Read Kilting Me Softly: 1 for Free Online Page B

to you. This is gonna smart.”
    Sweet Jesus, he was going to pull the dagger out. “Ciaran—no!”
    Ciaran McCade put his booted foot on his brother’s side and used his body weight as leverage to pull the blade free. Blood gushed from the wound, staining the gray sheets deep crimson. The ceiling spun like a top and he was powerless to stop it, weakened instantly by the rapid blood loss.
    “Don’t worry, Connie. I only want to taste her.”
    “Ciar, no. Don’t you lay a hand on her. Ciar!” His mind reached for the last image it could hold, the view of Ciaran’s backside as he disappeared down the stairs, leaving him to bleed to death and Morgan in the path of a madman.
     
    Dazed, Morgan walked the road back to the inn. The night was bitter cold, the woolen bulk of her coat failing to keep the shivers at bay. Weeping, she took in the beautiful land that surrounded her in the hopes that its tranquil beauty might soothe her ragged nerves. Everything was either green or rocky. Handfuls of grass dotted the terrain here and there and the hills were mild and few. Notably absent were the sounds of city life. No traffic, noisy crowds or construction. Only pristine silence. The circumstances of her life had taken her all over the United Kingdom. Scotland, she admitted to herself, was her favorite.
    Nevertheless, she could hardly enjoy the view. Her shoes felt as though they’d been put on backward, so powerful was the urge to turn around and go back to the lonely house on the hill, to the man who lay dying by her hand. To the man who’d let down his guard and trusted her. A man whose taste still lingered on her lips.
    He had a brother, a twin of all things. What were the odds that twins would cross paths with another pair of twins in such circumstances?
    How could the visions be wrong? Maybe there had been no visions. Maybe she’d gone genuinely insane. But if that were true, how in the world would she have known who she was looking for? Where he’d gone?
    No. She wasn’t crazy. That was too many coincidences for one lifetime. If Conall and Ciaran McCade were twins, that meant she’d stumbled upon Conall and not Ciaran as she’d assumed. Accused the wrong brother of murder. Tried to kill an innocent man.
    Regardless, she was in over her head. In an instant, her world had been turned on its head and now she couldn’t think straight.
    Where was Ciaran McCade?
    After almost an hour of walking, the rooftop of the inn appeared in the near distance. Surveying the rural landscape, she decided to cut through a corner of the woods and shorten her route. But it was not without internal dissension. Her mother, if she were here, would disapprove with notable hysteria. It was understandable. Brenda Keevy already lost one of her babies and she didn’t want to lose the other.
    This time, she had a good excuse. The deer carcass in the road. She realized in hindsight the dead animal had been like an omen, foreshadowing the horror to come. With an arrow to her heart, she recalled how Conall had put his arm out to protect her from hitting the dash as he steered his truck around the carcass. This wasn’t something a savage killer would do. She could think of him as Conall now, because unless he’d stolen his brother’s ID, he was certainly not Ciaran. No one was that good of an actor.
    Lord, she was tired. From her scalp to her toes, her body throbbed. The distance she had traveled was so far. Now all she wanted was to get to her room, crawl into bed and wither away. But first a shower and a good cry.
    Then she would have to make a decision. The hardest decision of her life. Would she notify the authorities about Conall or not?
    Hushing her mother’s repeated admonitions reverberating in her head, she entered the small wooded area. Instantly, the night grew darker and the moon, her faithful escort in the sky, became masked from view. A rustle in the trees blew overheard and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
    She was