I was worried only once on this trip. When I passed through the TSA and saw someone watching me, I knew he was a vampire at once. Supernaturals on the alert, and I was, can always recognize one another.
Our eyes met. His were red. His fangs dropped as he stared at me. I couldn’t see much of his face, as his hat was pulled low.
He turned away and with vampire speed vanished.
He was able to travel because it was still dark…only 5:00 AM, though my flight wasn’t ‘til 7:00 AM.
What had that been all about? Was this the French vampire Rafael had been worried about—the one who had inquired about my mother?
I was too excited about this trip to think much more about it. No doubt he had been at the airport for another reason, and picked up on me as a supernatural. He saw a witch…stared for a moment, and nothing more to it.
The flight in first class was a dream. I have only once before been on a plane with Aunt Elle when we went to New Orleans for Christmas. I had nearly squealed with delight the entire trip.
In Scotland, I was whirled through customs, helped into a limousine and off we went down the main highway heading for MacLeod.
It didn’t seem very long before we turned off onto a well-traveled country road, and my driver was so wonderfully pleasant, keeping me entertained with conversation.
As we drove, I noticed that the road narrowed and appeared to be scarcely traveled, as we didn’t pass more than a few other vehicles.
The scenery—the farms and pastures danced in rhythm with the song in my head. The Grampian Mountains, obscured by a light mist, rose into the heavens and yes, Scotland spoke to me. It was as though the melody I heard said, “Ye have coom home, child, ye have coom home.”
Was I being fanciful?
In spite of the fact that I am a supernatural, I am not whimsical…well, maybe a little, but those were the words I heard in my head, I was sure of it. It didn’t worry me—quite the opposite.
I was going to have to get to the ‘Witching Wall’ Aunt Elle had told me about, as soon as I could, and satisfy my curiosity.
Within thirty-five minutes we were turning onto a long winding asphalt drive whose sign denoted MacLeod Castle.
We pulled up to the gates about one hundred feet into the driveway and an elderly man stepped out of a small cottage. He nodded at the driver, stared without smiling at me, and moved to an electric box, pressed it and the gates opened wide.
We drove through while I oohed and aahed out loud.
The neat driveway was lined with oaks on either side and as we drew closer, I saw an expanse of the famous (I had read up on the castle) MacLeod Gardens.
I had googled the castle and saw a photograph, and even though I knew what to expect, I sat forward in the back seat of the limo and felt like a child with presents under the tree. I didn’t know where to look first.
Aside from the fact that it was, really was a medieval castle brought into modern times, I would have been impressed had it been in ruins.
My imagination had already run wild after I read about the fifteenth century Highland structure’s history and the lords that had occupied the seat over the years.
The landscaping, as we approached the front stone courtyard, kept my eyes open wider than I thought possible. This was like stepping into a fairy tale.
I stared at the beautiful sandstone castle, then scanned the gardens, then back to the castle before my eyes were captured by the horses in their pastures. I have a passion for horses and as we drove slowly past them, I couldn’t stop the squeal that escaped my lips.
We d
rove by the beautiful stone and dark oak trimmed stables and up to the huge sandstone archway that led to the front doors of the Keep. Holy hell—I was going to enter a Keep! How amazing is that!
I bent my head backwards and stared upward at the majestic castle as my driver came to a stop.
Spring flowers in an array of colors were everywhere, but especially here at the entrance of the Keep. Lush garden beds and topiaries had decorated the lawns we had driven by, but here at the entrance, there were pots and pots of every size filled with flowers and lush greenery and it was mesmerizing. I found it difficult to look away.
Was I really here? Could this amazing thing really be happening to me? Other than being a witch, I haven’t had very many adventures…like, none, zero, zilch. Should I pinch myself?
All the while I felt this warmth reach up from beneath my feet, in the air, all around me, as though telling me ‘welcome home.’
We parked in the courtyard and the driver beat me to it and got the door opened before I jumped out.