Building From Ashes (20 page)

“No, but he has a mole shaped like the island of Cyprus behind his left ear.” He caught her biting back the laugh. “I don’t think he even knows about it. Don’t have the heart to tell him. He’s too vain.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I am. Too much seriousness in the world as it is. It’s my mission to bring levity.”

“So that’s your mission, heh? I’ve been wondering what the flowered shirts were for.” In the blink of an eye, a dark look fell across her face. “I never wanted this.”

Carwyn took a deep breath. He had sensed the heat in her, simmering below the surface. “Don’t be too angry with Deirdre. She acted out of grief. If you’re honest with yourself, you know Ioan would have done the same. She couldn’t stand the idea of losing you.”

“When things… when things were bad, I thought, ‘At least it’s not forever, Brigid. At least this life is short.’” He saw her blink back tears. “Growing up with Ioan and Deirdre, I knew better than anything that human life passed quickly. And I always thought, when the dreams were bad. When the dark parts were a little
too
dark… I thought, it’s not forever. Life isn’t forever.”

“But now it is.” His heart ached for her, and he resisted the urge to pull the car over just to hold her for a bit.

“I suppose it is.” She reached over and patted his arm. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to wander out into the sun.”

His voice was hoarse. “Don’t you dare.”

“I am going to miss it, though. The sun.”

“I can’t blame you. I still miss it. Even after a thousand years.”

“I always thought—” She broke off with a private smile.

“What?” He wished that she could still blush. She would have been.

“I always thought maybe that was why you liked those horrible Hawaiian shirts.”

Carwyn looked at her. Then glanced back at the road. Then looked again. He burst into laughter.

“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.”