” said Osgar.

  Lachann stared at the boy fa
cing him with his little fists raised and a dark scowl on his face. He suddenly heard the voice of one of the men he had just killed. So the demons come to collect their spawn. Lachann tensed, anticipation and hope surging through him.

  “What is your name, lad?” he asked.

  “Osgar, and I can bite verra hard.”

  “Can ye now?” Lachann carefully studied the big golden eyes staring up at him. He could see the beast glinting in them despite the fact that the child was too young to be revealing it. “Who was your father?”

  “Dinnae ken. Anne didnae tell me. I think I called him Papa but he went away and didnae come back.”

  Lachann wondered why the child paled a little but before he could ask, the boy was looking belligerent again. “And just who is this Anne that she should know what mon bred ye? This lady?” Lachann was not surprised at how tense and still his captive had become, not after all she had already done to protect the child.

  “Nay. Ye are holding my mither. Anne is the lady whose body I came out of. She cut me and left me in the woods for the beasties to gnaw on. Maman saved me. So, ye had best put her down or I will get verra mean.”

  Lachann looked at the woman he held. She was staring at him, her lovely green eyes filled with fear and mistrust, her temptingly full lips made thin by the way she pressed them together as if afraid to speak. He doubted she had any MacNachton blood in her, yet she cared for a child who was plainly one of the Lost Ones, had even been ready to die to protect the boy. What Lachann needed to do now was to ease her fear and gain her trust. Considering all she had just seen him do, gaining her trust was not going to be easy. He needed it, however, if only to get some answers about why a small boy already had so many of the traits most MacNachtons did not gain until they were older.

  “Ye took the lad in?” After a brief hesitation, she nodded. “He is a MacNachton. He is of my clan, my blood.”

  “How can ye be so certain of that?” Adeline asked.

  Deciding she was both weaponless and easy to hang onto, Lachann loosened his hold on her body but, the moment her feet touched the ground, wrapped his hand around her slim wrists to hold her in place. “Are ye a witch?” he asked, suddenly recalling something else the men had said.

  “Nay, and neither was my mother,” she snapped. “Healers. That is all she was and all I am. Healers. For that they killed her and would, undoubtedly, soon come for me. What Osgar tells ye is true. His birth mother and a man cut him and left him in the woods. I took him in. I am Adeline Dunbar. Two years ago that happened and since then the fools searching the wood for some demon have nearly killed him. Thrice. I decided we needed to leave that place.”

  “We are going to Cambrun,” said Osgar, “where there are people like me.”

  Adeline was not sure why Osgar was now so calm and friendly just because the man no longer held her up like a sack of grain. “I dinnae believe that is any of this mon’s business, Osgar.”

  “Oh, but it is,” said the man. “I am Lachann MacNachton. I have been on a long search for ones we call the Lost Ones and am now headed home to Cambrun. Ye will ride with me.”

  “Nay, we willnae.” She gave a brief attempt to free her wrists from his hold before deciding that all she was accomplishing was to use up her strength in a futile attempt to escape. “I have changed my mind about going to Cambrun.”

  “Because ye saw me kill those men.”

  “Nay, because of what I saw ye do to the last mon ye fought. That isnae what I want for Osgar.”

  “It was the bloodlust of the battle, lass. That and the fact that I had lost some blood. And, whether ye take the lad to his clan or nay, he will become like me.” He frowned at Osgar. “’Tis unusual for the beast to be stirring in one so young.”

  “There is nay a beast in the child!”

  He grinned at her forceful defense of the boy but quickly grew serious again. “MacNachton bairns, especially those born of both MacNachtons and Outsiders, dinnae show the—” he glanced at her scowling face—“spirit the adult MacNachtons do at such a young age. ‘Tis often something else that gives away their heritage. That need for blood if weakened or wounded is usually it, or the weakness caused by the sun. How strong is his weakness? How long can he stay in the sun?”

  “He cannae abide the noon sun.”

  Lachann nodded. “Come along, lad. We can talk o’er all this back at the campsite.”

  Adeline stumbled slightly when Lachann started striding back to the clearing, dragging her along at his side. The only thing that aided her in remaining calm was that the man showed no hesitation in his acceptance of Osgar as one of his own. He showed no hesitation in expecting that Osgar would take his place at Cambrun, either. The latter was not something she was feeling all that sure of at the moment, but her need to flee the man’s side had eased. She was willing to listen.

  “When did ye ken that the lad was different?” Lachann asked as he sat near the fire with Adeline and Osgar, passing his skin of cider around.

  “Immediately,” replied Adeline. “Within moments after I picked him up to take him home with me, he fed from my wrist. His wound had healed but I eventually realized that ‘twas the loss of blood that made him do that.”

  “He fed from ye? Ye didnae have to coax him to it?”

  “Nay. He just did it. Now he tells me when he hurts. He doesnae just bite.”

  Lachann simply could not understand how the boy could be as he was. Full-blooded MacNachton children had not been born for many, many years but there were tales of them, memories kept alive so that they could all learn from the past. No child born of Outsiders and MacNachtons revealed such a need for blood so soon, or the innate skill on how to take it.

  “Why do ye look at him like that?” asked Adeline.

  “I am just trying to understand something that doesnae make any sense,” replied Lachann. “Laddie,” he asked Osgar, “have ye always had the need to feed?”

  “Nay,” replied Osgar. “I did it first just after my fither went away.”

  “Ye were a verra wee lad when Adeline took ye in. Are ye certain ye recall anything about your father?”

  “He was verra big and he said I had to be brave because he had to mark me. I was brave. I ‘member that clear because then he left and he ne’er came back. Then Anne decided to put me out for the beasties.”

  “He marked ye?”

  “’Tis what he said. Right here.” Osgar pulled up his shirt and pointed to a crescent-shaped mark very near his heart. “See? This proves I had a fither because he said this is what fithers do when they love their sons and want to be sure they are safe e’en when he cannae be there to help them. He said if someone tried to hurt me, he would ken and come help me but he didnae come. Maman did.”

  Lachann reached out and lightly touched the scar. “Sweet Jesu, he is a Blooded Son.”

  “What do ye mean?” asked Adeline, gently tugging Osgar’s shirt back down.

  “’Tis an old ritual. Verra old. It was rarely done, for it made the child as much a MacNachton as any adult was. The father bites the child, takes a wee bit of blood, and then feeds his own to the child. Within the week the child is still a child but with an old soul, if ye will. It was a way to protect the child, to help the parent ken exactly when he was in danger. They became bonded in many ways. It can also give the child some added strength and speed so that he can better protect himself despite his small size.”

  Adeline lightly stroked Osgar’s thick black curls. “His father kenned that Anne had become a threat to him and Osgar.”

  “I would guess that is just what happened but the mon couldnae stay just then, so he did what he could to try and protect his son.”

  “Then where is he?”

  “I fear he is dead. A parent who has blooded his child cannae stay away from him for verra long; the bond is that strong. ‘Tis but a guess, but I am thinking he felt the danger was too great to try and take Osgar away with him, that he feared the danger was close enough to make any journey danger
ous, and so he went alone to try and get help.”

  “And they killed him.”

  “Aye, and I suspect this Anne was the one to lead him to his death.” Lachann muttered a few curses, stopping only when he noticed how closely Osgar was paying attention to every word he said. “Again and again I have heard such tales; one of our own led to his death by a woman. None of our men seem to ken that they take their verra lives in their hands when they take up with an Outsider lass.”

  “I beg your pardon.” Adeline scowled at him, insulted even though she could understand his anger. “I believe I am one of these people ye call an Outsider and I havenae led anyone to their death, nor would I.”

  Lachann looked at her and sighed. Revealing his own mistrust of all who were not of his clan was not a good way to win over her trust. He realized he did not fully extend that mistrust to her but doubted she would believe that, especially as he could not explain why he did not feel it as strongly as he should. He hoped it was not just because he felt drawn to her, attracted to her with a strength that left him a little uneasy. Lachann did not want to think he could be such a fool. Just because she saved a child of his clan did not mean she would be as accepting of all of them.

  “We need to go and talk to this Anne,” he said.

  “Ye want us to turn around and go all the way back?” Adeline shook her head. “Nay, that is foolish.”

  “I need to ken who his father is and what has happened to him.”