Craving-First Thirst Read online

  “Whoa!”

  “That’s it, that’s all I got, kid. Are you okay…do you need traveling money?”

  That was my Aunt Elle, always giving. “I love you, no, I don’t. The contract says they will provide me with airfare and I’ve still got a stash. It really is an outstanding offer.”

  She smiled. “I know, I looked at the attached contract. Good, but I mean to find out more about this law firm and MacLeod. Take the job while I investigate the castle’s history and its lords, past and present. I’ll email you whatever I find. And you know, you can always come home to me. My door is always open to you if you find this isn’t right for you, or if you just want to hang with your old Aunt Elle.”

  I laughed. “I told you already I won’t do that to you. I have no intention of cramping your very sexy style.”

  She laughed. “You would be lighting up my home.”

  “Okay, this is getting too soppy for me.” I paused and sighed. “So, you are sure, you want me to take the job?” I wanted the job. I wanted this to work out. I wanted Elle to push me in that direction. I sensed she wanted to push me in that direction.

  “Take it, my dear. You are certainly up to the challenge and the adventure,” she answered softly.

  “But…I will be so far away from you,” I wailed. Elle had been my rock. How could I break away and go across the Atlantic?

  “Time you broke loose from childish tethers. Bobbie, you know I will be a phone call away,” she answered.

  I wanted to hug her, so I did just that, and said, “Come on, I’ll take you out to dinner.”

  “Ohh, starving,” she said, and went for her purse.

  She stopped in front of the cage elevator and stared into space for a moment before hugging me fiercely.

  “Er…Aunt Elle?” I croaked out. “You are crushing me.”

  “Baby girl, take this job, but be cautious…avoid the darkest corners of MacLeod. Something unseen just fluttered in my head and I’m not sure what it is. I do know one thing, you are being pulled to Scotland for a reason. Make that reason your own. Don’t allow anything or anyone to use you beyond your own wishes,” she said, and tapped my nose.

  I laughed and said, “Not your usual pep talk. Now, I’m going to use my credit card and splurge, Auntie Elle. We will go uptown for lunch.”

  She shook out the dark amber colored silk scarf, yet another color to the many she already was wearing, and said, “How do I look?”

  “Like a goddess,” I told her as I looked her up and down. “As always. And you would be exquisite in anything.”

  Elle had to be a little over forty, but she looked twenty-five. When I asked her about her age, she would just wave it off and tell me no one needed to know that number.

  I knew she would only be a phone call—perhaps with our joined magic only a touch away. But so far, my Shama could only transport me short distances. I had only tried using a portal twice before and the farthest it took me was from my apartment to Aunt Elle’s loft.

  “Excellent,” she teased with an arched brow. “Never know who I might bump into.”

  It was later that afternoon when I made it back to my apartment and plopped down to study the contract.

  As I picked up my pen, I got a sudden sensation…a vision of a gray swirling cloud and a distant voice whispered my name.

  What the hell was that?

  Damn, just what was this all about? A strange vampire inquiring about my mother—a very oddly convenient job…in my grandmother’s old village?

  Did I believe in so many coincidences? Not one bit. Was I up to this challenge—this new adventure—hell yeah! I had always wanted to know more about my grandmother and mother. Here was my chance.

  I signed the contract and then hurried out of my apartment, down the block busy with pedestrians, crossed the street teaming with cars and taxis, and headed into the Office Supply store.

  Did I hesitate before I put the signed contract into the fax machine? You betcha! But I sent it anyway.

  ~ Two ~

  FLYING OVER SCOTLAND WAS an experience I will never forget. Yes, the view from my first class window was breathtaking, but it was more, so much more than that.

  It was as though whispery clouds reached into me and melded with my soul. It was as though a clan song began humming its tune in my head. A clan? Had my grandmother been part of a clan?

  Oh, I had so many questions.

  I was worried only once on this trip. When I passed through the TSA and saw someone watching me, I knew he was a vampire at once. Supernaturals on the alert, and I was, can always recognize one another.

  Our eyes met. His were red. His fangs dropped as he stared at me. I couldn’t see much of his face, as his hat was pulled low.

  He turned away and with vampire speed vanished.

  He was able to travel because it was still dark…only 5:00 AM, though my flight wasn’t ‘til 7:00 AM.

  What had that been all about? Was this the French vampire Rafael had been worried about—the one who had inquired about my mother?

  I was too excited about this trip to think much more about it. No doubt he had been at the airport for another reason, and picked up on me as a supernatural. He saw a witch…stared for a moment, and nothing more to it.

  The flight in first class was a dream. I have only once before been on a plane with Aunt Elle when we went to New Orleans for Christmas. I had nearly squealed with delight the entire trip.

  In Scotland, I was whirled through customs, helped into a limousine and off we went down the main highway heading for MacLeod.

  It didn’t seem very long before we turned off onto a well-traveled country road, and my driver was so wonderfully pleasant, keeping me entertained with conversation.

  As we drove, I noticed that the road narrowed and appeared to be scarcely traveled, as we didn’t pass more than a few other vehicles.

  The scenery—the farms and pastures danced in rhythm with the song in my head. The Grampian Mountains, obscured by a light mist, rose into the heavens and yes, Scotland spoke to me. It was as though the melody I heard said, “Ye have coom home, child, ye have coom home.”

  Was I being fanciful?

  In spite of the fact that I am a supernatural, I am not whimsical…well, maybe a little, but those were the words I heard in my head, I was sure of it. It didn’t worry me—quite the opposite.

  I was going to have to get to the ‘Witching Wall’ Aunt Elle had told me about, as soon as I could, and satisfy my curiosity.

  Within thirty-five minutes we were turning onto a long winding asphalt drive whose sign denoted MacLeod Castle.

  We pulled up to the gates about one hundred feet into the driveway and an elderly man stepped out of a small cottage. He nodded at the driver, stared without smiling at me, and moved to an electric box, pressed it and the gates opened wide.

  We drove through while I oohed and aahed out loud.

  The neat driveway was lined with oaks on either side and as we drew closer, I saw an expanse of the famous (I had read up on the castle) MacLeod Gardens.

  I had googled the castle and saw a photograph, and even though I knew what to expect, I sat forward in the back seat of the limo and felt like a child with presents under the tree. I didn’t know where to look first.

  Aside from the fact that it was, really was a medieval castle brought into modern times, I would have been impressed had it been in ruins.

  My imagination had already run wild after I read about the fifteenth century Highland structure’s history and the lords that had occupied the seat over the years.

  The landscaping, as we approached the front stone courtyard, kept my eyes open wider than I thought possible. This was like stepping into a fairy tale.

  I stared at the beautiful sandstone castle, then scanned the gardens, then back to the castle before my eyes were captured by the horses in their pastures. I have a passion for horses and as we drove slowly past them, I couldn’t stop the squeal that escaped my lips.

  We d
rove by the beautiful stone and dark oak trimmed stables and up to the huge sandstone archway that led to the front doors of the Keep. Holy hell—I was going to enter a Keep! How amazing is that!

  I bent my head backwards and stared upward at the majestic castle as my driver came to a stop.

  Spring flowers in an array of colors were everywhere, but especially here at the entrance of the Keep. Lush garden beds and topiaries had decorated the lawns we had driven by, but here at the entrance, there were pots and pots of every size filled with flowers and lush greenery and it was mesmerizing. I found it difficult to look away.

  Was I really here? Could this amazing thing really be happening to me? Other than being a witch, I haven’t had very many adventures…like, none, zero, zilch. Should I pinch myself?

  All the while I felt this warmth reach up from beneath my feet, in the air, all around me, as though telling me ‘welcome home.’

  We parked in the courtyard and the driver beat me to it and got the door opened before I jumped out.

  Outside? There it was, that feeling again. It was as though warm and cuddly magical fingers had reached up from the earth, and stretched through the atmosphere to envelop me. I heard something soft and gentle in my mind and it said, “Welcome home, Bobbie.”

  I gasped out loud, caught myself, and coughed.

  However, all at once, the feeling of warmth and welcome changed and turned ugly.

  I looked up and saw a dark cloud—just one dark cloud, and while I stared at it, a shiver ran through me.

  The driver drew my attention away, saying, “Have ye ever seen Hawthorne trees in bloom, miss?” He indicated with his chin and I looked in that direction to ooh and aah some more.

  The lovely trees lined the walkway that led to the wide arched front door and their fragrant scent filled the air. All at once, I felt myself transported into the deeper recesses of my mind—into my Shama.

  Hawthorne trees, my mother taught me, were sacred to immortal and mortal witches alike. The witch in me wanted to run to the Hawthorne trees and touch. The witch in me wanted to rub against the bark, breathe in the magic from the leaves and be at peace.

  I was drawn almost irresistibly to the trees.

  As I strolled past them to the front door, I couldn’t stop myself and reached out to touch a branch.

  I was immediately transported into a vision.

  I saw the figure of a woman in black and she frightened me. Suddenly, she turned, and her fangs dripped with blood.

  What the hell?

  I shook myself free, but a petal from one of the flowers fell and landed on my cheek and as I took it off, I swear, I heard it say, “Beware, witch, beware.”

  Ok, this was freaky, even for me. Also, it was epic. I mean, honestly, I am, even though I am a witch, a bit of a skeptic about anything I haven’t experienced before. This was a very different experience and while it was exciting beyond thought, I wondered if I wasn’t just being fanciful.

  “Go on, then,” Daniel, my driver, told me. “I’ll follow with yer luggage.”

  Luggage? I only had one suitcase and one overnight bag. College tuition had left me with very little left over for clothes or shoes.

  For a moment, I put aside my Hawthorne tree experience and stared at the castle. Oh, but it was undeniably magnificent.

  I moved forward over the flat blue-stone steps and hesitated to take another moment to admire.

  The architecture was exquisite, and I imagined all the history the stone walls held within, as well as around the grounds.

  The building was made of sandstone and designed with lovely fairy-tale turrets. The two wings, which flanked the arched front doors to the Keep, were partially and beautifully covered with ivy. The Keep was three stories high. At the roof of the Keep was a battlement that stretched to a whimsical conical blue slated turret at each end. The two wings were designed much the same, and the whole affect had me in awe.

  Everywhere I looked, there were flowering vines attractively adorning huge, dark wooden posts, and arched hideaways.

  Everything spoke of ancient, yet it was obvious that it had been lovingly restored and modernized by a contractor who had taken great pains to maintain the building’s original integrity.

  Daniel eyed me and asked, “Are ye all right then, miss?”

  He was elderly and dear, with shocks of white hair protruding from his wool peaked cap, and this made me smile.

  “Yes, oh yes.”

  “Then ye aren’t worried, are ye? Shouldna be. People talk and say how MacLeod is haunted because of…well, I dinnae think any ghost will bother ye.” He smiled kindly.

  “A ghost? No, I hadn’t heard that. I didn’t read that anywhere in its write-up either.” I was immediately thrilled. A ghost? I had never interacted with a ghost. “How great is that!”

  He laughed. “Do ye believe in ghosts, miss?”

  “Of course, doesn’t everyone?” I smiled and gave him an enormous tip, I could afford it now.

  He thanked me, but there wasn’t time for more as the front doors were opened wide and I got my first view of the Great Hall.

  “Okay, wow,” I said out loud as I wondered how the hell I was going to manage all of this. Where—how do I start?

  If this were a hotel bringing in money, I would know exactly what to do, but this entire place was a private residence, and the money to run it had to be unbelievably enormous. If they asked me to find a way to save money…well, that would be a challenge.

  I already knew that Lord MacLeod didn’t allow paying visitors and therefore didn’t offset their taxes with income. What did it take financially to manage all of this and was bill paying part of my job?

  Well, I would figure it all out tomorrow. Even though I had jet lag, I was psyched and absolutely had decided today was for exploring!

  A middle-aged man with his gray hair severely plastered to his oval head, stood waiting at the open front doors for me to recover from my fascination with everything. I noted then that he neither looked patient nor welcoming.

  I gave him a smile, but did not receive one in return, so I took open stock of him and noted that his faded blue eyes while he regarded me were not cold, but they were not friendly either. What was up with that?

  His lips were thin and he was dressed in what I assumed was a butler’s uniform of black except for the white shirt-points, black tailed coat, pants, vest, and a black and white striped tie.

  He said without warmth, “Welcome, Miss Skye.”

  I ignored the cool reception and decided his job probably required him to be aloof. Auntie always teases me and says that I am ‘too nice—too open’ and would defend the devil himself.

  I don’t think that is quite true, but I do like to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.

  At any rate, I stepped past him and stood in the Great Hall I had been openly admiring. The rectangular room housed a round table in its center. An iron and wood chandelier hung over the table where a large ceramic pot held a gorgeous array of flowers.

  Otherwise, the room seemed starkly under-furnished.

  I smiled to myself to see a suit of armor standing in one corner of the room beside a stained glass arched window and beside that a tall palm. The other walls were adorned with what appeared to be family portraits.

  One in particular caught my eye, but as my driver had put down the bags and was taking his leave, I turned back to thank him once again.

  I watched him leave before my attention was taken by the butler who coughed and apparently waited my instructions.

  I said, “So, then, since I’ll be working here, why don’t you call me Bobbie and I’ll call you?”

  “Davis,” he said, still aloof. “I will have your bags taken to your quarters, Miss Skye, by one of the cleaning crew.”

  “Oh, do you have a crew living here at MacLeod?” I asked curiously.

  “No, they come in once a week. We asked them to come in today to make everything in readiness for your arrival, as per Mr. Ascot’s i
nstructions. Ah, here is Samuel…” Davis snapped his fingers and waved over a young man, who I guessed to be just a bit younger than I am. “Aye, then, sir,” Sam said, smiling and nodding to me. “Want me to take this up for miss?”

  “Precisely,” Davis said.

  Sam took up my two suitcases and with one last smile my way, hurried up the wide set of stairs.

  “Mrs. Tunny should be here in a moment. She will give you a tour of the house and take you to your room.”

  “Fantastic,” I said, ready to be happy whether he was or not.

  He bowed himself off and as I watched him go, I returned to the portraits, stopping before one in particular.

  Oooh…he was handsome. It was done of, I suppose, one of the lords…one from the late 1800s judging by his clothes. He was tall, with his white shirt billowing in the wind. His black hair was windblown as well, and he had a wild look in his blue eyes. He was my type, I noted immediately and laughed out loud at myself, but put a hand over my mouth as I heard the sound of approaching steps and turned away from the painting to find a plump woman with short brown, lifeless hair approach. I judged her age as mature. Her manner of walking was brisk, no nonsense, as was her appraisal of me.

  I noted her style of dress, a dark gray pantsuit and cream colored blouse made her look more like she sat behind a desk than stood at a stove, and wondered if she had several roles here at MacLeod.

  Her aura of detachment made my witchy senses wary. It was as though she already disliked me. What was going on here? Didn’t Davis and Mrs. Tunny want me here?

  I gave her a bright smile. She didn’t return one. In fact, as she got closer, I saw something like irritation in her hazel eyes.

  Why? I hadn’t been here long enough to annoy anyone.

  She said, “I’ll show ye to yer room, Miss Skye, so ye can freshen up before Mr. Ascot arrives.”

  “Oh, I was hoping to get a quick tour…” I said, disappointed.

  “There isn’t time, but before I leave for the day, I will acquaint ye with yer surroundings. Mr. Ascot called and said he wanted a word with ye upon yer arrival. I just got off the phone with him and he should be here in thirty minutes.”