Building From Ashes (19 page)

The two vampires continued to shout in the background as Brigid carefully proceeded with her offense. Anne had taught her to play chess when Brigid first came to stay with her in Galway five years before. Their friendship had remained one of the few constants in Brigid’s life. She was glad to be with Anne, despite the circumstances.

Her first few nights in Wicklow had been a blur. Carwyn and Deirdre quickly dug shelter in the hills behind the ruined house, but Brigid knew she could not stay for long. The enticing smell of human was everywhere. Also, they had to keep buckets of water around to douse her anytime she got too heated. Mostly, she felt numb. Driving back to the misty shores of Anne’s isolated home on the shore of Galway Bay had been a relief.

Within five moves, Brigid had put Anne in check. The water vampire smiled. “I can’t believe how good you are now.”

“I didn’t believe Ioan, not really, but I
am
smarter. It’s a bit startling. That’ll come in handy when I can go back to work.”

“See? And your hair will grow back.” Anne’s eyes twinkled. “Not a bad trade-off, really. And no wrinkles. You’re determined to go back to Dublin?”

“If Murphy’ll have me back after I leave work for over a year.”

“A fire vampire on his security team? He’d be a fool to pass that up. And Patrick is anything but a fool.”

Brigid took a deep breath and fingered the silk scarf that covered her head. She hoped her hair grew back by the time she returned to work. She could only imagine the jokes Jack would make. She looked like a cancer patient. Or a skinhead. Luckily, her eyebrows and her eyelashes had already started to grow. Anne said her hair would grow more slowly than it did when she had been human, but it would still grow. Her skin was pale and smooth; her body was quicker. She was strong, so strong that she often felt clumsy with it. But her eyes were what bothered her the most. How would she ever pass as human with them? She knew they looked awful, no matter what Carwyn said.

Carwyn, Anne, and Deirdre had spent a month teaching Brigid the basics of immortal life and trying to decide what to do with her for her first, most volatile, year. Brigid knew that returning to Dublin wasn’t an option for some time. Even the scent of the humans a quarter mile from Anne’s home made her growl with hunger. She needed to be somewhere deserted, and currently, Carwyn’s sons’ castle in the highlands of Scotland seemed the best option.

Brigid caught her new reflection in the mirror and quickly glanced away. “I can’t get used to them.”

“Your eyes? They’re actually quite lovely. Very unusual.”

Brigid muttered, “There’s a lot unusual about me now. Fire. I had to become a fire vampire…”

Anne took a sip of wine. “There’s always been something very special about you, Brigid. It’s not a bad thing. A challenge, but you’ve overcome greater ones.”

Brigid tasted the cup of blood that Deirdre had heated for her at nightfall. It was some kind of animal; she didn’t ask what. It did not taste as good as the human blood Anne had provided the first few nights, but Anne, at over two hundred years old, didn’t need to drink nearly as often as Brigid, so she didn’t keep much extra around. Carwyn was going into the town every evening and getting blood from the local butcher for her. Brigid was trying to be grateful.

She curled her lip. “How do they drink this stuff?”

“Don’t ask me. I think animal blood is vile. But most of Carwyn’s clan follows his example. You know, he was likely a vegetarian in his human life. The church in Wales during the late medieval period…”

Carwyn
.

Brigid glanced down the hall again. Who was he to her now?

Friend. Protector? Something else entirely more complicated?

Her feelings for him had always been so mixed. He’d danced on the edges of her world. A mythic figure to the child. A brief, unrequited crush to the teenager. He hadn’t registered in a real way until he’d broken down the carefully built wall of secrecy she’d built in college. She’d been so angry with him then… but it wasn’t all anger. And later?

He flirted with her, but then, he flirted with everyone. Brigid couldn’t deny she’d enjoyed it. Then the Catholic in her felt guilty because he was a priest. But it wasn’t as if Carwyn was like any other priest she’d ever met. How did he see her? How did she see him? She wasn’t certain anymore. Nothing was certain. Her whole world, all her plans, all her routines, had been burned as surely as the old farmhouse in Wicklow.

“Brigid?” She looked up to see Anne giving her a guarded look.

“What?”

“You’re heating up again. I can feel it. Try the breathing exercises.”

Brigid nodded and began the slow, meditative breathing that Anne had practiced with her in the previous weeks.
In. Out. In. Out.
She closed her eyes.

“Hold on to me, Brigid.”

Her heart sped as she remembered the careful way he lifted her from the ground and carried her out of the mountain. Gently. As if she was precious.

“I’ve got you. Don’t let go.”

But did he really want her to? Holding on to Carwyn at this point was liable to get him burned. Literally.

“There’s one big thing you need to think about, Brigid. We made progress in treatment. A lot. You’ve come to terms with many things about your past, but you put off dealing with your anger, and it’s never gone away.” Anne spoke in a calm, soothing voice, but the words still pierced the hollow in Brigid’s chest. “I knew it. You knew it. But I thought you’d have time to come to terms with it on your own. Then you lost Ioan. And now you’ve lost your mortal life.”

In. Out.
Slow, steady breaths. She felt a cool mist blow across her from Anne’s raised fingers.

She asked, “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that you can’t put off dealing with your anger any longer. Putting it off could mean your death.”

Brigid snorted. As if that meant anything to—

“Or the death of someone close to you,” Anne said softly. “Someone you care about.”

From the corner of her eye, Brigid could see Carwyn down the hall, leaning against one of Anne’s kitchen counters as he and Deirdre talked. His red hair was mussed as if he’d been running his hands through it in frustration. His forehead was furrowed in thought and his arms—the arms that had held her so carefully—were crossed across his chest in a stubborn pose. His eyes rose and caught her glance; he let a crooked smile curve the corner of his mouth.

He wasn’t going to leave her alone. She could feel it.

Brigid sighed. “Well, shit.”

Two weeks later, Carwyn, Brigid, and Anne were bumping over deserted roads leading to the isolated castle owned by his two sons, Maxwell and Tavish Mackenzie.

“How far north do we have to go?”

Brigid was sitting in the passenger’s seat with her hands folded carefully in her lap as they travelled over rocky roads. Carwyn asked, “Are you comfortable enough?”

“I’m fine. How much farther?”

She didn’t look fine, he thought. She looked nervous, no doubt worried over what kind of hellish place she was going to spend the next year. Damn Deirdre. The stubborn Irishwoman had made her low opinion of Max’s wife well-known. “Just a few hours.”

The car fell silent again until Brigid spoke.

“What’s the best thing about being a vampire?” she asked.

“Not having to breathe,” Anne said. Carwyn looked over his shoulder. “What?” She shrugged. “I like to swim.”

“Looking at the stars,” he said quietly.

“Colors are much more vivid,” Anne said.

“Music. Good music anyway.”

Anne laughed. “No grey hair. Well, if you’re not Tavish.”

“Amnis. I’m not going to lie, it’s fun messing with people sometimes.”

“Amnis. It’s amazing to be able to help humans the way I can.”

He smiled. “Anne, have I told you that you’re a truly lovely person lately?”

“No,” she quipped. “I’m quite offended when I think about how long it’s been.”

“Independence,” Carwyn said. “Because—let’s face it—we all accumulate quite a bit of money over the years unless we’re idiots. Hunting. And… no deterioration of my dashing good looks.”

Anne laughed. Brigid just smiled.

“How much are we telling her, Carwyn?”

Brigid looked over her shoulder. “You’re telling me all of it. I asked, didn’t I?”

Anne just gave a wicked laugh. “Fine. Drinking from humans. Don’t let the virtuous animal drinkers fool you. Once you’ve perfected control? It’s
fantastic
.”

He saw Brigid looking at him. “Don’t ask me. My sire only drank from animals. That’s how I was taught. The few sips of blood I’ve tasted over the years have been minimal, other than turning my children, but that’s not the normal kind of drinking.”

“But for sustenance, you’ve never…”

Carwyn kept his eyes firmly on the road. “No.”

Anne said, “Carwyn is extra virtuous because drinking from humans also brings out our… other hungers, if you understand me.”

Carwyn kept his eyes on the road as tension descended on them. Anne was right. Bloodlust and sexual lust were closely tied. For a mated vampire? Not a problem. For one who had accepted the celibacy his office demanded? Well…

“You know,” Anne said, “sex is one of the—”

Brigid cleared her throat. “I get it, Anne. Thanks.”

“I just mean that it’s another thing that’s better. Sex is fantastic. Particularly with another vampire.”

Carwyn gritted his teeth, feeling his fangs fall as he stared ahead, never taking his eyes off the road. Anne just kept talking.

“You know, come to think of it, I think sex is the best part of being a vampire. You don’t get tired or sweaty. And then, with the amnis, you have the added benefit of—”

Brigid’s voice was hoarse when she interrupted. “Pretty sure I get it, Anne. Thanks.”

Carwyn could smell the smoky sweetness of her scent as it filled the car, and he bit back a growl.

“Okay, moving on…” Brigid said. “What’s the worst thing?”

Both Carwyn and Anne said together, “The sun.”

Silence fell for a few minutes until Anne spoke. “The electronic thing has become very problematic, as well.”

“Oh,” Brigid groaned.

Carwyn said, “What?”

“I was just thinking about work. If I go back to work for Murphy after my year here, I’ll have to hire a set of hands, like Declan. It might be too much bother.”

He curled his lip thinking about Brigid going back to working for Patrick Murphy. “I think he’ll be willing to put up with the bother.”

“Boredom can be a problem when you live as long as we do.” Anne paused. “Not boredom, exactly… aloofness. We tend to become quite separated from the world, if we let ourselves. Very set in our ways. I’m starting to feel it myself. Change, after so long, becomes quite difficult. But change is the only thing that keeps us truly alive, isn’t it?”

Brigid answered softly, “I suppose so.”

Her voice was so sad that Carwyn reached over and ran the back of his finger along her chin, flicking the corner of her mouth until she smiled.

Anne piped up from the back seat. “I’m going to zone out and read for a bit.” Anne, Carwyn remembered, needed quiet. She always had earplugs with her.

He put his hands back on the wheel and there was silence for a few moments as Anne opened her book.

Finally, Brigid spoke. “So, being able to read without getting motion sick, is that one of the benefits?”

He smiled. “No. Afraid that’s just Anne. I still get queasy. Especially in planes.”

“Can you travel by plane? Can I?”

“There are a few very special planes that can take our sort. Gio has one, but I avoid it. Horrid thing.”

He saw her shake her head out of the corner of his eye just a moment before a furry face poked between them and nudged his shoulder. “Settle, Madoc.”

The wolfhound was only a puppy. Still, he calmed down and Carwyn saw Anne lift a hand to scratch his ears. A small snorting sound came from across the car. He glanced at Brigid’s near-laugh. “What?”

“Why did you bring your dog?”

“Oh, he was missing me. Just a puppy and I left him all on his own for too long. Sister Maggie would have devised some medieval torture if I hadn’t taken him off her hands. For me, not the dog.”

Brigid looked back. “That is the largest puppy I have ever seen.”

“He’ll be almost as tall as you when he’s full grown.”

She shook her head. “Dogs.”

“Not a cat person, are you?”

“Not an animal person.”

“Shh.” He frowned. “You’ll hurt his feelings.”

Madoc gave a mournful sigh from the backseat as they went over another bump in the road.

“Your friend, Gio. With the plane? He’s a fire vampire, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“And he’s around five hundred years old?”

Carwyn nodded. “I believe so, yes.”

She was silent for a few moments. “Has he ever killed anyone?”

“Not by accident, if that’s what you’re asking.” He caught her eye and winked at her. “Though, he had quite the reputation as a mercenary for a couple hundred years. Fire vamps tend to be the biggest bully on the block. Get a good handle on your element, and you won’t find many foolish enough to challenge you, Brigid.”

He could tell by the smile that curved her lips that she liked the idea of that. Ah, his combative Brigid. He knew once she got accustomed to the idea she’d like being a force to be reckoned with. She played with the end of her scarf where it lay against her neck. Carwyn tore his eyes away.

“Does Gio have all his hair?”

Carwyn said, “It’s a bit of a sore point for him. His woman likes his hair longer, and he’s always burning it off in places.”

“Great.”

He glanced at the grey scarf that covered her head. “Don’t be too sad. Your hair will grow back, and at least you don’t have an oddly shaped head.” He reached over and palmed her scalp as she batted his hand away with a curled lip.

“Stop!”

Carwyn laughed. “You could have some strange lump on it, love. Now
that
would be embarrassing.”

She was trying very hard not to smile. Stubborn girl. “Does your friend have a lump on his head?”