She lifted an eyebrow, but handed over the smoke. “I didn’t know you indulged.”
“Occasionally.” His lips closed around the filter. He could feel the faint warmth from her lips. The subtle taste of her that lingered. “Not often. It’s a bad habit, or so I’m told.”
Brigid rolled her eyes. “There have been moments in the last couple of years when it was a cigarette, a fix, or cutting my own arm off. Smoking seemed like the healthiest of those three options. I’ll quit eventually.”
He handed it back to her. “Do. No reason to see you to an early grave.” But he would. As young as she was now, he’d watch her age. The slight lines around her mouth would grow deeper. The wary gaze would gain wisdom. A strange melancholy filled his chest. “He would change you. If you wanted it.”
Her head lifted with a jerk. “Ioan?”
“Yes.”
“I know. I don’t want it. I never have.” She took a deep drag on the cigarette and passed it back to him. He let his fingers brush hers when they touched.
It wasn’t unusual. Humans who grew up under immortal aegis often saw the drawbacks to vampire life more clearly than others. Were there benefits? Of course. Carwyn loved being a vampire. It fed his lust for life and his curious nature. But there were drawbacks, as well.
“Why not?” he asked softly. “What are your reasons?”
If he wasn’t watching closely, Carwyn would have missed the slice of pain in her eyes. It was quickly smothered as she looked out to the falling snow again.
“Sometimes, it’s just good to know that there’s an end to things.” She must have seen his eyes narrow, because she continued, holding her hand out for the lit cigarette. “I’ve no death wish. Nothing like that. But… as Father Jacob is fond of reminding us, ‘This world is not our home.’ Sometimes, that’s a comfort to me.”
Carwyn ached to see her smile. He wanted the clear ring of her laughter and the joy of watching her face light with amusement. He had the sudden urge to lift her up and tickle her, which was ridiculous. She wasn’t a child.
“Far from it,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing. I should take shelter. The sun will be up soon.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
He frowned. “What?”
“Happy Christmas, Carwyn.”
He grinned from ear to ear. “Happy Christmas, Brigid. Some priest I am, to almost forget my Lord’s own birthday.” Her mouth twisted at the corner as she watched him. She was smirking. No, she was smothering a laugh. He winked at her. “Almost.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” He started to walk away, but turned back. “There’s another verse I like more than Father Jacob’s very serious and somber homilies.”
“Oh?”
“It’s from the book of Jeremiah. ‘For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.’”
Brigid stared at him, speechless.
Carwyn said, “Have a hopeful Christmas, Brigid.” He turned and walked into the house just as the sun started to rise.
Chapter Eight
Dublin, Ireland
April 2008
Brigid emptied the magazine into the target at the end of the range, carefully set down the assault rifle on the bench in front of her, and took a deep breath. Her heart was racing, and she turned when she heard a short chuckle behind her. She grinned at Tom. “That was the most fun I’ve ever had firing a gun. Ever.”
“Wouldn’t get to play with those in the Garda, would you?”
“Not likely. But then, I wouldn’t have been able to touch ninety percent of the weapons you’ve shown me if I had joined the human police.”
“Well, don’t get too attached. That’s the same rifle the German army uses, and it’s not likely Murphy’s going to give the okay for you to cart one around town, is he? Though, if you asked, he might make an exception.”
She rolled her eyes. “Hush. Not you, too.”
Tom picked up the rifle and took it over to the storage counter where one of the employees that worked at Murphy’s shooting range would clean and store the weapon.
In the eight months she’d been working for Patrick Murphy, Brigid had come to realize that she held a charmed status among his employees, and not because of her pixie face. No, it was the fact that she was a mortal under Ioan and Deirdre’s aegis that made everyone—except Angie and her coworkers—give her special deference. Growing up in Wicklow, she’d never truly understood how powerful or well-respected they were. Here, spending time with immortals from all over the world, it was impossible to escape. She knew the only reason she’d made it onto the security team was because of her family.
Staying on it, however, was entirely up to her.
“Jack says you need to be more diligent with your PT,” Tom said as they walked out the door and up the stairs leading toward the first floor of the Docklands Building. Brigid took off her safety glasses, pulled out her earplugs, and tucked both into her bag.
“Do you realize how frustrating it is to train with someone who never gets winded? Never tires out. Never breaks a sweat. Never—”
“Stops teasing you about how slow you are? That’s Jack. Get over it and get to work. I’m serious.”
Of course Tom was serious. Tom was always serious. They never spoke about it, but Brigid was fairly sure that Murphy and Tom were brothers of some sort. Not biological. Tom Dargin looked nothing like Patrick Murphy. He was far older when he’d been turned, though his waist was still trim and his shoulders un-stooped. His lantern jaw had been broken more than once when he was a human, and he bore heavy facial scars. And yet, despite his brutish appearance, Brigid found his company the easiest of any of the vampires she worked with.
Tom was still talking. “There’s no better physical trainer than Jack on the team, and you’re still very green. Don’t make me put you at the desk. I want you to double your time at the gym.”
She curled her lip at the thought of more hours spent with Jack. “Fine.”
“And don’t give him a bad attitude.”
“Fine.”
He was glaring down at her. She could practically feel it.
“Do I need to take away your toys?”
Brigid’s mouth dropped open. “You wouldn’t!”
The corner of his grim mouth turned up. “Double time at the gym or your nine millimeter is mine.”
“You’re a mean vampire,” she muttered, “and I don’t like you anymore.”
“You never liked me to begin with. You just liked my access to firearms.”
“That’s not… completely true.”
They waved at Angie, who was sitting at her desk, as they walked back into the security office that Tom ran with Declan and Jack. Declan was there with his hands, also known as Sean, a young computer programmer who did little besides type what Declan told him to on the computers the water vampire couldn’t touch.
A large map of the city spread over the back wall, desks dotted the room, and a full wall was taken up by monitors that covered the building and its perimeter. Jack was paging through a thick file and scanning the monitors. It looked like a small, and very efficient, police station.
And Brigid had a desk there.
“Jack,” Tom called, “Murphy around?”
“No.” He glanced at Brigid and gave her a devilish grin, as if he knew he’d have her in his clutches for twice as many hours a week. “He’s meeting with the Englishman; then he’s for France to meet with Desmarais. Brigid, he forgot to send you a kiss, love. Shall I stand in?”
“Piss off, Jack.” Brigid set her bag beside her desk and grabbed one of the cloths she kept on the corner to wipe the firing range grime from her skin.
Despite how the boys teased her, there was nothing but polite interaction between Brigid and her employer. She knew Murphy was watching, but so far, he’d kept his distance.
Much as she had expected, Brigid was going to have to earn his trust and confidence. When he was around, he was polite, but distant, which was fine by her.
“Connor,” Declan barked when he saw her, “what did you say the name of that club was? The one near Parliament House?”
“I don’t remember, to be honest. It was Rave… Rage. Something like that. I only went there once. Even when I was using, that place was too rough for me.” She saw Sean flinch. It was slight, but it was there when she said the name of the club. She caught Declan’s eye and nodded to the young human. “Ask him. He knows.”
The young man looked up with a panicked expression. “I—I don’t use—”
He was cut off when Declan put a heavy hand on the back of his neck. Beatrice could almost see the creeping amnis as it took hold, flooding his cerebral cortex and opening his mind to the immortal.
Declan said, “What is the name of the club?”
Sean blinked once. “Rage.”
“Do you go there regularly?”
“No.”
“If you wanted a fix, who would you talk to?”
The young man blinked, and Brigid wondered if Declan was asking the right questions. All Murphy’s employees were made to take a drug screen, so if the young man was working in the building, it was likely he wasn’t using.
“Sean…” Brigid walked over. “Which of the bartenders had the most business? You know which one had the stuff. They always had the most people asking for them at the bar.”
“The girl. Shannon, I think. She always has the most people around, but she’s not very pretty.”
Brigid looked at Declan. “That could be all he knows. If he’s not a user, he probably wouldn’t know about the harder stuff. But it’s a name. If she doesn’t have it, she’ll probably know who does, and they might be willing to talk.”
Declan scowled and released the young man. Jack walked over from his perch by the television screens and put a hand on the back of Sean’s neck as he walked him out to Angie’s office. “Look her up tomorrow, Brigid. You’ve got the best contacts at the clubs. It’ll be your job.” Declan called out to Jack, “Tell Angie I’ll need a new set of hands! Connor, in the meantime, get over here. You can type for me.”
She sat at the desk and followed Declan’s instructions as Jack came back in and began to speak to Tom in a low murmur.
Declan barked, “Pay attention. This is what I want you to look for…”
Hours later, after her eyes had begun to water from staring at the computer screen as she searched shipping manifests with Declan, Brigid walked to the elevator and hit the button for the fourth floor. It was close to two in the morning and she was exhausted.
She had to admit, part of her loved living where she worked. The other part felt like she mostly never quit working. But that, she decided months ago, was fine. The last thing she needed in Dublin was spare time.
Just as the doors were about to close, a small hand with pink fingernails slipped through and a familiar voice called out, “Hold the lift!”
The young woman was laughing as the doors opened, clearly coming home from a fun night out. But when Emily’s eyes rose and met Brigid’s, she gasped.
“Brigid Connor?” Emily’s mouth spread into a broad, friendly smile and she stepped inside. “You have normal hair now!”
Brigid was at a loss. It was the first time she’d run into any of her old crowd. “Emily… hello. I—I didn’t know that you—”
“I can’t believe this! I’m so excited. Everyone thought you’d disappeared. No one asked questions, of course, but I had to admit I was worried when you didn’t come back to school. And then Mark told us about meeting that vampire—”
“What vampire?”
Emily giggled. “I don’t know his name, silly. Mark said… Well, you know how he was. I think he was jealous.”
Brigid’s mouth dropped open. “Who?” She suddenly remembered that her old boyfriend had been with her that fateful night by the Ha’Penny Bridge Inn when Carwyn had discovered her drug use. “Carwyn? Mark… he never mentioned anything to me. I’d forgotten he even met him.”
“So…” Emily’s smile turned mischievous. “Is that why you disappeared? Ran away with a handsome vampire, eh? Mark thought you’d had a history with the guy and hadn’t told him. Said he was older and—”
“No!” She blushed bright red as she thought about Carwyn at Christmas. The wink he’d shot in her direction as he pulled off his shirt made her feel like a nervous schoolgirl, and her heart raced thinking of the furious crush she’d entertained from a distance when she was young. Then there was their conversation on Christmas morning she still thought about.
Carwyn. Her mind turned too often to the unattainable immortal.
“It’s nothing like that.” She cleared her throat. “So, Emily, do you work here now?” Brigid straightened her shoulders and faced her old friend, reminding herself she was no longer the awkward girl from Parliament House. Emily had never had a problem with drugs. Not like Brigid. As far as Brigid knew, she’d always toyed around the edges of the scene. Smoking some pot. Taking Ecstasy when she went out. And Brigid had been very good at hiding her use from her friends.
“I’m working in the accounting department.” Emily rolled her eyes and pressed the button for the fifth floor. Her eyes saw Brigid’s floor and widened. “Fourth floor. Posh! And secure, eh? I suppose your family is still—”
“I’m working here, as well. I’m in security. That’s why.”
Emily grinned and leaned against the back wall of the lift. “This is so cool. I wondered so many times over the years. How long has it been? What, two—”
“Three years now. It’s been almost three years since I was… well, since I quit school.”
Emily looked a little confused, but happy, too. “It’s so great to see you.”
“Have you…?” Brigid shifted. “Have you heard from Mark lately?”
Her old friend gave her a soft smile. “London last I heard. He and Jenny Daly were married last year. Pretty sure they moved to London.”
She nodded. “That’s nice.” Brigid tried to think of anyone else from that time that she cared about asking after. There really wasn’t anyone, which made her a little sad. “So, Emily—”
“We should go out to catch up, eh? Just girls?”
Brigid blinked in surprise. “Oh, sure. That’d be fun.”
“There’s this fun club—” Suddenly, Emily broke off. “Oh, do you like dancing now or not?”
Brigid smiled. Though physical contact and crowded rooms no longer gave her the instinctive anxiety she’d once struggled with, she still wanted to avoid the scene. Besides, going to clubs felt too much like work anymore.
“Not really,” she said. “Maybe just lunch or drinks somewhere would be fun.”
“Sure.” Emily yawned. Her blinks were becoming longer and longer. Brigid realized that the lift had stopped on the fourth floor, but she still hadn’t slid the keycard that would open the door. She pushed off from the back wall and got it out, then swiped it and the doors opened with a hiss.
“I better go, Em. I’ll—”
“I’m in flat five-ten above, if you want to stop by whenever.” Emily was staring at the secured fourth floor with owl-eyes and gave Brigid a sleepy wave before the doors swiftly closed. Brigid spun around and started walking toward her flat.
Well, that was unexpected.
It was two weeks later when Brigid finally decided to ring Emily. She’d accessed her information in the security files. Jack had been relentless in teasing Brigid about her lack of a social life, and Brigid decided to take matters into her own hands. She could have a social life. She could. She already had an old friend to catch up with. If she didn’t date much, it just meant the men in Dublin weren’t all that interesting.
Much to Brigid’s relief, Emily did not insist on a club. She also didn’t ask how Brigid had found her number, but then the girl wouldn’t. She’d lived around vampires her
whole life.
They met at a busy café in Ringsend. The lunch crowd was bustling, but the restaurant wasn’t overcrowded. It was one of the newer places in the neighborhood, and Brigid found the whitewashed walls, simple art, and mostly vegetarian menu a nice change from the dark rooms where she spent most of her days. She took a deep breath and smiled across the table.
She could see Emily looking around, as well. “Kind of nice to remind ourselves we can walk amongst the living, isn’t it?”
Brigid laughed. “I was just thinking the same thing. I’m very pale, and I have no excuse for it.”
“There’s not many…” Emily glanced around. “Of our kind working in security, are there?”
“No, definitely not.”
“I won’t ask how you got the job, then, but you like it? The work?”
“I do. I’m very happy with it.”
“I remember you wanted to go into the police force. It’s much the same, then. So, are you the one behind the cameras? Should I wave the next time I walk down the hall?”
Brigid grinned. “Not me. I mostly…” Give them information about what I remember from our college days. Try to avoid getting too close to any of the shipments that Murphy intercepts. Avoid thinking about those soothing little pills on my bad days…
She cleared her throat. “Lots of background checks. Clerical work. Computer work. Things they can’t do with their… condition. Stuff like that. Nothing terribly exciting.”
“Well, it’s still got to be more exciting than all the numbers that swim in my head.”
Brigid shook her head. “I never had a brain for those kinds of things. I still need help understanding my bank statement.”
Their friendly server brought two steaming plates. Salmon cakes for Brigid and a steak sandwich for Emily. The girl started to devour the sandwich, eating with gusto, which surprised her. Emily had always been the one worried about her figure, not that she needed to be.
Emily must have caught Brigid’s look, but she only smiled. “Never mind me. I’m trying to incorporate more red meat into my diet.”