by Kyla Riley
His stepmother idly glanced over him and looked directly at Daphne. Her wide smile revealed a pair of false vampire teeth. Inelegantly, she pulled them out of her mouth. Fiacha realized that Cairene was twisted in the head and beyond sick.
“I can’t talk with these things in,” Cairene explained. “How’s my little barmaid tonight?”
“On a scale of one to ten- I’m about an eleven right now on the freakster-scale. How did you get here? How did you find me?”
“Get out, ya witch,” Fiacha yelled, his anxious voice getting thick with a Scottish brogue. “Doona be bothering her. Yer not wanted here! Daphne! Go! I’ll protect ye.”
“I don’t believe in witches,” Daphne said flatly, looking at Cairene in a silent battle of wills. It was like two UFC fighters were standing off against each other. Perhaps Daphne actually could hold her own against the witch?
“Oh that’s rich!” Cairene giggled, smiling widely. “But you are willing to believe in vampires?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“My family is my business.”
“We’re not yer family, witch!” Fiacha yelled angrily. “Family doesna torture or abandon wee ones.”
“I didn’t torture or abandon you all. I gave you immortality… with a twist.”
“I dinna ken you asking if we wanted it.”
“Nonsense, Fiacha – and you are wasting time. Step aside.”
“No!”
“I won’t ask again,” Cairene growled, frowning at him. Suddenly Cairene’s hands flung forward, knocking both Fiacha and Daphne to the ground. Fiacha sat up quickly and then saw Cairene leaning over Daphne with a knife, slicing on her own fingertip.
A few droplets of blood welled up and Fiacha felt himself grow faint almost immediately in reaction. A knowing grin alit Cairene’s face as she stared at Daphne on the ground. Fiacha felt the room spinning and didn’t have time to be embarrassed about his irrational fears.
He was going to pass out.
“The young vampire gets woozy at the sight of blood. It makes me laugh every single time he faints,” Cairene explained just before everything went black for him. He didn’t even feel himself fall over onto the flooring again. Taking several deep breaths, he tried to pull himself together.
Keep your eyes averted- and just get over it, he said to himself. You have to do this to feed, this is no different. Get up, don’t look at it, and get out. You have to save Daphne from the witch!
“Daphne, let’s go,” Fiacha said weakly looking at the ceiling and breathing quickly. He knew he was white as a sheet from the sight of blood. As long as he didn’t look at the blood or Daphne, he might be okay. They would just need to get out and he wasn’t sure how he was going to do that quite yet. Cairene’s next words were so softly spoken that it chilled him to the bone.
“No, you are right where you need to be, Daphne.” Cairene smiled knowingly at them both and faded away. Fiacha shut his eyes in relief and tried to staunch the lightheadedness he felt.
“Let me wash my face so you…” Daphne’s voice faded away.
“Conn?”
“Go.” Fiacha whispered.
His brother’s face was nearly unrecognizable in the blank stare. His eerie eyes looked around unseeingly. His aquiline nose that reminded him of his father’s so long ago, crinkled for just a brief moment as he scented the air. He was searching for his prey.
This was the danger!
This was what Brion was warning him about! The violent rage ebbing from Conn was horrifying to witness, and he saw his sightless eyes. His brother had no comprehension of where he was at, only that he was back in the flesh.
And beyond hungry.
“Go. Now. He doesna know you right now.”
Conn sniffed the air again. Daphne’s concerned eyes met Fiacha’s only seconds before a pale blur attacked her. Fiacha couldn’t believe how fast his brother moved. His brother instinctively bit the woman he loved with a callousness that had him gasp in pain for her. Long canines sank down deep into her creamy neck.
“Conn, you’re hurting me, sweetie,” Daphne whispered, cradling his head. She smoothed his hair and held him. “I love you and will help you through this.”
Fiacha’s brother, Conn, reared back and bit her again. The moment that Daphne’s blood trailed down her neck against her stark white skin – he knew he was a goner. He heard roaring in his ears and then there was nothing.
* * *
“No, Daphne – no baby, please no. Sweetheart, no – wake up for me, honey. Please!” Fiacha heard Conn’s broken pleas and fearfully opened his eyes, knowing that there would be blood.
There was something so ragged in Conn’s voice, that he knew painfully that he’d let his brother down. He’d failed to look out for Daphne. He saw her pale, listless form lying across Conn’s lap as his brother cried. Red streaks ran from his eyes as he lashed out angrily at Fiacha.
“Fiacha! You were supposed to check on her, watch her – and now I’ve killed the only woman I’ve ever loved,” Conn chastised openly and angrily. His hopeless eyes stared at Daphne, smoothing back her dark hair from her grey face and pale bloodless lips.
“This is all wrong,” Conn whispered, kissing her cheeks. He kept grabbing her hand and trying to put it against his cheek, but it kept falling limply back to her side. She wasn’t there anymore. “Daph?”
“I’m going to be sick,” Fiacha whispered painfully as the door to the apartment opened. Brion walked in and yanked Fiacha up by the arm abruptly.
“Jesus, it looks like a slaughterhouse in here,” Brion told Conn bluntly.
“You could at least have been gentle with her. Brother, you have always been a force of nature in everything, and gone off at the slightest thing. The poor girl didn’t even fight you, did she?” Brion’s angry gaze focused on Fiacha and he felt another wave of shame wash over him.
Fiacha couldn’t help his phobias.
He’d been to doctors over the years, tried hypnotism and eye masks. Fiacha was one pathetic, screwed up, vampire… and now responsible for his brother’s dead girlfriend. His guilt and shame would know no bounds. There would be no place for him to hide and wait for Conn’s pain to fade away. He would never forget the silent accusation in Conn’s eyes.
“And you? Fiacha, I said to get her out so she had a fighting chance until my flight landed and we could have done this together so Daphne didn’t end up traumatized as she entered our world. I just saw that Conn would do this if he found her. He would not be able to resist her or fresh blood. Now, give Daphne your blood and fast.”
Fiacha glanced up at Brion in confusion and saw his brother was no longer talking to him, but staring at Conn. A desperate look of hope entered his brother’s dark brown eyes as he looked between Daphne and Brion. Fiacha felt like he was almost intruding on the man’s bared emotions. There was no hiding it, Conn loved Daphne and he would be inconsolable without her.
What would it be like to care for someone so deeply? He knew what pain felt like, the loneliness and lack of hope… but the sheer intensity in Conn’s eyes made Fiacha yearn for something he’d never dreamt of before… a soulmate.
Seeing his brother like this made him realize that he was the same on the inside. A torn, lost and broken man that only wanted love. That knowledge was a debilitating thing. Fiacha now realized just how empty he was inside and it was crushing. He felt like he was standing at the ledge of a terrifying abyss and losing ground. It was scary to think he could lose himself and any happiness in his future. He was lost.
“Fiacha, let’s go. They need to be alone.”
6
“I need your help.”
Fiacha waited painfully for Niall’s curiosity to overtake him. He adored his eldest brother; however, everything came with a price. For Niall, the strategist and leader, it meant knowing every detail. The man left no stone unturned when he was reaching out or after something. He was a keen, shrewd businessman that was now head-over-heels in love with the ki
ndest woman.
Holly.
Vanessa’s best friend.
He’d received a text from Brion that he was needed at an address on a specific date. Brion had always been evasive and creepy like that since the curse. No one knew the extent of his powers, just that he had them. They all knew Niall and Conn had received the brunt of the curse. Niall turned into a werewolf and Conn simply disappeared, turning into a ghost. Fiacha felt like he was left out since he was just normal… A.K.A. nothing special.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t really want to go into details and it’s stupid- but I need to know how to get in touch with Holly’s friend. The one from the wedding.” Brion had led him to the church and it had taken a few weeks to get over the pain from seeing Vanessa kiss her new husband.
Vanessa… Stallings.
Fiacha had felt betrayed.
It was like Brion knew of their moment at the bar and this was his punishment. A way to rub his nose in the fact that he had ruined a woman just before she was getting married. He’d felt guilty enough as it was, and that moment had been burning in his mind. Their kiss, her expressive features, and the sheer fear in her eyes when they’d looked at each other.
Fiacha was her guilty secret and by him showing up at the wedding, she was in jeopardy. He would never do that to her. That moment alone in the bar had given him a glimpse of paradise and he would not destroy her. He’d acknowledged her and turned around. He would not, could not, do this. He’d left her wedding and now he wanted what…?
To renew a relationship with a married woman?
To be the homewrecker he feared he was?
“Do you know what you are doing?” Niall asked gently. His voice wasn’t accusatory or questioning. It was more of an empathetic tone – like he understood what Fiacha couldn’t say.
“Yes. No,” he admitted. “I need to see her. I need to talk to her… to Vanessa. Does Holly have her contact information?”
“You can ask her.”
“No. It’s okay…” Fiacha stammered and then heard Holly’s guarded voice on the phone. This was a surprise he wasn’t expecting. Had something happened? Did she know about their tryst?
“Fi- why do you need to talk to Vanessa?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I have plenty of time. Why do you Cael men always say that it’s a long story? Seriously, family listens without judgement if you need to talk.”
“You know then?”
“Know what?” Holly asked curiously and then Fiacha heard her gasp.
“NO! Yes? Seriously? That was you? You were the kinky freak who rocked her world?” she screeched in the phone.
He yanked the phone away from his ear, thankful he wasn’t on FaceTime. His face was beet-red with mortification. Kinky freak? Niall’s laughter roared in the background and Fiacha wished the floor would open up right now. He thought about hanging up on Holly but he’d already come this far.
“There was nothing kinky about it!”
“Dude, a bathroom? Seriously?”
“It wasn’t kinky. Is that what she said?” he asked, embarrassed. If Vanessa thought badly of them being intimate, maybe he’d read things all wrong.
“If I give you her information- you have got to swear you won’t hurt her,” Holly growled protectively. “She’s been through a lot and… well, she’s been through hell since the wedding.”
“I don’t want to hurt her. Did something happen?” Fiacha asked fearfully.
He wanted to see her smile and simply hear her voice. He was desperate for a friend and hoped that maybe Vanessa could be the one for him- like Daphne was for Conn. His brother’s brief text that Daphne was alright three days later had made him nearly cry in relief. He didn’t want to be responsible for failing to protect her. Brion had tried to reassure him, but he’d been beyond listening.
“She will have to tell you. Why don’t you go see her, have a cup of coffee, and get it out of your system? Vanessa doesn’t need to be hurt again and you- Fiacha? You need to dial it down a notch, buddy. Sex doesn’t equate love, so don’t mistake the two.”
“You don’t hold back much, do you?”
“I hear that you didn’t hold back either,” Holly quipped, snickering. “Go. I think you both could use a person to talk to- and truly? I’d start there, Fi. Don’t press it.”
“Thank you.”
Fiacha wrote down an address only. He was bothered to hear that Vanessa didn’t have a phone number or email to reach out to. Apparently Holly only met her for dinner once since the wedding. This seemed odd since they were best friends. Maybe her husband was extremely controlling, or she was enjoying marital bliss? Did Russ Stallings beat his wife and that was why she never got out? Fiacha saw red at the idea of Vanessa being hurt and it shocked him at how possessive he was of a woman he barely knew.
* * *
Paranoia.
That was the only explanation Fiacha had when it came to him actually seeing Vanessa. He had her address. He knew where she was… yet he was terrified at what might be.
Something was seriously wrong and he knew it deep in his soul. Russ Stallings was filthy rich – as well as Vanessa’s father. So why on earth was she living in a tiny one-bedroom apartment on a seedier side of town? It was clean, well-lit, but he knew at night the area was full of drug dealers and homeless people. He’d hunted there before, several times, and had never seen Vanessa there.
The first time he’d glimpsed her, his heart swelled in happiness. He had spent the last three days simply watching her building and feeding the parking meter. She was a mystery and apparently alone… confusing him to no end.
Vanessa was as beautiful as he’d remembered. Her long dark hair flowed behind her and was partially hidden under a cheap knit beanie she wore. She had on green scrub pants and had a tan long coat pulled tightly around her, outlining her frame. He remembered her lithe body and was instantly concerned that she was walking the street alone. It was daylight, so she should be alright… but why wasn’t she driving? Where was she going?
Fiacha got out of his car and locked it. He tugged up his coat in an effort to hide himself and keep warm in the cool air. It was breezy today and it cut right through his clothing, so he knew she had to be chilled by the cooler temperatures as well. He walked several blocks behind her as to avoid being seen. He knew he had it bad for her and it seemed almost forbidden.
The woman belonged to another man.
He was tempting himself and fate by even being here. Part of him knew he shouldn’t be following her, yet another part of him couldn’t let her out of his sight. As she entered a building, he ducked into a building and found himself face-to-face with a room full of women getting their hair done at a salon. He lamely excused himself and bought a bottle of shampoo to keep from behind chased out.
As he paid, he glanced out the window several times to see what kind of office it was. There was very little signage other than some letters that were too small to read from here. This city block seemed to be full of a variety of stores. Salons, coffee shops, tattoo parlors and thrift shops.
“You lookin’ for someone, honey?” the woman casually asked him, and he felt himself blush as several others in the room began to call out innuendos. He knew he looked young, but it was almost comical that he was old enough to be their distant great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather.
“Aye, there are too many lovely ladies to choose from,” he grinned, and hurriedly left. Stepping out on the street, he was suddenly struck with an idea. He walked further down and stepped into a coffee shop. Placing an order, he walked back towards the office and paled as he got closer to the door that Vanessa had stepped into.
North Texas Hemoglobin and Plasma Clinical Laboratory.
Fiacha felt himself swallow hard and almost turned away from the frosted glass doorway. Vanessa was inside of there but why? Was she donating blood or did she work there? Could she have a blood-borne disease that he hadn’t noticed…
or did he cause it? The odds of him seeing blood inside of there was extremely high – which meant that his chance of fainting like a fool was almost parallel in degree. If he passed out due to his phobia, he would be mortified. His man-card would get punched like a time-clock.
click-click!
Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes, and opened the door. He blindly stepped inside and cracked open one eye fearfully. His breath slipped out in a rush as he saw the waiting area and walled-off area to check in. No blood. The irony of a phobic vampire and his lady love working in a blood bank was not lost on him. Walking up to the glass, he waited politely while the gray-haired woman slid open the glass.
“I hate to bother you, but could you give this to Vanessa Stallings?” he said politely and handed over the small paper bag, as well as the cup of coffee.
“Stallings? We have a Vanessa Stafford that works here. Do you have the right location?” she asked curiously, her hand perched on the window glass in order to slide it shut once again.
“No, it’s Stafford. I simply forgot,” he chuckled weakly and smiled, hoping the woman didn’t realize that he was lying through his teeth. He almost jumped for joy that her last name wasn’t Stallings- but immediately he had questions. “Could you give this to her and just tell her it’s from a friend.”
“You can give it to her, if you like? I will ring her up here to the desk.”
“No, that’s not necessary,” Fiacha stammered, thinking that he would have to face his fears if he walked back into the offices or laboratory. One step at a time, he thought. It was like the first time he had to feed himself, he’d done so at night and found that if he didn’t look… he was able to do the deed.
Satisfied that he made the first step in trying to kindle a friendship, he quickly backed away from the receptionist window and exited the building. He briskly walked down the street towards his car, knowing that this was the right thing to do. For the first time in months, Fiacha felt himself smiling happily.
