Highland Vampire by Hannah Howell, Deborah Raleigh, Adrienne Basso

alarming look upon your face." Malcolm nodded when Jankyn cursed. "I finally managed to get him to believe that blind rage had given ye such power, and weel, wasnae it shown by your near swoon afterward that ye had used up all your strength and may have e'en injured yourself a wee bit."
    "Ye feel certain he willnae be telling that tale to anyone else?"
    "Aye, e'en if he thinks on it all again and begins to doubt all my clever explanations. I made it verra clear that I wouldnae be pleased to hear such tales spread about the clan my most beloved cousin is now a part of. I didnae threaten to retaliate by revealing a few embarrassing truths about his family, but he understood the implication. The important question is, is he the only one who saw ye that day? He believes 'tis only those two men and the lady who whisper about ye, but one hopes there is no one else who saw ye and thus can affirm those spreading rumors."
    After cursing again over that dire possibility, Jankyn hastily finished the work he had been in the midst of when Malcolm had arrived. The moment he was done, he collected up his completed work and started out of the room, Malcolm at his heels, obviously intending to tightly lock the gates after Jankyn had left. Jankyn knew he was close to unlocking a few secrets about his bloodlines, but the security of the MacNachton secrets and Efrica's safety were far more important. He could always pay Malcolm handsomely to continue the work for him, knowing the man would protect the MacNachton secrets as well as he protected those of his own clan. After all, people descended from some pagan priestess rumored to be a shape-shifter could be marked as demons and the devil's minions as easily as any MacNachton.
    Once back at the castle, Jankyn hurried to his chambers to secure his work and wash the ink from his hands. He then went in search of Efrica, needing to see with his own eyes that she was safe and was well aware of the danger stalking her little heels. An odd noise echoed through the hallway, and Jankyn halted, hoping the noise would come again so that he could determine exactly where it was coming from and whether or not he should trail it to its source.
    "Cursed cats," muttered a man who hurried past Jankyn. "Hate the sly beasts, but they keep the vermin under control, aye?"
    Jankyn murmured a polite agreement and the man disappeared into a room. Now Jankyn knew why the sound had so firmly caught his interest. It was similar to the one a cat made when caught in a fight. This cat, however, was probably facing two-legged vermin she would not be able to control. He listened intently, thankful for the empty silence of the hallway he stood in, and was rewarded with a soft sound that unmistakably was a hiss. Clinging to the shadows, moving swiftly and silently, Jankyn headed in the direction the sound had come from, a sound that told him a Callan was in danger. Instinct told him that it was Efrica, and he felt his blood heat with fury and the thrill of the hunt.
     
    With her back against the cold, stone wall and the two men in front of her, Efrica could see no clear route of escape. She had thought she had been cautious enough to be safe but had obviously not been as careful as she could have been, for she had given these men the chance they had clearly been waiting for. It had never occurred to her that she might need a bodyguard to make a quick trip to the privy. The fact that both men were bleeding from wounds she had inflicted did please her, but she knew those wounds were going to cost her dearly if she did not get away.
    They lunged at her and she did her best to keep both men from getting a firm grip on her at the same time. This time they were not deceived by her small size or her sex into thinking it would be easy to capture and hold her. Once Lachlan slammed her against the wall so hard she was surprised she did not feel or hear a bone crack. She decided they were definitely planning to make her suffer for the