Jamie ran as fast as her feet could carry her. Panting, sprinting, she rushed through the thick forest as if her life depended on it. Because it did. The moon hung full and white over the tops of the trees, its light threading down through the leaves as the sound of a long and mournful howl filled the world around her. It drowned out the sound of her beating heart, so fast that it pounded in her ears and filled her throat. Her sides were aching, her knees were scraped and bloody, and her mouth was dry as she tried desperately to outrun the monster that was hunting her, calling her, looking for her. It was so close she could hear the crashing of leaves and twigs it trampled in its wake, in its fight to catch her. It howled again and the sound was closer, making Jamie cry out with fear and dread. She just needed to get a little bit farther to the cliffs. Then she would jump and hope the river didn't kill her. After all, drowning would be a much better fate than what the monster at her back had planned.
She could hear the frothing panting breath of an animal and she screamed in an attempt to push herself just a little bit more, a few more yards. She yelped when she tumbled over her feet in her rush and crashed through the trees to the rocky cliffs where the land ended and the sea began. She could feel blood running down her face and her ankle ached. One or two fingers were broken and she grunted in pain as she tried to stand up. But all she could do was collapse and drag her foot through the rocky undergrowth to the very tip of the precipitous cliff. All Jamie had to do was turn her head a little and she could see the choppy, angry waves of the Northern Sea surrounding her below. They rocked and crashed against the cliff face, promising a harrowing and cold death. But she would welcome it, every single second of it. If it meant...
Jamie's breath left her when the woods in front of her moved and the monster revealed itself from behind the trees. It stood over seven feet tall, covered in dark, bristly fur, panting from a pointed snout that dripped long fangs covered in saliva. Its eyes were a piercing, preternatural green and they stayed on her as it walked forward on its hind legs, inching closer and closer.
A small rock collapsed behind Jamie and she watched as it tumbled down, down the steep cliffside into the treacherous sea. It disappeared into the waves, lost forever. But as she turned she could see the huge, monstrous paw of the beast edge closer. Her whole body trembled so hard she was sure she would fall off and she was so frightened she couldn't stop her bladder from releasing or tears from flowing down her cheeks. Certain death was all that awaited her and she said a small prayer for mercy as she stared into the eyes of the beast about to devour her.
Its lips peeled back, revealing two rows of stinking, pointed teeth as its breath came out like a dragon's. It growled, poised to pounce and she could see its claws curl in anticipation.
Jamie slowly stood up, closed her eyes, and stepped off the ledge.
____________________________________________________________________________
Two Months Earlier
"Fuck me," Jamie cursed as she tried to get the cellular data back on her phone. The navigation app continued to tell her she had no service, however, and she threw the phone down in frustration. The map was also no help. She had stupidly gotten off A96 when her navigator had seduced her with a shortcut, and she couldn't see anything through the gray haze of rain. She squinted and saw a soft yellow light in the distance but wasn't sure if the road led in that direction. She had to admit it now: she was lost.
"Good job, Campbell."
She rested her head against the steering wheel and let herself wallow for a few moments. Her stubbornness had once again gotten the better of her. Jamie had ignored her advisor's input and foregone the group trip to Dunotarr Castle, opting instead to trek out on her own. Her research had led her to the discovery of an apparently "extinct" village near Ballindalloch, just north of the Cairngorm Mountains, something that filled her with excitement and curiosity for the first time in a long time. She had come to Scotland for a study abroad after hitting a wall with her thesis; she needed some inspiration. So far she had found none either until she had come across the old tome that sat next to her on the passenger seat. Finally, she had a question to answer, a historical mystery to solve, a story that had no author. The only problem was that she had decided to try and find the location of the village on her own and had ended up lost as a result.
As the rain turned to a mist and her phone battery got lower and lower, she decided she had no choice. Jamie was a lot of things, but passive wasn't one of them. She left the car and headed out into the foggy pasture ahead of her, hoping to follow the soft yellow light she could see in the distance. Over a short fence and through a small wood, she came to a small and very modest village with no signs of a gas station or supermarket. Just an old, rotting fence and several small cottages and shops. But the soft yellow light blazed in front of a larger building from which she could hear multiple voices and see revelry of some sort through the stain-glassed windows.
Sure enough, it looked like a pub. Low ceilings and tight corners. Even lower lighting and loud voices laughing and chatting. A bar wrapped around the front and five to six men and women sat at it with Guinnesses and whiskey, enjoying themselves as a woman behind the bar laughed with them. She was a larger, full-boned woman, and kind-looking. She was the first to look up when Jamie walked in. Then the rest of the room also looked at her, all of their eyes glued to her like she'd walked in from outer space.
"Hi," Jamie offered weakly to the eerily quiet room.
"You need something, dear?" the bartender asked.
The rest of the room stared at her.
"Yes, actually. I got lost and I was wondering if anyone could help me get back to A96?"
They looked at her as if she'd just spoken in Turkish.
"Okay... Is there a phone I could borrow?"
"No phones, dear." It was the bartender again. Apparently, she spoke for the entire establishment.
Jamie was starting to regret ever leaving her car. "No phones? Like no mobile phones?"
"No phones, period. You're a ways off from A96 too, dearie. It'll take two hours to get back there and the roadway is closed from flooding."
"What?" Jamie couldn't understand how she had gotten that lost that quickly and was starting to feel the twinges of panic. "I-I don't understand. How do I get back?"
A few of the patrons exchanged furtive glances until finally one older gentleman pulled out a seat from the bar and said, "You'll have to wait till morning. Best to have a drink then."
Jamie looked at her phone. Dead. Then she looked out the windows at the rain that had begun to fall hard again. She had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach but she knew holing up in the car wouldn't necessarily keep her safe or get her to Aberdeen any faster. Better to get some information from the locals so she could find a way out.
She took the offered seat and watched the bartender very closely as she poured her a pint.
"Where you from, lass?" the man who had offered her a place at the bar asked. He had a thick gray beard with long, impressive whiskers that moved when he spoke.
"Well, I'm American but I'm studying at St. Andrews for the summer. Came to the Aberdeen for the weekend and decided to do some researching."
A clap of thunder shook the pub and Jamie looked out as the rain started to pelt down in sheets. The bartender gave a small sigh, almost as if she was relieved.
"How did you end up here?" another patron asked. He was also older with a shaven face full of jowls. No one in the pub looked younger than fifty.
"Well, I'm researching something for my thesis. I've been looking at the impact of English settlement on the Highlands and I found references to a community that I think the English might have wiped off the map."
The room went deathly silent and another clap of thunder shook them as lightning lit their harried faces.
Finally, the bartender ventured, "What's the name of this village, lass?"
"Um, Gealach Lán, although my pronunciation might be off."
The same uncomfortable silence permeated and she caught the looks between some of the locals again.
"Aye," the man with the knit cap replied. He said the name with his Scottish burr and took a long drink of his Guinness. "We've heard the tales."
Jamie's frustration and discomfort suddenly evaporated as her academic interest took over. "You have? Can you all tell me anything about it?"
Suddenly a blast of lightning and thunder bathed the pub in darkness and they all groaned at the loss of power.
"Not to worry, you ruffians," the bartender called out. She lit a few lanterns behind the bar and began handing out candles and matches. "Probably better this way."
"Why did you say that?" Jamie asked when a number of patrons muttered in agreement.
"You best forget about Gealach Lán," gray whiskers said, ignoring her question. "It disappeared so long ago that no one can remember much about it. Best to be forgotten."
"That's not really how history works though." Jamie dutifully took a candle and lit it. "Sometimes those are the most important places."
"God smote it, love," the bartender offered. "Don't worry about such fairy stories now. Enjoy your drink and wait for the storm to pass. You'll go nowhere in this weather."
Gray whiskers added next to her, "You'll go nowhere this night." His tone was not menacing or threatening in any way though. He sounded scared.
____________________________________________________________________________
The storm did not let up. It battered the pub for hours as the day darkened quickly and night arrived. Thankfully, they had some food and Jamie snacked on chips and bangers as she nursed her drink. When the sun went down and she asked again for a way back to the highway, they all cautioned her against it.
"Best not, lass," the bartender, Deidra, said. "It's not the night to be heading out into the woods. You can stay here for the night. I have a cot I can set up in the spare room upstairs."
Jamie was becoming increasingly suspicious of these bar guests and their cryptic warnings. She did not get the sense that they meant her any harm, but she knew they were hiding something.
"Why is tonight not the night?"
Again, they all gave each other secret glances that communicated some information to which she was obviously not privy.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but what are you all hiding?"
Her bluntness threw them off and they stared at her in wonderment.
"Just like an American, it seems," gray whiskers, Donald, supplied.
However, Deidra would not budge. "We've traditions, ways of being here, lass. We know these lands. 'Tis not safe on a night like this." She poured Jamie another drink. "You let me know as soon as you're tired and I'll set up the cot for you."
Oddly, no one seemed to leave as the night waned. A few patrons had left the pub hours earlier as dusk settled in but those who had stayed through dinner lay down in booths or used sweaters as pillows on the floor. Donald fell asleep at the bar, his whiskers moving with every snore.
Before Deidra took Jamie up to the spare room, she went to the door and secured it with an iron bar. She drew the curtains on each window and pulled a table to place in front of the already-secured door. Then she extinguished the lanterns and blew out the candles one by one.
Jamie watched cautiously as Deidra opened the door to a small, bare room above the pub. It had a small, barred window and storage boxes stacked up against the wall. Deidra grabbed a cot and some ancient-looking sheets from a hallway closet and made up the bed routinely as if she had done this before for another guest. When she saw the expression on Jamie's face, she smiled warmly.
"I know it seems strange, lass, but we only mean to keep you safe."
"Safe from what?"
Deidra paused, clearly questioning her next words, but sat down on the cot and patted the side next to her.
"It's bad luck you got lost here, lass," Deidra started. "This is a cursed place, this town. We've grown to get used to it after hundreds and hundreds of years, of course, and we don't get strangers much since we're well off the beaten path... but occasionally we get a traveler like yourself. Sadly, the last time we had one he ignored our warnings and tried to find his way home on a night like this."
Jamie wasn't afraid of Deidra and she wasn't afraid of the kindly townsfolk bunked downstairs. But she was afraid. Of something.
"What happened to him?"
Deidra's face fell as she looked off into the distant past. "We didn't find him... whole."
Just as Jamie felt the pit of her stomach bottom out, a long, loud, and unearthly howl sounded in the near distance.
"I have to get out of here!" Jamie cried as she shot up.
But Deidra grabbed her arm and pulled her down, warning, "The last thing you want to do right now, dearie, is run off into the night. At least you'll be safe here. I've barred the doors and have the shotgun ready just in case. Please, don't do anything stupid."
The goosebumps still hadn't receded from Jamie's flesh when she nodded dumbly. Pulling the blanket tightly around her after Deidra left, Jamie said a prayer for the first time in a long time and tried to ignore the sounds of the night outside. How the hell had she ended up here?
____________________________________________________________________________
It was the worst night's sleep of her life, and that was saying something. Stiff as a board from the painfully uncomfortable cot, Jamie crawled out of the sheets and looked out of the small, barred window. The rain had not let up. Instead, it came down even heavier, casting the morning with an ugly gray pall.
Her mouth was dry and she could taste the stink of her morning breath. Her contacts were glued to her eyeballs and she could smell the stink of her sweat. She had vacillated between trembling in fear and pacing the room as she listened to every sound she could make out. Apparently, she had gotten a little bit of sleep, but it had not been for long, and Jamie had felt personally attacked by the rainy morning light.
The howling had occurred all night. A deep, eerie baying echoed off the walls. Sometimes it had appeared so close Jamie was sure whatever creature was making the noise was at the pub door. She was positive she had even heard something batter against it. She had prayed to every saint she could remember to not let that thing break down the door.
When she went back downstairs to the bar, she could see she was in good company. The others had awoken and looked worse for the wear, already ordering drinks to stave off the crappy night's sleep.
"Well, Deidra, thank you for everything." Jamie looked at the heavy rain. It was not ideal but she wasn't going to be trapped any longer. "I really should be going though. Gotta get back to Aberdeen."
Deidra looked less than convinced. "You sure, lass?"
"Oh yeah, it's fine. It was lovely to meet you all and I appreciate the hospitality."
Making her goodbyes as quick as she could, she pulled her rain jacket over her head and stomped out through the wood towards the car. She could hear Deidra yelling after her but she pretended to ignore it, determined to get back to civilization. At least the kind that didn't have roving night monsters.
Fate had other plans.
Jamie stopped, gaping in shock at the state of her car. It looked as if a pack of giant dogs had attacked it. Big ones. That could bend and dent metal. The windows were completely smashed, and shards of glass littered the seats which had been ripped to shreds. The top of the car had a massive dent as if something had tried to force a hole through the steel and given up. The windshield was also gone, although a few fragments were covered in thick saliva. Animal urine permeated the inside and the steering wheel had been torn off and discarded about a yard away. The tires were thick ribbons of rubber and the car sat uneasily on its bare rims, a pathetic remnant of its former glory.
Jamie sighed. "You've got to be shitting me."
____________________________________________________________________________
"What do you mean there are no cars?"
Deidra, Donald, and the other townsfolk had not seemed surprised by her car's state nor had they any way to remedy the situation.
"We've no cars, lass. We don't need them."
"Don't need them? Wha... How do you all get to work or travel?"
Donald shrugged. "We all work and live here. No need to go anywhere else."
Jamie was starting to feel panic and rage bubble up inside of her. "I mean, where the fuck am I? Oz?"
Their blank looks seemed to cement her suspicions. She had stumbled upon some sort of cult. That was it. She had stumbled across a remote village of old hippies who had reverted back to pagan worship like their ancestors. And they were going to sacrifice her to their night monster. Since her car wasn't enough.
She was on the verge of hyperventilating when Malcolm, the clean-shaven old man with the knit cap, interjected, "Well, one person has a car."
There were those surreptitious glances again as silence fell upon the bar.
Probably their cult leader. "Who?"
When Jamie asked again, Deidra sighed and said, "The laird."
"The laird?" Definitely a cult.
"Laird Murdoch lives a few miles down the way, close to the loch. He has a car... as well as that empty castle of his."
"Surly brute," Donald muttered under his breath.
Jamie wasn't sure what to make of their reactions. So, maybe Laird Murdoch wasn't some cult leader performing a Midsommar reenactment. Instead, she imagined some old, wealthy dinosaur who was still holding onto his family's ancestral lands or an eccentric millionaire who had bought a castle and was performing some type of Braveheart cosplay. Either way, she needed a car. There was no way she was going to spend another night in this village from the Twilight Zone.
"Let's go see this Laird Murdoch then."
Deidra grimaced. "He's not a friendly man, lass. He keeps to himself and broods in that big, old castle of his. And he hates visitors."
Perfect, Jamie thought. I never should have left Aberdeen.
____________________________________________________________________________
Kane cracked his eyes open at the sound of pounding downstairs. Even the gray rainy morning was too much for him and he winced at the streams of light that assaulted him. Every muscle was aching and every tendon was sore as he rolled over on his giant four-poster bed and tried to ignore the sound of the consistent pounding. His head felt like death warmed over, worse than a whiskey hangover, and a migraine flirted at the edges of his mind.
"Go away!" he bellowed, but he knew they probably couldn't hear him from his chamber. The castle had been built in the thirteenth century.
"Oh, for the love of Christ," he growled as the pounding continued, louder now and at a more insistent rhythm. He threw the blanket off of him and sighed at the dried blood that covered the entire bed as well as his naked body.
The room was no better. Some animal's bones were lying on the floor next to his jeans, and remnants of what he incredulously realized were a car decorated his hearth. What in Christ's name had he done last night?
He was tired of asking himself that question, especially after five hundred years. Every month he went through the horrifying ritual of waking up the morning after the full moon and seeing what havoc he had wreaked. Slaughtered sheep, demolished bedrooms, ransacked farms, and in the beginning, a few poor, unlucky souls. He had learned a lot since then about how to prevent such tragedies but he'd never be able to forgive himself for what he'd done all those years ago. Now he was paying for it. Eternally.
Kane washed his face at the water basin by the hearth and looked at his reflection in the antique mirror. His face was stubbled with a few days' worths of beard and his sea-blue eyes were bloodshot after the lack of sleep. Dry blood caked his large hands and neck, even crusted around his dark chest hair. His dark hair, short but thick, needed a cleaning and a combing. All he wanted was a shower - one of the few modern technologies that he actually embraced - but the pounding downstairs continued like a battering ram.
"I'm coming!" he roared and he could feel how hoarse his voice was from howling all night. At least he didn't have fleas again.
Kane Murdock had been a werewolf for over half a millennium. It was enough to hate himself and his lot, to regret the actions that had led him down this path. He'd been thirty-three when his future bride had caught him with the tavern wench. He barely knew his fiance for she'd come from another clan, but the girl had fallen madly for him the moment she'd laid eyes on him. Something he didn't find out until after she'd caught him fucking the barmaid behind the tavern. His bride had been besotted with him and crushed to find out that the wealthy, devilishly handsome laird of her girlish dreams was actually a philandering cad. To her credit, it was true. Kane had used his good looks to bed almost any woman he wanted and he had had no intention of stopping just because he was married. He was too lusty, too ravenous, and too selfish to give up when the world was full of so many beautiful women. But that had been his undoing.
Sorcha, his future bride, was secretly a witch. And when she found him with another woman just days before their wedding, she had cursed him. He could still remember the words she'd said to him after he had gone through the grueling, earth-shattering transformation for the first time: now you shall be the insatiable beast that you are. He would be a werewolf, immortal and frozen in time, destined to change every full moon until the day he could actually love another woman and she could love him. But after changing into the monster that he was that first night, he'd never allowed himself that chance at redemption. In his bloodthirsty haze as a beast, he had killed one of his tenants, an older man who had been out for a late-night stroll on the moors when Kane had found him and eaten him. Kane had tried to kill himself after that, but the witch's curse disabled him from any harm. She had known that he would want to end his life after committing such a heinous act, and she had made sure that he would have to live with himself and his mistakes for eternity.
Those mistakes followed him as he made his way to the massive foyer. The whole castle was trashed and he vowed to take care of it as soon as his head stopped throbbing.
But first, he had to stop the pounding at the door.
____________________________________________________________________________
"What in Christ's holy name do you want?"
Jamie stifled a gasp when the door finally opened to reveal the sexiest man she had ever met in her life. Built like a quarterback, Laird Murdock was over six feet tall with broad shoulders that rippled with muscle. His chest was thick and strong with a generous smattering of light brown hair that seemed to only highlight the beautiful definition of his pecs and abs. His jaw was like cut marble, hard and strong, but also slightly roguish with heavy stubble. His lips were full and his cheekbones were model-worthy, but his eyes were the main draw. Blue as the Caribbean ocean, so pretty it made her want to sigh like a teenage girl. She practically did. He took her breath away and her mind momentarily blanked as she took her fill of such a towering, delicious piece of man meat.
This was no old man in a purple robe hiding out in his castle as he listened to swing tunes. Or a cringy tech nerd who'd made his millions after selling software and decided to become a Scottish highlander. And he sure as hell didn't look like some cult leader, though if he was Jamie was rethinking her decision to run away. No, this man was like a fairy tale prince plucked out of one of her mom's romance novels, all rippling muscles, and hyper-masculinity. Although the way he was looking at her in return made her feel less like a princess... and more like a porn star.
His towering frame leaned over the threshold as he pulled himself to his full height. She could see his nostrils flare and his eyes twinkle with a heat that made her knees weak. He looked at her like she was filet mignon. Still, he wore no smile. Those beautiful lips were seemingly frozen into a scowl.
Thankfully, Jamie remembered how to speak. "Um, hi. I was just passing through on my way from Aberdeen and I got stuck here last night. Kinda got lost after getting off the highway. Anyway, my car is currently... inoperable and I was told that you were the only one in town with a car."
He blinked at her.
"You-you are Laird Murdock, correct? I'm sorry, I forgot to ask."
His chest seemed to broaden. "I am."
Holy shit, he sounds like Gerard Butler but even sexier. Jamie's thirteen-year-old self momentarily thanked God for hearing such a sound.
"Okay, thought so. I-I hate to ask, but do you have a car? I really need to get back to Aberdeen."
Brief puzzlement crossed his features and he croaked, "What's happened to your car?"
"Well..." Funny story.
"The monster destroyed it, my laird."
Deidra had spoken and Jamie realized that she had forgotten that the sweet woman had accompanied her on this trek.
Something passed over his face. Shame? Guilt? Jamie wasn't sure but his stance changed somewhat and he nodded almost imperceptibly.
So the monster was apparently very normal for the town. Jamie definitely felt like she had fallen through the rabbit hole.
"Aye," he murmured as he suddenly seemed to remember that he was half-naked. Jamie could see the lines of his hip fade beneath his jeans and felt a shiver.
He closed the door very suddenly then, making Jamie jump, and she turned to Deidra in confusion.
"Does that mean he's coming back?"
"Aye, I think he's just going to get dressed. You saw the state of him."
Yeah, don't remind me. She imagined licking his muscles like they were ice cream. "Where are his manners?"
Deidra barely suppressed a chuckle. "Long gone, lass."
Jamie groaned. Just what she needed. She was already over this weird village and its roving night monster that was going to cost her thousands. She really didn't have time for some sexy but surly highland laird.