Chapter Nine: Something Wicked

Kane had not been asleep long when Jamie's shrieking screams woke him. He'd launched himself out of his chair, terrified that she was dying from some sort of poisonous overdose, but he'd started to calm down when he realized she was just having a nightmare. A horrible one from the looks of it, but a nightmare nonetheless. As soon as he began to shush her and rock her in his arms, she quickly settled. The nightmare was over.

But then he had felt her hands cling to his back, her fingers digging into the muscles above his shoulder blades. He could feel her heart pounding against his again after it had initially slowed. Now it was hammering as she gave a soft moan that nearly undid him. Suddenly, his desire to protect her was replaced. He groaned when he felt her shift in his lap, her ass rubbing against his now very hard shaft. Goosebumps riddled her soft flesh.

When he pulled back to look at her, his desire hit a fever pitch. She was looking at him longingly, her gaze as hungry as he surely was. All he could think about was kissing her and as his gaze dropped to her mouth, she licked her plump lips.

All of the doubt, the reticence, the guilt, all of it washed away at the sight of her lustful gaze. Rationality and determination melted as he looked into her eyes and saw the need reflecting his own. He couldn't stop himself. Without thinking, he caressed his thumb over her bottom lip. When she gave a shivering sigh, it was over.

His mouth captured hers in a heated, fierce kiss that she returned breathlessly. Need. Hot, seething, mindless need had taken over his entire body and he groaned at the taste of her. When her tongue pressed to meet his, he pulled her even harder against him, wrapping her legs around his lap so he could slant his mouth over her again and again.

It had been over five hundred years since he had a kiss like this, but he couldn't remember one even being this good. His mouth traveled down her cheek and went to her neck, lightly sucking the pulse point that throbbed. Her sighs had become throaty moans and she ground herself against the ridge of his shaft through his trews, earning her a hard grasp of the hips. Aye, it had been many centuries but instinct and need had guided him back. He had not forgotten the language of love-making or the unmistakable signs of an aroused woman.

Their mouths returned to each other feverishly as she began to grind harder against him.

Christ, he was already about to explode like a lad during his first tupping. Especially when he took one of her breasts in hand and kneaded it wantonly, making her moan even louder.

He broke the kiss to gaze at her beautiful breasts after he unbuttoned the top of her dressing gown, pulling the fabric down over her shoulders so he could see her completely bare.

"Christ Almighty, woman," he groaned, wiping a hand over his mouth at the sight of her breasts again. Her nipples were hard, tiny peaks, jutting out for his touch, eager for his mouth.

He kissed her again, delving his tongue into the sweetness of her mouth, clasping the back of her head so he could explore her at will as his other hand drifted to her panties. Giving her a taste of what he was going to do with the rest of her body.

But just as his hand reached the top of her underwear, she stilled and pulled her mouth away.

"Kane?"

The lustful haze that had filled her eyes was gone and in its place was confusion. Alarm.

His cock was still pulsing, aching to claim her, but he could feel the change in her demeanor.

"I-I thought I was dreaming…"

Of course, she had, he thought.

His body felt as if it had been dunked into a cold bucket of ice water.

She stared down at the two of them and their intertwined bodies, his clear erection through the fabric of his pants and her bare breasts out for him to see. Carefully but quickly, she extricated herself from his grasp and covered her chest, pulling herself all the way to the headboard.

Then her eyes grew wide when she looked down at her ankle. It was healed. Completely. The purplish-black bruises had evaporated and the bones looked set back into their proper place. She even tested it by gingerly rolling it back and forth.

Yet that only seemed to make her more upset. Panic suffused her features as she began to cry, "I-I don't understand. What… what's happening, here?"

He reached out to touch her. "Jamie…"

But she slapped his hand away, curling around herself. Against him.

"Just-just leave me alone, Murdock. I-I can't handle this anymore. I'm so lost. I want to go home."

She was sobbing in earnest now and his body chilled at her revulsion.

He longed to touch her, to shush her and calm her again. But she looked at him as if he had transformed in front of her very eyes.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

Then he left her.

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Jamie was a mess of emotions. After waking from one of the most horrifying nightmares of her life, she had just about had sex with Kane Murdock. The embarrassment was debilitating. She had thought for sure she was dreaming. Hell, she wouldn't have gotten so heated if she knew she was conscious. To kiss him was one thing - and God, what a thing it was - but to grind on him like they were in high school… The brush of his fingers so close to her core had woken her up to reality. Even in all of her sex dreams, she had never felt a man's touch that clearly before. Turned out because it was a man's touch. A man who would have taken her right there. A man whose kiss had felt like heaven.

God, had she ever been kissed like that? Had she ever felt that? She knew what chemistry felt like and she had had some good make-out sessions in her day, but Kane's kiss had felt like a fiery brand. Like he wanted to consume her. It was dominant, possessive, and full of abandon. The kind that made you dizzy and stupid. Hadn't she proven that?

But kissing was one thing. Getting ready to fuck someone's brains out was another. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so out of control, so ready to just toss everything to the wind and dive in. She took academic risks. Professional risks. Not romantic risks.

To top it all off, she had not been prepared to wake up and have a completely healed ankle. That was too much. Her suspicions about this community had been confirmed: something otherworldly was at play. Whether Kane was a part of that was yet to be seen. But she needed to know before she was going to jump into bed with him.

After her humiliating wake-up call, Jamie went looking for Catrina and Effie. Luckily, Catrina was up for a late night cup of tea. Her shock at seeing Jamie awake and walking about told her even more.

"What happened to me, Catrina?"

"Well, you started acting strangely when you had the soup that Mary brought. You were acting as if you couldn't get enough of it. You must have had four helpings before the laird stopped you and could tell something was amiss. Then you passed out with a terrible fever. You've been unconscious for over two days!"

"Two days?!"

"Aye. We were all terribly concerned, especially the Laird. He hasn't left your side since you succumbed."

"He hasn't?" Jamie felt a little stupid momentarily. Was that why he was in her room in the first place?

"Was he not there when you awoke?"

"He was." Jamie was not about to tell Catrina anything other than that. Yeah, Catrina, and we made out while I dry humped him and he copped a feel.

"Poor thing should be in bed now. He's not slept properly since you fell to whatever that strange… illness was."

Had Kane really been sitting by her side for an entire two days? The thought seemed to further her embarrassment, but also make her feel something else. Something like disbelief. Or… warmth?

"What happened to your ankle, lass?"

That was the real question. Jamie brushed aside the uncomfortable feelings that had swept over her at the mention of Kane's care and focused on the more pertinent issue.

"I was hoping you could tell me, Catrina." She looked down at it again, amazed.

"You just woke up with it healed? Goodness! It must have been that soup."

"You guys in the habit of serving magical healing soup?"

"No, but…" Catrina trailed off as if she had more to say, which Jamie knew she did.

"Catrina." Jamie sat down and gave the older woman a hard stare. "You need to tell me what's going on here."

"Lass, it's not for me to say."

"Then who's going to tell me? Ever since I got here it's been nothing but strange thing after strange thing. I mean, did I fall into the Upside Down?"

Catrina made a face but insisted, "Miss, the best person to explain everything would be the Laird."

Of course, Jamie thought. But she blushed just at the idea of talking to him. Would she grill him after discussing the dry humping or before?

"I don't know if that's such a great idea," she muttered.

"Why not, Miss?"

"Well, because the Laird and I…"

"Like each other?"

Jamie sighed.

"Miss, you can deny it all you like, but we can all see it." Catrina's face softened. "Truth be told, no one has ever seen the Laird so… engaged. Like he has a reason again."

She couldn't mean…? "A reason?"

Now it was Catrina's turn to sigh. "To live, lass."

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Kane steeled himself as he arrived in front of Sorcha's hovel. One could call it a cabin but it was so old and rickety it appeared no better than a mud hut from the Stone Age. The stone was rain-damaged and the thatch roof looked as if it was about to cave in. But the garden surrounding it was lush and well-tended. He could tell even in the pitch darkness of night. And Kane suspected that the witch hid much more behind the walls. It had been the same with her.

He tried to recall all those years ago what he had felt when he first met her. She was attractive enough, but not in any remarkable way. He had resigned himself to marriage but was not necessarily excited by the prospect. When he met the rather shy and simple Sorcha, he'd struggled to whip up any more excitement. She was clearly enamored with him and he wondered now if that bored him or shamed him. The tiniest bit of guilt he could have felt at swiving that barmaid had vanished until Sorcha had caught him. Even then, he only felt guilty about getting caught. It would take years and years for him to realize what he had done, and how callous of a groom he'd appeared. Marriage for a young maid was the most exciting time in her life, and he had smashed all of her dreams in one moment. Even after he found out what she was, he knew he had hurt her.

The reminder of what she was sobered him as he stood in front of her home. He had to be careful in his dealings with her no matter how much he wanted to throttle her. Or how much he regretted his decisions. She was vastly powerful.

He knocked on the door, tamping down the desire to bellow her forth and kill her once and for all. Although, that would solve several problems.

Instead, he called, "Sorcha."

A small hatch opened on the wooden door and he could see her deep magenta eye peering up at him. A cloudy film had just begun to color her irises, but they were still preternaturally sharp.

He heard her before he saw her. That same deep, haughty voice.

"My, my, my. What on earth could bring the great Laird of Gealach Lán to my door?"

He had not seen her in centuries but he was still surprised to see that she had aged so much. The young woman he almost married was now an older, much uglier crone. Her long amber hair had turned gray and her once fine form had turned to softness. The beginning of liver spots sprouted on her exposed hands and he swore he could see some jowls.

She stood at the doorway, opening up the door just enough for him to see her but not inside the darkness.

"I hear that you have a guest."

"The soup that Mary MacDonald brought, your doing?"

She gave a small chuckle and he marveled that behind the lines and sagging that had begun to tar her skin, he could still his former bride. She had worn a similar grin when he first transformed.

"Soup?"

"Don't play coy with me, Sorcha. You know to what I refer."

"Ah, perhaps. I often come to the aid of those in need of help, especially young women."

He felt his chest rise with anger but he swallowed down the rage. "Jamie didn't need any help from you."

"No? From what I hear, the poor thing broke her ankle and therefore, was completely at your mercy. Unless of course, that's what you wanted."

He snapped, "Your magic is unwelcome in my home. You may pretend to have altruistic motives but I know you, Sorcha. Your only motive is revenge."

A thoughtful look came over her face as she nodded. "Aye. I will be happy to see the girl leave, to go back to where she belongs."

As he suspected.

But before he could gloat, she added, "We wouldn't want her finding out what you really are."

Anger turned to shame and his hatred for the witch grew as he admitted in the most secret places of his heart that she was right. Jamie could never know what he was, especially after today.

"Jamie doesn't know, correct? Doesn't she know that you're a murderer? Practically a cannibal? That you killed your own tenant? That your parents vanished for fear of also being eaten by you?"

Kane could feel his entire body flush with outrage. His gut toiled and his jaw clenched so hard he was sure he would break some teeth. But he stood his ground and ignored the old woman's gaze, refusing to give her the satisfaction she craved.

"What about Mary MacDonald? Where is she?"

"I haven't the faintest idea." Her small, secretive smile told him the opposite.

"I'm warning you, Sorcha. If you do not produce Mary by tomorrow - "

"And I'm warning you, Laird." She spit the word out like it was a curse. "If your girl isn't gone by the summer solstice next week, you'll have my version of hell to pay."