The Vampire Laird (A Ravynne Sisters Paranormal Mystery/Romance) by Merabeth James

ways you can hurt a man without a gun, Meg.”
    “I only know one. A good kick in his…you know.”
    “Have you ever had to use that?”
    “Only once,” Meg said pensively.
    “Once?”
    “I ended up taking care of him till he recovered, but luckily by then he had lost the urge.”
    Meg was so…well Meg…and Charlie found herself smiling. “I hope you know how much I love you,” she told her, putting her arm around her shoulder.
    “I know and ditto!” she replied, returning her hug.
    They were quiet after that, as they continued on their way back to the manse. There were several howls…a few rustles…but they kept going. The graveyard was really eerie in the moonlight and they hurried through, only too aware of all the hiding places behind the tombstones that jutted out of the tall, thick grass. Stepping into the entry hall of the manse, they both sighed in relief. “I was more afraid of what I felt stirring about in the graveyard than I was of whoever was following us,” Meg said. “There was a man sitting on the gravestone just left of the path. I could see right through him. And there was a little girl wandering among the yew trees, looking for her mother. It was so sad…awful…and really scary.”
    Charlie sighed and took her hand, pulling her up the stairs. “Meg…you get first dibs on the lavey. You’re safe with me, you know. I won’t let anyone ever hurt you.”
    Meg nodded but didn’t reply. Collecting her night things, she was thoughtful, as she headed to the bathroom, remembering how close she had come to dying despite Charlie’s best efforts. There were things out there no one could protect you from no matter how much they loved you.
    Later that night they lay in bed listening to the night sounds. “Charlie?”
    “Yes, Meg?”
    “I don’t want you to feel like I’m your responsibility all the time. I’m not. Someday you may not be there at the precise moment I need you and that will be okay. I don’t ever want you to think you failed me in some way…feel guilty for not saving me from something. I have my own destiny that nothing can save me from…even you.”
    There was quiet on the other side of the room. Meg never dreamt her big sister was crying into her pillow. Never imagined how often her sister had dreaded that very thing…not being there…not being strong enough or quick enough. Like before when Devon and his demonic father had almost destroyed her.
    “Charlie? Didn’t you hear a word I just said?”
    “Sorry…I must have been asleep,” Charlie managed to say, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.
    “Humph! I should have known.”
    “Was it important?”
    “Yes…but I’ll save it for another time. Good night, Charlie.”
    “Good night, Meg,” she whispered into the dark.
    They were both sound asleep when the slim figure in filmy white emerged from the mausoleum and drifted to a spot below their window. Eyes wide with entreaty, she opened her mouth and uttered a soft long drawn out wail. Her long white fingers beckoned beseechingly and then she simply vanished.
    ***
    The next morning Meg asked Charlie for a plastic bag. “The only thing I have is the one I have my makeup in.”
    “And what is this bag for, may I ask?” her sister said, digging about in her suitcase till she found a zip-lock she had emptied.
    “You’ll see,” Meg told her cryptically, as she opened the door and headed down the hall to breakfast.
    Just as Meg had feared the haggis made a second appearance that morning. Tilda grunted as she shoved the plate under her nose. “Tis guid fer breakfast tay,” she told her with one of her snorts.
    “Looks yummy,” Meg said with a sunny smile that Charlie knew she couldn’t possibly mean. Sure enough, as soon as Tilda left for the kitchen and Angus was busy pushing his eggs around his plate, Meg scooped the haggis into her zip-lock and shoved it into her jeans pocket.
    Returning from the kitchen, Tilda’s eyes narrowed to mere slits