“Oh?”
Emily blushed prettily, then swept her collar to the side to reveal two distinct marks that could never be mistaken for anything else.
Brigid’s mouth dropped open. “So… you’re seeing a—”
“Yes. Haven’t said anything to Mum and Dad yet.” The blush spread down her neck, sweeping over the marks that lay at the base of her throat. “You’re actually the first person I’ve told. I know… well, you’re not as judgmental as most people.”
“Who would have a problem with it?”
Emily waved a hand. “You know, so many people are willing to work for… them. It’s okay to take the good job and the security and such, but God forbid you actually socialize with them. We’ve known each other for years, and we’ve been dating almost six months, but he’s still worried about meeting my parents.”
Brigid frowned. In her experience, it was usually the other way round. Most vampires kept a polite distance from human staff or casual acquaintances. An understandable habit, as far as she was concerned. She couldn’t imagine losing human friends over and over again, but never growing older or aging. It was another aspect of immortal life that she’d never envied and another reason she never wanted to turn. She wondered what kind of vampire Emily was seeing. It couldn’t be…
“His name’s not Jack, is it?”
Emily blinked. “What, Jack? No.”
“He’s Irish. Young looking. Curly hair and dimples. Looked like a fecking choir boy, but has the tongue of Satan?” Jack would like Emily. He liked the cute, curvaceous ones that had pulses and didn’t ask too many questions.
Emily snorted. “No, I swear, it’s not Jack.”
“Good. He’s an ass.”
Emily slapped her hand over her mouth to smother the laugh. She looked around instinctively, even though they were out in broad daylight. “You talk about… them like that? Does he know that you like him so much, Brig?”
“He knows exactly how much I like him.”
“I always envied that, you know.” Emily took another bite of her sandwich. “You’re so bold.”
“Ha!” Brigid cleared her throat. “How… Why did you think I was bold? I was never bold.”
Emily shrugged. “You had the issues about touching and such—which it looks like you’ve totally conquered—but you always said whatever you thought. No matter who was listening. I envied that. Still do.”
“But you’ve no reason to be timid about things, Em. You’re a smart girl. And obviously pretty special to catch the attention of…” Brigid smiled. “Whoever he is. One of the choosy ones.”
“Oh, hush.” Emily shook her head, but Brigid could tell the compliment had pleased her.
“So, spill. Are the stories true? Is it really the best sex ever? Fabulous, earth-moving—”
Emily laughed. “Sadly, he’s not an earth… type, so there’s no earthquakes. Thanks for asking, though.”
“You have to give me some details. It wouldn’t be fair not to.”
Emily just leaned forward across the table and grinned. “The stamina is, I’ll admit, impressive. And no need for recovery time.”
“Lucky girl.”
“Oh”—Emily smiled—“you have no idea.”
“And I doubt I ever will.” She winked. “No prejudice, just unlikely that any one of them would take a chance pissing off Ioan and Deirdre by asking me out.”
“Not even Murphy?” Emily had a wicked gleam in her eye. Brigid couldn’t help but smile back. “If the rumors are true… he’d be well worth taking a chance.”
“He might be… slightly more bold. But he’s my boss, and he acts like it.”
“I’m jealous.”
“Don’t be unless there’s a reason. Murphy’s very proper with me. So, really, do I know him? I’ve met most of the people who work for Murphy.”
“Oh, he doesn’t work for Murphy. But he’s been in Dublin for some time. I think you met him once, ages ago.”
She frowned. It was possible. She’d met a lot of humans and vampires at one time that she had no memory of the next day, much less three years later. Emily was still talking.
“His name’s Axel. Tall, blond. He was at the club. You know, the first night. When you met Mark.”
The first night Emily had slipped her drugs. Brigid tried not to be resentful. She’d forgiven Emily years before. It wasn’t her fault that what had been a dangerous, but manageable, vice for Emily would spiral out of control for Brigid.
“Axel?” She frowned. “Oh, I do remember him. Scandinavian or something, right?”
Emily grinned. “You know what they say about those handsome Northern raiders.”
“Bad girl.”
“But a very, very satisfied one.” She giggled and started eating again. “He’s a water… you know. Does something with shipping. He’s old enough to do whatever he wants. We don’t really talk about his past much.”
“Most of them don’t.”
He was in shipping? And he worked in Dublin? Why hadn’t she heard of him? Murphy owned Dublin shipping, and Brigid had come to recognize most of the names of the people he had business with.
“But he’s great. Very considerate.” Emily paused and smiled. “Honestly, he’s the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. It’s kind of odd, if you think about it.”
Brigid decided that she worried too much. It was entirely possible that Axel used a different name for business than in his personal life. He wouldn’t be the first one.
“You should come with me a couple weeks from now,” Emily said. “We’re supposed to go meet a friend of his who’s visiting from out of the country.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, totally posh event. Penthouse in town.” Emily mouthed ‘water vampires’ and rolled her eyes. “But Axel said it was going to be a big party, and I could bring a friend, since I won’t know many people there. Want to come?”
“I’ll check my work schedule, but I can probably go.”
“Fun! And who knows, you might meet one of his friends that you take a liking to.”
That was doubtful, but she smiled anyway. “So, all Axel’s friends, huh?”
“Lots of international people. Mostly from Europe, I think.”
Brigid took another bite of her lunch. “Sounds fun. Like I said, I’ll check my calendar.”
Emily paused with a smile on her face. “It’s so good to see you again, Brig.”
Despite their pasts, Brigid had to agree. It was nice to sit and talk to someone who was just a friend. No vampire politics. No intrigue. Just a regular old human who liked her. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Chapter Nine
Wicklow Mountains
September 2009
Ioan grabbed another reference book from his bookcase and tugged at his hair. Carwyn looked up from the book he’d been reading.
“What are you so frustrated about?”
“I can’t…” Ioan muttered. “There’s something about all this business that’s bothering me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He went back to reading his book. “Stop slamming books around.”
His son crossed his arms and turned in his chair. “This drugs business in Dublin.”
“Well, the whole of it should be bothering you.” Carwyn’s mind flashed to Brigid’s face. “Brigid still working with Murphy on it?”
“Yes, and she asked me a question that’s been plaguing me for days now.”
Carwyn frowned. “What was it?”
Ioan took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. “She asked me if there were any drugs that could be intoxicating to immortals.”
“Ridiculous question.” He closed his book. On the surface, it was a ridiculous question. Why was it plaguing Ioan? “Alcohol and drugs do nothing to us. We could shoot ourselves with a lethal dose of heroin, and it wouldn’t even make us light-headed. Liquor?” He snorted. “Nothing. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
Ioan was staring into the fire with a preoccupie
d look on his face.
“It’s not possible,” Carwyn said again.
“But what if it could be?” Ioan’s eyes lit with a familiar curiosity that managed to spark Carwyn’s interest. “A drug. Or… a poison of some kind?”
Was it possible? The brightest immortal minds had never truly understood what animated them. Could there be some way to tamper with their health? With their minds?
No, it couldn’t be. Carwyn leaned toward Ioan, trying to catch his eye. “In over a thousand years, the only thing I’ve ever known that is able to harm us is light and losing our heads. Even if we’re starving, our bodies shut down and go into a kind of hibernation. Our amnis protects our mind, and as soon as we are fed—”
“Do you remember when we found the old one?”
Carwyn leaned back. “How could I forget?”
“How old do you think he really was?”
“No idea.” It had been five hundred years before, in a cave in Cornwall. Carwyn had no idea how old the vampire had been, or even what element he had belonged to. The emaciated figure had been buried in rocks and so thin he’d looked like a mummy. Only the slight hum of amnis had alerted Carwyn and Ioan to his presence. When they poured blood in his mouth, the vampire sprung to life, only to immediately gnash his teeth at their throats. They tried to reason with the vampire. Tried to give him more blood from the deer they had killed, but he was past understanding anything but the bloodlust. In the end, Carwyn twisted his stick-thin neck and ended the creature’s misery.
“Have you ever—?”
“Seen one that far gone?” Carwyn shuddered. “No. But we have no idea if he was rational before he was buried, either. Some of the ancients were savages.”
“But the idea of a drug…”
He frowned. “I understand why the idea is intriguing, but I still don’t think it’s possible. Why did Brigid even ask? Did Murphy—?”
“No, if Murphy had the question, he’d ask me himself. No, this is something she’s picking up. Something that she’s curious about for some reason.”
Damn, distracting woman. Carwyn tried opening his book, but closed it almost immediately. “It’s ridiculous.”
“Everything we understand of our kind says it is not possible.” Still, Ioan was biting his lip as he did when he was thinking.
“Agreed.”
Then why wouldn’t the idea leave Carwyn alone? “I suppose…”
Ioan leaned forward, the scientist in him leaping on the speculation in Carwyn’s voice. “What if there were some way to affect our blood, Father? It would have to be our blood, wouldn’t it? That’s how we sire our children. That’s how we bond ourselves to our mates. Our immortality is fed by blood and our power is contained in it. If there were a way to affect our blood—”
“With what? I’ve been alive for a thousand years, Ioan. I’ve seen immortals drink every kind of blood you can imagine. Before human beings were so numerous, our kind were forced to drink from any animal we could find if we were hungry. You know this. Humanity, at one point, was a delicacy. Mammal blood. Reptile blood. Even bloods we consider beneath us now can sustain us, if we must. There is no blood that sickens us, or—or intoxicates us—”
“What if there was something that could be added to human blood? Something that would affect us. It’s possible.”
Carwyn was baffled. It was a curious question, and he understood the inquisitive mind of his son, but how the question of tainted human blood affected them, or why it was important to Brigid, he could not fathom.
“Why does she want to know?”
“Brigid?”
“Yes, why was she asking?”
Ioan shrugged. “She’s very involved with this push that Murphy’s making in Dublin. I know it’s annoying to Murphy. All this is being shipped into Ireland somehow, and he’s had control of the shipping in and out of this country for a hundred and fifty years. I’m sure it’s bothering him that some human has—”
“Are we sure it’s a human? Whoever is trafficking the drugs? Do we know?”
Ioan leaned back. “Are we?”
“If it’s another immortal, someone infringing on territory under his nose…”
The implications of something like that were far more serious, Carwyn considered. “Something like that could lead to a war, Ioan.”
“I know. I’ve had my suspicions, but on certain matters, I’m sure you can understand why Patrick Murphy is hesitant to involve me.”
Carwyn shifted and sat up straighter. “But no problem involving Brigid, eh? No problem involving a defenseless human under your aegis?”
Ioan snorted. “I’d hardly call her defenseless. They’ve trained her—”
“If this enemy is immortal, no human defenses will suffice! Particularly for a woman.”
Ioan cocked an amused eyebrow at him. “Careful, Father. Don’t let Deirdre hear you. And don’t forget what century we’re in. I hardly think Brigid would appreciate your outrage, even if it is on her behalf.”
Carwyn sat back in his chair, still frustrated. “I have not forgotten what time we are in.” Still, he scowled. He could hear himself; he sounded old. And he realized that he had slipped into the language of his past halfway through the conversation with Ioan.
He cleared his throat and made an effort to relax his posture. “Is it wrong to want to protect those weaker than you?”
“Of course not, but I think she’s very well protected. If she wasn’t, I wouldn’t chance her working with him. Or the police. But I know she contributes. She’s extremely bright. If she ever…” Ioan trailed off, and he had no doubt his son was considering Brigid’s mortality and how much brighter the girl would be with an immortal mind.
He asked quietly, “Has she talked about it? Does she want to be like us?” Why was his heart beating? Was it because he could see the pain in his son’s eyes? He knew Ioan and Brigid were very close.
“She says she doesn’t want it,” Ioan finally said. “I asked, when she was going through withdrawals. I told her… it would cure her of the addiction. That her body would never crave it again. It was unfair of me, to ask her when she was in so much pain, but I cannot deny that I—” Ioan’s voice caught. “The idea of losing her is very difficult. It has been many years since I have loved a friend as I love Brigid.”
“She is your daughter.”
“No!” Ioan shook his head. “No, she isn’t. She’s never needed or wanted a father. But she is… like a sister, perhaps. I won’t deny she’s always reminded me of Angharad.”
“Your youngest sister?”
“Yes.”
Carwyn nodded.
Ioan asked, “You understand?”
“I changed you, didn’t I?” He chuckled. “Trust me, I understand sentiment. Your eyes… exactly like Efa’s. Exactly. And your grandfather’s.”
“We’re very lucky, Father. We have the comfort of family. We know we are loved.”
“Does she?” he murmured. He looked up to see Ioan staring at him with an inexplicable expression on his face. “What?”
His son only smiled and shook his head a little. “Nothing. Lost in my own mind, I suppose. I should get back to working on this research for Brigid. She has a reason for her questions, even though she hasn’t told me what it is. It might be something she’s not at liberty to talk about. She takes her job very seriously.”
“What does she do?” If it had anything to do with violence, Carwyn was putting a stop to it, no matter what Ioan or Murphy thought. Ioan was the most powerful vampire in Ireland, and Carwyn was his sire. His word would not be questioned. If they were too foolish to guard the young woman who had been through so much, then he would step in. It was the only responsible thing to do. After all, she was mortal.
“I know she does a lot of research, but she likes fieldwork as well.”
He scowled. “What kind of fieldwork?”
Ioan paused, then burst into laughter. “Am I under investigation, Father? Is there something you’re not tellin
g me?” Ioan winked. “Some interest in young Brigid Connor that you haven’t told me about?”
Carwyn blinked. “I don’t… I am the leader of this clan, Ioan. And she is a human under our aegis. It’s my responsibility—”
“Actually,” Ioan said, “it’s mine. Except for your children, you’ve always avoided asserting authority over our people, since your vow is to the church. Are you… feeling differently these days?”
Carwyn shut his mouth, which was hanging open, much to his own chagrin. He pushed back the irrational desire to hit the smug-looking vampire across from him. Why was Ioan looking so smug?
Suddenly, Deirdre rushed into the room. “Brigid’s on the phone in the kitchen, Ioan. She has a question of some sort.”
Ioan shot a quick wink to him and slipped out the door. Carwyn picked up his book and resisted the urge to follow him. Deirdre sat down next to him and looked at his book. “What are you reading?”
“I have no idea,” he muttered, then cleared his throat. “What does that woman do in Dublin?”
“Who, Brigid?”
“Yes.”
Deirdre shrugged. “I’m not sure of all of it, to be honest. Research. Day-person type of things. And she helps question the humans.”
“Why?”
“You know how odd humans are. She understands them better than our sort. Knows the right questions. She’s young. Has some experience in the drug world, unfortunately. At least she’s putting it to use.” He could tell Deirdre was concerned, but trying to hide it. “She likes it. And Murphy knows if she gets hurt, he’ll have hell to pay.”
Carwyn stared into the fire. Thoughts of dark alleys and vicious, long fangs swirled in his mind. Then, the vision turned, and suddenly it was Brigid’s slender neck he saw. But the gasp he imagined was not one of fear. And the mouth that closed over her neck was… He shook his head.
“I’m on my way back home in a few days. I’ll catch the boat from Dublin. Maybe I should meet her for a drink. Just to check up on her, you know?”
He could see Deirdre’s eyes relax at the corners. “That would be good. I know… I know how responsible she is. And we’ve never had any hint that she’s using again. Still, she’s back in that world again, and I worry.”