Building From Ashes (32 page)

She was standing in front of the tree where he’d cornered her. She had her hand pressed against the black outline she’d left in the trunk of the oak and wore a concentrated frown. He stood behind some thick brush and watched her for a minute.

“I know you’re there, Carwyn.”

He smiled and stepped into the clearing. “Of course you do.”

“Besides, the rather powerful feel of your amnis, you’re not very stealthy when you move above ground.”

Carwyn leaned against a tree, careful to keep his distance. He ached for her, but he wanted to talk to her more. “I’ll keep that in mind. How are you?”

She finally looked at him and the corner of her mouth turned up. “Complicated.”

“Good. I hate being bored.”

A sad uncertainty came into her eyes. “Carwyn, I just don’t know what you expect from—”

“Do you really think you’re going to hell because I kissed you? Is it the collar? Is that why you ran away?”

The sadness turned stricken, and her mouth gaped open in shock. Then Brigid turned heel and ran.

His head fell back against the tree and he groaned. “You’ve really got to stop doing that, love.”

Carwyn took off after her, his long strides eating up the distance between them. He tackled her just before she reached the castle; then he picked her up, kicked open the door, and carried her toward the basement living room.

“You bastard, put me down!” She beat on his back as they walked down the stairs, but he didn’t release her. If she really wanted to be let down, all she’d have to do was—

“Bloody hell!” he yelped when she pulled up the back of his shirt and lay two burning hands on the small of his back. He dropped her immediately, but luckily, they were already in the den. “That hurts, Brigid!”

“I told you to put me down, you big brute! Next time, listen to me.”

“Is it so wrong that I want to talk to you and not worry about you running away?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Carwyn just stood, staring at her, blocking the door, and waiting.

Finally, she blurted out, “I had a crush on you when I was sixteen!”

He smothered a smile. “You did?” Well that was… completely adorable. He tried to remember what she had looked like when she was sixteen.

“It was
ridiculous
. I’d built you up in my mind like some kind of knight who had rescued me from the dragon. And—and you were so handsome, and I just… I had a massive crush on you. But then, you came to visit Ioan once, and you had just come from some meeting in Dublin with the bishop, and you had on your collar and your jacket and you just looked so… so
holy
.”

Carwyn stood, actually rendered speechless. Which was an accomplishment, he had to admit. Brigid was still rambling.

“And I felt so guilty. So,
so
guilty. I went and confessed to Father Jacob. I told him… well, not everything, of course, but he knew you were a priest. And that I had lustful thoughts toward you and that—”

“You had lustful thoughts?” That was promising.

She glared at him. “I did a lot of penance! I actually added to what he gave me because it didn’t really seem like enough. So, to answer your question,
yes
. I know it’s not entirely logical, but a very deep ‘raised by my aunt’ part of me feels like I am absolutely going to hell for kissing you and enjoying it so damn much that it’s almost all I can think of. And I want to do it again. A lot. And…”

She trailed off, a dazed look in her eye. Then she fell to the floor in a dead heap. Carwyn’s heart gave a leap as he sped over to catch her. “Brigid?”

He looked at the clock. Sunrise. Damn. That had to be the most inconvenient interrupted conversation that he’d ever been a part of. Still, he smiled as he looked into her peaceful face. Then he grinned.

“You enjoyed it? A lot? I’ll be hearing more about that very soon.” He lifted her up and took her to the couch. “I want to kiss you again, but it seems a bit wrong when you’re asleep. I can be patient.” He settled down on the couch and tucked her into his side, making sure her head was tilted so that he could look at her. “And yes, I know this is somewhat creepy, but I’ll fall asleep soon, too. So you don’t have to worry about me staring at you all day.”

Brigid didn’t say a word. She was sleeping the sleep of the newly immortal. At times it was hard to remember that she was so young. But she was. He ran soft fingers through her cap of dark hair. She was young in some ways, but perhaps even older than he was in others. She had suffered. She had fought. His Brigid had conquered demons and beaten back fire. She was remarkable.

“It’s no wonder that I love you so much, Brigid Connor. Now, I just have to convince you that all of this is God’s plan.” He kissed her forehead and leaned back, closing his eyes. “We’re meant, love. You’ll see.”

Brigid woke slowly. There was a luscious scent in her nose and the comforting smell of a warm fire. She could hear Madoc’s snores in the background. Her pillow was warm and firm beneath her cheek. It rose in a comforting breath as she opened her eyes.

Not a pillow.

She froze when she came to and her face was nestled in the crook of Carwyn’s shoulder. His arm was draped around her shoulders and his fingers trailed lightly along her wrist. He took deep steady breaths as her eyes closed again.

Brigid was resting with him. And she didn’t feel uncomfortable; it felt… right. It was Carwyn. And she knew without a doubt that he would sooner tear off his own arm than see any harm come to her while she slept. He must have known she was awake because his breathing changed slightly and a low heartbeat sounded beneath her ear as it lay on his chest.

“Carwyn?” she whispered.

He spoke in a soft voice when he answered. “Yes, love?”

She kept her eyes closed, trying to hold on to the peace of the moment. “Did I sleep here all day?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Sorry I fell asleep.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s natural. Your body needed the rest.”

They fell silent again, and the only sound was the soft tick of the clock on the wall. What had they been talking about when she fell asleep? Oh, God. Her pathetic schoolgirl crush… When she remembered, she tried to pull away, but his arm tightened around her, holding her in place.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said in a soft voice.

“About my embarrassing confession?”

“No. Well, yes, but I don’t consider it embarrassing. I’m quite flattered, really.”

“Of course you are. And I’m going to die of embarrassment now.”

“No embarrassment.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. She felt the current of it spread over her skin. Past her shoulders. Straight down to her…

“I am definitely going to hell.”

She felt, rather than heard, the low chuckle. “Now who’s being silly?” Carwyn paused, but didn’t stop stroking the inside of her wrist. It was hypnotic. She wanted to curl into his lap and stay forever. “I don’t want to talk about my collar, or your problems. I’m not denying them. I’m just not interested in all the marks against us tonight.” His fingers left her wrist to tilt up her chin so their eyes met.

“What do you want from me, Carwyn?”

“Many things.” A lazy smile spread over his face. “But tonight, I want to hold you, and kiss you, and tell you that I love you as often as I like. And you’re not going to run away—”

“But—”

“Or argue.” He pressed a finger to her lips before he traced around them with care. Brigid’s skin was on fire. “Shhh,” he soothed her. “I’m not asking you to say anything. Or do anything. Just… let me love you for a bit like I want. Please, Brigid?”

His blue eyes burned into hers, her heart gave a quick lurch, and she fell. Utterly and completely.

But she couldn’t say the words. Couldn’t say them when he thought it might be in thanks or out of obligation. So she knit their fingers together and lifted her face to kiss his lips.

Oh, it was
sweet
. Achingly slow and gentle. One hand pressed against his chest and she felt the sure, steady heart give a solitary thump. Slowly, as if he was trying not to startle her, Carwyn pulled her onto his lap so they were face-to-face. One hand rested lightly at her waist, and the other made a slow, soothing circuit up and down her back, occasionally stopping to play along her neck and the fine, dark hair that covered the nape.

She melted into his arms as he made love to her mouth, interspersing light kisses with teasing bites.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I’ve waited so long for you, Brigid.”

It made her ache.
Why me?

As if he could hear her thoughts, he whispered again, “I love your strong heart. I love your mind and your passion. When you fall in love with me, you’re going to love me madly. Completely. Because that’s who you are.”

I do!
She almost cried as he kissed her.

“I should also point out that I’m extremely fond of your mouth at the moment.”

She smiled against his lips. How could he do it? How could he make her heart bleed and laugh at the same time? How could she ever be his equal?

“Carwyn, I…”

He pulled back slightly. “What?”

I love you, and I’m so hopelessly incapable of being who you need me to be.
“I… don’t know what to say.”

He smiled at her. That teasing smile that made her insides melt. “Then don’t say anything.” He kissed her again. “I love you. That’s all. I love you.”

There was nothing to say. Nothing. So Brigid gave herself fully over to his kiss. To the comfort and strength of his arms. And she loved him.

They spent hours in the den. Kissing. Laughing quietly. And she lost count of how many times Carwyn told her he loved her. That she was beautiful. That she was a treasure. It was as if he were making up for a thousand years of loneliness and filling her to the brim with tenderness all at the same time. She was heady with it, and grateful that he made no other move than to tuck her more firmly into his side or nestle her head against his chest.

“Carwyn?” she whispered to him hours later.

“Yes, love?”

“Can I ask you to do something for me?”

“Of course.”

“When Anne gets back next month… When she comes back, I need you to leave again.”

His arms tightened around her and his voice was hoarse when he said, “Why?”

She steeled her resolve and picked her head up. “You know why.”

His brows furrowed together and he placed a hand on her cheek. “I want to help you.”

“But you know there are some things I have to do myself. You know this.”

She could see the resignation on his face, but his eyes still argued with her.

Brigid said, “I need to make myself better. For me. For you. For my future. I need to work on myself, so I’m not such a mess. So I can be good for you.” She saw him begin to argue, so she put a quick hand to his lips. “And for me. I have this new life stretched in front of me and a pit of human problems I need to sort out. I need to not worry that I’m going to hurt you in the process. So, what I’m asking for…” She leaned forward and placed soft lips over his heart. “Is time. If you love me, please give me time. We have it. An eternity of it, if you want. I’m only asking for a few months.”

He tilted her chin up so their eyes met. “Months?”

“I’ll be back in Dublin in January. Give me till then?”

“If you give me this month. Till Anne gets back in August, give me this month with you?”

She smiled. “If you’re willing to risk the fire.”

A fierce light flared in his eyes, and he grasped her around the waist, pulling her hard against his body as his mouth descended on hers. A keen edge came to his lips as they pressed against her own and a soft whimper escaped her throat as her temperature soared. Carwyn pulled back, panting, and placed his forehead against her own.

He whispered, “Love is as strong as fire.”

Book Three: The Seal

Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm;

for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyeilding as the grave.

It burns like a blazing fire, like a mighty flame.

Song of Solomon 8:6

Chapter Twenty-One

Dublin

March 2012

The news from Murphy was world-changing.

“We don’t know its name, but it is a drug targeted at immortals. We’re still learning more, but this could change everything if it does what it seems. I’m on the phone with every contact I have, but keep your ears tuned. I want to know what you’re hearing on the street. In the clubs. Everywhere that vampires gather.” Murphy’s voice was grim as he addressed the group. Tom, Declan, Jack, and Brigid were gathered in his office, having been called into a surprise visit as soon as they’d all arrived at the office that evening. None of the humans—not even Angie—were present.

Tom’s voice was quiet and calm. “What does it do, Murphy? What are the effects?”

“It seems to quell bloodlust.”

Brigid could see Declan sit up straight. “What, completely?” he asked.

“According to reports.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “What else?”

Declan said, “What else does there need to be?”

“There’s something else,” Brigid murmured. “There’s always something else.” A drug that would kill bloodlust and allow her to live more normally? As much as she liked the taste of human blood, a cure was ferociously attractive. Even as she’d gained control, it was a constant battle. A gust of wind passing by a human’s warm neck and she was right back to the mindless hunger of a newborn; even if she reined it in, it was there. Always. Calling her. Making her blood boil and her fangs drop. The idea of not feeling that hunger again was more seductive than the blissful oblivion heroin once provided.

Murphy said, “We’re not sure what else it does. It’s something that’s given to humans. Puts them in amazing health, from all reports. A kind of miracle cure. Heals wounds. Cures disease. And once a human takes it, the vampire feeds from them.”