Vampire mac, p.1

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Vampire- Mac

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Vampire- Mac






  A.B. LEE

  Copyright © 2016, M L Briers

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced whatsoever without written permission of the author, except for brief exerts in reviews. Any unauthorised reproduction or distribution of the material herein is illegal and may result in criminal proceedings. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to the internet or distributed via electronic or print without prior consent.

  Note from the Author;

  All names, places, and incidents contained herein are purely fictional and have no basis in actual events or linked to actual Humans, Witches, Vampires, Werewolves, Lycans, Werebears or persons living, dead or undead.

  Table of Contents























  She looked like Moira. Not like a carbon copy or a doppelganger, but there was something beyond the flame red hair and those green eyes that jogged my memory and caught my eye.

  Maybe it was because I was finally home after so many years wandering in other parts of the world, never staying too long in one place for people to recognise the fact that I was Peter Pan’s evil kin and that aging wasn’t a problem for me- or maybe she was kin to the woman I had known over a hundred years ago, but one thing was certain, when she caught my eye she held it in more ways than one.

  I hadn’t been back to the highlands in so long- and yet, apart from the odd, shiny tin metal barn roof, and those imposing eco-windmills dotting the landscape, I could have travelled back in time. Nothing much had changed.

  Steep jagged hills, the majesty of the Munroe’s, and rolling landscapes- boulders the size of a car pressed up against ones that were the size of a house. Green, brown, blue, and purple covered the landscape in equal measures, and the crystal clear lochs that interspersed the glens- beautiful.

  All that was missing was the Tartan. It seemed that people had moved on from their native dress- unless they were catering for the tourists or getting married.

  Still, Scotland was in my blood and always would be.

  I still had a slight brogue to my voice- more so when I stepped foot back on home soil, but maybe to the untrained ear those years spent everywhere else had silenced the Scot’s voice in me, but never in my heart. This was my land, my people, and damn, but that women looked like home to me.

  Hair the colour of fire and with a temper to match, no doubt. Her green eyes smiled at me across the great divide of a shopping trolley filled with two chubby faced infants that vied for their mother’s attention- thankfully, she wasn’t their mother.

  When the first child let out a wail that sounded like a Banshee’s scream to my sensitive ears, I know I flinched, but then so did she, and she jumped in place as the siren wailed from the wee lad’s large lungs.

  That broke the spell that had been cast between us. She took off in one direction and I in the other. It was that or jump over the damned trolley to follow her, and I wasn’t about to draw that kind of attention towards myself, all to escape the wailings of a child.

  But it didn’t mean that I’d given up. I’d seen no ring on her wedding finger, and a look in her eyes said that she was interested. How could she not be?

  Not to blow my own horn, but I hadn’t hit any of the branches of the ugly tree on the way down. I was in my prime and always would be. And then there was the helpful nature of being a vampire and having women drawn to me without them even knowing why- no, she was a fly caught in my web, all I needed to do was to devour her.

  I remembered the pesky little security cameras and kept my speed within explainable limits. Skirting around an old woman as she dithered along, rounding the sales basket at the bottom of the aisle, and pulling up short when I didn’t encounter my target coming the other way.


  Damn it. I would like to have known her family name- seen if she was truly Moira’s kin. But where had she gone and why had she disappeared so damn fast?

  At first she’s looked at me like I was all her Christmases rolled into one, and then that look had changed, but it was caged behind a smile that had hardly faltered- still, something in her manner had me questioning her, a nagging feeling that overrode my obvious attraction towards her.

  I’d lived long and loved many women, and yet, I’d never really loved any of them- not in the way that I would have loved a true mate. I didn’t pine- I didn’t search- I waited for the day that fate would send my mate to me, for that was all that I could do.

  In the meantime; there were more than enough fish in the sea for me to continue to dip my toe into those cold waters, and if that woman was anything to go by, being home would be a welcome change.

  I paid for my meagre purchases and left the shop behind. Night was closing in and it was my favourite time in the highlands. A night that never really fell, a sky that always had a hint of light blue about it unless the clouds were thick or the mists rolled in, but a majesty about the land that made you truly humble with your place on the planet- not to mention the fact that I could run as fast as I liked and not be seen by anyone, because there wasn’t a soul for miles.

  That was when I saw her again- sitting behind the wheel of what I hoped was her car and she wasn’t some chancer thief- turning the key in the ignition as only a woman can- over and over and expecting something different to happen when the only sound was a dull thud…

  “I think it’s dead, lass.” I offered from beside the closed window and her head snapped around in my direction as her eyes took me in, widening for a heartbeat, and then narrowing on me as the pulse beat wildly in her neck.

  There was something of a hysterical chuckle that came from her lips before she snapped the sound off, and my Spidey senses were on alert again by her whole demeanour. Tension wracked her body and her hands fisted the steering wheel as if she was wringing out a wet clothe.

  “Pop the bonnet and I’ll give it a look,” I offered, but she didn’t move a muscle, “Or I could give you a lift-”

  “No!” She shook her head fast, too fast- she knew me, not me, but what I was- I was so sure that I could taste it on my tongue. It was the look of fear in her eyes- I remembered that look well from days gone by when I was less controlled in my feeding, but how the hell did she know?

  “I don’t bite,” I teased her just to see what she would do. Those green eyes widened again for another heartbeat, her eyes dropped to my lips and snapped back again, and another hysterical snort of laughter came from those full lips.

  “Yeah!” She angled her head away from me, not willing to meet my eyes again, and I felt that loss.

  I was more than curious now. I rested my arm against the top of the car and leaned down towards the window, making a rolling sign with my finger as she tried to ignore it.

  “Roll down the window,” I said- putting just a little nudge of suggestion behind it. Her eyes snapped towards mine- locked in my gaze- snared there so I could take my own sweet time if I wanted. She hadn’t obliged so it was time to up the stakes. “Get out of the car and come with me.”

  I didn’t feel a moment’s guilt as I used the
power of suggestion to make her comply. I figured that if she knew what I was then I had a need to find out how. If there were others that knew my secret then I’d never be safe here again- could never return to my homeland.

  I stepped back; opening the door and allowing her the room to get out. Her eyes never left mine as if she was seeking further instructions. She might have known what I was, but she hadn’t taken any steps to shield herself from the powers that went with being supernatural- so not a witch.

  The pulse in her neck was wild. I could hear her blood rushing through her veins- it called to me to taste her. I lifted my hand and ran my fingertips down the smooth skin of her bare arm and her eyes flared…

  “Relax, you’re safe with me…” for now.

  I didn’t want to have to kill this woman- I wanted to taste her, damn, did I. My fangs were pressing against my gums, demanding my attention with the uttermost urgency- so that I didn’t lose it right in the damn car park.

  I led her to my car and opened the passenger door, whispering for her to get in, and she slipped down into the seat with a certain amount of grace that made me hard for her, and my mind spun out with so many damn erotic thoughts about taking her body, mind, and soul- and blood- that I actually felt self-conscious for once.

  I had to force myself to close the door and lock her inside those metal walls away from me, then force myself to walk around to the other side of the car. I would have followed her right inside if I could have…

  Starting the engine and tooling the car out of the car park was the easy part as she sat silently beside me. Trying to keep my damn attention from drifting from the road and back to her every second was the torture that I had to endure all the way home.




  I don’t know how many times it was that I had the urge to pull over on the side of the road and get to know her better- a lot better, and a so many times that I would have lost count. Now that she was safely within the confines of my home; I could do as I pleased with no prying eyes to catch me and nothing to hold me back- nothing except her.

  She might still have been under my spell, and yet the way that she looked at me I could have sworn that she knew her own mind. I reached out and wrapped an arm around her back, hauling her soft body against my hard one, and I revelled in the feel of just how well we fitted together…

  There was no fear in her eyes because I’d allayed her fears, but there was no breathless passion that a lover could expect from another either, and that was a damn shame.

  “Tell me your name,” I demanded.

  “Maggie,” her soft tones washed over my senses. It felt good- it had been a while since a woman had affected me in this way- I’d missed that buzz.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “Declan MacDonald,” so she did know me, “born in seventeen sixty two.” Damn if those words didn’t make my heart race along with my brain. “Vampire.”

  Now what the hell was I supposed to do?

  Kill her?

  Kill her family?

  I didn’t even know if she had kin- I didn’t know who else knew about me, and just looking into those green eyes; I couldn’t really entertain the thought of ending that spark of life.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Family history- a warning from one generation to the next.”

  “How many know of me?”

  “Just me- I’m the last of my line.”

  Like me she was alone- unlike me she could go on to have kin. That was if I allowed her to live- and damn I wanted nothing more, but there were rules about humans knowing us…

  I reached up and ran my fingertips down her cheek. It would be a waste of life to end her- a travesty, another nail in the coffin of my humanity.

  “Maggie- Maggie,” I sighed inwardly, feeling the heavy burden of my kind on my shoulders. She’d kept my secret thus far, could I expect her to keep it forever now that she’d seen me, now that I was back?

  I could pack up and leave. Suggest that she’d never seen me- encountered me, and that she didn’t know of me… but that also seemed like a damn waste, especially when every fibre of my being wanted to know her better.

  The scent of her blood was intoxicating- I knew just how it would taste on my tongue, sliding down the back of my throat. My fangs pushed down, only a little, but I hadn’t felt such loss of control in a very long time.

  I was almost certain of one thing- she was mine- my love- my life- my mate, and if that was true then she had an ace in the hole where the whole human’s must die thing came into force. A mated human- although expected to be turned into a vampire- couldn’t be harmed, at least not be me or the rational element of my kind.

  If she was mine then I had an out and so did she- or I could just make her forget me and walk away right here and right now, nobody need ever know that Miss Maggie knew about vampires…

  “Well, who’s the mannequin, takeout?” The lilt of his voice said Irish, and there was only one man that would turn up at my door unannounced and expect to live…

  I turned to find the familiar smiling eyes of the lofty Irishman, Shamus grinned back at me like a damned idiot- we always seemed to be on opposite sides of the world and hadn’t caught up in years…

  “Not for sharing,” I turned my whole body towards him and kept Maggie at my back. We might have been long time friends, Shamus and I, but people change, especially vampires, and I’d heard about his mate dying, “Sorry for your loss, Naima was one of a kind.”

  I saw the pain cloud his face. I couldn’t say that I knew what he was feeling, never having loved a woman like that, but I could guess at the pain stabbing at his heart.

  “Yeah, she was one of the best of us,” Shamus nodded his head.

  “I heard vengeance was served,” I added- in our world news travels fast, especially when vampires kill vampires.

  “It was.”

  “How is Vance?” I was cataloguing everything. The way he stood, the way he breathed, held his muscles, any sign of a tell that told me that he was planning on attacking…

  “Same old asshole. I came to see if you’re still one,” Shamus’s grin widened.

  “I think you’re looking in the mirror there, friend.”

  “Are we?” Shamus asked- throwing me of balance for a moment as I was deciding how best to protect Maggie from him.


  “Friends?” Shamus asked. “Only I’m still standing in your damn doorway.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. The man never changed, blunt and to the point, just the way I liked it.

  “Well, it’s not like you need an invite,” I offered back.

  “Ah, you know me, Mac. I never stay where I’m not wanted,” Shamus shamed me. We had been friends for going on a century, off and on and I wasn’t showing him the hospitality that deserved and was treating him like a pariah.

  “You know you’re always welcome in my home, you dumb Irishman.”

  “Alright, Scottie, stash your fangs and your claws.”

  “You know, you might be walking in on your feet, but you can always leave on your ass.”

  Shamus’s chuckle was warm as rich. He strolled in like a caged beast; his eyes flicked around for signs of trouble, and he held his frame tight- as if expecting some.

  “So, still like redheads I see. Is she lunch?” Shamus asked nodding his head towards Maggie.

  I couldn’t help the rush of anger that swept through me. I guess finding your possible mate was bound to kick off that protective gene, now more than ever when faced with a vampire as old as I was and who wouldn’t be that easy to put down.

  I tried to curb the irrational rush of emotion- if Shamus had a reason to be here, other than a friendly visit- I needed to find that out before I played my hand.



  “Something like that.” I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell the whole truth.

  “Wanna share?” Shamus grinned, luckily for him the
re was no hint of his fangs.

  “You know me, I don’t like to share my food…”

  “Kind of like- touch my food, feel my fork, but with fangs,” Shamus chuckled again.

  “Something like that, yeah.” He’d certainly feel my damn fangs if he made a move on her. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but why are you here?”

  “Thought I’d stop by on my way to nowhere in particular. I’d heard through the grapevine that you were back home- what’s it been, a hundred years or so?”

  I motioned for him to go ahead of me into the living room. Reaching out; I snagged my hand around Maggie’s wrist and felt an overwhelming sense of need stab me right in the gut… if she wasn’t my damn mate then I didn’t know what the hell was going on between us.

  Keeping her behind me; I followed the big Irishman into the living room and stashed Maggie in a chair at the furthest end of the room.

  “About that, but you know Scotland- nothing much changes, even after all that time.”

  “Could say the same about Ireland- not that I’ve been back in a while.” His eyes flicked towards Maggie and every muscle in my body stiffened- ready to attack him, ready to defend her with my life if it came to it. “Jesus, Mac, relax. I’m not going to drink your mate.”

  That stopped me in my tracks. Shamus always was a good judge of character and mood, and what he saw usually came to pass.

  “What, you’re just figuring it out or something?” Shamus chuckled to himself, but the look on my face must have given the game away. “Jesus, Mac, you are, aren’t you?” He chuckled harder.

  “Screw you, pour us both a damn drink. I certainly need one.” I flopped down in one of the chairs and watched him move towards the booze. My mind was calculating every step that he took, how many steps it would take him to reach Maggie, how many it would take for me to get between them…

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