Building From Ashes (13 page)

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 preoccupied 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 telling 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.”

Carwyn threw an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t. I’ll check on her. I’ll make sure everything’s safe.”

“Thanks, Father.”

Dublin, Ireland

There was a wry smile on her face when she entered the Ha’Penny Bridge Inn and slid into the booth across from him.

“Feeling sentimental? Or wanting to remind me of my sordid past?” she asked, but didn’t truly seem annoyed.

“I like the beer here.”

“You can get Guinness anywhere, Carwyn.”

“True, I suppose. Drink?”

“Sure.” She shrugged. “Whatever you’re having.”

He stood and walked to the bar. In truth, he couldn’t pass the pub in Dublin anymore without thinking of her. She looked good. Healthy. Her skin was fair, but she looked like she’d been getting some sun. Her hair was still a natural dark brown with no purple streaks in sight, but she was back wearing jeans and an old T-shirt with The Clash on the front instead of her stiff, professional wardrobe.

He ordered two drinks and walked back to the bar, sliding the whiskey toward her. Her eyes lit up, and he caught the smile.

“You’re a contrary one, aren’t you?” she said.

“I thought you liked whiskey.”

Her smile broadened.
Still no laugh.

“I do. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. How’s life?”

There was an odd expression in her eyes. “Checking up on me again?”

He frowned. “No. Not… not like that. I was just a bit worried—”

“You were worried about me?”

Yes.
“Deirdre and Ioan were worried. And I was, too, of course. Not about the drugs or anything, just life. I know you’re doing the security work for Murphy now.”

She nodded silently, then took a sip of her drink. An odd smile crossed her face, and he frowned. Humans still boggled his mind at times. What was the woman thinking with that smile on her face? She almost looked disappointed. Did she have other plans that Friday night?

“You had plans, didn’t you?” he asked.

Her face reddened immediately, and he felt a quickening in his blood.

“No. No, I didn’t. I usually work weekends. That’s the most active time for… well, you know. Clubs. Parties. That kind of thing. I usually go with Jack, and we try to identify—”

“Who’s Jack?” He was surprised by the harshness of his voice. “Is that someone you work with?”

She curled her lip, and Carwyn felt his heart give a quiet thump.