Highland Thirst by Lynsay Sands, Hannah Howell Page A

nay about to sink something sharp into my neck?” she
whispered back.
    If
he was not in so much pain and fighting to control the hunger the sight of her
slim, lovely neck stirred inside of him, he would have laughed. “Aye, but just
as I was able to make sure Peter didnae bleed to death, I can make it so that
ye are barely aware of what I do.”
    Her
eyes grew wide when she felt him lick her neck, causing a river of heat to
suddenly flow through her body. Brona was just trying to figure out what that
was when she felt a sharp pain immediately followed by more of that heady fire.
She could feel him drawing the blood from her body, but all of her fear was
gone, replaced by what she was beginning to think was pure, hot lust.
    He
stroked her back lightly with one hand and gently rubbed the back of her neck
with the other, his touch becoming stronger and more sure with each passing
beat of her heart. Brona had the strongest urge to rub her body against his, to
relieve a sudden ache in her breasts and her groin, but she held herself as
still as she could, all too aware of the other men watching her. Just as she
began to think she was going to have to rub against him or go mad, he was
licking her throat again. Dazed though she was, Brona actually had to bite back
a protest when Colin lifted her away from Sir Heming.
    Heming
closed his eyes and felt the magic of her blood flow through his body. It had
been difficult to stop, even more difficult not to start to make love to her.
There was a deep ache in his body at the moment that had nothing to do with his
injuries. He took a deep, slow breath to try to calm the lust raging inside of
him and for the first time in days, felt no pain as he did so. Brona’s elixir
was already working its magic and, to his utter astonishment, doing so as
swiftly as the rich blood of a Pureblood of his clan, even an Elder. He had
never heard of an Outsider’s blood being so potent.
    Brona
struggled to shake off the effects of the strange feelings Sir Heming had
stirred inside of her and found Colin, Fergus, and Peter all staring at her
neck. “Is it bleeding?” she asked and hastily touched the place where Sir
Heming had bitten her, but could feel nothing, which was very strange indeed.
    “Nay,”
answered Colin. “‘Tis fine. Looks like nay more than a wee love bite.”
    “What
is a love bite?”
    “Ah,
weel, ‘tis when a mon has a wee nibble on a lassie’s neck—“
    “Hush,
Colin,” snapped Peter. “Ye dinnae talk of such things with a weelborn lass and
a maid.”
    “Actually,
I was rather interested in what he had to say,” said Brona.
    “Sweet
Jesu!” cried Fergus.
    Turning
to see Colin’s brother staring wide-eyed at Sir Heming and crossing himself,
Brona quickly looked at Sir Heming. For a moment she feared he had died despite
taking her blood, or, God forbid, her blood had poisoned him, but she could see
that he was still breathing. In fact, he was breathing very well, deeply and
evenly and not even wincing a little as he did so. Looking at his face, she
gasped along with Colin and Peter. She could actually see the bruises and
swelling fading. She glanced down at his broad chest and watched the lash marks
and knife slashes slowly fade away as well.
    “Ye
must have some verra powerful blood, mistress,” muttered Colin.
    “Are
ye still sure he isnae a demon?” asked Fergus in a slightly unsteady whisper.
    “He
isnae a demon. I dinnae e’en feel faint so he didnae take much blood from me.
And I am quite certain I still have my soul.” She shook her head. “‘Tis
miraculous.”
    “This
is what the laird seeks,” said Peter.
    “And
‘tis something I cannae give him e’en if I wanted to,” said Heming as he opened
his eyes, speaking to Peter but staring at Brona. “‘Tis something that is
unique to the MacNachtons, something that has been a part of us forever. The
clan is ancient, as are these gifts.”
    Heming
finally looked at the men, although it was hard to tear