Declan said, “Angie said she had some messages for you. Did you check her desk?”
She left the room just as Declan and Jack began one of their wordless conversations that pissed her off. They all pissed her off. Murphy pissed her off with his kid-glove treatment. She hadn’t spoken to Emily in months. Axel and his little friends could go to hell. Her family wanted her home, but she had refused to go since Ioan’s funeral. Deirdre and Sinead had come to the city the month before. She smiled and nodded and made all the right noises so they would leave her alone. Carwyn… well, he obviously couldn’t be bothered.
Another day. Another night.
She picked up a stack of messages from Angie’s desk with her name on the top and paged through them. Anne had called again. Fecking doctor. She didn’t need to have a deep heart-to-heart with her therapist. She needed to work and she needed to kill someone.
And once again, Carwyn had already beaten her to it.
Fecking Carwyn.
She walked back in the office and began the manifest searches that Tom had listed for her. The one positive about this whole situation was that Lorenzo had been revealed as the source for the drugs that had been pouring into Dublin. He’d made himself quite rich off her streets, as a matter of fact. They were still trying to get a handle on how extensive his connections had been.
Her boss and colleagues thought they had things well in hand. Thought that the problem would drift away now that Lorenzo had been driven out of Ireland.
“Like the snake he is,” she muttered, curling her lip in a dark humor.
Idiots. Despite what Patrick Murphy and the others thought, Brigid knew the murderer hadn’t worked alone. He would have needed someone who knew the city better. Who had contacts and knew what clubs to distribute through. There had to be a local. Human? Vampire? It was her mission to find out.
“Connor!”
“What?” She looked up at Tom, annoyed by the interruption.
“Murphy wants to talk to you.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be right there.”
Another day. Another night.
Another phone call from Deirdre that made Murphy hop to attention. Another “friendly chat” to see how she was doing. He’d ask her if she was sleeping well. He’d offer to listen. To give her time off from work so she could go home.
There was nothing and no one she wanted to see at home.
She nodded through her chat with Murphy, worked until Declan and Jack retired for the morning, then she worked a little more. Anything to keep her from the silent rooms where ghosts haunted her and sleep slipped through her grasp.
Another day. Another night.
Finally, she dragged herself up to her room and collapsed on the bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, images assaulted her—images of Ioan, bloody and tortured in the warehouse by the river. Then images of him from her childhood as they read books in the library. When Brigid finally fell asleep, she dreamed she was beating on a grey metal door, powerless to open it as she heard agonized cries from inside. She dreamt she heard Deirdre weeping, but when she woke, it was her own face that was covered in tears.
Wicklow
June 2010
Carwyn sat up when Deirdre came into the library.
“What do you mean, she’s gone?”
Deirdre’s eyes were wide with terror. “Murphy said that she didn’t come into work tonight. It’s the first night she’s ever missed work. She never misses work. And he says she hasn’t been sleeping. She says she’s fine, but she’s been working all night and day and—”
Carwyn stood and roared, “What the hell is he doing there? Does he have control of that city or not?” He rushed toward the door. “We’re going. Now.”
“Wait. She may just be with friends or—”
“Or she may be in trouble!” He spun around. “She may have stumbled onto something about Ioan’s murder and run off like a lunatic. She may be…”
Dead.
He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t even think it. He had known she was traumatized by Ioan’s death and he’d avoided her. Avoided her grief and rage like a coward. Had foolishly taken comfort in the regular reports that the girl was coping. This wasn’t Murphy’s fault; it was his.
Deirdre whispered, “She has to be all right, Carwyn.”
“Listen.” He took a deep breath and tried to think clearly. “You go to Dublin. You know it better. Murphy—”
“Murphy already has his men searching the city. They all consider her a friend, and they know we’ll be searching as well.”
“Can you think of anywhere out of Dublin that she might go?”
Deirdre frowned. “Anne, maybe? I know they’re close. Anne’s been trying to talk to her. Maybe… if Brigid finally broke down, she might have gone to Anne.”
Carwyn nodded. “Fine. You go look for her with Murphy’s men. I’ll call Galway and see if she’s there.”
“Just go. Travel underground; you’ll get there faster. And bring Anne back. Even if Brigid’s not there, we’ll need her. She’ll come. Brigid needs help, and we haven’t been there for her.”
“You can’t blame yourself.”
Blame me.
Her eyes were hollow. “She’s Ioan’s. She was my responsibility.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Just go.”
Dublin
June 2010
Deirdre raised her hand to push in the door of the warehouse. The scent of her husband’s blood still lingered, and she held in a sob.
Ioan, have I failed her, too?
Murphy’s men had found no trace of Brigid. She had very few places she would go. A pub she liked. A church in Ringsend. The Ha’Penny Bridge at night. She was nowhere. But then Deirdre had found Emily. Had coaxed the awful truth from her, and Deirdre knew with a sinking feeling where she would go.
‘She said she only wanted a bit. Just to sleep. She hadn’t been sleeping well. I—I told her not to, but she wouldn’t listen! I only had a little and I didn’t want her getting anything dangerous. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…’
Deirdre searched the rooms, catching the faint scent in a corner of the basement. She could feel the damp creeping along her skin, but it didn’t mask the scent of Brigid or the harsh sweetness of the heroin.
Her breath caught when she saw her.
Ioan’s precious girl was lying slumped in the corner and the needle lay next to her leg, still bloody at the tip. The rubber strap lay limp in her other hand. Her eyes were partially open and rolled back in her head. Her heartbeat was faint and erratic.
“No,” Deirdre groaned and rushed over. “No, no, no.” She brushed the paraphernalia away from the delicate, wounded girl and lifted her up. Brigid’s breathing was shallow. Her pulse a mere flutter in her chest.
“Brigid!” she screamed and shook her. “Wake up. Wake up, girl. Please.”
She slapped her face; it did nothing. Deirdre slumped to the floor and rocked the small woman in her arms. “No, I can’t. I can’t lose you, too.” She dashed the tears from her eyes as she looked down into the deathly pale face. “I can’t, Brigid! He’d never forgive me.”
Deirdre screamed and tore her hair, remembering the sweat-soaked plea the girl had whispered so many years before.
“No, don’t… Please, don’t ask me. I don’t want to live forever…”
She rocked the girl’s still body back and forth until she heard the first falter of Brigid’s heart. Deirdre’s eyes cleared and she lifted a hand to smooth the hair back from Brigid’s pale forehead. “Forgive me.”
Wicklow
June 2010
Darkness. Fire. A twisting ache in her gut and a burning in her throat.
Burning. Everything was burning.
“Brigid?”
She heard his voice calling from a distance. Was she dreaming? She’d thought she was in hell, but he wouldn’t be there. No, he couldn’t be there. He was good. Pure in a way that she’d never been. The smell of smoke filled her nose
and the fire rippled along her skin, soothing and burning at the same time.
Pain.
It was the consuming thought in her mind.
Burning. Tingling. Snapping tiny bites along her flesh. Stripping bare every nerve with its vicious claws. Pain. Consuming, breath-stealing pain. But she was no longer breathing and suddenly, she knew.
Fire. She was immortal and she had been born into fire. She felt sharp fangs drop in her mouth, piercing her lips, and she tasted her own blood. It was sweet. Not metallic or bitter. Sweet.
Why? She wanted to scream. Why, why, why?
She was in Ioan’s library in Wicklow, and Carwyn was moving toward her, calling, “It’s me.”
But it’s not me, her heart screamed. Stay back!
She silently begged him to stay away. Fire vampires were volatile. They killed those who came close. She couldn’t hurt him. She couldn’t. She tried to breathe. To calm herself. It gave her no relief.
Just then, she heard him start to sing a lullaby and felt the tears roll down her face, sizzling and steaming as they touched her skin. He sang the silly, childish song she’d heard Ioan humming to her as a child. When was that? Had she ever been a child? Had she ever been innocent? She felt the anger well up and the fire started to snap along her body again. She curled into herself, willing him to stay away from the monster she had become.
“Brigid?”
No!
She could feel it snapping to the surface again. There was nothing to protect him from her rage. Nothing to shield him from the outpouring of pain and anger that she felt begin to consume her.
Please, God, she begged. Let me be consumed. Don’t let me hurt anyone else.
He was at the threshold. She could feel him. She could feel his energy reaching out to her. Trying to surround her and comfort her, but she pushed it away.
“Brigid…”
Stay away! She lifted her eyes to meet his. The monster with the brilliant blue eyes stared back at her. Then he gasped, and she realized what he saw.
She was the monster now.
Brigid heard her feral scream erupt a moment before Carwyn’s amnis rushed around her and the mountain crashed down.
He moved effortlessly through the silent earth, using his amnis to protect her from the fire, pushing away the rocks and rubble until he could sense her. He felt the hum of her amnis glowing like a banked fire in the darkness. Carwyn pushed through the soil until he was next to her, stretching his body out with the earth between them. Then he moved his hand, clearing a pocket around her face, but leaving the rest of her smothered in the cool soil. Her hollow eyes flickered open. He couldn’t stop staring. The iris had been charred by her turning, and a deep grey border ringed the brown, creating a mesmerizing stare.
He said nothing. What was there to say?
Finally, she whispered, “It wasn’t you. Was it Deirdre?”
“Yes.”
She said nothing.
“Are you in pain?”
He could see the truth in her eyes, but she shook her head as much as she could. “The pressure feels good against my skin, in a strange way. Did I hurt anyone?”
Carwyn lifted a hand and brushed more soil from her face. He wished he had a wet cloth, or would that be too harsh on her newly turned skin? Her senses would be like a raw nerve now. He didn’t remember his own turning, it had been too long, but he had sired eleven children, though none had been born to fire. He knew how to soothe a vampire of his own element, but what would comfort Brigid now?
“You didn’t hurt anyone. Can you feel your amnis?”
“I understand why you call it a current now. I can feel it washing over me. It’s like water. Only very, very hot. Like the hottest bath you could imagine.”
“I know it hurts, but concentrate on pushing it over your body, if you can.”
She took a breath and closed her eyes. “I ruined his library.”
Carwyn forced a smile, cupping her cheek in his hand. It was scalding hot, but he didn’t move it away. “Technically, I did. Don’t worry, we’ll build another one.”
“Did I burn everything?”
“We’ll build again.”
“Ashes.” He saw tears come to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I saw the room. I left it in ashes.”
“We can build again, Brigid. I promise. Even from ashes.”
He heard her take a breath and could feel her amnis cover her cheek as his hand lay against it. They stared at each other, enveloped by the silent, eternal earth.
“Do you remember last year in the pub when you put your hand on my cheek because it was cold?”
Carwyn smiled. “I remember.”
“It felt nice.”
“It did.”
“I don’t like it when most people touch me, but I don’t mind it when you do. Why do you think that is?”
He felt a burning in his throat and his eyes watered. “I don’t know, but I’m glad.”
“Me, too.”
They were silent again, and Carwyn could feel her amnis growing stronger. Her shield was building even as he watched. So strong. She had always been so strong. So determined. “Were you trying to kill yourself, Brigid?”
She blinked. “I don’t know, really. I just wanted to rest. I only wanted a little bit of peace. And now I’ll never have any.”
Carwyn swallowed back the harsh groan and said, “You must take care of yourself. Please, you must.”
“I know.” She sighed and the dust stirred in the air between them. “I was so tired. I only wanted to rest. Now I’m tired and hungry.”
He bit back a growl when he saw the fangs fall in her mouth. He would feed her if she asked. He wanted her to ask, even though he knew it wasn’t wise. He needed to get her blood soon, and a lot of it. Hopefully, Deirdre had made arrangements.
“We need to get you blood, and we need to dig out of this mountain.”
“I’m hoping you can do the digging part, because I’ve no idea how.”
He smiled. “I do. Why don’t… Why don’t you just let me take care of you for a bit?”
Brigid blinked her eyes again, watching him, as Carwyn felt the shifting in his heart.
He couldn’t solve the ills of the world. He couldn’t bring his son back to life, or heal his daughter’s grief. And he knew he couldn’t fix Brigid Connor, either. Not really. But he could help her. This young woman who had lived too much in her short life. He could help her take care of herself. Even if it was just for a while.
“Will you let me, Brigid?” Please.
Her eyebrows furrowed together. He could see the fear behind her eyes, the instinctive caution. Slowly, she nodded and Carwyn let out a breath. He cleared more room around her until they were huddled together in the ruins of the library. Then he stripped off his shirt and covered her. Brigid flinched when the cloth touched her sensitive skin, but he saw her force herself to relax.
Carwyn crouched down and lifted her in his arms, careful to make sure she was covered. Her skin was still burning hot as he sent out his energy to move the earth in front of them, slowly clearing a path out of the mountain. After a moment, he could hear movement as they broke through the rocks and roots, making their way to the surface. Deirdre called out, but he said nothing, conscious of Brigid’s newly keen hearing.
“Just keep your eyes closed, love. You don’t have to see or talk to anyone right now if you don’t want to.”
“Is everyone out there? I can smell them. Smell the humans.” A low snarl ripped from her throat, but her voice was desperate. “Don’t let me hurt anyone!”
“I won’t.” He clutched her tighter and felt the bite of her burning skin. “There’s quite a few out there. They were trying to keep the other houses from burning.”
“Oh, God!”
“Shhh,” he whispered. “Remember, we’ll build again. No one was hurt. Just wood and stone, Brigid.”
“I’m a monster.”
“No, you’re not.”
He took dee
p breaths, hoping she could mirror his movements. Her arms were wrapped around him and one hand lay over his heart. Carwyn gritted his teeth when he felt the blistering heat burn his skin, but said nothing. The outer crust of the mountain crumbled before him, and he pushed his way through, still holding tightly as he saw familiar faces.
“All humans,” he roared, “get back now!”
His voice must have thundered in her ears because Brigid cringed and tried to escape his arms. He held her even more tightly and felt the bite of her fangs in his shoulder. He swallowed the groan. Deirdre’s worried eyes met his, but he shook his head and she remained silent.
“She needs blood,” he said roughly.
The humans fled and Carwyn searched for Anne’s face. She had followed him from Galway and he was more grateful than ever for the caring and sensitive water vampire. Anne nodded in understanding and he saw her order Deirdre away as one of Ioan’s children ushered them to a barn where Carwyn could hear cattle lowing. The other vampires on the farm looked on with wary eyes as the fire flickered along Brigid’s neck.
“Everyone’s looking at me, aren’t they?” she whispered.
“Just hold on to me, Brigid.” Her burning hands seared him again, but Carwyn held strong. “I’ve got you. Don’t let go.”
Book Two: Fire
You came near and stood at the foot of the mountain
while it blazed with fire to the very heavens,
With black clouds and deep darkness.
Deuteronomy 4:11
Chapter Twelve
Galway
August 2010
Brigid heard a crash down the hall as the ground shook when Carwyn and Deirdre started arguing again. Anne cocked an eyebrow and moved another chess piece, but didn’t say a word.
Deirdre yelled, “Why don’t you call Gio?”
“Gio is on the other side of the world. You expect him to leave Beatrice in China to come here and help her? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why does she need to leave at all?”