Building From Ashes (45 page)

She snorted. “We weren’t courting that whole time. We were… friends. Good friends. And then, we were more.”

He laughed in her ear. Leaning down, he whispered, “Silly Brigid. Love
is
friendship. Just with less clothes, which makes it far more brilliant.”

Carwyn took her out to the garden after they’d fed, the cool earth cradling them and heightening their pleasure as they made love under the stars. Brigid decided she was glad she’d purchased a house with a very high hedge. Finally, they rested, and Carwyn brought a blanket from the living room to shield them as they both lay on the soft grass.

“Tell me about your friend,” he urged softly.

She’d told him that Emily had taken the elixir. He was concerned, but she could also see the curiosity in his eyes. Brigid felt his arm wrap around her more securely. “Axel—her boyfriend—gave it to her. I think he was the one who was working with Lorenzo on the heroin before.”

“I remember that. But you said he didn’t have the smarts for it.”

“I must have been wrong. Because once Ioan was killed, when Lorenzo’s heroin operation was halted, things settled down. Then, there were the rumors. And right about the time you left for Rome, Elixir started showing up. I think he used the same distribution network. The same clubs and dealers. He gave it to her over a year ago. And I saw him at the same club where she was. He has to be the connection.”

“It sounds like it was around the same time that Lucien drank from Rada.”

“Who?”

He cleared his throat. “Ioan’s friend. The doctor? He had a research assistant—an old lover—who had cancer. She was dying, and Lorenzo showed up in Eastern Europe with a miracle. After she’d been healed, Lucien drank from her. He was elated at first. Thought he had healed Rada and conquered bloodlust all at the same time. Then he started losing time. His mind became hazy.

“It affected his amnis. Damaged it.”

“Yes. Most of us—older vampires especially—rebel against the thought. We’ve all become accustomed to thinking of our amnis as this impenetrable shield. Nothing can harm it. It’s what protects our minds. Lets us control the elements. That’s why we have to feed from humans or animals. It’s the energy in their blood. It’s more than just the physical substance; it’s mortal energy we feed on, Brigid.”

“Almost like it recharges our batteries,” she mused. “That makes sense. And the elixir breaks it. Disrupts the flow of the current, like our wiring becomes twisted.”

He paused. “That’s a very good way of putting it. Maybe it’s easier for younger vampires who grew up around technology to understand. Was Emily sick when Axel gave her the drug?”

She shook her head. “No, but she’d just come off drugs. Her health had taken a hit from years of use, and then she went through withdrawal. She said…” Brigid felt her voice grow thick with emotion. “Axel told her that it would make her healthy and beautiful again. Even though she wasn’t ill, she took it.”

“Vanity?”

“Maybe a little. She loved him and she thought the elixir would let her stay with him forever.”

“Poor thing,” he murmured.

“Her health was already damaged, but now she can’t seem to digest anything. She’s starving to death, but her body rejects all nutrition.”

He paused, and Brigid glanced over her shoulder. “It’s exactly the same as what happens to vampires. Those who are affected can’t feed their amnis with blood. And the human body can’t retain the nutrients that it needs, either. The elixir starves both the human body and the vampire mind.”

“And you haven’t found a way to detect it.”

She could tell he was frustrated. “Not yet. We haven’t had many humans that we
know
are infected. We can’t run tests on it. It’s too dangerous. And those humans we do know about are very ill. I tried to get Lucien to share more information about Rada, but it was hard to talk to him after a while. He just kept going on about her scent and how good she smelled.”

A memory pricked her mind. “How good she smelled?”

“Yes, he said she smelled… sweet. Sweeter than she had in the past.”

“Like fruit…” Brigid whispered, and her heart began to race. “She smelled like ripe fruit, didn’t she?”

Carwyn’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. Like… what was it?” He blinked and he sat up next to her. “Pomegranates. He said she smelled like
pomegranates
. Did Emily—”

“That’s it! I remember thinking when I met her last spring that she smelled delicious, but I’d never seen her as a vampire before. I thought it was just her natural scent. But she smelled like fruit. Something distinctive, but I couldn’t quite place it. It was pomegranates, Carwyn. Why…” Her forehead furrowed in confusion. “Why would she smell like pomegranates?”

Carwyn rose and pulled her up by the arm, tugging her into the house. They pulled on clothes as he ran his fingers through his hair, thinking. “The elixir was made by plant alchemy developed in the Middle East during the ninth century. I’ll bet you that one of the main ingredients is pomegranate.”

“What’s so special about pomegranates?”

“I have no idea.” He stopped in the living room, scanning her bookcases. “Do you have any books about gardening? Botanical… mythology?”

She blinked at him. “Do I look like a gardener?”

“Aargh! Why don’t I have Gio or Beatrice here? They’re both walking encyclopedias about things like this.”

“Can you call them?”

He cocked his head. “I can try. What time is it?”

“Four in the morning.”

“They’ll be awake. Phone?”

She pointed toward the kitchen where her phone lived. She followed Carwyn and sat at the table as he paced and tried to connect. She could hear the ringing on the other line before a woman picked up.

“Hello?”

He punched the button for the speakerphone. “B! How are you, darling girl? I need your help with something.”

“Carwyn… where are you?”
The voice was American. This had to be Giovanni’s wife, Beatrice. Brigid felt strangely nervous. She’d met much of Carwyn’s family, but these were his friends.

“I’m in Dublin, and you’re on speaker phone.”

“Who else is there? Is it Deirdre? Hi, Deirdre!”

“No…” Carwyn rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s… um, it’s Brigid.”

The woman’s excited yelp traveled across the Atlantic, and Brigid’s eyes widened.

“Brigid! You’re with
Brigid
? Gio!”

She could hear the sound of something being thrown across the room. It sounded like fluttering. A book? A low voice with an Italian accent came over the line.

“Why are you throwing paperbacks, Tesoro?”

“It’s Carwyn! He’s on the phone… with
Brigid
.”

“The mysterious Brigid? Father, you have some explaining to do. She’s been going on and on about this for months now.”

She hid her face in her hands. What had he told them about her? She could hear her husband snickering across the room and she picked up an apple and tossed it at his head. He ducked and burst into laughter.

“What did you say about me?” she hissed.

Beatrice’s voiced jumped out.
“He didn’t say
anything
about you! I tried and tried—once, he let your name slip, but—”

“Brigid, by any chance, was Carwyn writing you letters last fall? Because he was being very secretive about—”

“Hush! Both of you.” Carwyn chuckled and dodged another apple that almost tagged him in the ear. “Gio, does your wife throw things at you? Because mine throws fruit with amazing accuracy, and I just want to know if this is typical behavior.”

Stunned silence filled the room, and Brigid felt the almost irresistible urge to hide under the table.

“Um… she tends to throw books at me. Mass market paperbacks, mostly. And I avoid her when she’s reading Tolstoy.”

“Good to know.”

Another long silence filled the room, until Brigid heard sniffing. She looked around in alarm. “Who’s crying?”

He closed his eyes and bit his lip to keep from laughing. “It’s B,” he whispered. “Don’t worry. She’s a bit of a weeper.”

“Oh, no.” These were some of Carwyn’s closest friends, and they were probably going to hate her for—

“You got
married
? I’m so happy for you! I can’t wait to meet her. When are you coming to America? We have to meet her! Why isn’t she talking? Is she still there?”
A quick pause…
“I can’t believe you didn’t even tell us, Carwyn!”

He leaned toward the phone. “Turnabout is fair play, Mrs. Vecchio. Besides, we
just
got married. And it’s not actually the reason we were calling. We need your brains, please.”

Someone cleared their throat on the other line.
“So… what? You were just going to skip over this little bit of news until the next time we—”

“Beatrice…”
The low murmur came from Giovanni.
“Later,”
he whispered.
“Carwyn, Brigid, what can we help you with?”

Brigid took a deep breath, pleased to be talking about murderous plots and conspiracies again. “What can you tell us about pomegranates?”

“Pomegranates?”

“Yes, we think the elixir may be produced using pomegranates, and we might be able to detect it in humans using the scent.”

There was a long pause; then Beatrice’s somber voice filled the room.
“They’re still making it, aren’t they?”

Carwyn said, “Yes.”

Brigid heard two sighs.

“After everything we did…”

Giovanni said quietly,
“We tried to tell the truth about it. Why didn’t they listen?”

“Greed,” Brigid said. “A willingness to exploit the weakness of others. They’ll justify it to themselves any way they can.”

“It’s a poison.”

“It’s a drug. And when I was human, I took drugs even though I knew they could kill me. Never underestimate the power of delusion.”

“We’re not going to stop it,” Carwyn said. “Our best bet is to learn how to detect it and hopefully find a cure.”

“And you think pomegranates might have something to do with it?”

“With detection, at least. We know of two elixired humans who both smelled distinctly of pomegranates.”

There was a pause, then the sound of movement on the other line. Giovanni spoke.
“I believe that one of the ingredients in the elixir was pomegranate. Beatrice and Dez have the manuscript, and Dez has been trying to find someone here who might be able to research it further. Unfortunately, there aren’t many experienced alchemists in Southern California.”

“Brigid,”
Beatrice said.
“There’s a lot of mythology and symbolism related to pomegranates, so I’ll just give you the highlights. They’re Persian. Very ancient. Some think the fruit Adam and Eve ate in the Garden of Eden was actually a pomegranate.”

“Not an apple?” Carwyn chuckled and bit into one of the fruits she’d tossed at him.

“No. In Greek mythology, they’re associated with death. Persephone was tricked into eating pomegranate by Hades and doomed to live in the Underworld. There are lots of stories, but there are health benefits, too.”

“Oh?”

“Pomegranates have been used in medieval remedies and folk medicine throughout Asia and the Mediterranean for hundreds—maybe thousands—of years.”

“And now they’re being used to weaken vampires and kill humans,” Brigid whispered. “Like Emily.”

Another silence filled the room, and Carwyn walked to her, lifting her up and cradling her in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, love.”

She blinked back tears and nodded. “Beatrice, Gio, thank you so much for the help. Carwyn’s right. You two really are walking encyclopedias.”

Brigid heard Giovanni’s low laugh.
“You’re more than welcome. It sounds like you two are busy, but keep in touch. And whenever you’re able, please, come visit. We’d love to meet you, Brigid. And we’ll even put up with Carwyn if we must.”

Brigid snorted. “Thanks. It was nice to speak to you both.”

“It’s nice to finally know who Carwyn’s mystery woman is,”
Beatrice shouted.

Carwyn sat at the table and she perched in his lap. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

“Give me a couple hundred years, and I’ll think about letting you off the hook. Bye, Father!”

“Um…” Didn’t they know? She had assumed that Carwyn would tell them. “Carwyn, did you…”

There was a scuffle of voices on the other end.

“You know he’s not a—”

“I forgot! I’ve called him that the entire time I’ve known—”

“It might bother his wife to hear him called ‘Father.’ If I can get out of the habit—”

“Don’t use the professor voice on me, Gio.”

Carwyn interrupted the quietly escalating argument. “Good-bye, both of you. We’ll talk to you soon.” Then he clicked off the phone without another word.

“So…” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“They seem nice.”

He grinned. “They’re going to love you.”

“You really didn’t tell anyone about me?” She didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Oh,” he said. “I let your name slip once and B grabbed onto it. But… I didn’t know where we stood then, and I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

Her heart hurt at his rare show of vulnerability, and she leaned on his shoulder. “I’m sorry we separated without you knowing how I felt.”

Carwyn hugged her tightly. “I know now.”

She twisted their fingers together as she glanced out the window. The sky was starting to lighten. They’d spent the whole night either making love or talking about a deadly elixir. Brigid had a sneaking suspicion that she’d just had a glimpse of her foreseeable future. “There’s no telling where all this is leading. And it’s going to be impossible to stop it.”

“I know.”

She sighed. “And if my time with Murphy has taught me anything, it’s that immortals aren’t the most cooperative bunch. Your friends excepted, of course.”