Real Vampires Know Hips Happen (Glory St. Clair #9)

Real Vampires Know Hips Happen (Glory St. Clair #9) Page 9

I knew the minute I saw him that this guy was going to be a challenge. For one thing, he wore a helmet, short body armor and carried a shield. On a date? I had to admit he was cute with his short curly beard and mustache but I could feel his power from the doorway. I was going to have to be very careful. He'd laid his spear on the table in front of him. But I had no doubt he'd pick it up if he thought I'd brought surly friends or if I acted the least bit like the angry vampire I wanted to be.

We were in the large hall in the distillery that I guess was used when they hosted dinners that featured some of their whiskeys. Someone had laid out a feast on the long banquet table. What part of my being a vampire didn't he get? Or maybe he'd decided to torture me. It was working, the delicious smells making my mouth water.

I managed a smile. "Nice plume." It was bright red and looked positively jaunty waving in the air when he nodded.

"Are you mocking me?" His eyes narrowed.

Oops. No sense of humor. "No, seriously. Love red and I'll bet it makes it easy for the troops to spot you in the middle of a battle." I was babbling but he had a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I'm Gloriana."

"Of course." He marched around the table like he was about to inspect the troops. I backed up a little, intimidated. "Please, join me. You're right of course. It's important for a leader to be easily seen when he's leading men into combat." He held out a chair to the right of the seat that looked a lot like a throne at the head of the table. "Will you have a whiskey? I've been assured that it's some of Scotland's finest."

"Umm. Sure. Thank you." I was glad Bart had told us a little wouldn't hurt. I was desperate for a numbing agent. How was I going to let this guy down easily? He gave me a sharp look. Damned mind reader.

"You aren't interested in coming to Olympus?" He set the shield aside but kept on his gleaming silver helmet. Beautiful but ridiculous to wear to a dinner party. He nodded and slipped it off, ruffling his light brown hair until the curls looked like they'd been professionally styled. "Is that better?"

"It's rude to read my mind, but, yes, it makes you look less, um, intimidating. You could lose the body armor too. I promise, I won't attack you." I smiled again and picked up the glass he'd set in front of me. The amber liquid smelled delicious and I took a cautious sip. It was potent but went down smoothly. Jerry would have called it a treat.

"No, I'm sure you won't." He slid the armor off over his head. "That would be very foolish of you." He leaned the metal against the wall. "I know you have powers, my dear, but nothing compared to what I bring to the table." He sat and stared at me like he was thinking about a demonstration. What? Knocking me against the wall? He smiled and picked up his whiskey.

"Hey, I come in peace." I took another sip of the whiskey, aggravated when my teeth clattered against the glass. "I'm sorry if my mother led you to believe I was interested in a, uh, relationship. But I'm not an Olympus kind of girl. I'm perfectly happy with my life here on Earth."

"But you haven't had a chance to see what we enjoy there. It can be paradise compared to your simple life." He leaned against the table, his hip close to my left arm. He wore a short tunic that showed off his muscular thighs, a strong warrior even without all the trappings.

"What's your name? I did a little research so I know there are several gods up there who specialize in, um, war." I sipped again, very aware of his proximity. He smelled masculine, with an odd blend of some ancient musk that made me want to explore where it came from. Uh-oh. Powers. He'd gone from intimidation to seduction in a heartbeat. I could see it in his dark eyes. I leaned back in my chair to put some distance between us.

"There may be others who dabble in war craft, but they bow to me as their leader. I am Mars." He popped himself on the chest with a fist, so hard it had to have hurt. He didn't even wince. "I'm Roman. Not Greek like so many on Olympus. And I am the one who invented any strategy worth using and most weapons worth having. Some claim I shouldn't be there. Your mother, though...Never mind. Tonight is about us." He leaned down until his face was inches from mine. "Would you like to see my...spear?"

"No! I mean I'm sure it's a fine weapon." I pointed to the steel resting on the table even though I knew he had another weapon on his mind. My face felt hot and it wasn't from the whiskey. No subtlety here. And if he and my mother had been lovers, how creepy was that?

"You have no idea. Men from the earthly plane can't compare to a god and his gifts." He brushed my hair back behind my shoulders then gestured at the food in front of me. "What do you think of the feast on the table?"

"Feast?" My voice squeaked. The subject change left me reeling. I dragged my eyes from his - they were a deep brown, the color of dark chocolate - and glanced at the roasted pig with the apple in its mouth, the bowls of steaming vegetables and piles of fresh fruits. The smells had been hitting me since I'd walked into the room; now I let myself inhale, my stomach growling.

"I had the staff here prepare this for us. What do you think?" He pulled a grape off a bunch and popped it into his mouth.

"Are you mocking me now? Didn't my mother tell you I'm vampire? I can't eat food. I only drink" - I let him see my fangs - "blood."

"I know. Your mother felt it wise to disclose the facts to me. On Olympus you soon learn not to make me angry. I have a nasty temper when crossed." He tore off a hunk of meat. Then he held it dripping near my lips, his palm cupped beneath it to keep from soiling my dress. "Taste, Gloriana. I have the power to keep you well. You can eat to your heart's content tonight and none of this will harm you. You could dine this sumptuously every night if you returned to the mountain with me."

"You're kidding me." The bite was so...close.

"I don't kid." He popped the meat into my mouth.

Oh, wow. Moist, tender and delicious. I actually moaned when I finally swallowed.

"This isn't going to get me to change my mind." I felt I had to say it, even while I was reaching for a roll and butter.

"Gloriana, just relax and enjoy. I swear you won't become ill from this. Trust my magic." He slid back into his chair and filled a plate with any number of delicacies then placed it in front of me with a smile.

Trust. Not easy when I'd had bad reactions from eating before. But as I sipped fine whiskey, devoured roasted pork, cheesy potatoes and an array of ripe fruit that I'd never tasted before, I never felt a twinge. I admit it was a little bit of Heaven. Finally I reluctantly blotted my lips with a napkin, set down my knife and fork and pushed back from the table, so full I was afraid my zipper wouldn't hold.

"All right. I'll admit you have some pretty amazing magic." I smiled while keeping my distance. He hadn't eaten, just watched me pig out with an interest that was beginning to unnerve me.

"You have barely seen any of my magic." He touched my hand. "I've enjoyed watching you eat with such enthusiasm. In Olympus such banquets are commonplace. Boring."

"Not to me." I eased my hand away to gesture at the table. "This was a miracle, Mars. Thank you. I have just enjoyed the first truly delicious and satisfying meal I've had in hundreds of years." It was no more than the truth. I'd gotten to eat fairly recently thanks to a drug I'd tested. Too bad it had had nasty side effects. I'd also wasted the opportunity on a pretty sad excuse for a meal cooked by someone who should have been banned from a kitchen.

My stomach gurgled and I was suddenly afraid Mars had lied. Luckily the only thing I suffered was embarrassment when I tried to swallow a burp. Mars just laughed when I quickly covered my mouth with my napkin.

"I love to see a woman who appreciates her food. It was my pleasure." He held up his glass, which had never seemed to grow empty. But then neither had mine though I'd drunk steadily. In fact, the room was swaying a little. "A toast. To firsts."

"Firsts?" I let him clink glasses with mine but waited for an explanation.

"Your first meal with me. The first time I've sat like this with a woman and not lifted her skirt before dessert." His grin was wicked. "You do want dessert, don't you?" He nodded and a servant entered with a chocolate cake that I could smell from across the room.

"Now you're just torturing me. I was sure I couldn't eat another bite." I rubbed my stomach. For chocolate, I'd make room. He cut a big slice of cake, chocolate through and through, and handed me a plate. Before I could pick up a fork, he broke off a piece and brought it to my lips.

"Open for me, Gloriana." His voice had dropped to a husky demand.

"Mars." I didn't like the look in his eyes but couldn't help myself. My lips closed over the delicate cake and frosting. Before I could stop myself I'd licked his fingers clean. Bad, Glory.

"One kiss. Just to see how a vampire tastes. Humor me." He leaned in and I saw a touch of chocolate on his lower lip. It was enough for me.

"One. Then I must go." I met his lips with mine, more intent on getting to that chocolate than on the kissing part. But he was a wily creature. He slipped his hand to the back of my head and moved his mouth over mine. He wasn't just a god who was an expert on violence. Obviously he had a passionate nature as well. He toyed with me, explored my fangs and seemed to like the novelty as his tongue roamed through my mouth.

I was too far gone with the whiskey to do more than hold his shoulders, trying to keep some space between us. Before I knew it I'd jammed my fingers into his soft curls. His beard was soft too and tickled my face but in a pleasantly sensual way that encouraged me to keep this going.

"No!" I shoved him away, suddenly finding my sense when he slid his hand down to cup my breast. "I am not going to Olympus. No matter what you offer."

"Really?" He stood and his shield, which had never been far from his hand, suddenly leaped into it. Magic. His spear moved too and he gripped it with his other hand. "This coy act isn't as cute as you think it is. I find it irritating." He gestured with his shield and suddenly everything on the table crashed to the floor. I jumped up and backed away. Obviously Mars had a temper.

"It's not an act. I'm happy here on Earth. I have a vampire lover who I will not betray." Again. "My mother must have misrepresented the situation." I thought about dematerializing but one gesture from Mars and every power I had deserted me. Damned Olympus magic.

"I can take care of that vampire lover. It will be my pleasure." He gestured with his spear. "Your mother claims he was once a warrior. Though I'm sure he will be no match for me, I could enjoy a moment or two of sport with him before I take his head." His grin reminded me of someone who thought drowning kittens would be a good afternoon's entertainment.

"You won't touch him." I picked up an apple which had rolled across the floor and threw it at him. In a display of finesse, he caught it on the end of his spear. Show off.

"I will if I want to." Now he sounded like a petulant little boy.

"Really? Is that all you have to occupy your time? Take women who don't want you and kill vampires, who my mother assures me are well beneath your notice?" I lobbed a golden squash that had been used as part of the centerpiece at his head. This he slashed in two, dead center. I swallowed at his perfect coordination and the sharpness of his blade.

"It's true I usually consider them little more than earthly roadkill." He laughed, cracking himself up. "Get it? Dead, undead?"

"You think mocking what I am is scoring you points?" I really wanted to snatch his helmet off the table and break his plume.

"Watch it, woman." He set the helmet firmly back on his head with a scowl. Then he slashed his spear through the chair that stood between us. Sparks flew, the chair fell apart, and I realized he had more than a sharp blade in that spear.

I dashed to the other side of the room. "Don't you have real work to do, Mars? Right now in several parts of the world there are real wars going on. Bloody, hellacious ones. I'm sure you can find some interesting action there." I saw him stalking me, kicking scattered fruit and dishes out of his way. He could paralyze me no doubt, like my mother could, but he probably didn't consider that sporting.

"I told your mother I'd try to get you to Olympus. I find that an interesting challenge." He leaped on top of the table. "Admit it, Gloriana. You enjoyed that kiss. You were tempted by the feast."

I had nowhere to run. He dropped down to within a foot of me, his eyes ablaze with the need to win. I recognized it; hadn't I seen it in Jerry's eyes when he'd fought in the past? I dared reach out to touch Mars's chest. He was hard and warm, breathing rapidly and excited by my resistance. My fingers were shaking because I knew just how helpless I was to fight him.

"Are you the kind of warrior who carries away women as the spoils of war? Is pillaging and rape part of your scene?"

"You dare!" The blast of power from him knocked me flat on my back. I lay there for a moment, stunned. "I have never raped a woman in my life."

"Well, that's the only way you're going to get me back to Olympus as your, um, consort." I shook my head to clear it. Whoa. Whatever he'd unleashed in his temper fit had hit me like a body blow.

"To hell with you then." He turned on his heel, throwing out his arms and sending the contents of the room into a swirl of destruction that left everything in bits and pieces. I held my hands over my head to keep from getting hit.

"Mars, please. I'm sorry, but I told my mother I wasn't interested. It's not you, it's me."

"Zeus's toenail, woman, I can't believe you just said that." He whipped around, his spear close to my chest.

"It's the truth. You want to be mad at someone, be mad at my mother. I...I like you. You're charming when you're not throwing a temper tantrum." I got slowly to my feet, being careful of that really sharp blade. "And you gave me a wonderful gift." I glanced at the total disaster of the room. "A meal I'll never forget."

"You are very like your mother, Gloriana. Most women after what I just did would be a sniveling heap on the floor." He lowered his spear. "Damned if I don't think I like you. Your warrior is a lucky man."

"Uh, thank you."

He smiled. "I only wore my old battle gear tonight to impress you. I can tell you like it." He stepped closer, back to flirtation.

I held up my hand in a classic stop gesture. "Mars, I can't go to Olympus. But my mother told me she has to follow through on whatever she promised you no matter what I decide tonight. Is that true?" I smiled to take the sting out of that, relieved when he seemed to take what I said calmly.

"Yes, it is. And she won't tell anyone you turned me down." He nodded. "I have some secrets of hers that I can use as leverage too."

"There you go." Olympus politics sounded even worse than American. "Seems like it'll be a win for you." I held out my hand. "Can we part as friends? I'd like to think that if I got in a spot of trouble, I could call on a powerful god like you for help. I figure we're probably related in some way, if my research about Olympus is true. Seems like just about everyone comes from Zeus up there." And wasn't that an ick factor? I was afraid Mother had tried to fix me up with some really close relatives.

"Oh, yes, we're definitely related." He leaned his spear against the wall and took my hand. "I'd like that, Gloriana. To help you. Your mother will hate it."

"There you go. Anything my mother hates, I love. We're on the same page." I gasped when he brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. "Or are we?"

"Just a courtesy, my dear." He laughed. "I got your message. But if you ever change your mind or need me, just call my name. I will hear you."

"What about my mother? She won't tell me her name. Will you?" But he'd already disappeared. Damn. I turned on my heel and walked out of the room, only stopping long enough to pick up an unbroken bottle of that fine whiskey. I had a feeling Jerry would enjoy it and maybe it would help him remember something. It had certainly relaxed me and put me in the mood to jump all over him as soon as I got back. I was feeling optimistic for the first time since he'd been stabbed. No more blind dates and my mother was supposed to be cooperating. If Mars had the magic to make me eat, then surely she could find someone with the mojo to help Jerry get his memory back.

My stomach gurgled again and I waited to see if my meal was going to reappear. No, false alarm, though I did feel like I could burp "The Star-Spangled Banner," a trick my pal Rafe Valdez had taught me. I know, nothing to brag about.

I thought about that dense chocolate cake with the creamy frosting. Heaven on a fork. I had to admit Olympus did have its charms. Thunder boomed but I ignored it. Sorry, Mom, but I wasn't about to give up Jerry for fine dining. And wasn't that a revelation.

Two nights had passed without a word from my mother or much progress with Jerry's memory. Bart had tried hypnosis with Jerry again but they'd had no luck. We were leaving for Edinburgh to catch the plane the next night. Mag and Angus were unhappy about it but saw the wisdom in taking Jerry back to his more recent haunts. Plus, he could finally meet his daughter.

"I've got a surprise for you, Gloriana." Jerry had seemed to regain his strength as he drank from me each night. Now he dragged me through the living room and outside into the cold night air.

"Oh?" I didn't like surprises. History had shown me that they were usually nasty ones. A breakup. Unwelcome guests. I could go on. But Jerry's eyes were bright with excitement so I hoped that this was a good one.

"Da and I have arranged a party for tonight. A going away bonfire and pipers are coming. Most of the clan that still lives around here are coming too." He picked up the bottle of whiskey I had brought back from my date. I'd explained it away, claiming my mother had given it to me as a bribe, trying to get back into my good graces. "I'll take this with me."

I held his hand, enjoying his firm grasp and happy smile. "Bagpipes!" I'd learned to appreciate their music long ago.

"Yes. Did you ever learn the dances here?" He swept his eyes down my outfit. I'd bought a short skirt made from the Campbell plaid in the village. I'd paired it with a low-cut black sweater and black boots. "You look ready for a jig or two."

"Thanks, I wore it for you. Plaid isn't my first choice. Makes my butt look big." Now I'd done it. He turned me to check that big butt out. Of course he looked fantastic in his kilt and knee socks. Oh, but the man had great legs.

"Nonsense." He gave my bum a friendly pat which turned into a squeeze. "I'm growing very fond of this ass. Besides, the Campbell plaid looks good on anyone." He put his arm around my waist and pulled me close. "Are you going to dance with me?"

"You bet. I love to dance. You don't remember but I supported myself for a while as a dancer. A few years ago. Before I moved to Austin. And when I was here last, the girls taught me some of the dances." I grinned up at him. The air was crisp and smelled of wood smoke. This was beginning to feel like old times. "Lead the way."

He held up the whiskey bottle. "If I drink enough, I'll even get out the swords."

"Oh, would you?" I kissed his cheek. "I'd love to see you sword dance. Ancient warrior style."

"It's the only way I remember, lass." His smile slipped. "Come on." He pulled me toward a clearing where we could see people milling around a large fire. Just then the pipes started. It was a merry song and a cheer went up.

"Look!" I pointed as Angus bowed to Mag, and Laird and Lady Campbell took a spot near the fire to begin a lively jig. It was fun to see them cut loose. The crowd clapped and cheered as they whirled and turned, clasping hands and then dancing around each other. Finally, the song ended and everyone hooted and stomped their feet. Angus bowed, Mag curtsied then several other couples took their places as the music started again.

"What fun!" The voice came from the darkness. "It's high time the Campbells entertained again."

Jerry turned to face the couple walking from the car park next to the garage. "Mara and Davy! Well met!" He shook hands with Mara's fiance and kissed Mara's cheek. "I'm leaving for America tomorrow so Da and I thought we should have some kind of send-off."

"Leaving?" Mara's face fell. "Are you all right? Have you got your memory back?"

"No." Jerry glanced at the merriment around the bonfire. "I realize staying here is like living in the past. Gloriana has urged me to go where I have lived the last few years. It's a good idea. We hope it will help me remember some of what I've lost." He rested his arm on my shoulders.

"Gloriana's idea, of course. Honestly, do you have to drag him away from his family so soon? But then I'm sure Mag and Angus won't be sorry to see the last of you, Gloriana, will they? Too bad you've persuaded Jeremiah to go with you." Mara had that pinched look around her mouth she got whenever she talked to me.

"My parents realize I need to meet our daughter. Lily, you said her name was." Jerry tightened his arm around me.

"Yes, and she's still in Austin. I got a text from her just yesterday. She's wondering why she didn't get her allowance from you this month. Apparently you've been supporting her, Jeremiah." Mara frowned. "It's ridiculous of course. She should be making her own way by now."

"Like you did?" That popped out before I could stop myself. But the truth was Mara had married money and had never worked a day in her life.

"Gloriana, not all of us are willing to stoop as low as you did to earn our keep." Mara's smile was cold. "After all, you will do anything to be independent, won't you?"

"What does that mean?" Jerry gave us both searching looks.

"It means that I'm not afraid of hard work, Jerry, even if it's acting on the stage. That I don't take money from you and that I live on what I earn." I kept my arm around his waist. "I'm not ashamed of it. I guess I could have a talk with Lily, help her figure out a way to earn her own living without depending on her father or some other man." I gave Mara a meaningful look.

"My daughter doesn't need advice from such as you." Mara's nostrils flared. Not a pretty look for a change.

"Does she need to work? I hope I can afford to support my own child." Jerry growled. "Can't I?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Hell, I have no idea what condition my finances are in."

"You are quite wealthy, Jeremiah." Of course Mara had looked into that situation. "And, as her father, you can do as you please. The generous allowance you give her has helped her get rid of some undesirable friends who were paying her way so she could live an unsavory lifestyle. The allowance and inviting her to live with you was a wise decision."

I had heard enough from the shrew. "Yes, you can afford it, Jerry, but Lily isn't a child at over four hundred years old. It would be nice if she had a sense of responsibility."

Davy McLeod cleared his throat. "That's awfully good music going to waste while we discuss such thorny topics. Can't we dance now, my love, and put this off for another time?"

"Of course, darling." Mara sneered at me. "Trust Gloriana to turn a pleasant evening into a disagreeable wrangle. Jeremiah, Lily will love you. Does love you. Your generosity literally saved her life. I'm sure you will figure out your relationship with her. Now let's dance." She pulled Davy toward the bonfire.

"Sorry. Did I cause that?" I looked at Jerry's pensive expression.

"No, Mara was trying to pick a fight. That was obvious even to my muddled brain. Now it seems Lily might be a problem when I had hoped she'd be a joy. Shit. I've had a lot on my empty mind lately, Gloriana. Money, family, even trying to figure out if I can go up in a flying machine tomorrow night without acting the fool." He pulled me against him. "So I thought I'd try to forget all that for a while with a bit of fun. Are you with me?" His smile was a good effort, but strained.

"Of course. Put all those worries on the back burner. It does no good to strain to remember things and might even make it worse." I leaned up and kissed him. "I have to warn you, though. It's been dozens of years since we've come here together. Be patient with my dancing. I may be rusty."

He just pulled me closer and kissed me again. I had a feeling he was gathering strength. Then he stepped back, bowed like a courtier of old and urged me closer to the crowd. Once there, he found a spot among the dancers and made sure I could follow the steps. Soon we were laughing and leaping around with the best of them.

Bart and Caitie joined the dancers and proved to be quite a couple, showing off their skills. Bart wore the O'Connor plaid, which got him some looks, but Cait made sure he got a warm welcome. He wasn't the only one in a different plaid; Davy and Mara's stood out too. Neighbors wore their own clan plaids and some had come in their modern clothes. Still, everyone seemed to have a good time, enjoying the old-fashioned entertainment which included a local singing group.

Several hours went by and the whiskey Jerry had brought plus many other bottles were passed around. Then the laird called for quiet and swords were brought out.

"Now this is the way they danced in ancient times." Jerry tossed aside his empty bottle, his eyes bright. "The swords are wicked sharp. One misstep and I'll ruin my boots." He laughed then set two swords on the ground to make a cross. Several other men did the same. The pipers were tuning up, waiting for a signal. They began to play as soon as the men raised their arms, their feet on the ground between the swords.

It was a delicate dance with fancy footwork that still looked entirely masculine. Of course these were warriors who leaped over their swords, gleaming in the light from the fire. I could imagine this as it must have been hundreds of years ago. Jerry proved to be a master of the dance, his feet never once brushing the steel as he skipped lightly around the swords. He turned and twirled, bent and straightened. It was mesmerizing.

Suddenly he froze. He turned, swept up both swords, one in each hand, and stared into the darkness just outside the light from the fire. The pipes stopped with an eerie whine.

"Come closer, you coward. I can smell ye."

"Can you really? I swear I bathed before I came." The voice was amused but the man who stepped into the circle of light looked entirely serious. "Really, Jeremiah, are you still holding a grudge?"

"Damn you, MacDonald, why wouldn't I be? You killed my brother."

I gasped, my heart in my throat. So this was one of Ian's clan, obviously wearing his plaid. The man looked like Ian with the same blond hair and harsh features that spoke of a Viking raid long ago. He didn't carry a sword of his own but then why would he? He wasn't like Jerry, still thinking with a sixteenth-century mind.

"I had heard rumors that you were off your head. I guess they're true. Your brother has been dead for centuries, man. Let it go."

Jerry tossed one of the swords toward the MacDonald who caught it effortlessly. "Let it go, Douglas? Would you let your own brother's death be forgiven and forgotten so easily?"

"What's this?" Douglas gave the sword a few slashes as if he were testing the steel. "Are you seriously thinking of a sword fight? What are you? A throwback?"

"Aye. It seems I am. Come on. Or did you leave your guts in your other sporran?" Jerry stepped closer and flicked his sword toward the man purse Douglas wore, cutting off one of the foxtails that hung from it.

"Now you've pissed me off. This is my best one, you thug." He brushed his hand down the front of the fancy sporran closed with a large silver clasp that featured a snarling creature.

"You're stalling." Jerry wore plain leather embossed with the Campbell crest.

"I have guts aplenty but no taste for ancient sports." He threw down the sword and the crowd gasped when it clattered to the ground. "You want to keep up a stupid feud? I have no interest in it. Neither has my brother Ian. When you get to Texas, you will find that he is no longer going to bother you or your" - he bowed toward me - "loved ones."

"Why did you come here?" Angus stepped forward. "You were not invited."

"I heard you were having a clan gathering and thought this might be a good time to propose a truce. I am laird of Clan MacDonald now and have brought members of my own clan with me." He raised his hand and a dozen burly men dressed in the MacDonald plaid appeared out of the darkness. "We mean you no harm or we could have already ambushed you. Do you believe that?"

Angus nodded. "I believe you have a goodly number of men here and managed to sneak up on us. 'Tis reason enough for me to ban whiskey here from now on." He stepped closer to Jerry. "Feuds are a waste of time, I agree with that. And your brother was avenged long ago, you just don't remember it, Son." He rested his hand on Jerry's sword arm.

"That he was, Laird." Douglas's face hardened. "I remember it well. We have both lost brothers, Jeremiah. Yet I am still willing to put our differences aside. Because the world seems smaller than it used to be. We both have holdings elsewhere, and looking over our shoulders in case an enemy lurks there is a waste of energy and manpower."

"That it is." Angus gestured but Jerry wasn't about to give up his sword yet. "I would have you swear a blood oath, MacDonald, as the head of your clan, that this is a true and honorable end to any and all hostilities between us. This will be witnessed by all those here from both sides, tonight. Are you willing, Douglas MacDonald?"

"Da, no!" Jerry wrenched away from his father. Before he could get close to Douglas, six men in the MacDonald plaid stood in front of their leader with guns drawn. More than one also held a stake.

"Touch me and you'll be dead before you can lift that sword." Douglas glanced at the laird. "I'm willing to take the oath but you'll have to make sure your son here understands that this treaty between us is binding upon him as well. Both here and in Texas if he goes back there. My brother is as weary of this endless hostility as I am."

I wondered about that. It hadn't been that long ago that Ian had played one of his dirty tricks just to get Jerry's goat. Would he really forget their feud now?

More than twenty Campbell men now flanked Jerry, and every sword that had been on the ground had found a hand. The other men held dirks, those wickedly sharp knives the Scots favored.

"Tell your men to stand down, MacDonald." Angus pulled Jerry to his side and gestured to some of his own men to back off when the MacDonald men put away their weapons at a nod from their leader. "My son knows that my word is law in our clan." One of the Campbells took Jerry's sword though he was cursed for it. My heart broke to see Jerry humiliated like that. But he knew the rules and had always abided by them.

This was the right thing to do. It was a miracle a MacDonald had been the one to propose the truce. Modern Jerry would have still hated it, but would have understood the necessity of letting an ancient feud go.

"I'm glad I won't be here to see this." Jerry again wrenched away from his father. "You know you can't trust him. As soon as your back is turned - "

"You'll abide by my decision." Angus clearly would tolerate no argument.

"Aye." Jerry nodded, his face like stone.

"Then spill my blood. For the oath." Angus gestured and a man handed Jerry a dirk. I knew Jerry had one tucked into his belt. It was a miracle he hadn't thrown it the minute Douglas had come into view. "Careful now. I don't fancy losing a finger."

Jerry muttered a curse but made a neat slice on his father's palm.

Douglas did the same with his own dirk. Then the two men stepped forward and clasped bloody hands.

"Peace!" Angus roared then said something in Gaelic. Jerry stayed silent.

"Peace!" Douglas and the rest of the crowd echoed. Then the two leaders spit on the ground and the pipers began to play a lively tune. Whiskey reappeared and everyone started talking.

Jerry stood pale and brooding near his father. Enough. I walked over to him and pulled him aside.

"Let's get out of here," I said quietly. He nodded and we started walking toward the castle.

"Miss Gloriana?" Douglas was there, too close to ignore.

"How do you know who I am?" That really bothered me. This man shouldn't have known my name or recognized me.

"My brother and I communicate. He sent me a picture of you when I told him who was staying at the Campbell castle." Douglas smiled like it was perfectly all right to have spies in his enemy's camp.

"This MacDonald in Texas has a picture of you, Gloriana? Why?" Jerry pulled me to his side, clearly ready to get away from Douglas and this whole party gone wrong.

"He's a doctor, remember? Bart mentioned him. I was sick recently. I used his services. He took a picture then, I guess." Of course he had, probably with a security camera. Did Douglas know my entire long and complicated history with Ian? It was certainly nothing I wanted to get into now with Jerry. "We're leaving for home tomorrow. I hope you mean this feud is really over because I think Ian might be able to help Jerry regain his memory."

"Ah, yes. Amnesia. Most unusual in a vampire." Douglas tried for a sympathetic expression but failed. "My brother will certainly be fascinated by it. He is always curious about the unexplainable." The implication was clear: Jerry was a freak and if he stayed that way, Douglas wouldn't be sorry to hear it.

Jerry stiffened beside me. "Feud or no feud, I will never trust a MacDonald and certainly not to be my doctor." He pulled me toward the castle. "Come, Gloriana. I think I've had all of this company I can tolerate."

"Good night, Gloriana, Jeremiah." Douglas smiled. "Believe it. This feud is done. I have better things to do with my time than worry about petty squabbles between Highland chiefs."

"I'll bet you do." Jerry stopped and looked him up and down. "If I remember aright, you were fond of sneaking up on the backside of sheep. Ever get a woman to stand still for you, Douglas?"

His answer was a wooden stake pressed against Jerry's heart in the blink of an eye.

"Stop it!" I grabbed Douglas's arm.

"Maybe the people around here feel sorry for you, asshole, because you've lost your memory, but I won't put up with that kind of insult from anybody." Douglas pressed hard enough to make a spot of blood appear on Jerry's white shirt. I tried to pull him away but he wasn't budging. Jerry just smiled, apparently not worried about death pressing against his heart. "You ever speak to me like that again and I'll send you to hell, feud or no feud. Understand?"

"Stop it, I said. One yell and you'll have a horde of Campbells staking you, Douglas. Back the hell off."

"Hush, Gloriana. This is between the MacDonald and me." Jerry grinned and grabbed the stake, his arm shaking as he shoved it away. "Sorry if I touched on a sensitive subject there, Dougie. Put away the stick or shove it up your ass, whichever you prefer. My father has sworn peace or you'd already be dead at my hand for killing my brother." Jerry raised an eyebrow when Douglas cursed and tried again. They ended up wrestling for it, the MacDonald finally stepping back out of reach when he realized he couldn't win.

"Four hundred years ago you came back and killed my own brother in retaliation for your loss. Convenient that you forget that. Darren, his name was. You fought hand to hand but he was no match for you." Douglas slipped his stake into a holster. "I thought long and hard before I offered this truce. Because those wounds never heal. But, as I told your pa, I'll not waste another second watching my back for the likes of you." With a kind of dignity I wouldn't have expected, Douglas backed away.

"We are done, Campbell." He turned on his heel, striding away just as others noticed our group and some of the Campbell men started toward us.

Jerry stared after him. "So I killed Darren MacDonald." He shook his head. "How can I not remember something that important?"

"I don't know, Jerry, but you're bleeding." As soon as we were inside I tore open his shirt. He had a slice in his chest from that damned stake.

"It's nothing. I was lucky he didn't take me down. I still don't have my strength back, Gloriana. It took everything in me to fight him off. Damn it." Then Jerry looked me over. "Well not everything. I've been thinking about you all night, lass, watching you bounce around in the dance."

"Now, Jerry, you said you were weak." I smiled as he pulled me to his bedroom.

"Then feed me first, there's a good lass. Tell me, do you have one of those torture things on your breasts? The black one? I'd like to see if I could get it off of you myself this time. Got to learn these things, you know."

And that quickly, his mood turned again. He was cheerful as he led me to his bedroom, his humiliation obviously soothed by what he considered his revenge for his brother's death. I hated his taunt to Douglas. It wasn't like my Jerry, the man who knew when to cry peace and when to keep his mouth shut. This angry man...I had to blame it on his frustration with the memory loss. Of course it had affected his personality.

But it hadn't bothered his lovemaking. Once we shut the door to his bedroom, he slid his hand up under my skirt to discover that, afraid I might show the crowd too much skin, I'd worn my black granny panties under my mini. Then he puzzled over the front clasp of my bra, crowing when he managed it. Maybe it was the whiskey, but, after drinking from me, he was untiring as he took me that night, over and over again. I had no complaints. So why was I still worried?