Highlander Hellcat PG-13 Version Page 5

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  Afterwards Garth, Lachlan, and Leslie began to make their way back towards Castle MacWulver and the Scottish Highlands. “Before we return let’s see if we can’t hunt down some fresh meat for tonight’s dinner.” Lachlan suggested, with an excited gleam in his green-gray eyes. He loved a good hunt.

  “Good idea!” Leslie readily agreed. “I brought an extra bow and quiver of arrows for Garth to use in case we decided to go hunting. The weather today really is bonny.” Leslie urged her horse Fiona to move closer to Goliath. Leslie handed Garth the extra bow and quiver of arrows.

  Garth looked down at the weapon quizzically. “I recognize these weapons somehow, but I don’t know if I know how to shoot a bow or not.”

  “Well, you’re about to find out. Let’s make this a contest.” Lachlan suggested slyly. “The one who doesn’t manage to shoot a deer, boar or rabbit will have to butcher the other’s bounty.”

  “I’m in.” Leslie said confidently. “You lads are losing today!”

  “We’ll see about that.” Lachlan shot back.

  Lachlan and Leslie kicked their horse’s sides and veered off the road that led to the castle, and instead took a path that led into the nearby forest. “Hey, wait up, you two!” Garth maneuvered Goliath to face the right direction and squeezed his horse’s sides. Goliath shot off like a lightning bolt down the dirt path and into the forest.

  As Garth entered the forest he looked around for any sign of Lachlan or Leslie. “Those jerks…they’ve completely left me behind.” And Garth was in an unfamiliar place. He had no idea how to navigate his way through the forest.

  Garth decided he would just stick to the obvious forest path. He reached over his shoulder to pull an arrow from the quiver and nocked it to his bow. The motion seemed natural and practiced as if he’d done it hundreds of times before. Well, I guess that answers my question. Apparently, I have used a bow in the past.

  The sound of a branch breaking got Garth’s attention and he turned in his saddle, aiming his arrow in the direction the sound had come from. Garth spotted a large stag with an enormous pair of antlers on its head. He almost loosed his arrow upon it immediately, but then noted that the stag’s eyes were glowing with an eerie blue light. That wasn’t natural. Garth decided with a feeling of suspicion and unease.

  The stag appeared to be looking right at him, and didn’t appear to be afraid. In fact, there was something about that gaze which made Garth feel like he was being assessed. Those swirling blue eyes seemed to see right through him to his very soul in an unsettling manner.

  The stag turned its antlered head to peer in one direction in the forest, and then turned its head to look at Garth again. After that the stag began to slowly take off into the forest as if it expected Garth to follow it.

  How strange. Garth scratched his head, wondering what he should do. He shrugged and lowered his bow. “Ah, what the hell.” He turned Goliath off the main forest path and began to follow the stag deep into the forest.

  The deeper they went the less sun permeated the woods. The oak trees were older, taller, had thicker trunks, and were growing closer together. A thick, bright green moss covered the entire forest floor. Strange looking mushrooms could be seen growing on rotting tree trunks.

  A thick mist began to form all around him, so that Garth could no longer see the dirt path he was on. The air temperature dropped several degrees, and he could see his own breath coming out in white puffs in front of his face. Garth kept his eyes on the stag in front of him, making sure not to lose sight of it.

  A few minutes later, he exited the tree line into a grassy clearing. On the other side of the clearing was a small, lone, stone cottage with a thatched roof. A thin trail of smoke could be seen rising up from a stone chimney. This mysterious dwelling was literally out in the middle of nowhere, and Garth wondered what kind of person would choose to live there.

  Garth approached the house and noted that it had a pretty impressive herb garden in front of it. The stag’s eyes stopped glowing blue and it began to graze at the herb garden as if nothing out of the ordinary was amiss. Garth deduced that perhaps a ‘healer’ lived there, and then wondered why that seemed plausible when he had no memory of ever having encountered a healer before.

  Garth dismounted from Goliath and tethered the horse to a nearby rickety, wooden fence. He decided to see who lived in this enigmatic cottage. Curiosity killed the cat, the humans said. Garth was a curious lad though, and didn’t care about the saying’s warning. He approached the front door and knocked loudly.

  “Do come in.” A deep female voice called back from within.

  Garth pictured an old crone in his mind with warts all over her face, scraggly gray hair, and a hooked nose. She’d probably be dressed all in black and maybe with a pointed hat on her head. “Pardon the intrusion.” Garth called out as he let himself inside and closed the door behind him.

  Garth looked around the interior of the cottage with interest. It was illuminated by hundreds of lit candles that had been placed on any surface that was available: on small wooden tables, stools, and on a dresser. Dried, sweet-smelling herbs hung from the ceiling in small tied bundles. The scent of sandalwood incense was drifting through the air of the cottage.

  A woman with long black hair with scattered braids, who was dressed in a black medieval dress with belled sleeves, stood with her back to Garth as she stirred the suspicious bubbling contents of a large black cauldron. She was humming a little Scottish tune to herself. “I’ve been expecting you, Garth MacWulver.” The woman turned around to reveal that she was no old crone, but a lovely young woman with moon-white skin.

  Her eyes were unsettling, however, and bi-colored. The woman’s right eye was a dark blue and her left eye was a ruby red. Garth noticed that there was a small blue crescent moon tattoo in the middle of her forehead, which meant she was probably a Druid Priestess and worshipper of the Goddess.

  There was a strange, hungry gleam in her eyes that made the hair on the back of Garth’s neck stand on end. He swallowed thickly. “How do you know my name, lass?”

  A wicked smile curled her blood-red lips. “I’m a witch. I saw you in my scrying mirror. I’ve been waiting for you to arrive.” The witch sashayed over to Garth until she stood directly in front of him.

  Garth took a wary step back and knocked into the kitchen table that was behind him. “A witch? And what do you want with me?”

  The witch took a step closer to Garth and placed her hand over his muscular chest. She began to draw playful, teasing circles on his bare chest. “I need your help.”

  Garth arched an eyebrow at this strange woman. “And what makes you think I’d help you, witch?”

  “Because…” The witch placed a hand directly over Garth’s heart. “You are a kind-hearted man, Garth. You wouldn’t leave a damsel in distress.”

  “You don’t look like you’re in distress to me.”

  “Oh, but I am. I am a pitiful existence. I am half-Druid, half-vampire. My father was a Druid, who hunted vampires, and my mother was a vampire. They fell in love. Even though their love was forbidden. Both of them were rejected by their people, and hunted down and killed soon after I was born. I, of course, wasn’t accepted by either the Druids or the vampires. I am neither all-Druid, nor all-vampire. I am stuck somewhere between both worlds. Both groups try to kill me relentlessly. And I’m left with this awful thirst. This hunger…” Her red eye glowed, and she panted as she eyed Garth’s jugular.

  Garth brow furrowed in confusion. “Hunger?” He’d seen the witch’s vegetable garden outside and highly doubted that she was starving to death.

  The witch raised her hand and stroked Garth’s neck with her index finger, sliding her finger over his carotid. “I thirst…to drink your blood.”

  “My blood.” Garth repeated, incredulous.

  “Yes. Just a little taste. It won’t kill you. After all you’re immortal. So what do you say, will you help me?” The witch ga
ve Garth a hopeful look.

  “What’s in it for me if I do?” Garth asked as he crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows at her.

  The witch smiled seductively, and slipped her black dress off her shoulders so that it pooled at her feet, revealing her fully naked body to Garth.

  Garth sucked in a breath at the sight of her beautiful, flawless, naked body. He felt himself get turned on at the sight of her.

  The witch’s bi-colored eyes sparkled with knowing. “Like what you see, Highlander Hellcat? Then, take me. And in return allow me to drink from you.”

  Garth took a step forward, reached out to her, but then stopped himself. He shook his head, a frown on his face. “I will not take advantage of you, lass.”

  A flash of surprise crossed the witch’s face. “It’s not taking advantage if I want it. And I want you, Highlander.” The witch pressed herself up against Garth’s body and rubbed herself wantonly against him.

  Garth groaned at the sensation. Bloody hell. He could feel the reins on his self-control beginning to snap. He looked down at the witch, and she looked up at him. He lowered his head and captured her lips with his own, finally giving into temptation.

  The witch eagerly kissed Garth back and deepened their kiss, thrusting her tongue into his hot mouth. While Garth was distracted with kissing her she quickly undid Garth’s leather belt and tossed it aside. She began to impatiently tug his tartan kilt off next. Soon the length of plaid material was joining the belt on the floor.

  The witch reached down and pleasured Garth with her hand. Garth groaned against her lips at the feeling of her delicate hand around him, and wondered when he’d suddenly become naked. It was like the witch had cast a spell on him, and maybe she had.

  The smell of incense within the cottage had grown stronger and smoke seemed to fill the air, making Garth wonder if all of this was just a dream.

  The witch was highly skilled and her ministrations were Garth’s undoing. With a feral growl he spun the witch around so that she was pressed up against the kitchen table. Garth put his large hands on her hips and lifted her up onto the table. He spread her legs and stared at her.

  She looked delicious. Good enough to eat. “Take me, Garth. Now.” The witch beckoned on a throaty moan.

  “Not yet, lass.” Garth sunk to his knees before the witch and put his head between her legs.

  “W-What are you doing?” She gasped in surprise.

  “Kissing.” Garth rumbled before he kissed her.

  “Oh!” She shuddered at the sensation.

  Garth began to devour her with his mouth. “Oh Goddess!” The witch cried as she raked her nails into Garth’s scalp, pressing him even closer against her. Her blood felt like it was setting on fire and began to pulse fiercely through her veins.

  Garth pleasured her with his mouth until she shattered against him, her body trembling. Garth stood and saw that the witch now had a slightly dazed, sated look on her face. Her pale cheeks were flushed. “Now you’re ready for me, witch.” Garth stated firmly as he spread her legs and joined their bodies.

  “Ah!” The witch cried out as Garth became one with her. She raked her nails up and down his back as he began to move in a steady rhythm. Her nails drew blood and the scent of his blood threw her into a lustful frenzy. “Yes, oh yes, more. I must have more!” She writhed against him eagerly.

  “Aye.” Garth heartily agreed as he began to increase his pace.

  The witch lowered her head to the crook of Garth’s neck and sunk her fangs into his flesh there. Garth moaned as the witch began to drink his blood. He felt himself get even more turned on. He couldn’t stop the wave of pleasure that crashed into him and let out a loud masculine grunt.

  The witch cried out as Garth reached his peak.

  It was time to end his life.

  The witch raised her left arm and turned it to reveal the blue Celtic tattoo design of a dagger with a curved blade on her forearm. She reached her right hand towards the dagger, about to cause it to materialize with her magical power. But when Garth abruptly hugged her tightly she began to have second thoughts of ending his life.

  “That was amazing, lass.” Garth complimented, his voice low and husky. “You’re amazing.”

  Amazing am I? The witch smiled smugly and dropped her hand. Perhaps, she would spare this shifter’s life. For now, anyways. She lamented the fact that he hadn’t taken her during her fertile time. A son by a shifter like him would have been quite the asset. She pouted, perhaps she could convince this Highland shifter to bed her again sometime soon. He’d performed rather well, after all. The witch reached her peak for a second time, and held onto Garth as her body trembled against his.

  As soon as Garth came down from his high, he instantly regretted what he’d done. Why had he given into his lust so easily? He wondered. Bloody hell. This wasn’t like him. He didn’t use women like this. Or at least, he liked to hope that he didn’t. He didn’t remember his past after all.

  “Garth! Hey, Garth! Where are you?” A familiar male voice demanded from outside the cottage. It was Lachlan.

  “Ah, your handsome friend is here. Pity.” The witch pouted, but then her lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Unless…you’d like him to join us for round two?” There was a hopeful look in her bi-colored eyes.

  Garth flushed at the lewd suggestion, and pulled away from the witch. “Och, sorry, but…I’ll have to pass on that. I gotta go.” He grabbed his plaid from the floor and quickly wrapped it around his waist. He secured the plaid with his leather belt. Garth strode towards the door, but stopped as he reached for the doorknob. He glanced over his shoulder at the sexy witch. “What’s your name, bonny witch?”

  She smiled sensually. “It’s Iona.”

  “Take care of yourself, Iona.”

  “Oh, I will. I always do. Don’t forget to take the stag with you.”

  “The stag?”

  “Oh yes, he’s already dead. I killed him for you.”

  Garth shuddered, wondering how she’d managed to do that exactly since he’d been with her the entire time. “Ah, thank you.” Garth exited the cottage and spotted the dead stag by the herb garden. How…? He picked up the stag, draped it over his shoulders, and approached Lachlan, who was next to Goliath while still seated on his horse Duff.

  “Ah, Garth, there you are. And I see you’ve managed to get us dinner. Well done.” Lachlan nodded towards the stag. He gave the cottage a curious look. “Who lives in there?”

  “An old crone. A healer.” Garth lied and had to rub his hand over his mouth to hide his smile.

  “That so?” Lachlan’s gaze stayed on the cottage a moment longer. “I’ve heard tales about this part of the woods. That a bloodsucking monster lives here.” He shrugged. “Never mind.”

  “Hey, lads!” A familiar female voice called out, and both men turned to see Leslie riding towards them. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you two. Look what I caught, rabbits!” Leslie held up five rabbits.

  “Wait, does that mean I’m the only one who didn’t catch anything?” Lachlan asked his companions, who smiled at him smugly. “Darn it.” He rubbed a hand down his face.

  “Looks like it.” Leslie laughed at Lachlan’s plight. “Guess you’ll be the one cleaning these here animals for dinner tonight.”

  “Bloody hell.” Lachlan swore.

  After securing the stag to the back of his saddle Garth mounted Goliath.

  “Come on, lads. It’s getting late. Let’s go back home.” Leslie said amiably before taking off into the forest at a spirited trot.

  Garth cast one last pensive look at the cottage and the mysterious witch Iona before he followed his friends Leslie and Lachlan out of the dark forest and headed back to Castle MacWulver. Back to his new home.

  To be continued in…Candy 5: Zoo Lollipop