Free The MacGregor by Jenny Brigalow

come. He broke into a run.

Chapter 23
    The ride to Sean’s helped Megan’s head to clear. With each unfurling mile she shed the smoke and scents of the Jackal and Hide. It had been fun but it had been disturbing too. She knew, of course, of the plight of her people. The Campbells had done their work well. Hers was a cast-out and alienated clan. But she hadn’t understood before what that really meant.
    Her trips into the city with her aerosols had been a lone protest. A small way of venting the vat of venom that bubbled in her brain.
    How lucky she was, she realised, to have grown up in the protective cocoon of the wild western coast. She thought back to the girl she’d helped, and wondered where she lived. Did she have a Grandad? A mother? A brother? Somehow she doubted it. And she couldn’t help but speculate on how crazy it was that her kind, with all their troubles, still turned on each other. Why didn’t they direct their rage where it belonged? At the feet of the murderous Campbells. It was a knotty question.
    The bike slowed as Douglas dipped around a tight bend, and accelerated as he revved it up to full throttle down a long straight stretch. It was a beautiful night. Her acute hearing could detect the nocturnal sounds over the roar of the engine. Cows coughed in the mist, and a fox screamed in the forest. The scent of pine combined with petrol and the heady scent of deer. Megan’s stomach ached with hunger. For a moment she contemplated stopping Douglas and going on a hunt. But the moon was already sinking behind the mountain range and she decided she would wait. A different kind of hunger throbbed and surged and burned through her body. An appetite that even a fresh kill would not assuage. She was a woman and she needed a mate. And she was consumed with her want.
    They burned over a bridge, slipped off the main road and onto the winding, narrow lanes that led to Sean’s. She peered through her visor with eager eyes. The moonlight glinted on the tumbling stream and washed over the dewy ground. Cobwebs sparkled like diamantes in the bike’s lights and a fox’s eyes flared red. An ancient Mini chugged up the hill towards them. Douglas skimmed by leaving Megan with a vague impression of two laughing, chatting women.
    Finally she spotted the brick house perched on the eastern rise. It was dark, the windows blank stares, except for a small flare of light from the back of the house. Excitement surged like salmon through her veins. He was home. And he must be awake. Maybe he was waiting for her.
    A few yards away from the driveway Megan tapped Douglas on the shoulder. He looked briefly over his shoulder and she pointed at the farmhouse. He nodded and quickly worked through the gears and pulled up in the cover of a copse of trees. The engine died and the world seemed unnaturally quiet. Megan hopped off and pulled her helmet off her head.
    â€˜This it, Megan?’ said Douglas in a muffled voice from behind his helmet.
    She smiled. ‘Yes, thank you so much.’
    He flipped up his visor and grinned at her. ‘So, who is he?’
    Megan was silent, not wanting to lie to Douglas who had been so kind to her, but unwilling to share her secret. It was not exactly taboo to take on mortal mates. But it wasn’t approved of. Many didn’t trust them, and for good reason. Particularly in the tight circles in which she had grown up. And her grandad always said that ‘like should marry like.’ Grandadwould be upset if he knew. But then, she was keeping Douglas’ secret for him. ‘His name is Sean. He’s a mortal.’
    Douglas was still. ‘Megan,’ he said finally, ‘be careful.’
    She nodded, relieved that was all he had to say. ‘He’s really…special, Douglas.’
    And then Douglas let out a small gasp. ‘Oh! So I see,’ he said.
    Megan whipped her head around and spotted the source of Douglas’ amusement. Her eyes