Building From Ashes (39 page)

“No word so far. I had to send a messenger, of course. And there’s no telling where she is.”

Beatrice asked, “Do you think she’s heard of the manuscript?”

“If she has, she’s never mentioned it.”

Carwyn ears perked up. He heard Beatrice’s nephew, Benjamin, calling from downstairs that she was needed.

“Better go.” She kissed his cheek before walking to Lucian and patting him on the shoulder and darting out of the room. “He’s a bit lost without Gio.”

So was she, but Carwyn didn’t mention it. He wondered whether Brigid would ever worry about him the same way that Beatrice worried about Giovanni.

“They’re still looking for a book,” he heard Lucien muse.

“What?” Carwyn turned his attention back to the other vampire. “Of course they are. That’s what we need to find, isn’t it?”

He was waving a hand. “Forget the manuscript. This is far bigger than one book now. Far, far bigger. They’ve made copies. I know Livia. She’s made copies of copies if she thinks it’s valuable. Which means that it’s also been stolen by someone by now. If information is valuable, then it will be stolen. It’s practically part of natural law.”

“So this drug—”

“Finally!” Lucien threw up his hands. “Someone calls it what it is.”

“A drug?”

“It
is
a drug! Not the elixir of life. For some reason, that was annoying me. Give things their proper names. Elixir implies that it’s a cure of some kind. And it’s not. Well…” He frowned and shook his head. “It’s a kind of cure, in a way…”

Carwyn frowned as Lucien drifted off. It was odd. His manner. His way of speaking. Something about Lucien spoke of confusion, which was unheard of. Immortal minds were sharp. More than even the brightest humans, the increased electricity that their bodies generated spurred faster processing, better memories, and far better reflexes. All that Lucien seemed to be lacking.

“Pomegranates,” Lucien whispered as he stared into the cold fireplace. “Did I tell you she smelled of pomegranates? Like fruit ripe in the sun, Carwyn. Do you remember that smell? And the smell of sunshine? Even with the sickness, she still smelled so sweet. Tasted… She tasted like the sweetest honey.”

Was Lucien talking about his lover? The one he had drunk from? “What are you talking about?”

“Silly me,” he whispered. “It felt so good at first.”

Alarm was beginning to grow in Carwyn’s chest. “Are you talking about this drug? How it made you feel? I thought you felt unwell.”

“Now I do. But at first…” Lucien’s eyes glowed. “Drinking her blood made me feel like a god.”

Vatican City

June 2012

Arturo was running late. But then, this was a last-minute meeting that Carwyn had called, so he couldn’t really blame the human. He wasn’t dressed in his clerical uniform this time. He wore black jeans and a black T-shirt with sturdy boots. He hadn’t shaved in months, and the slow-growing stubble cast a dark shadow on his face. He knew he looked like one of Terry’s ruffians, but the grim colors reflected the mood he was in.

He’d be leaving Rome soon. Beatrice had come up with a plan that was going to plunge him into more danger than he’d ever faced in his long life. He and Giovanni would have to find two vampires who were supposed to have died hundreds of years before. The fiercest kings of the ancient world. It was so far from his quiet mountain home it was laughable. The plan was madness—sheer, utter madness.

But it was the only way to learn the absolute truth about the origins of this drug.

If he survived, he was grabbing hold of Brigid Connor and never letting go.

The Spaniard bustled into the room shortly after Carwyn sat down. He placed several files on his desk, shuffling them around as Carwyn watched.

“Now,” Arturo said, “as I expected, this has all been routine. There will be a few things to sign, but permission of the Holy Father has already been granted. Privately, I can say that you have his sincere blessing and thanks for your long service to the church. Some of the Cardinals are unhappy, but as you haven’t officially existed since the tenth century, they can’t say much, can they?”

“Wait!” His heart had begun pounding as soon as Arturo opened his mouth.

‘…routine… permission granted…’

It was an odd feeling. Carwyn felt lost and found all at once. “So, it’s official? I’m not a priest anymore?”

For better or worse, the Catholic Church had been his home for over a thousand years. It had given him purpose. Had offered an unchanging bedrock in a constantly changing world. Though release was what he wanted, a corner of his heart still grieved.

Arturo straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin proudly. “You will always be a priest in your heart. It is part of your soul. ‘You are a priest forever, like Melchizedek of old.’ The church is only releasing you from your vows. The only responsibility you have is to hear the penitence of the dying. That will always be your blessing and your burden.”

He took a deep breath. A priest forever… but released from his obligations to the church. Free to live as he chose. Free to devote himself to his family and friends. Free to love the woman who had become so precious to him.

Free.

“Thank you, Arturo.”

“Thank
you
. Now, what is this meeting really about? We were not scheduled to meet until next week. I was surprised when you called.”

“I will be leaving Rome shortly, and there are matters happening among my kind that I wish to speak to you about.”

“Is it this so-called ‘Elixir of Life?’”

Carwyn cocked his head and smiled. “One of these days, I’ll figure out where you get your information, human.”

Arturo shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. An enigmatic smile flickered on his lips. “Where do you think I get it? I’m sure you can make a decent guess.”

Carwyn narrowed his eyes and thought. How many immortal priests or nuns were scattered around the globe, intimately involved with their communities? Hundreds? Thousands? How many more vampires like him who retained strong ties to the church? How many did Arturo speak to on a regular basis?

He mused, “No wonder you made this easy for me. You want me to stay in contact. You want to use me for information.”

“Of course I do.” Arturo leaned forward. “We have great resources. Chief among them is our people. And misconception. How many of the more unsavory characters in the immortal world believe the nonsense about being demons and rejected by God? How many more dismiss the Church as no longer having any influence in matters of state? My office is quiet and efficient. We have a mission to promote God’s kingdom. To keep the Church and its flock—mortal
and
immortal—safe. I will use any and all resources at my disposal to do that. I think you understand my mission. I think you approve of it. So why don’t you tell me why you were wearing such a thunderous expression when I first walked into the room? Why don’t you tell me the real story behind this ‘elixir’ and why I’m beginning to hear mention of it from various corners of the globe?”

“Which corners?”

Arturo took a deep breath. “Russia. Eastern Europe. A rumor in India. Whispers in the Eastern church.”

“Lorenzo has been producing it in Bulgaria.”

The Spaniard raised an eyebrow. “Do you truly think that is the extent of this madness? One plant?”

His breath caught. “Of course. There’s more, isn’t there? There has to be.”

“What I know about Lorenzo tells me that he is all about profit,” said Arturo. “Livia is about power. But profit trumps power, and Livia is
not
Lorenzo’s only backer. We don’t know who, but we’re quite sure of that. The elixir is being produced elsewhere.”

“Can it be contained?”

“I don’t think so. Perhaps if we understood it more, but we don’t. Two things have been my priorities: finding out what is does and how it can be detected. For humans and vampires both. We know the formula is given to humans who then give blood to vampires, but what are the effects? We’re getting mixed reports, and nothing like this has been seen as far as I know.”

How much could he tell the human? Carwyn weighed his options and decided that Arturo was a worthy ally.

“Currently, my people don’t know much more than you do. We know that it does appear to heal humans who take it, but there are side effects for vampires.”

“What side effects?”

Carwyn crossed his arms and laid out what he knew. “The first side effects are an immediate cure for bloodlust—”

“Not a bad thing.”

“—and increased strength. I suspect elemental power, too.”

Arturo grimaced. “That is somewhat frightening, considering all the power you already have. All humanitarian arguments aside, why would this be a concern to vampires? Those are all positives for you.” The priest narrowed his eyes. “You said the
first
side effects—”

“The negative effects come later. Increased sleep. Mental confusion. Lost time.”

“Lost time?”

“Fugue states that seem to strike out of nowhere.”

Arturo’s eyes gleamed. “Now that could be very, very dangerous for those who cannot survive sunlight.”

“Indeed. We’re attempting to learn more. You might contact Lucien Thrax while he’s still in Rome. He has taken it and is suffering the consequences.”

The Spaniard sat up and straightened his shoulders. “The physician? I will do that. For now, I will alert my people that this elixir—”

“It’s a drug, Arturo. Call it what it is.”

He nodded. “Fine. This
drug
is harmful, and they should avoid it. The problem, of course, is how? If a human has already taken this drug, they are a walking poison for your kind. A danger to the those who would drink from them, or kill them because of the threat. There has to be some way of detecting it. We just don’t know what it is.”

Carwyn sighed and closed his eyes. “Then I suppose I have my new mission.”

“I suppose you do.”

~~~

Plovdiv, Bulgaria

July 2012

Dear Brigid,

We’ve learned more about the elixir, but it doesn’t sound good. Keep on your guard; this had the potential to be very dangerous. I know that you prefer feeding from human donors, but please consider drinking animal blood until I can find out more. We must learn how to detect this drug in humans. Otherwise, any of us could drink it without being aware, and the side effects are beginning to sound more and more severe the more we learn.

Giovanni and I are leaving Rome to try to find more answers. I may not be able to write for some time. I’ll contact you as soon as I get back to Dublin. I don’t want to say too much in a letter. (Also, Bulgaria is beautiful. We should consider coming here for our honeymoon.)

I miss you. I think of you every day. Pray for our safety.

Love, Carwyn

P.S. Would you consider going to Wicklow and fetching Madoc? I’m fairly sure the dog is miserable without me there. Sinead may have mentioned it once or twenty times to Deirdre.

P.P.S. I just realized my dog is going to share your bed before I do. Lucky mongrel.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Dublin

October 2012

Brigid opened the door. Deirdre stood with her hand raised to knock, seemingly startled to be caught in the act.

“Hello,” Brigid said.

“Hello.”

There was an awkward pause. “Am I supposed to call you ‘Mother’ now?”

Deirdre snorted and pushed into the house. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m hardly the most maternal person, and you’ve never wanted a mum.”

“You’re back from Rome.”

“I am.”

Deirdre had been called away months before to help Carwyn and his friends in Rome. She’d been back for weeks, but had stopped in London and Wicklow before coming to Dublin.

A smile lifted the corner of Deirdre’s mouth as she angled past Brigid and slipped down the hallway. “Thanks for inviting me in.”

“So, you got the letter from Murphy?” She turned to watch Deirdre standing in her small living room, examining it. For some reason, the perusal of her sire made her nervous. It was the first time Deirdre had been to her home. “The letter, did you get it?”

“I did. That’s why I came back from Italy.” Then she muttered under her breath, “That, and an annoying Scot.”

Brigid frowned. “Is there any—?”

“No news.” Deirdre turned and looked with haunted eyes. “Nothing since Istanbul.”

Brigid nodded. For months, she’d received letters from Carwyn. Silly letters with stories to make her laugh. Serious letters filled with warnings and information about the drug they were investigating. Long, loving letters filled with sweet words that made her sigh. And every letter just made her fall further in love with him.

Brigid bit her lip nervously. “My last letter was from Istanbul, too.”

Deirdre cocked her head and smiled. “He’ll be fine. He’s with Gio, and no one’s more dangerous when his friends or family are threatened.”

“So I’ve heard.” Still didn’t make her feel much better. She’d rather be the one starting fires.

Deirdre roamed about the room, examining her books and the art on the walls. “Father’s very close-mouthed about your relationship. I have to confess to being very curious.”

“We’re…”
In love. Involved.
Dating was too silly a word and it wasn’t as if they’d gone out for drinks and a show. What did Carwyn call it again?

Brigid cleared her throat. “He says he’s ‘courting’ me. I don’t really know what that means, but I’m fairly certain the church would frown on it.”

Deirdre looked like she was about to burst out laughing. “Is that so? Well, good luck to him. I very much doubt the church is going to have much say in the matter, so the next time you see him, tell him—as your sire—I’m demanding at least two dozen sheep for you and a stout draft horse.”