Be Still My Vampire Heart(51)

 

She wondered what to do. She could walk away and hope to never see him again. That would be safe… and painful. Or she could venture inside and be alone with Angus MacKay.

 

A sad, resigned look settled on his face. "I understand if ye wish to leave. 'Tis for the best, most likely."

 

Since when had she done what was best for her? Ever since her parents' murders, she'd taken one risk after another. But somehow, Angus MacKay didn't seem like a risk. At least not a physical one. With him, it was her heart that was in danger.

 

She went up one step. Then another.

 

His sad expression took on a look of wonder. She felt it, too, as if she and Angus were alone in the world with a mysterious force drawing them together.

 

Her heart pounded in her ears. What was she doing? The heat between them would be too hard to resist. She'd end up in his arms again. Did she really want that? She paused at the doorway, giving him a wary look.

 

He arched a brow. "Is this another date?"

 

With a lift of her chin, she entered the townhouse. "I'm only here for the information I can learn." She winced when the door banged shut behind her. She turned in time to see him flipping the locks. "I reserve the right to leave whenever I wish."

 

"Of course ye do." A corner of his mouth tilted up. "Would ye like something to eat or drink? I'm feeling a bit peckish myself."

 

 

 

The minute Sean Whelan regained consciousness, he focused on self-control. No movement whatsoever to indicate he was awake. He kept his eyes shut, his body relaxed, his head slumped forward, but his senses alert. He appeared to be tied to a chair, a hard wooden one, he guessed by the slats pressing into the small of his back. The slight whir of air conditioning proved he was indoors. Footsteps paced behind him, steps made on a hard floor. Heavy steps, most probably made by one of those damned Scottish vampires. Sean didn't dare send out psychic probes to read his captor's mind. A vampire would feel it and know his victim was awake. Sean listened to the pacing till he had a feel for the rhythm. Then he waited for the pacer to reach his farthest point to the left, a time when the pacer would have his back turned. Then Sean strained at the bindings on his wrists. No luck. Too tight. His ankles, too. He leaned forward as if his unconscious body was about to tumble on the floor, but ropes across his chest restrained him. The Scottish bastard had tied him to the chair.

 

The footsteps came closer and stopped just to his left. Sean could feel those demonic eyes studying him. He struggled to breathe normally, but his heart raced. What kind of torture did the bastards plan for him? God help him, if they tried to transform him, he would find a way to kill himself first.

 

"I know ye're awake."

 

Sean flinched at the deep voice so close to his ear. And his neck.

 

"I can hear yer heart pounding. I can smell yer blood rushing through you."

 

Sean turned his head toward the voice and opened his eyes. "Go to hell."

 

The Scotsman straightened and narrowed his blue eyes. "I will, most likely. But ye'll be there long before I will."

 

A door flung open, and Sean's breath hitched at the sight of his pregnant daughter.

 

"Shanna!" He strained at his bindings.

 

"Dad." She rushed toward him.

 

The Scotsman stopped her. "No' too close."

 

She frowned at him, then at Sean. "Why not? What can he do? You have him all tied up."

 

The Scotsman crossed his arms. "And that is how he will stay."

 

Sean rocked forward, trying to get onto his feet. "You see how they treat us, Shanna?"

 

He wiggled his chair toward her. "What have they done to you? I swear I'll kill them all."

 

The Scotsman dashed around him in a blur. Two hands clamped down on his shoulders from behind. He couldn't budge.

 

"Doona threaten us, mortal." The Scotsman leaned forward. "Ye wouldna want to see me angry."

 

Sean glanced to the side just in time to see the Scotsman bare his teeth. With a hiss, his fangs shot out.

 

Sean recoiled.

 

"Connor!" Shanna glared at the Scotsman. "Behave."

 

The Scotsman's fangs slowly receded into his gums. He gave Sean a warning look, then released him.

 

Shanna shook her head. "Really, Connor. How can I convince my dad you're the good guys when you act like that?"

 

Connor stepped back, folding his arms across his broad chest. "My apologies." He slanted a look toward Sean that was anything but apologetic.

 

"Shanna." Sean turned to his daughter. "I need to talk to you in private."

 

"No' happening," Connor growled.