Building From Ashes

  “Yes, it is. How do you stand it?”

  She winked. “Well, I’ve been known to take a nip now and then from a human. Don’t tell Father.”

  “Oh really?” She smiled, feeling like she and Deirdre were sharing girlhood secrets. “He knows I don’t drink animal blood as a rule. Doesn’t seem to bother him.”

  “He’s not judgmental.” Deirdre paused. “Plus, after all this time, he’s probably curious what your blood will taste like when he drinks from you.”

  Brigid almost snorted the pig’s blood through her nose. “W—what?”

  A wicked grin crossed her sire’s face. “Well now, it looks like Cathy and Anne didn’t get to have all the fun with the new girl. Brigid, my dear, it’s time for an entirely different kind of ‘special talk.’”

  She couldn’t decide what was making her skin heat. Embarrassment or curiosity. Probably both.

  After a few more hours having her ears scorched by far more than she ever wanted to know about vampire sex and mating habits, Brigid was back at The Abbey, the club where Jack had been attacked. It remained open, more as a place to gather information than anything else. Over the previous three months, it had become the vampire ‘place to be seen and drink’ so it had attracted a large immortal clientele, as well as humans who liked to be bitten. A win for everyone. Especially the club owners, who were turning an even larger portion of their earnings over to Murphy.

  She sat, bored, watching the stupid and the desperate. Many of the humans wore the hollow eyes of those looking for oblivion, so much like the aching girl she had been, it made Brigid want to weep. When she thought about her life seven years before, she wanted to wring her own neck.

  What did she think she was running from? As painful as reliving and working through her abuse had been—still was—she had come to a place of peace that the human Brigid never could have imagined.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by Jack, who had come back to the table looking flushed and evil.

  Brigid frowned. “I don’t particularly like you, Jack, but I’d miss you if you lost your mind. Cut it out, will you?”

  He only shrugged. “It’s not like I haven’t lived past my allotted time anyway, Connor. If the good Lord decides to take me for enjoying the neck of a plump young thing… well, it’s been a good run.”

  “Idiot.”

  “Prude.”

  “Lot you know.”

  “Brigid, your man is a priest. If that isn’t a recipe for sexual frustration, I don’t know what is.”

  She fell silent, thinking about Deirdre’s visit. And Istanbul. And dangerous places she couldn’t roam.

  “Hey.” Jack tugged on her arm. “I’m just teasing you, Brigid. And don’t get that sad, weepy look. Your man’s one of the most powerful vamps I’ve ever met. And he’s a tricky one. He’ll be fine.”

  “Tricky?” She frowned, as Jack leaned back with a lazy smile and spread his arms across the back of the booth. “Why do you say that?” Brigid thought Carwyn was one of the most straightforward people she’d ever met.

  “Think about it. He’s terribly clever. Comes across as a very jovial chap, the Father does. Crazy Hawaiian shirts and loud laugh. The life of the party and everyone’s favorite friend.” A keen glint came to Jack’s eye. “But push him past that joking manner and he’s rather unpredictable. A thousand years old, after all. In our young corner of the world, that’s something. I’ve seen him fight.” Brigid looked at him and he gave a slow nod. “Once. And I learned a valuable lesson.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  He smiled slowly. “Always let your enemies underestimate you.”

  “He won?” A smile flicked over her face. “Of course he won.”

  Jack chuckled. “Never seen a dozen Frenchmen so surprised.”

  Just then, a long sweep of hair caught her attention. A broad shoulder peeked from the shadows in the corner of the club.

  “Jack.” Brigid nudged him. “I think that’s someone we know.”

  The other vampire threw back the pint he’d ordered. It was warm, but immortals tended not to like cold beer anyway. “Oh aye,” Jack murmured. “Hello, pretty boy. We’ve been looking for you.”

  It was, undoubtedly, Axel. Emily’s ex-boyfriend and former drug dealer had disappeared for months. Brigid didn’t even know if he’d stayed in Dublin. Emily claimed to have nothing to do with him since rehab, and Jack had been frustrated, since he thought Axel had something to do with whoever was shipping drugs into Dublin. While the heroin problem seemed to be tapering off, the whispers about the new “vampire drug” were growing louder.

  Brigid still had her doubts whether he had the brains to mastermind an operation, which had gone undetected under Murphy’s nose, but his disappearance, and now reappearance, was certainly speaking in favor of Axel being more than just a pretty face and a long set of fangs.

  “You want to grab him?” she asked Jack.

  “Yes. I don’t think he’s noticed me. Grab the human he just sent to the bar and meet me in the alley. I have a few questions for our dear Dane.”

  “He’s Norwegian.” She slid out from the booth eagerly. Finally, the night had become more interesting.

  She waded through the sea of dancers, using the crowd to hide her approach from the girl who stood twitching at the bar. User. The girl looked like she needed a fix. Her balance was uneven and Brigid could see the beginning of ribs showing though the skintight black dress she wore. Her light brown hair hung limp at her shoulders. Brigid sidled up to her, glancing over her shoulder to see Jack approaching Axel from the far side of the club.

  No scenes. Just a friendly chat with Axel’s current—

  She looked over, stunned. “Emily?”

  It couldn’t be.

  It had been four months since they’d met for a drink. After their meeting in May, they’d talked on the phone a few times. Brigid had gone to Emily’s house to meet her family, all of whom seemed understandably wary of the vampire. The two friends had kept in contact, but only over the phone the last few months, she suddenly realized. Otherwise, Brigid would have noticed Emily’s rapid deterioration.

  “Brigid… hello. I’m just—”

  “Em, what’s wrong with you?”

  The thin smile Emily had been trying to muster fell. “Nice to see you too. Been a while. How’s life? How’s immortal health? Must be nice.”

  Brigid shook her head and glanced rapidly between where Axel had been standing and back to Emily. Jack must have already taken the other vampire out to the alley. “I’m just… I’m not going to lie, Emily. You look sick. How…?” Brigid’s voice dropped and she stepped closer, closing her nostrils to the sickly sweet scent of Emily’s illness. “Are you using again? It’s okay. Everyone slips. I’ll get you help. We don’t even have to tell your parents if you don’t want to. I have some money and I can—”

  Emily tore her thin arm away from Brigid’s warm hand. “You think I’m on drugs again?”

  “You’re skin and bones! I mean… what the hell? The last time I saw you, you’d lost some weight, but you said you’d found a new diet and you felt wonderful. Now, you look like a—a skeleton. I’m worried about you!”

  “Well, don’t be.” She handed her cash over to the bartender and took her drinks. She turned, but Axel was nowhere to be found.

  “What are you doing with Axel? Are you two back together?”

  Emily’s eyes flickered over the crowd, and Brigid had the distinct impression that she’d already been forgotten. “We’re just friends,” the woman murmured, clutching the two martini glasses between bony fingers. “We just hang out. It’s not like he’s dealing drugs anymore.”

  “He better not be.” She was drifting away, and Brigid was torn between wanting to shove the girl in a cab and send her to her parent’s house—possibly along with some chicken soup if she could find it—and trying to find Jack and Axel. She didn’t buy for one moment that Emily wasn’t using again. And if Axel was the one to blame…
br />   Brigid blinked. In the split second that she’d glanced toward the alley, Emily was gone. She searched the club with her eyes, but the thin woman wasn’t in the shadows or the mess of surging dancers in the middle of the floor.

  “Shit!” Where could she have gone so fast? Brigid bolted down a narrow hallway and out the alley door. She stepped into the dark street and looked around. There were two figures near the dumpster. She could hear voices, but nothing distinct. Brigid scowled. They must have been vampires. Only other immortals could drop their voice to a low whisper that was only intelligible to others with preternatural hearing. She walked toward them.

  “Oy!” She reached for the pistol at the small of her back.

  They were cloaked in thick darkness, but her eyes caught the profile of the shorter one as he began to turn.

  Her breath caught. “What—?”

  The pinch caught her at the base of the neck a moment before she sensed the vampire behind her. It was like being blasted by fire from the inside out, and the crackling energy that lived under her skin froze for a split second before time seemed to stop.

  The dust motes hung still in the glowing streetlights. She tasted the acid on her tongue. Silence blanketed the cold alley.

  A familiar voice screamed ‘No!’ as her heart took off in a panicked gallop. The air around her seemed to contract a second before the fire exploded out and everything went black.

  When Brigid woke, it was approaching dawn. She was naked and alone in the alley, and a black ring scorched the earth around her. Her fangs fell down at the scent of human blood; then she gagged as the smell of burning flesh touched her nose. She turned, and there was a pile of black flakes scattered out behind her and the twisted body of a human a few feet away.

  She crawled toward the human remains. The mostly intact shoes marked it as a male. Probably young from the style. She guessed he’d been wearing a jacket, but the blast had ripped it back, melting his keys and wallet into the scorched ribcage, just below his heart.

  Brigid crawled away, disgusted, trying to remember what had happened. Trying not to retch.

  The club.

  Music. Pounding. A dance floor. She’d been looking for someone.

  Emily.

  Had she followed Emily out to the alley and lost her temper? Brigid didn’t remember. She didn’t remember anything. She hadn’t lost control like that since… not since she had first turned in the library in Wicklow.

  Her stomach twisted as she stared at the charred bones. Had she meant to kill the human? Was she defending herself? Who was it?

  She looked around at the alley. She needed to find answers. She needed to get to shelter. And—she rubbed hands over her bare arms—she really needed some clothes, as well.

  Brigid could feel the rips on her knees closing as she lurched to her feet. She was starving. Clearly, whatever fire had overtaken her had drained her body and her amnis. She needed food. She stumbled toward the back door of the club, hoping she could find clothes inside.

  As she walked past the human’s body, a gold glint caught her eye in the streetlight.

  She bent down. Melted into the side of the body, under what was left of the man’s back, was a warped glass bottle. The lid was gold and it was made of frosted red glass, like an expensive perfume or lotion. But Brigid was fairly sure that the human wasn’t carrying perfume in his jacket.

  Because when she picked it up and brushed the black scorch marks away from the bottle, only one word was etched onto the dirty red glass.

  ELIXIR.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Dear Brigid,

  It’s silly the things we do, sometimes. Like writing letters no one will ever read.

  I’m in a cave in the Caucasus Mountains. It’s midday and Giovanni is sleeping. I might die tomorrow night, and the only thing I can think of is that I wish I’d had time to make love to you once. Just once. To know you that way. To love you. I don’t want to die. I’m greedy, aren’t I? A thousand years isn’t enough.

  I wish that I’d had the feel of your skin against mine. To wake next to you at nightfall.

  I love you, Brigid.

  So, I’ll pray the prayer of a greedy man and ask for another thousand years. Maybe that will be enough.

  Part of me wishes I could turn back. Go to you. Hide away and steal those years, but then I wouldn’t be good enough for you. You’ve never run from a fight in your life. Not even when it was against yourself. Have I told you how I admire you? I do.

  You’ll never read this letter. And I’ll have faith that God would not have brought us together without a purpose. The hardships in your life have only prepared you for this fight. And I have to believe I will be at your side.

  Whatever happens in these mountains, this evil will not end here. It will not end in Rome. Perhaps it will not end. And I must seek the truth to make us safe. That is the only thing keeping me from you, love.

  I pray for your safety.

  Take care of yourself, Brigid. Until I can.

  Carwyn

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Dublin

  December 2012

  Brigid listened as Deirdre sat in Murphy’s office, briefing them about the events in Rome.

  “Livia is finished,” she said. “The power in Rome lays in Emil Conti’s hands now.”

  “He’s an ally,” Murphy muttered. “Not a strong one, but we’ll cultivate it. And the elixir?”

  “The plant in Bulgaria has been shut down. The elixir that has already been produced there has been destroyed. Father assured me of this.”

  Declan leaned forward. “That’s all fine, but what of the bottle that Brigid found on the body here in Dublin? Whoever attacked her may have been killed, but they’re not working alone. We’ve had more and more reports of immortals with odd behavior. Vampires leaving town unexpectedly. Humans in our community disappearing. Something is going on. This elixir is here and we still have no idea how to detect humans that have taken it.”

  Brigid asked, “This Lucien Thrax, the physician. He’s taken it?”

  Deirdre said. “Lorenzo gave him the elixir in Eastern Europe over a year ago. When I left Rome, he was failing, though Carwyn writes that his sire came for him and they think—think—that a sire’s blood will heal an affected vampire.”

  “But it was Lorenzo who gave it to him. Not Livia?”

  Deirdre nodded.

  Murphy asked, “What are you thinking, Brigid?”

  “Who’s to say that Lorenzo didn’t have his own supply? I doubt he trusted anyone but himself. If he gave some to Lucien, perhaps he gave some to others, too.”

  Silence blanketed the room.

  It was Tom who finally spoke. “It would fit with what we know. He was the one trafficking heroin in Dublin—probably to fund this elixir production. When Ioan was killed and he disappeared, the purer heroin dried up. Almost completely. We have a year or two of quiet before we start hearing rumors about this vampire drug. Deirdre, does that sound about right?”

  “It does,” she said softly. “Fits the timeline.”

  “He probably just quit with the human drugs and focused on the vampire one. I’m sure it’ll make him more money.”

  Declan said, “And now someone is picking up right where he left off. Probably the local that Brigid was always on about.”

  Jack shook his head. “Even if people believe the rumors out of Rome about the effects, many won’t believe it. Besides, it’s still attractive. It quells bloodlust, increases elemental strength—”

  “Causes you to lose your mind,” Brigid said. “Slowly, but surely kills you.”

  Murphy said, “So does heroin, but humans become addicted to it nonetheless. And for immortals who already believe they’re superior to humanity, this drug will be even more attractive. No one will believe it’s harmful until they see the effects themselves. We all believe what we want until we’re forced to face reality.”

  Deirdre said, “Carwyn says that it’s foolish to think that
we can stop it at this point. Maybe it was hidden for hundreds of years, but the secret’s out now. And there will always be vampires and humans willing to exploit the ignorance of others. But they won’t do it without some kind of safety net. Not for something this dangerous.”

  Brigid nodded. “There has to be some way to detect it in humans.”

  “Agreed,” Tom said. “There’s some way of detecting a human that’s been tainted. Otherwise, the ones profiting from it are poisoning their own food supply. The smartest dealers never use themselves. Human. Vampire. Same thing.”

  Murphy asked, “Did Carwyn tell you anything else?”

  Deirdre said, “No. I believe he’s been having meetings with someone in Vatican City, but he’s been quite vague. But he’s in Italy until after the New Year, so he has to have a reason. Otherwise…” Deirdre glanced at Brigid. “I doubt he’d stay away from Dublin for this long.”

  Brigid studiously ignored the pointed glances that bounced around the room. He hadn’t written to her. Hadn’t called. And he was getting information from the Vatican, which probably had big, important sources around the globe. No doubt, an ally that Carwyn would not want to lose. Especially now. After all, this problem was far bigger than sentiment. A heavy weight settled over her heart and any hope she had of Carwyn leaving the priesthood fled. Just as quickly, she brushed her own feelings aside. They were facing a new, incredibly dangerous threat, and she was acting like a lovesick schoolgirl.

  Idiot.

  As Deirdre finished up with the briefing, Brigid took quick notes that she just as quickly committed to memory.

  The drug, Elixir, had been produced as a partnership between Livia, the former leader of Rome, and Lorenzo, the vampire who had killed Ioan.

  Ioan’s research before his death had been confirmed by Lucien Thrax, an ancient physician who had become infected with the elixir himself. It was possible to create a drug that would affect vampires. While the initial effects of the drug were positive, like all drugs, it would eventually kill the user. The ancient vampires that Carwyn and Giovanni Vecchio found had confirmed that the elixir would, over time, destroy an immortal’s amnis and ability to function by killing the mind. The results took time to manifest, but were inevitable. Only the ingestion of untainted blood from a vampire’s sire could heal the amnis and return an immortal to health.