The Scarlet Deep

  Jetta’s eyes lit. “And how did Mary deal with the vampires?”

  Anne paused, clearly not expecting the question. “She killed them. Then she forbade her people from feeding outside their household staff. There have been no vampire infections since.”

  “Effective,” Rens said.

  “Yes, it was.” Anne shifted her attention to the Dutchman. “Mr. Anker, I notice that you have not shared your rate of infection with the rest of us. Would you mind?” She held up her pencil. “For note-taking purposes, of course.”

  A reluctant smile crossed the man’s lip. “Of course. We have had two hundred forty-three human infections and twenty-six vampire infections. Most of those vampires have living sires. We also contacted Katya’s people about how to treat them. They are being taken care of.”

  It was an alarming rate for such a small country. Murphy had to admit Rens’s participation in the summit wasn’t such a mystery anymore. Almost two dozen immortals infected? It was disproportionally high.

  “And the infected humans?” Anne asked.

  Rens shrugged slowly. “The humans? Most were nothing. Club kids. That sort of thing. Not attached to anyone in particular. They left Amsterdam one way or another. We don’t need the human authorities beginning an investigation.”

  Anne’s pencil froze on her page.

  Note to Tom and Declan, Murphy thought. Restrict travel to the Netherlands for humans under Irish aegis.

  Chapter Twelve

  AFTER THAT EXCHANGE, the meeting wrapped up quickly. Jetta and her entourage were still settling in. Rens and his small staff drifted back to… wherever they were staying. No one seemed to know. Murphy followed Anne into the crisp spring evening.

  “What are you doing the rest of the night?” Murphy asked. “Would you join me for a drink?”

  Her cheeks were pale and her eyes bright again. “I think I’ll go for a swim,” she said. “Then maybe read a bit. I’ll need to transcribe the evening notes for Mary as well.”

  He frowned. “You already took them.”

  “But I need to translate.”

  He nodded. “Ah yes. Tywyll’s mystery language.”

  “You don’t forget much, do you, Mr. Murphy?”

  “Your secrets are safe with me, Dr. O’Dea.”

  She nodded and turned. “Good to know.”

  “Go for a swim with me?” he asked. “I was heading down to the river.”

  Anne cringed. “Surely not, Patrick. The water is filthy.”

  “Far cleaner than it used to be,” he said with a smile. “I was planning to go upriver. The saltwater irritates my skin.”

  Water vampires always tended toward either freshwater or salt, with the vast majority preferring the ocean. But for Murphy, freshwater was his home. Springs and lakes. Rivers and creeks. Any bit of it would do. The ocean was fine… but it wasn’t the same.

  “No, find a pool or a lake or something. The river is…” She shuddered.

  “I hope you don’t share your feelings with your sire.”

  “I don’t. Though he’s as cross about the pollution as any environmentalist. I’ll be fine. Enjoy your swim.”

  She turned to walk toward her driver.

  “Anne, wait.” Murphy caught up with her and put a hand on her arm. “Why are you cross with me?”

  “The posturing last night was a bit much, don’t you think?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Did you enjoy flirting with Daniel and that Viking? Were you trying to make me jealous?”

  Her mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “Yes, you horse’s ass, because every conversation I have is a reaction to you. Egotistical much, Murphy?”

  “Don’t call me Murphy!” He leaned down and spoke in her ear. “And talk to whoever you like, but don’t shut me out when I’m trying to resolve something. Your door was locked long before dawn. I thought we were giving this a go.”

  “Just because you decided something doesn’t mean I agreed to it.” She jerked away, her movements sharp and brittle.

  He narrowed his eyes and watched her walk down the dark street, passing her driver, whom she waved away with a gloved hand.

  Murphy followed at a distance.

  She was angry, yes, but Anne was usually far more mild-tempered, even when she was furious with him. Her steps were long, eating up the cobblestones for two blocks past Terry’s offices, then she turned right onto a larger street. Murphy continued to follow, watching any humans who came too close.

  None did. Most humans subconsciously sensed a predator, and Anne was the picture of predatory that night. Her dark, fitted coat swept shapely calves covered in leather boots. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek chignon at the nape of her neck. Gradually her steps slowed toward calculation. Her movements became smoother. Her breath evened out to the rhythm of her steps, and her body transformed into a singular deadly tool.

  So that’s why she was cross. She needed to hunt.

  Problematic. Especially as close to the edge as she appeared to be.

  Murphy could close his eyes and see her face. Watch the cold light that would slide behind her eyes and the flush that would plump her lips. He’d watched her hunt in the past. He knew her tricks and her lures.

  She slid behind groups of humans, matching her pace to theirs, following at a distance until they turned or ducked into a restaurant or pub. The hour was late and most were heading home, jumping into taxis or ducking into underground stations for the train.

  Anne started following a group of young men who were joking and walking at a leisurely pace. They must have lived nearby, for the three young men turned off the main road and away from the flickering lights and traffic toward a residential area bordering a small park. Murphy hurried to catch up with them before he lost sight of Anne.

  Except when he turned the corner, she was no longer there.

  Nor were the humans.

  His heart began to thump.

  “Anne?”

  He turned and walked into the small park, only to trip over the legs of one of the boys.

  Dammit. She’d always been fast.

  “Anne, stop,” Murphy said, his voice calm and quiet. “Whatever you’re doing, stop right now.”

  A rustling behind him. Murphy dragged the boy out from behind the bush and crouched down to look, but there were no marks on him. He appeared to be sleeping. The park was only a small triangle of shrubs and trees, with three paths that all led to a fountain in the middle. If she was in the park, there weren’t many places to hide.

  “Anne?” He stood and opened his senses, searching for her with his amnis. “Áine, love, don’t do this. You’ll be very angry with yourself tomorrow.”

  He closed his eyes when he felt her behind him. Her cool lips touched the nape of his neck.

  “Go home,” she whispered. “Leave.”

  The push of her amnis flooded him, but he was prepared for it.

  “No,” he said, focusing on his concern for his mate and not on the nearly irresistible compulsion to flee. “I don’t think I will.”

  He spun and tried to trap her, but she’d already jumped back.

  Her lips had curled back, and she bared her fangs. “I told you to leave!”

  “No.”

  The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. Anne wasn’t much of a fighter. She could defend herself when necessary, but she depended on her ability to push vampires to her will more than she used brute strength. Murphy reached for the water trickling from the fountain, dashing it into her eyes and hoping it was enough to jolt his mate out of her bloodlust.

  She reared back with a short gasp, the cold water snapping her back to herself. Murphy held himself very still, watching her as reason returned to her eyes and the predatory edge softened, even if it didn’t quite leave.

  “Patrick?”

  “Are you back?”

  Anne looked around, saw the boy on the grass. “Dammit!” she said, running back into the shadows. She emerged with another young man thrown over her shoulde
r. “Quick,” she said. “Grab the other one. They’re sleeping, but it won’t be for long.”

  “Wanted them awake and frightened when you fed from them?”

  “Lecture me later. Help me now.”

  He gathered the other human and propped him on the bench next to his friend. Then Anne dragged the first boy on the grass over to the same bench and sat him on the ground next to his friends. The boys were already blinking awake as Anne bent down and patted their cheeks.

  “Lads,” she said. “Are you all right?”

  The one on the ground blinked awake first. “ Oi. What the—”

  “Little too much at the pub, eh?” Murphy said, putting on his most fatherly voice, though the young men only looked a few years younger than him. “Do you live close by? Need us to call someone for you?”

  All three were awake and looking around.

  “Oi, Jazz, where is she?”

  “What are you talking ’bout?”

  “The girl. Lush.” He shook his head as Murphy and Anne stepped farther back into the shadows. “Don’t remember exactly.”

  Murphy put his arm around Anne’s shoulders and said, “If you’re close to home, we’ll be going. You boys all right?”

  “Yeah, mate. Thanks for that.” The boy on the ground stood. “Sorry. Yeah, we’re just around the corner. I’ll get them home. Weird night.”

  “Have a good evening and stay safe.”

  “Will do, mate. Thanks.”

  Murphy herded Anne toward the iron gate and back toward their drivers, his hand gripping her upper arm. “Well, Anne love, why don’t we grab that drink after all?” he whispered. “Then you can explain to me back in our room how you got this bloody close to the edge.”

  “Patrick, I just need to feed. I’m f—”

  “I don’t like being lied to, so why don’t you stop before you start?”

  Now that concern was wearing off, he was angry. Blazingly angry. And, he had to admit, more than a little scared.

  Anne was one of the most self-controlled vampires he’d ever met. What was happening to her?

  ANNE’S hunger was burning her from the inside out. She felt as if she could crawl out of her own skin. Hot then cold. Her throat burned, but her stomach threatened nausea. Murphy almost dragged her back to the car. He opened the door and shoved her in the backseat, then he crawled in behind her and barked at the driver.

  “Ozzie!”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “When was the last time you gave blood?”

  “Eh… two weeks ago.”

  Murphy snapped. “Your arm. Now.”

  Without a word, the driver rolled up his sleeve and stuck his arm over the backseat. Murphy hauled Anne into his lap despite her protests.

  “Two weeks is too soon,” Anne said.

  “Have you seen the man? He’s built like an ox. Drink.”

  The scent of Ozzie’s wrist caused her fangs to ache. They hadn’t retracted since the park. She was too hungry.

  “Drink, dammit! You’ve been taking nothing but blood-wine since we’ve been here, for fuck knows what reason. That’s not a full meal. It was never intended to be. Drink, Anne.”

  “I’ve been drinking animal blood…” She turned her face away. “It’s like nothing. It only makes me hungrier.”

  “This comes to an end tonight. You will stop starving yourself.”

  She could hear the fear behind his anger, but she still resisted. “Murphy, I’m too close. Get me a bag.”

  “I don’t have a bag. I’ll hold you. Drink.”

  “Too close.”

  “Drink!”

  Murphy shoved Ozzie’s wrist in her face, and Anne lost control. She struck without a hint of finesse. She felt the human flinch, but he didn’t jerk away. Murphy held her neck, palm against her throat, gently stroking the nape with his thumb as she reveled in the feeding. The human’s blood was like swallowing warm silk. It wrapped around Anne, her amnis awakening.

  For the first time in weeks, her mind was clear. Her senses on alert. Her heart beat. Her blood moved. She felt Murphy’s body beneath her, felt him begin to respond to her energy, to the scent of blood spiking the air.

  “Enough,” he finally said, his voice rough as he pulled her back with his gentle grip.

  Anne forced herself to let go. Ozzie withdrew his arm, and Murphy leaned forward, capturing Anne’s lips with his own, tongue licking at the hot blood that still stained her lips. She groaned into his mouth, even as he banged a fist on the front seat. Anne heard the divider going up and Murphy pushed her back, curling his body over hers in the car, caging her in while the engine rumbled.

  Anne reached up and gripped his hair, pulling him closer as she parted her thighs, eager for the heavy weight of his body over hers.

  “Anne,” he gasped, pulling away. “We need to get back.”

  “No.” She was still hungry. “I want you.”

  He groaned and kissed her again, his tongue curling around her fangs, stroking down each slick length as she shuddered beneath him. His hands tugged at her coat and she arched up, wishing they were alone, wishing the car…

  “Oh bollocks,” she blinked back to reason. “We’re in a car.”

  Murphy dragged his fangs across the hypersensitive skin of her throat. His hand was gripping her thigh where he’d torn the stocking away to reach her bare flesh.

  “I know,” he panted. “Don’t worry, the windows are blacked out.”

  “And I just fed from the driver.”

  “He’ll be fine. You didn’t take too much.”

  He was still breathing against her neck, and each warm breath sent a shiver of excitement through her system. She was primed for him. Aching for it. There was no way he’d be able to ignore her acute arousal. She didn’t want him to.

  “Murphy—”

  A low stream of curses cut her off as Murphy took a deep breath and pulled away from her. “We can’t do this now.”

  “What?”

  “We should head back.” He shifted to the side and knocked on the partition while Anne attempted to straighten her clothes.

  The driver called back, “Yes, boss?”

  “You good to drive, Oz?”

  “I’ll be fine. We’re not going far, and I already drank some juice.”

  “Good man. Get us home.”

  “Is Dr. O’Dea feeling better?”

  Anne wanted to dissolve into the seat. “I’m feeling much better, Ozzie. I appreciate your assistance.”

  “Anytime, miss.”

  “Get us back to Terry’s,” Murphy said as he straightened his tie.

  “Yes, boss.”

  They drove in silence as Anne tried not to think of her earlier actions. She had no excuse. She’d known she was on the edge, and she went out into town. If Murphy hadn’t followed her…

  “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I was not in control of myself earlier. I would have regretted that. I appreciate your intervention.”

  “No more than you did for me countless times, Anne.”

  “Still. I thank you.”

  “At least I could finally be useful.”

  She blinked. “What does that mean?”

  He pulled his lip back and she watched as he deliberately retracted his fangs. “Nothing. I’m out of sorts. Could use a swim is all.”

  “Why did you say that?” She knew he wanted her to drop it, but she was too disturbed by his statement. “‘Finally useful?’ What does that mean?”

  “Anne—”

  “When did I ever imply that I had no use for you, Patrick?”

  He slammed his hand down on the door, and she could hear the leather rip. “You didn’t have to. You’re one of the most bloody self-contained women I know. I’m just glad that for once you needed my help instead of me needing yours. I realize that’s probably very childish or regressive…” He waved a hand. “Fine. I have never claimed to be modern. Now, let’s get you back to Carwyn and Brigid’s room. I know they have extra space.”
r />   Her mouth dropped. “Are you kicking me out of my room. My room? I don’t think so, Murphy.”

  “I fecking hate when you call me Murphy, and you know it!” he roared as they stopped in traffic. “You need immortal blood, Anne. You need blood from someone we trust, because you won’t take it from me, and it’s the only thing I can think of that might keep you going until we figure out what the hell is going on. Your sister is too far away. It could take days to track down your sire, and you need something now. So you’re going to ask Brigid or Carwyn, or I will.”

  She crossed her arms and stared forward. Anne knew what he was thinking. Her body had become so malnourished that the best course would be to take blood from another immortal with richer amnis than even human blood held. Her sire would be ideal, but any blood drawn from a vampire would work. The problem was it created a tie, even between friends. No vampire wanted to create that link with an immortal they didn’t trust.

  “Patrick, you know why I shouldn’t take yours.”

  “Because you want our bloody mate bond to die,” he bit out. “I understand perfectly well, Anne. That’s been made clear. I’ll leave you with Carwyn and Brigid. I’m sure some arrangement can be made to move your things closer to them while we’re in town.”

  “No, that’s not… It’s not what I was thinking.”

  Murphy had said he would wait. He’d said he’d learned patience. Was he giving up so quickly?

  Without a word, he reached over and took her hand. She clutched it with both her own.

  “I don’t want the bond to die,” Anne said. “I just need to be able to trust my own heart. You claim I didn’t need you, but you know that’s not true. It would be so easy to lose myself in you.”

  They said nothing for a long time, and Anne watched the lights of the city zip by. The car windows were dark, but she could see a few people still stumbling home after a night out. Friends laughing. Couples holding hands. She could feel the tentative brush of Murphy’s amnis against her palm where he held her hand securely.

  “Would it be so terrible to lose yourself in me?” he murmured as they neared the house. “Was it so awful before?”