Page 11 of Bad Luck Vampire

Marguerite’s gaze shot back to her with realization, and then she gave a small laugh. “Sorry. That’s a family joke, dear. Alasdair and Colle’s mother is a Notte and their father is a MacKenzie, so actually they’re Notte-MacKenzies.”

Sophie nodded, but didn’t really understand the joke. Still, of the two names, she thought MacKenzie fit better since she’d noted a slight Scottish burr when the two men had spoken. Sophie loved Scottish accents. She loved everything Scottish and hoped to visit there someday. Her favorite movies were all set in Scotland too, from the animated Brave to the dramatic Braveheart and thrilling Highlander and so on. Put someone with a Scottish accent in the movie and she was down for it.

Perhaps that was why she was so oddly attracted to Alasdair, Sophie thought. He was Scottish and she loved his accent. Of course, he hadn’t said a word to her, but his brother Colle had. She supposed that it would make more sense to be attracted to Colle, who had been laying the compliments on thick. But she wasn’t. She’d recognized Colle’s chatter as practiced charm and empty words and hadn’t been impressed. It was probably the same deal with Tybo and why she wasn’t attracted to him either. While he’d helped her out of a sticky situation and was charming and funny, she suspected he was a player, just out for fun. Alasdair, on the other hand...

Sophie continued to peer at the flower-covered arch on the dais and wondered if she’d ever marry. She’d come close three times now. Her first love had given her a promise ring, not an engagement ring, but then they’d both been teenagers in high school at the time. However, she had been properly engaged twice now as an adult. Unfortunately, her high school sweetheart and both of her fiancés had been in terrible accidents that had brought an end to her dreams of having a husband and family of her own. While Bobby had joked that she was cursed, she was half-afraid that the universe was trying to tell her something. Or she was cursed. Which meant it was probably better for her to date guys like Tybo and Colle rather than the Alasdairs of the world who she might actually get interested in. She’d had enough heartbreak in her life and really didn’t think she could bear any more.

Four

“I need to woo Sophie,” Alasdair growled as he and his brother finally made their way out of the tent and into the darkening night. The sun was setting. It would be full dark soon.

“Aye.” Colle nodded in agreement.

“But I’m no’ guid at wooing,” Alasdair said fretfully.

“Yer Scottish is comin’ out. It only comes out nowadays when yer upset or anxious,” Colle said, his own accent thickening.

“Well, yer Scottish is comin’ out too,” Alasdair pointed out with irritation.

“Because yer upset, so I’m upset fer ye,” Colle said with exasperation, and then paused, took a deep, calming breath, and said soothingly, “It’s perfectly understandable. Ye’ve just met yer life mate, and now are frettin’ o’er how to convince her to be yours. But ’twill be fine. I’ll help ye woo her.”

“The whelp’s found his life mate?”

Alasdair stiffened at those words, and then turned slowly to find four men standing behind him. His uncle Connor, and his great-uncles Ludan, Inan, and Odart. All four men were at least two hundred years older than them and still considered him and Colle wet behind the ears. They were also all rogue hunters in Scotland and tended to hang around together when not on the job, which meant they hadn’t really changed with the times. They remained the uncivilized barbarians of their eras. He wasn’t surprised to see that each of them wore a short dress jacket, kilt, and sporran, or that each had a large plastic drinking glass full of ale in hand. He was only surprised they hadn’t brought their own steins for their drinks.

“Well?” Connor asked impatiently. “Did I hear right? Allie’s found his life mate?”

Alasdair winced at the childish nickname that only his uncles insisted on still using.

“Aye, Alasdair has met his life mate,” Colle said, emphasizing the full name.

“Damn,” Odart breathed, turning his attention to Alasdair. “Ye’re a lucky bastard, ye are.”

“Aye,” Inan agreed on a sigh, and then shook his head. “’Tis no’ fair, though. We’re older. We should be meetin’ ours first.”

“Hell, if life were fair we’d ha’e met ours ere both their grandda’ Caillen or at least their da’ Gillie found their women,” Ludan pointed out.

“Aye, but ye should ken by now that life is no’ fair,” Connor said with a shrug, the now sounding more like new.

All four men nodded and grunted in glum agreement to that, and then Connor shook off his malaise and asked abruptly, “So, if the lad’s found his life mate, why are the two o’ ye out here looking glum as guppies?”

“Because he’s concerned about wooing her,” Colle explained.

“Why the devil would he worry about that?” Ludan asked with obvious surprise.

“Because if he messes up, he could lose her. Forever,” Colle pointed out, his tone turning a tad dry. “Just because they’re life mates doesn’t mean she’ll agree to be one.”

“Oh, aye,” Odart muttered, scowling now as well.

“Nay, no’ ‘oh aye,’” Connor said with exasperation to the other man, and then turned to Alasdair and added, “Stop being a numptie. Ye’re no’ alone in this. Ye’ve got family. We’ll help ye claim yer lass, lad.”

“Aye, we’ll help ye woo her,” Inan said, looking pleased at the idea.

Alasdair managed to control his expression to hide his alarm at this announcement. But inside he was cursing up a blue streak. He couldn’t think of anything worse than his uncles “helping” him woo Sophie, and was quite sure their idea of helping would scare Sophie off. Alasdair groaned inwardly at his bad luck in meeting a possible life mate when his uncles were here, which, as it happened, was the first time the bastards had ever set foot in North America.

“Buck up, lad,” Connor said, with a comradely blow to his arm that would have knocked Alasdair over if he hadn’t known his uncle so well and been prepared for the move. “We’ll ha’e yer lass in yer arms in no time.”

“Aye, we will,” Inan agreed, giving him a slug as well. “With us helpin’, the two o’ ye will be standing before the priest ere ye can say ‘Foos yer doos.’”

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