The Dracove (The Prophecy series) (28 page)

What magic is this?

When the coffin lid opened a crack, he reached for its edge. With a sudden fury, he flung the lid open.

Grantlund stared at the man he’d fought with and escaped only the night before in his mind.

Cianán stumbled back, but regained his composure and smiled at Grantlund.

 
“Come, my child. There’s no reason to be frightened.”

“Why am I here, in this place?”

Cianán smiled, flashing fang. “I’m certain ye have many questions. They’ll all be answered, in time. Come with me. I’ll show ye things that before tonight ‘ave only been in your dreams.”

“Why should I go with ye? You tried to kill me.”

“I
did
kill ye or ye wouldn’t be here, an’ now you’re alive again. Now, come.” Cianán extended his hand to help Grantlund out of the deathtrap.

Grantlund was hesitant, but took his hand.

Cianán pulled him out. “You ‘ave a new life, an’ I have many things to teach ye.”

They left the cemetery, and Grantlund began his immortal life.

* * * * *

Present day, Ireland

The day marked the beginning of his life without Siobhán, the beginning of his life in the shadows. A life he’d never asked for, never wanted, but didn’t have much say in its outcome.

He turned around on the balcony. Through the doors he watched Kylie toss and turn. She wasn’t sleeping well at all. It started when Cianán arrived.
She must know somehow
. He moved toward her, barely registering the clouds building above his home.
Why does she not know about her ancestry, and her destiny?
He frowned.
What are you dreaming of, my love?
He sat on the bed beside her and concentrated on piggybacking the dream. The storm outside continued to build.

~She ran down a long hallway, someone chasing her. Terrified, she ran toward a large door—his front door—slammed into it, but couldn’t open it. Whoever or whatever it was chasing her pushed her against the door. She was frozen, paralyzed, fear in her wide emerald eyes. A hand slammed down on the door next to her head . . . and the locket shrieked.~

A loud crack of thunder swept through the castle. The wind howled. Kylie jumped, screaming, telling the figure from her dream to leave her alone.

Grant fell off the bed.

“Kylie!” He climbed back onto the bed and grabbed her swinging arms. “It was just a dream.”

She breathed heavily, and finally calmed down. Her eyes were wide and frightened, just like in the dream. Tears welled up in her green eyes.

Grant pulled her close. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “You’re here with me now.”

“What . . . happened?” Her voice trembled in a way he never wanted to hear again.

“You had a bad dream, but you’re safe now.”

“It felt so real.”

“I know, but it’s okay.” He held her tightly.

The feel of her trembling body against his agitated the predator in him. His nails grew a quarter of an inch. The bloodsong, already quite the symphony at this point, crescendoed. He needed to calm her down. Her fear alone could bring on his bloodlust.

He didn’t hear the thunder or see the flashes of lightning anymore. No rain hit the roof. He pulled back and pushed the hair away from her face. Outside, the stars and the waxing moon shined brightly. He wondered how a storm could leave as quickly as it came in. Turning back to her, he raised her head and wiped the tears from her face.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded slowly and stared up at him. “I’ve had this dream before, only this time I was the one being chased.”

“When was the last time?”

“The morning I received the locket.” She shook her head. “Strange things have happened to me ever since I got that damn thing, even before I got it.”

“I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”

“I don’t know.” She lowered her head.

“Shh. It’s okay.”

She hugged him tightly and buried her face at his neck. “Why do these things happen to me?”

“What things?”

“These things . . . I don’t know how to explain them, they just happen. For instance, every time I have that dream, someone dies. But as I said, this time I was the one being chased. Does that mean I’m going to die?”

He shook his head and recalled his dream of holding her soaked, limp body.
Maybe she’s starting to realize what she can do, but doesn’t understand why or how. This isn’t going to be easy, not when I have to prepare for Cianán
.

“What did you say?”

The question startled him. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh . . . I thought you did. I guess I’m just tired.”

“Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”

“I don’t think I can go back to sleep after that dream.”

“Sure you can. I’ll be right here. Would you like a glass of warm milk? I can get it for you.”

She nodded.

“I’ll be right back.” He kissed her cheek and slowly got up. She held his hand tight. “It’s okay, I’ll be right back. I promise.”

She reluctantly let go and he left the room.

As he descended the stairs, he thought about what she’d said to him.
Did she hear my thoughts? No, that’s not possible. I’d know if she were in my mind, I’d feel it. It’s not possible.
He attempted to assure himself, but couldn’t let it go.
Well, maybe, there were other times.

He stopped and looked at the painting of The Morrigan, hoping that maybe, after all these years, she’d give him an answer. She didn’t, of course. Why would he expect a painting to answer his questions . . . or prayers? He shook his head and headed for the kitchen.

I’ll just have to test her tomorrow
.

Once he’d warmed the milk, he sped up the stairs to the bedroom, hoping she wouldn’t walk out and see how fast he was.

“Kylie?” He looked around. She wasn’t in bed.
Where did she go?

Kylie stared out into the night, wondering what in the hell was going on.
And where did that storm go? I know I heard it.
She walked to the edge of the balcony and rested her arms on the stone railing. The moon cast its light down on the landscape, illuminating the grounds around the castle.

It was almost a full moon.

And it was almost her birthday.

She hadn’t said anything to Grant about it yet. She didn’t really like celebrating them anymore. Her birthday landed on Halloween and her parents died on her twentieth.

God, that was thirteen years ago
.
Thirteen, lucky number.

She looked out at the forest in the distance and the rolling green hills—which looked a little gray in the night—and listened to the sea crash against the rocks on the other side of the castle. There wasn’t one cloud in the sky, and she couldn’t figure out why. She’d heard the thunder.

It even smelled like rain.

The idea of staying in a castle still astounded her, though Grant was certainly right about the beauty of Ireland.
Tobak would love this place.
She missed her wolf tremendously. Kylie felt safer with her around. It wasn’t that Grant didn’t make her feel safe; it was just different.

She heard him call for her and looked toward the door.

I’m out here
. She was sure why she’d only thought it, but a moment later, he stepped out onto the balcony, looking at her in the same concerned way Ana did. She smiled and he walked toward her.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Trying to relax.”

“Here, this will help.” He handed her the glass.

“Thanks. You’re fast. I thought it would take longer.” She raised the glass to her lips and sipped it.

Grant placed his hand on her shoulder and gently massaged. A soft breeze blew through his hair. She was once again amazed at his beauty. The moon lit his face, caressing it with her illuminated fingers, yet his shadowed blue eyes glowed in the darkness. She’d never seen eyes like his before. They completely mesmerized her. The cool breeze off the water sent a chill through her.

Grant wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “Cold?”

“Just a chill.”

“We could go inside—”

“No, I like it out here,” she said.

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “You love the night, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“So do I. There’s such mystery in the night, things you can only see at that time—”

“You see more than most people, don’t you?”

Surprised, he pulled back a little. “Why do you ask?”

“I guess I just feel that you do.”

He smiled again, but remained silent for a moment. “Why do you stare at the moon so much?”

“I’m not sure.” She turned her head toward the glowing orb. “I’m drawn to it somehow.”

“Kylie, I need to tell you something.”

She finished the last of the warm milk, and looked up at him. “Sounds important.” Considering the brief terrified expression in his eyes, very important. Her gut churned and twisted into a knot.

“It is.”

She swallowed past the nervousness. “What is it then?”

“Well . . . I’m not sure how to say it.” He looked around. “Let’s go inside.”

That didn’t make it any better. “Why?”

He looked toward the forest again. “The wind has ears,” he said quietly, taking her hand and leading her inside.

Thunder roared. Cianán opened his eyes and gently lowered himself to the boulder beneath him. He looked toward the cliffs in the distance and watched the clouds brew over a castle he knew quite well. In an instant, the storm was gone, as though it never formed. He jumped off the boulder and walked to the edge of the forest.

Listening carefully, he heard two people speaking. Both voices were very familiar, but he was too far away to understand them. Within moments, the voices were gone.

Grantlund likely realized he was within earshot.

Cianán turned and headed into town, where Conor would be with his mortal friends. Cianán didn’t understand why Conor had mortal friends; he certainly didn’t need them. Perhaps Conor kept them around for entertainment.

As he stepped inside the pub, he saw Conor at the end of the bar. Cianán moved closer and focused on changing his appearance to that of an older gentleman with graying hair and a beard. He sat at the opposite end and ordered a Guinness. Cianán watched Conor until the bar closed.

And then the boy’s test would begin.