The Vampire Laird (A Ravynne Sisters Paranormal Mystery/Romance) Read Free

his interest. Beekeeping had never been one of his ambitions! He was restless…agitated…practically crawling up the dinghy floral papered walls. The moon was full and he wondered if, perhaps, it was influencing him in some strange way. Nothing was beginning to surprise him.
    After pacing the length of his room for half an hour, he decided to go for a walk and maybe take some pictures of the graveyard in moonlight. He moved to the window and looked out at the night. Off in the distance, silvered by the moon, the castle looked haunted. Did anybody live there or was it just another old ruin, he wondered? Wouldn’t Meg love to see it…and Charlie. His eyes trailed down to the manor, where lights glowed warmly. At least someone else is awake in this God forsaken place, he thought.
    Then something caught his eye, as it moved along the moonlit road. It was a long time before the figure got close enough that he could see it was a woman…a woman dressed in white. A woman in white stirring about at midnight on the moors? He laughed quietly. It was the stuff of legends. He would have to have a closer look.
    He left the manse stealthily and stole out into the night. A cool breeze stirred the yew trees and fingered its way among the graves. It was eerie and hauntingly beautiful, he thought, as he hid behind the tombstone of one Ian McDougal who, according to his moon washed epitaph, had died more than a century before. Just ahead, he could see her nearing the low churchyard wall. She was singing…her voice like silver bells tinkling in the wind. It was an old ballad he had never heard before. Would she open the gate or go on to another destination? Perhaps some guy was waiting for her in the village, though he hadn’t seen a single one so far who would tempt any woman in her right mind.
    He was holding his breath, waiting to see what she would do next, when she opened the gate and glided inside. He hadn’t really believed people could glide , but she did…moving like a ship across water in her diaphanous white gown. He smiled. She looked like she’d just stepped out of one of those Gothic novels Meg liked to read.
    She followed the path through the tall grass till she reached the mausoleum, then walked right through the closed doors. Light flared behind the small stained glass windows just below the stone fretwork that edged the roof. How could she just pass through closed doors, he wondered, and what would she be doing in there this time of night? Was she some supernatural being from the Otherworld? Someone he was fated to meet? Things…people…like her don’t really exist, he thought, and pinched himself really hard to see if he was dreaming. He swallowed the ‘ouch!” that produced. If he wasn’t dreaming, then she must be real. Maybe she was the one he was meant to meet?
    Slipping from tombstone to tombstone, he moved closer until he was standing at the foot of the three steps that led to the mausoleum. Suddenly, the doors swung open and she stepped out into the moonlight. She seemed to glow from within… more beautiful than he could ever have imagined or dreamed. She smiled directly at him, as she tossed him a single white rose, and then vanished into thin air.
    He shook his head and smiled bitterly. The next time he saw her, she didn’t vanish…or smile…unless you could call that wicked grimace a ‘smile’. She stalked him, cornered him, and there on the grave of a long dead Scotsman savagely took him. Not that he had been unwilling. It had been rather thrilling at the time, but now he belonged to her, body and soul, no matter how much she repelled and frightened him. Yes. He had learned what she was. He had managed to get himself into a world of crap…in love or lust with a Baobhan Sith…a bloodsucking Scottish vampire. And to think that at one time he hadn’t believed such a thing could possibly exist! Another howl…this time much closer. She was almost there. He knew by all he held dear, he should