little thing like you would merely be a between-meal snack for his kind.”
A snack for Alec? A giggle escaped her throat. “He would never hurt me.” At least she didn’t think he would. Of course, an hour ago she wouldn’t have thought he would have kissed her, either. However, she had started those dealings hadn’t she? Yet, he had kissed her in return.
“I’m serious, sweetheart. I’d rather not have to explain the evening’s events to Eynsford. You know how hearing MacQuarrie’s name can set him off like nothing else. So, please promise me you’ll stay away from the bloodsucker. I’d rather keep my head on my shoulders where it belongs.”
Havers! Eynsford. Sorcha somehow managed not to groan. Caitrin, the seer, would already know everything.
There was never a way to hide anything from her. But would she have confided all to her husband? If Cait thought getting her wolfish husband involved was in Sorcha’s best interest, she would have. “It’s probably too late for that.”
“For keeping my head on my shoulders?” Radbourne’s voice raised an octave. “I do hope not. I rather like it where it is.”
She certainly couldn’t explain what she’d meant by that.
None of Eynsford’s half brothers knew about Cait’s powers of second sight or about the coven. “Of course ye do. It’s a very handsome head. I’d hate for ye ta lose it as well.”
The viscount dipped his very handsome head closer to hers and whispered, “Did you notice my brother’s face? Weston, I mean. The scar across his cheek?”
How could she miss it? The line stretched from his ear to his mouth. It was a most notable disfigurement, though it made him appear dangerous and dashing at the same time. She nodded.
“One of MacQuarrie’s kind did that to him. With only her fingernail. And we can heal from anything. Imagine what could happen to a sweet thing like yourself, Sorcha. Vampyres are not to be trifled with.”
“But Lord Blodswell and Lord Kettering,” she began as they reached the stables. “They became human once more.”
“Anomalies, sweetheart. Blodswell was just as surprised by his transformation as anyone else. No one, not even a vampyre, has ever heard of such things before. It wouldn’t do for you to pin your hopes on such a probability.”
No, it wouldn’t. But if it was possible, if Alec could be transformed back… she knew what to look for, didn’t she?
Both Kettering and Blodswell had suffered chest pains before becoming human again. Elspeth believed their hearts had been flexing, preparing to beat once more after each had met his true love. And Blodswell had suffered from headaches and the inability to drink from anyone other than Rhiannon. If Alec began to show such signs, Sorcha would certainly recognize them.
Radbourne swung from his saddle and offered his hand to her. “You look a million miles away.”
Sorcha accepted his assistance and landed safely on her feet. “Just woolgatherin’.”
One dark brow rose in mild amusement. “Somehow that statement terrifies me.”
“Well, then ye frighten too easily, Archer.” She grinned up at him, so handsome and wolfish, and wished she felt something for him. A fluttering in her belly. A dryness in her mouth. Something other than a simple appreciation of his sense of humor and wolfish nature.
Sticking to her original course would be so much simpler.
Find a Lycan and help make him fall in love with her. This Lycan would probably make a fine husband, in fact. But all she could think about was the brooding vampyre somewhere behind them in the darkness of Kent and the soul-searing way his kiss had stolen her breath.
Radbourne tipped his hat in farewell as he remounted.
“Do remember what I said.”
“Of course,” she agreed with a nod. “I’m certain I will find it very difficult ta think of anythin’ else.”
At that moment, both Hadley twins rode up behind them.
“Pray say you’ll save me a dance tomorrow evening, Miss Ferguson?” unscarred Grayson Hadley asked.
Weston Hadley’s face dropped. “I was going to ask her, Gray.”
His twin shrugged. “I usually beat you out, Wes.”
How strange life was turning out to be. She had not one Lycan’s attention, but three. Sorcha shook her head with a laugh. “Thank ye both for the flattery. I would be honored ta dance with each of ye tomorrow.” A few hours ago she would have been floating up to the clouds with this, heady from her spectacular success. But something else now weighed her down. She turned her attention once again to the viscount. “Will ye tell Cait that I would