“What?” Her eyes were wide. “Well, is it?”
She was brilliant. He could barely talk for gasping. “It probably is! I’ve never even thought about it before.”
“They certainly don’t do anything for your looks. You’re far more handsome in non-florescent colors.”
His grin only got wider. “You think I’m handsome?”
“What?” She scowled. “No, you’re… horrid looking.”
“You think I’m handsome.” His heart pounded. “You said so.”
“No. You have wild hair and—and your smile is…”
“What?”
“Too big.”
He belly laughed. “Why do I love it when you insult me so?” He reached over and tugged at her ear, but she reached up, pinched his hand and shocked him. “Oh ho!” An evil glint came to his eye and he grabbed the squirt bottle that Anne had put on the dashboard, aiming it at her.
“You better not. Carwyn!” She tried to grab it while the car swerved. “That’s just for emergencies!” Soon, Carwyn was roaring with laughter and Brigid was slapping his arm, trying to block the spray of water he aimed at her. Madoc was barking and jumping with excitement.
Anne must have pulled her earplugs out. “Really? Can’t I leave the two of you to yourselves for a few minutes? Carwyn, don’t run us off the road.”
“He started it.”
“She shocked me.”
He saw Anne roll her eyes and return to her book. The dog settled down and Carwyn focused on driving. But, when he peeked at Brigid, a smile still lingered on her lips.
Northern Highlands, Scotland
September 2010
There was a light mist falling when they pulled up to the grey stone castle. It was L-shaped and tall, a relic of a far earlier time, and Brigid hoped that it was warmer inside than it looked from the outside. Though, she had to admit the pervasive mist felt cool and refreshing against her skin. Skin that constantly felt warm, as if she were running a permanent fever.
“Home, sweet home,” Carwyn said. “Well, at least for the next year or so.”
“I’ve never been to Scotland before.”
“Not even on a school trip?”
“No.”
Anne crawled out of the back seat a moment before Madoc burst out and shot across the grounds, yapping and howling his relief at finally being free of the cramped vehicle. “You’ll like it here,” Anne said. “Max and Cathy are wonderful fun.”
“What about…”
“Tavish?” Carwyn smiled. “Tavish is… Tavish.” He grabbed their bags from the trunk, holding all three suitcases in his massive hands and almost skipping up to the dark, wooden door. Anne folded Brigid’s arm in hers.
“Carwyn loves it here. He and Max are very like-minded.”
“Well…” Brigid smiled a little. “This should be interesting, then.”
The Welshman was already banging on the door and yelling. “Open the door, you ungrateful children! Didn’t you miss me?”
The door cracked open and a grey head peeked through. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Hello, son!” Carwyn laid a meaty hand on the shoulder of the vampire in front of him. He was tall and thin, but his years, however many they had been, had not treated him kindly. His shaggy grey hair fell into his face and his mouth was turned down in a permanent frown.
“I refuse to call you ‘Father’ when you look twenty years younger than me, Carwyn. But come in anyway.”
“Always a joy to see you again, Tavish.”
Tavish only grunted and stepped aside as Carwyn walked in the house.
“Highland hospitality,” Anne whispered as they walked up to the door. “Hello, Tavish, lovely to see you. This is Brigid.”
The vampire made more vague grunting sounds and waved them into a brightly lit living room just off the entryway before he picked up a book and disappeared down the hall.
Brigid looked around. It was everything she would have thought a Scottish castle would be, even down to the suit of armor standing in the corner of the room and the old shields hanging on the wall in a dignified line. A fire roared in a massive fireplace and her ears pricked up when she heard quick footsteps approaching.
This had to be Max. A handsome man with light brown hair and brilliant green eyes, he greeted them with a wide smile as he embraced Carwyn.
“Father! So happy you’re here. You made good time. You just beat Cathy. She’ll be here in a few.”
“Coming from Edinburgh?”
“Of course.” He turned and held a hand out to Brigid. “Maxwell Mackenzie at your service. You must be Brigid. I assume you met my rude brother.”
“Brother?” Brigid looked over her shoulder, but Tavish was nowhere to be found. “You mean…” She frowned, then cocked her head. “You’re brothers?”
They did look alike. If she thought about it, the two almost looked identical, only Tavish was an older, grumpier, version of the man in front of her.
“Yes. Twins, in fact. I just got the better end of things in the eternal youth department.” He clapped his hands together and ushered them toward the fire, greeting Anne with a kiss on the cheek and taking everyone’s coats. “Can I get you anything to drink? Beer? Wine? O-negative?” He winked at Brigid.
Anne asked for wine, and Carwyn asked for beer. Brigid wanted to curl into a ball and hide. She’d drunk several cups of blood when she woke in Glasgow that night, but she was hungry again. “Um… could I get some blood, please?”
“Of course! We have fresh animal or preserved human.”
She looked to Anne, who shrugged and said, “They’ll both fill you up the same.”
Brigid cringed under Max’s friendly, yet expectant, stare. “Human, please.” It was strange to think about. It was even stranger to say. She felt like a freak. Like a parasite, like a— “On second thought, could I just have the animal? Is it… what is it?”
Max smiled. “We keep Highland cattle. There’s as much cattle blood as you can drink around here.”
Cattle. She nodded. Not all that different from steak, right? Maybe cattle blood was the best choice.
“Okay, let’s do that.”
She glanced over and saw Carwyn smiling at her. Anne just patted her hand and settled back into the couch as Max left to get their drinks. She tried to relax, but soon sat up when she heard a car pulling into the drive. A woman’s raucous laughter rang out and Brigid heard a lower voice chime in after her. The smell of sweet human blood reached her nose and her fangs descended. In a split second, she had bolted for the door.
Carwyn grabbed her before she was halfway there.
“Ah, hold on now, love.”
She snarled at him. “Let me go!”
“Not going to do that. You’ll thank me later.” A flame flared along her neck, but Carwyn took a soft throw that lay across a nearby couch and gently draped it over her back, smothering the flames. He made soothing sounds and pulled her into his chest as the footsteps approached and Brigid continued to snarl. Her throat was on fire.
“…come in for a drink after that drive.”
“No!” Through the haze of bloodlust, she heard an American accent. “New vampire inside, Shane. Better keep away. In fact, just stay in the gamekeeper’s lodge until you leave. Don’t want to take any chances.”
Carwyn’s rumbling growl snapped Brigid out of her predatory stare, and Anne’s cool mist enveloped her, hissing against her skin.
The human spoke again. “You got it, Cath. I’ll see you later.”
“Have a nice night.”
A few moments later, a tall woman strode into the room, shaking off her overcoat and throwing it over the back of a chair. Her hair was cut in a curly bob, and black eyes danced in a pale face with a sprinkling of freckles. Her gaze swept the room, winking at Brigid who was still tangled in Carwyn’s arms.
Completely nonplussed by the smoldering vampire, Cathy said, “If it isn’t my favorite delusional father-in-law! How are you?”
Carwyn
chuckled, and the familiar sound caused Brigid’s fangs to retract. She took a deep breath. Then another. “If it isn’t my favorite heathen.” He cautiously set her on her feet. “How are you, Cathy?”
“Still an atheist. You?”
He took a step back from Brigid. “Still a priest. Imagine that.”
“Damn, I keep hoping reason will find a way through your thick skull.”
Carwyn’s hand made small, soothing circles at the small of her back. “A thousand years, darling. I don’t think you’re going to change my mind now. This is Brigid.”
Words failed her. How was she supposed to greet this whirlwind of a woman who had burst through the door, completely unafraid of the snarling, fang-baring new vampire being wrestled down in her living room? She had always thought Carwyn was larger than life, but Cathy Mackenzie filled up the room with her voice alone. Brigid felt tiny and strangely shy.
“Hello, Brigid! Welcome to the highlands. Nice to have another foreigner around.”
She took a breath and held her hand out, trying hard not to wince at the snap of energy when their skin touched. The other fire vampire only grinned; Brigid could see the fangs hanging sharp in her mouth. “You’re a live one, aren’t you?”
Brigid cleared her throat. “I suppose so.”
“Oh, the accent!” she said. “I do love that accent. Bet it’s driving Deirdre absolutely bat-shit nuts that you’re here, isn’t it?”
Brigid lifted an eyebrow. She was willing to give this woman the benefit of the doubt, but she wouldn’t stand for anyone insulting Deirdre, whatever her feelings for her sire might have been.
Cathy seemed to sense that a line had been crossed, so she backed away and went to greet Anne while Carwyn stood beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. Why did he do that?
And why the hell did she find it so soothing?
“Aye, my bonny lass has come back to me.” Brigid heard Max lay on the Scottish brogue dramatically thick when he walked into the room. Cathy immediately abandoned Anne and ran to him. He set the tray of drinks down and caught her in his arms. They started kissing in front of the room.
Quite enthusiastically.
Anne cleared her throat and glanced away. “Newlyweds,” she said, by way of explanation.
“Ah,” Brigid mumbled. “How long have they been married?”
“Fifty years or so,” Carwyn muttered, angling her back toward the fire. “Cathy works in Edinburgh, so they spend weeks apart at times.”
“They, uh, seem to be making up for that.”
She saw Tavish walk into the room and throw down his book on the end table in disgust. “Oh, for God’s sakes. Get a room.”
Max muttered between kisses. “Shut up, Tavish.”
Tavish didn’t say another word, but he picked up an apple from an arrangement in the entryway and tossed it at Cathy’s head. Max caught it with one hand while Cathy stepped away from Max and snapped her fingers. Brigid jumped back when a fireball burst into her hand.
“Oh my God!”
Cathy hurled it at her brother-in-law, who quickly grabbed one of the shields hanging on the wall and deflected the whirling flames into the hearth where they were swallowed up in the crackling fire.
Brigid’s mouth gaped open. What the hell had she stepped into?
Max winked at her and grinned. “Seventeenth-century armor. Not just for decoration in our home.”
Chapter Thirteen
Castle Mackenzie, Scotland
October 2010
“Are they always like this?” Brigid leaned toward him and Carwyn tried to ignore the subtle, smoky scent she exuded. They had been in Scotland for three weeks and were listening to yet another shouting match between Cathy and Tavish refereed by a very unconcerned Max.
Carwyn cleared his throat. “The Mackenzie clan do not believe in holding their tongue. About anything.”
“It’s probably one of the reasons Cathy and Max spend so much time in Edinburgh,” Anne said from her perch by the fire. She was knitting a sweater while Madoc lay at her feet. “Tavish is such a hermit.”
She frowned at him. “Are you sure this is the best place for me to hide out and learn how not to kill people?”
Anne barked out a laugh. “Brigid, I couldn’t think of a better place if I imagined it.”
“What does that mean?”
Brigid looked up at Carwyn, but he only shrugged and tried to think about something other than how close her leg was to his as they sat on the couch. “Don’t ask me.”
Which didn’t mean he didn’t know exactly what Anne was talking about. If there was anyone who needed to say what was on her mind more, it was Brigid. As acerbic as her wit could be, when it came to personal things, she was as defensive as ever. And with her immortal powers and the protection of amnis, her mind was completely impenetrable, even to Anne.
“Brigid, why do you think Tavish and Cathy fight? Does it make you uncomfortable?” Anne asked.
“Oh no,” Brigid said. Her eyes flicked toward Carwyn before she looked back at Anne. “We’re not doing that here, Anne.”
“Why not?”
Brigid’s eyes flickered to his once more before she exchanged some sort of wordless conversation with the other woman. The water vampire finally shrugged and muttered, “Fine. It’ll all come out at some point.”
“Anne…” Brigid’s voice was a low growl that made him bite his cheek.
Damn if every growl, every peek of fang, every glare from her inhuman eyes didn’t put him on edge.
He’d tried, damn it. Carwyn had tried to push back the attraction he’d recognized so many months before, but once the trauma of Brigid’s turning had passed, once they had established a more normal pace of life in the Highlands, it came roaring back, stronger than ever. She was immortal now. Every part of her called out to him. Her crackling energy. Her penetrating stare. Her sharp wit. The rugged heart of her, so strong despite all she had been through.
And layered beneath all of that, a vulnerability that she’d shown to precious few. So few that he counted himself lucky to have ever caught a glimpse. His feelings of pure, male attraction were quickly turning into something far more dangerous.
Brigid and Anne had slipped into Irish, which they often did when they were speaking of things the young vampire found uncomfortable.
“I think you’re delaying dealing with things that—”
“I’m not talking about this right now.”
“Why not? No one hides their feelings in this home, Brigid. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to come here. The courtesy you were raised with has many fine qualities. I know you were always taught to be careful with your words and mind your tongue, but in this case, while we are here—”
“I’m not talking about it right now!”
Brigid stood up and stormed from the room. Madoc loped after her. A few moments later, Carwyn heard the front door slam and then the dog’s howl as it set off across the grounds. Max and Cathy had sent away the human who traveled with them, so there were no mortals around for miles. She was safe and the pervasive mist that filled the hills would keep her from losing control of her fire.
“You need to stop needling her, Anne.”
“You need to leave.”
He started. “What?”
“You, Carwyn. Need. To. Leave.”
He frowned. “Why?”
Anne let out an exasperated sigh. “Do you really not know?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He picked up a book and opened it.
Anne frowned and narrowed her eyes. “You’re almost as interesting a case study as she is. Seemingly involved, and yet maintaining such a state of aloof separation. I suppose after a thousand years, the humor provides a kind of shield that—”
“Anne, I am not a patient. Stop it.”
She broke into a grin. “Think. You know why you need to leave. Brigid’s not here. It’s just me. You can admit what you’re feeling. I won’t say a word.”
&
nbsp; Well, shit. He squirmed a little and took another drink of his beer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the way you look at her, Carwyn. I’m talking about her reaction to it, whether she realizes it or not.”
His eyes darted up. “You think she realizes it?”
“Maybe not consciously, but Brigid avoids talking about things she thinks will upset you when you’re around.”
He held his breath for a moment before he let it out with a sigh. “The… feelings. They’re not her problem. They’re mine.”
“What makes you think they’re a problem at all? I’m not saying that.”
“But you think I should leave her?” He set down the book he’d been pretending to read. “I told her I’d help her. I told her…” to hold on to me. He rubbed the red scar on his chest where her small hand had branded him.
Anne’s face softened. “She’s not a project, Carwyn.”
He looked away and stared into the fire. “I know that, Anne. I’m not an idiot.”
Anne offered him a sympathetic smile. “Brigid is a protector. That’s how she deals with her past. And she senses that her distress causes you pain, so she’s avoiding dealing with the things she needs to in order to gain control.”
He let out a hoarse laugh. “You think… you think she’s worried about me?”
“Yes.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No, it’s just who she is. It’s her character, Carwyn, and it’s not a bad thing. You’re a comforter; she’s a protector. But she doesn’t need comfort right now. She needs to be able to be angry and learn how to deal with it, and for that, you need to leave.”
His heart ached at the thought of leaving Brigid. Of being so far away, even if she was surrounded by friends and family. Carwyn had told her that he’d take care of her.
“I can’t, Anne.” His whisper was hoarse. “Do what you need to. I’ll keep my distance, but don’t ask me to leave.”
Anne set her knitting aside and leaned forward. “I know you’re not my patient, so consider this as a friend. Your world, the life and family you’ve spent a thousand years building, has suffered a tremendous loss. You are trying to help Brigid, but think for a moment. Do you want to stay for her? Or for yourself?”