He stared into the mirror over the dresser in his room, his right hand covering the delicate outline burned into his chest. Angry red bands wrapped around his shoulders where her arms had lain. The scars were still bright, though the skin was no longer blistered. How long would it take to heal?
Months? Years? His fingers traced the lines that lay over his heart.
A strange part of him treasured the evidence of her. After a thousand years of seeing the same reflection, Brigid’s hand had marked him. Changed him. And in the back of his mind he knew that, even when the scars healed, he would never be the same.
A knock came, quickly followed by the door bursting open. Tavish stomped in with a pile of towels.
“Here.”
“Thanks for knocking.” Carwyn reached over and pulled on a garish shirt he hoped would make Brigid roll her eyes.
“You’re welcome.”
“What were you and Cathy fighting about earlier?”
“Couldn’t you hear?”
“I was distracted.”
Tavish only snorted and muttered something under his breath.
Carwyn cocked an eyebrow. “What was that?”
The surly vampire looked up with what could almost be considered a smile.
On a bulldog.
“I said I can’t imagine what has been distracting you… Father.”
“I’ve been contemplating the new breeding program you wrote me about for the cattle.”
Tavish’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“No, not really.” He threw a wadded towel at him. “No one is as excited about cow genetics are you are.”
An almost-wistful look crossed Tavish’s lined face. “Ioan was.”
Carwyn smiled. No, he wasn’t. But his oldest son had been interested in any subject that any of his siblings was passionate about, from Highland Cattle to rainforest conservation to homeless children.
Carwyn nodded. “Did you get that article I sent a few months ago? He had it marked on his desk for you.”
“I did.” The gruff vampire cleared his throat. “Thanks. And Cathy and I were arguing about the girl.”
“Who, Brigid?”
“No, the other new vampire you follow around.”
“Shut it.”
“Fine. I’m not one to pry. I’ll only say that it’s long overdue.”
Carwyn frowned. “Nothing is going on. And even if it was, this is coming from you? The most confirmed bachelor I’ve ever met?”
Tavish rolled his eyes. “I don’t like women. You do. You should have one. It would probably be a civilizing influence. And I actually… like the girl.”
“You do?”
“I do. She’s not frivolous.”
Carwyn clapped Tavish on the shoulder. “Stop with the relentless flattery, son. I doubt she’s interested in a decrepit vampire such as yourself.”
Tavish crossed his arms. “Ha. She’s smart and as long as she doesn’t kill herself or anyone else, I don’t mind having her around.”
Carwyn was speechless. That was, perhaps, the nicest thing he’d ever heard his youngest child say about… anyone. Ever. Carwyn had saved Max from the battlefields of France during the First World War, not realizing that the young man had a twin. When he’d given in to Max’s wishes to visit his ancestral home twenty years later, he’d had no idea that Tavish would storm after them into the night, calling his brother’s name as if linked by some eternal and unbreakable bond.
Tavish must have seen the look on his face. “What are you getting maudlin about?”
“You and Max. Two children could never be more different, and yet you care so deeply for each other.”
“I’d like him better if he hadn’t waited twenty years to come home. He left me with all the damn work on this place and I knew he wasn’t dead. Lazy arse. And I’d like him even more if he hadn’t married the American harpy.”
Carwyn gave him a rueful smile. “He’s happy.”
Tavish’s face softened almost immediately. “Aye, he is. She makes him very happy. It’d be good to see another as happy, if you catch my meaning.”
Castle Mackenzie, Scotland
November 2010
‘We’re going to our home in South America. She’s devastated, Father. More than I’ve ever seen before. Since she’s turned, she can’t see any of her human family. She cannot see Benjamin. I’m asking for your help. I cannot watch her descend into despair like this. I cannot. She needs you, my friend. We both do.’
Carwyn clutched the letter that had finally reached him from China. He’d read it three times, but the contents never seemed to change.
Beatrice De Novo’s father, whom they had searched the world for, was dead.
The book, the manuscript that Lorenzo had been looking for, was gone, taken back by the monster who had torn his family in two. Had Ioan known of the book, somehow? It contained a mysterious formula purported to be the Elixir of Life, but there were more questions than answers in its discovery. Had this been what Ioan had been tortured for? So many of the answers they sought had died with Ioan and now, Stephen De Novo. But… there was an elixir. An elixir for humans that a vampire wanted. It had to be connected somehow.
Beatrice, like Brigid, was a vampire. Her father, Stephen, had sired her only weeks before he had been murdered by the same scum who killed Ioan.
Carwyn’s head fell in his hands. His friend had lost her father and her sire.
‘She needs you, my friend. We both do.’
Giovanni Vecchio, the immortal Carwyn had called on so many times to protect his family or help a friend, asked him to come to comfort. To counsel. Carwyn sat on the edge of his bed and looked at the shaggy face of the wolfhound puppy who watched him. He took a deep breath and ran a rough hand though the scruff at the dog’s chin.
“I have to go, Madoc.”
The dog only offered a whine.
“I know. I won’t make you go on the boat. Will you stay here? Keep an eye on things?” On her.
Brigid was stronger every day, and so was his fascination with the young vampire. Carwyn took a deep breath and a mental step back. He knew he needed distance. He had become infatuated with the girl, and he was coming to understand what Anne had been trying to say to him weeks ago. His reasons for staying were selfish.
He needed to leave.
His hand rubbed over the scar over his heart. Carwyn set the letter on the dressing table before he stood and opened the door. He paused on the stairs and caught the tail end of a conversation Brigid was having on the phone in the downstairs library.
“…I’d say no more than a year.”
There was a pause as she let the other person talk.
“No, I’m doing quite well.” Another pause. “Yes, Cathy Mackenzie from Edinburgh.” A low laugh. “No, Murphy, she’s not trying to get me to stay. I think one fire vampire per city is enough, don’t you?”
Murphy. Carwyn smothered the low growl and continued walking.
“Don’t tell me you’ve found someone to replace me already!” He could hear the smile in her voice. She was teasing the water vampire over the phone line. Friendly and familiar, with none of the awkwardness she often had in his presence.
“I’m grateful. No, I am. You don’t have to do that, but I won’t lie, I miss working. I hope… I just hope I can be the asset that you need.”
She was grateful? His Brigid was grateful to the upstart Dubliner? Didn’t she have any idea how valuable she was? Murphy should be thanking his lucky stars and all the saints that Brigid was willing to come back to the city that had so many unpleasant associations. With her skills, connections, and elemental ability, Brigid Connor could have had her pick of new beginnings. Terry and Gemma would love to snatch her for their organization in London. His allies in New York had long sought a more permanent connection with his clan. Not to mention all the people who owed him or Ioan favors. If Brigid had held a special status as a human, she had no idea how valuable and sought after she would be as a rare and
well-connected fire vampire.
But Brigid was grateful to Murphy. It stuck in his throat.
“I need to go. It was great talking to you. And say hi to Angie and Tom. Declan, too.” Another pause. “No, of course not Jack. Tell that arse he better invest in some fireproof pants.”
Carwyn grinned. There she was. He saw the expected scowl when he walked into the library and she turned to look at him. Brigid lifted her hand in a small wave and turned back around.
“No… no, Murphy, I really need to go.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “Okay. Okay. Bye.”
He gave her a moment to collect herself. He could feel her hot energy spike as he came in the room, but he could also feel the waves of amnis that emanated from her begin to smooth and even out. Finally, she turned and leaned against the back of the sofa.
“You look serious,” she said.
Carwyn closed the oak door and leaned against it. “I have to go.”
She only blinked. “Where?”
“South America.”
Brigid was frozen for only a moment before she spoke again. Her energy was heating up again, but not to an alarming level. “Is there anything wrong with Isabel and Gus?”
“No, it’s my friends. Do you remember my friend, Giovanni? The fire vampire? His mate, Beatrice… they’re on their way to South American now. She turned when she was in China and her sire—who was her human father, too—was killed shortly after.”
He could see her eyes furrow in sympathy. “I’m so sorry. That’s horrible.”
“Lorenzo did it.”
Her eyes flared and he saw smoke rising at her collar. He rushed over and put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them and willing her to remain calm. “Calm, Brigid. Calm.”
She took a deep breath and the smell of smoke dissipated. “Did they kill him?”
“No. He escaped with the book Stephen—B’s father—had stolen from him. It was related to blood alchemy. Related to what Ioan was looking for, I think.”
He could see a trace of tears in the corner of her eye before she blinked them away. “Well, you need to go, then. Go and help them find Lorenzo and this book. It’s what Ioan would’ve wanted.”
Carwyn couldn’t seem to lift his hands from her shoulders. The edge of his thumb rested against the soft skin of her neck and he could hear the low thump of her heart as her blood churned. He felt as if he would be ripping himself in two to leave her.
“I said I would help you, Brigid.”
She whispered, “I know.”
He stepped even closer and leaned down. Her forehead was a whisper away from his lips. “I said… you could hold on to me.”
A crooked smile lifted the corner of her mouth and she looked up. “I’m a big girl, Carwyn.”
A reluctant smile came to his lips. “No, you’re not. You’re tiny.”
“Careful, I’ll shock ya.” She lifted her hands and placed them over his as they rested on her shoulders.
He gave a rueful laugh. “You always do.”
Carwyn couldn’t look away. Neither, it seemed, could Brigid. Her voice was a whisper when she finally spoke. “I know it’s not on the way, but can you look in on things in Dublin before you leave? Check on the investigation. I’ve talked to Murphy on the phone, but he’ll tell you things he won’t tell me, and—”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ll go by his office.”
“There’s still a local connection we haven’t found. I know—I know they don’t believe me. They think it ended when Lorenzo left Dublin, and I don’t want them to lose the trace of any leads while I’m out here. I just know—”
“Brigid.”
She took a deep breath and he could smell the smoky-sweet scent of her. “Yes?”
I’ll miss you. More than I should. Do you feel this? Is it the same for you? Or am I some great hulking brute of a male who could never—should never…
His thumbs stroked along the skin at her collar. “I’ll look into things in Dublin. Don’t worry.”
She took a breath and held it. “You should go. You can make Glasgow tonight if you leave now.”
“I know.” And yet, he couldn’t seem to step away. She was so small and so strong. It was like tightly coiled steel held up her limbs. Resisting the urge to wrap his arms around her, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the burning skin on her forehead. He closed his eyes and held his lips there, feeling the burn and the sharp bite of her fingernails as they dug into his hands.
She whispered. “You should go.”
Finally, he drew away and lifted his hands from her. He took one step back. Then another. Then he turned and strode toward the door.
“Carwyn?”
He whirled around. “Yes?”
Brigid gave him a cautious smile. “Take care of yourself.”
He forced a smile, and his heart gave a quiet thump. “I will.”
Chapter Fourteen
Castle Mackenzie
January 2011
Nights in the Scottish highlands were cool and damp. They were also long. Brigid grinned as she turned and twisted her hands, letting the ball of fire roll down one arm and hover over the palm of her hand before she tossed it into the other and let her amnis move it up the other arm. Her energy pulsed and flowed along her skin, shielding and feeding her all at the same time.
Forget drugs, manipulating fire was the most intoxicating high she’d ever experienced.
“Good,” Cathy said. “Now throw it. Far. Push it away from you and over the lake. You’re going to have to channel a lot of energy from other parts of your body to get it that far, but I think you can do it.”
“Okay.” She closed her eyes and felt the tickling amnis flowing up from her legs. She was rooted to the earth and her energy flowed up. Up. Building and rising until she could feel it nudging her arms out from her body. Her fangs grew long as her blood pulsed. Then with one last push of her mind, she imagined the fireball flying out of her hands and over the lake.
And the minute she thought it, it happened. She held the ball, hovering over the water where its red glow illuminated the meadow surrounding them.
“Good! That’s excellent, Brigid. You’re a very fast learner.”
Anne looked up from where she was sitting at the lake’s edge. “It’s so pretty. Your fire has the prettiest colors, Brigid. There’s almost a greenish hue mixed in with all the red and gold. It’s like an opal.”
The water was freezing, but Anne didn’t mind. The water vampire leaned back and pulled her skirt up farther, dipping her legs into the water and lying back in the tall grass as she looked up into the sky.
“Anne,” Brigid called, “you look like a selkie. Are you sure you’re not some magical creature?”
Just then, Anne lifted a delicate hand, and a spear of water shot up from the lake and swirled around the fire that Brigid had thrown. It split into sparkling tendrils and surrounded the glowing ball until Brigid narrowed her eyes and made the fire explode out. It shattered into sparks that she let drift and simmer into the cold, dark water as Anne and Cathy laughed.
“Show off!” Anne yelled, but she could tell her friend was pleased with her. Everyone was pleased. They were impressed. For the first time in her life, Brigid felt confident and strong. Carwyn had been right. There were more than a few benefits to this whole immortal package.
As soon as she thought it, a wave of exhaustion took over and she swayed a little.
Cathy chuckled. “Whoa there, I think we better get you back to your room.”
“No,” she murmured, even though she could feel the heaviness begin to descend. “It’s still dark.”
“It is, but you know how long the nights are in winter. Your body doesn’t care. You’re young; it still wants you to get in those twelve hours.”
“Come on.” Anne rose from the lake’s edge and grabbed one of Brigid’s arms. Cathy grabbed her other one and they helped her up to her room. Brigid was careful to make sure her door was securely bolted before she went to lie do
wn in the feather bed that smelled like lavender and lemon.
Sleep.
As her eyes flickered closed, she smiled. The best thing about being a vampire? It wasn’t not needing to breathe or night vision. It was sleep. Vampire sleep, quite simply, kicked ass. No dreams. No nightmares. Nothing interrupted the sweet oblivion of rest. So far, it was her favorite thing about immortality. With a soft sigh, she let the blissful exhaustion take her.
Her eyes flickered open hours later. She glanced at the clock on the wall, then at her body, which still lay in the same position as the night before. For a few minutes, she enjoyed the utter silence of the castle and thought about the previous months. Peaceful. It was the most peace she’d ever felt, despite the loud arguments that filled the hall. Castle Mackenzie was a happy and cheerful place, full of laughter and love. Max was the prankster. Tavish the straight man. And Cathy was the live wire that everyone reacted to.
Her rooms were in their own wing. Part of that was probably because everyone liked their privacy, though she’d certainly had to become accustomed to hearing Cathy and Max going at it on a regular basis. No vampire hearing was going to miss that; Cathy was loud. But Brigid’s rooms, for the most part, were isolated. Tavish had some small burrow in the basement where he huddled, and Anne had taken one of the lavish guest rooms, leaving Brigid in the south tower by herself.
She knew that, partly, it was a safety measure. On the off chance that she exploded, she didn’t want to take anyone with her. Though, from what Deirdre had said, she’d exploded when she first woke up and hadn’t left a mark on herself. They were still trying to figure that one out.
She ran a hand over the short crop of hair that covered her skull. Cathy told her she looked like a pixie. Anne said she looked like Audrey Hepburn. Brigid thought she was a little closer to a Sinead O’Connor look-alike with funky eyes. She got out of bed and dressed in the leggings and T-shirt she wore for practice. She’d learned her lesson about wearing loose clothing the first night and had the smudged burns to prove it.