Lured to the Night (The Brotherhood Series Book 4) by Adele Clee Page B

explain the reason for the slight tremble in his fingers.
    She struggled to meet his gaze as she accepted the drink. “Thank you.” Her words were only fractionally louder than a whisper. The cup rattled on the saucer as she held it in her lap.
    “I find it fascinating to see how those like us take their daily sustenance,” Ivana said, choosing words that roused a sense of fellowship. “Our friend and brother used to drink from a wine glass, his blood stored in a crystal decanter. I struggled to find any pleasure in the process and so chose to approach it as one would a medicinal tonic.” The lady smiled affectionately when Isla raised her chin. “There is something quite refined about drinking from a teacup.”
    Isla gave a snort of contempt. “There is nothing refined about drinking blood.”
    “Perhaps not.” Ivana inclined her head graciously. “But when one deals with adversity with an air of elegance and poise, it conveys great strength of character.”
    “Now get this dazzling beauty down yer necks,” Douglas said. In his eagerness to boast as to the quality of the beverage, he sounded more like a pirate from the high seas. The old man beamed as he distributed the glasses of whisky. “There’s nothing as fine this side of the border.”
    Lachlan swirled the amber liquid around in the glass before taking a nip. The heat instantly warmed his cheeks, and he sucked in a short, sharp breath. “I hope this is less potent that Boyd’s latest concoction.”
    “Ah, yer man Boyd has a lot to learn about whisky,” Douglas said as he relaxed back in the chair. “And ye should know better than to drink something distilled away from prying eyes by a bunch of slovenly fools.”
    Leo gave a satisfied hum as he swallowed down what some referred to as the water of life. “There is a certain smokiness to it that is quite irresistible.”
    Ivana’s sudden splutter and cough captured their attention and revealed her lack of experience when it came to drinking spirits. With a grimace, she thrust the glass at her husband. “As you seem so enamoured with it, you are more than welcome to drink mine.”
    “It will warm yer bones on a night such as this, my lady.”
    Ivana visibly shuddered. “Please do not be offended Mr. Douglas, but I would rather drink a teacup full of blood than take another sip.”
    The mere mention of blood drew Lachlan’s attention to the lady at his side. Isla had sat silently throughout the lively exchange. He glanced covertly at the teacup, noting with some surprise that it was empty. As his gaze travelled up to the full lips tinged a burgundy red, his heart skipped a beat. Not because he found the sight of blood on her lips abhorrent. More that they looked red and swollen as though a man had taken a great deal of time and effort to ravish her sweet mouth.
    She looked up at him, shrank lower in the chair. The luscious lips he admired were now stretched long and thin, a sign that she felt shame or perhaps embarrassment for sating her craving whilst in company.
    “Shall I take your cup?” Lachlan held out his hand. It was a gesture of support, of acceptance and he hoped she read it that way.
    A weak smile touched her lips as she handed him the blood-stained china. Their fingers brushed, only for a second, but the tug in his chest made him want to take her in his arms and soothe her fears. From the soulful look in her eyes, he wondered if she was attempting to use her talent to read his mind.
    Did he really want her to know what he was thinking?
    I wish we were alone together on the banks of the burn. I would take your hand in mine and tell you not to worry. I would love you as I once promised. I would protect you so you’d need never shed a tear again.
    He repeated the mantra over and over in his mind as his gaze locked with hers. The flash of recognition in her silvery-blue eyes convinced him she had managed to hear some of his words. With a sad sigh, she turned away from him.
    “I have