She tilted her head and looked at him. Perhaps he really did have a bad day. Lord knew she’d had those herself. She thought of the day she first met Grant. Everybody had a bad day now and then. Cut him some slack. “Okay, maybe when I get back.”
“That’s all I ask,” he said.
Ana walked up. “Hello.” She gave Cianán a once over.
“Ana, this is Cianán,” Kylie said.
Ana nodded subtly, turning her attention to Cianán. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cianán.”
“The pleasure is moine, Ana. I remember seein’ you the evenin’ Kylie an’ I met.” He took her hand and kissed it.
Ana blinked. Cianán’s eyes glinted with a red sunset glow. Kylie figured it for the actual sunset hitting his eyes, but it was an odd effect.
“Of course. You’re the one who chased Rob away . . . Oh, I’m sorry, Kylie.”
“It’s okay, and I chased Rob away,” she corrected.
Cianán chuckled. “I’ll leave you two to your girls’ night. I just came by to wish Kylie a safe trip.”
“That was very nice of you, wasn’t it, Kylie?” Ana arched her brow before turning back to Cianán. “I wish I was going to Ireland with her.”
Kylie elbowed Ana, and Ana threw a questioning glance.
“You’re goin’ to my homeland?”
Kylie nodded.
“I’ll be headin’ there eventually. If you’re still there, perhaps I could meet ye an’ show you things that aren’t on any tour. It’s best to have a native guide ye through the Emerald Isle.”
I already have a guide. She smiled brightly. “I’m sure it is.” Go away already.
He abruptly turned to Ana. “Ana, t’was a pleasure to meet ye.” He kissed the back of her hand again and smiled at Kylie. “Kylie, I do hope ye have a safe trip.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I hope to see you soon.”
“Bye,” Kylie and Ana said in unison. Ana watched him from the doorway. Kylie walked into the house, and Ana followed.
“He doesn’t seem all that bad. Quite the gentleman.” She shut the door behind her.
Kylie blocked her path further in the house. “Why did you tell him where I was going? I didn’t want him to know.”
“You’re overreacting just a little, don’t you think?”
“No!”
“He seems like a really nice guy, Ky—”
“You didn’t hear him on the phone!”
“Come on, Kylie, he’s not Rob. He doesn’t seem like he wants to hurt you.”
“And you’re such a great judge of character? After you met Rob, you didn’t believe it when I told you he’d hit me, simply because he was a hot guy. Do you remember that? It took a while to get through that thick skull—”
“Maybe you’re just wishing you heard something because of this Grant guy.”
Ana threw Kylie into a stupor. She hadn’t thought of Grant being the reason she was indirectly, or even directly rude to Cianán. She met Cianán first, but spent most of her weekend with Grant. She’d only had dinner with Cianán, and it was a lovely evening. She was still mad at Ana for telling him, though.
“All right, you win, for now. Maybe you’re right, but it isn’t going to change the way I feel about Grant.”
“Fine, but remember, you don’t know him all that well, either. Speaking of which, where are you staying in Ireland?”
Kylie grinned.
Ana rolled her eyes. “Do you really think you should? Like I said, you don’t know him that well—”
“And you’ve never spent the night with a man you didn’t know?”
“That’s not the point, and that’s an entirely different situation. You’re going to be staying with him, in his house, and you’ll be in a country you’ve never been to. What if something were to happen?”
“I get the point, Mom. I’m sure he has a phone. I’ll have you know he was a perfect gentleman all weekend. You don’t know how he makes me feel. When he touches me, I get this feeling I’ve never felt before. It’s like we belong together.”
Ana stared at her, and finally smiled. “Fine.”
“So can we drop it now? I mean, you haven’t met him yet. You can’t judge what kind of person he is.”
“I’ll give you that one. I won’t be able to get through to you otherwise.”
Kylie smiled. “Besides, I can always stay at a Bed & Breakfast. They have some really nice ones there.”
Ana nodded. “So, what are we doing tonight?”
“Packing,” Kylie said with a laugh.
“Oh, very funny. No, really?”
“You think I’m joking? You’ll see,” she said, and turned on her heel to head down the hall.
* * * * *
“Are you crazy?” Danny shouted and slammed his fist on the desk after his sister finished explaining her idea.
Dana Yang smiled at her brother, Daniel Yin. He’s cute when he’s like this. She probably looked that way when she was upset too. “Of course I am. Look at what I do for a living.” She paused for a moment, and smiled again. “I guess that makes you crazy too, huh?”
“No, it doesn’t. I’m the computer geek, remember? I’m not crazy, just wired.” He tapped at the keyboard. She laughed and he looked up at her. “I just don’t understand, why do you have to be the one to do this?”
“You know why.”
He nodded. “Grandfather, I know, but—”
“Danny, please don’t try to talk me out of this. I didn’t come all the way back to California to have you lecture me. I could’ve just gone straight to Ireland. You know this is something I have to do . . . and not just for Grandfather, but Mako as well.”
He looked at her, puzzled by her statement. “But I thought you found the one who killed Mako?”
“I did, but I think Cianán created her. That’s my whole point, Danny. That’s why I think she was talking about him. No, I know she was.”
He looked down and scratched the side of his head. His hair fell into his face. It was a short cut, long at the top and parted in the center, so it always fell forward. He ran his fingers through the sleek black strands, pushed his glasses back into place, and stared at the computer screen.
The colorful three-dimensional earth map he’d created for tracking the vampyres revolved slowly, showing blinking red dots of the ones they’d found but not yet exterminated. Danny watched North America go by a few times before pulling his eyes away.
Danny’s eyes stopped on her face, the face of his Ni, as he liked to call her. It was his way of reminding her she was second born. “You know I have a hypothesis that Cianán may have created them all, but that’s not confirmed yet. I can’t find the evidence to support it. Do you really think he’s up to a full-on blood ritual?”
She nodded. “I know it. That has to be what Shealynn meant.”
“ For what? What’s he thinking?”
“He’s insane.” She laughed. “More so than we are. Being around for a couple of millennia will do that to you. Y2K, you know?”
He didn’t laugh at the joke, just stared. And he was right not to laugh; it wasn’t funny, especially considering his twin sister was talking about going up against an extremely powerful vampyre and sorcerer—one who killed every slayer that’d gone after him. So far, Dana was the only one to survive a confrontation with him.
And man, was that a close call.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to be the one—”
“Yes I do. Are you forgetting I’m the only person who can track him? Danny, I’ve been after him for a long time. This time I’ll be ready.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t die the last time.”
“I know, but I wasn’t prepared for it.” She lowered her head for a moment and thought about her last confrontation with Cianán. She should have been dead and couldn’t believe she lived through it. He’d beaten her up pretty bad. He was about to kill her when another voice entered the room; a voice that constantly appeared in her dreams. She didn
’t recognize the voice from anyplace other than that day. She never saw the owner’s face. She fell in and out of consciousness. Whoever the strange man was, he’d saved her life that day. She wished she could thank him for it.
Maybe that’s the problem Shealynn was talking about. Another slayer, perhaps? I’m going to have to meet this man.
* * * * *
At Kylie’s house that evening, she and Ana sat down to watch a movie. Cianán watched them from afar. Kylie’s house sat on a hilltop. He saw it just fine from a neighboring hill. He watched the giggling and conversation, but the discussion changed by the expressions on their faces.
He moved closer and observed them from a skylight window. They weren’t doing much aside from girl talk . . . and popcorn throwing. He’d hoped to learn something more of her trip with Grantlund. He tried to come up with a plan to steal her away from the traitor once she was in Ireland. He’d already contacted Conor to arrange his travel plans and begin preparing everything.
He shifted his weight. A small piece of ceramic tile released from one of the large shingles and skittered down the roof.
“Did you hear that?” Kylie looked at Ana and scanned the room.
“Hear what?”
Click . . . Clickety-click . . . CLACK
Damn it. There went a bigger one.
“That,” Kylie said.
“What was it?”
“I don’t know. It sounds kind of like something’s on the roof, doesn’t it?” She looked out the window.
“Do you think we should check?”
“I’m not going out there.”
“Oh, I thought it was just the movie.” Ana flung a piece of popcorn at Kylie.
“That has nothing to do with it. If there’s something on the roof, I don’t want to know what it is.”
“So send the dog. That’s what she’s here for.”
She looked at Tobak. Her head was up, ears positioned for listening, and head cocked to the side as though she definitely heard something. “Nah, she’s not moving. It was probably a bat or something.”
“A bat?”
“Yes, they’re all over the place out here. You didn’t know that?”
“No,” Ana said, looking at her wide-eyed.
Kylie smiled. “Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you.”
“I still think you should go out there.” Ana gave her a slight push on the arm.
“Nope, I’m staying right here.”
“Chicken,” Ana said.
“Girl, don’t even go there. You don’t know what else could be out there.”
“Then pass the popcorn, bitch.”
“Bitch? If you think I’m giving you my popcorn now, you can just forget it.” She laughed and pulled the bowl closer.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” Ana apologized with a smirk.
“No, you’re not.” Kylie threw a few pieces at her.
“Ah! You are a bitch!” She reached over, grabbed a handful out of the bowl, and threw it.
“That’s it.” Kylie threw some more at her. When they ran out of popcorn, they start throwing pillows until they were both laughing hysterically and fell off the sofa.
When they calmed down, Ana placed her hand on Kylie’s arm and said, “I hope this Grant guy is worth it, Ky.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, it sounded like the thing to say.” She laughed. “I guess what I mean is, I hope he’s worth all this trouble you’re going through: canceling appointments, doggin’ another guy that’s right here and clearly interested, even though you think he might be a bit shady. You haven’t even slept with Grant yet.”
Cianán arched a brow. Of course Grantlund had lied to him.
“You don’t find true love through sex, dumbass. Maybe he’s old fashioned or something, which wouldn’t be all that bad, would it?”
“No, it wouldn’t. I’d love to meet a guy like that.”
“You’d be bored with a guy like that.”
“True.”
Cianán had heard enough. She’d looked happy, but he knew she was only uncomfortable around him because of his behavior. He cursed himself. He knew her past. The damn wolf had told him more when he linked minds with her than the visions had shown him.
The thought of Grantlund delivering her right into his arms made him smile.
He couldn’t lose her again. It took him ages to find her. Fate wanted him to find her. Grantlund saw the mark, and that was enough proof for him. And he gave her that damned locket. He wouldn’t have the ability to do anything to her while she wore the wretched thing. He’d felt its power once before. It was much more powerful than the crystal she’d been wearing the evening they went to dinner. Both of the items had been enchanted. He knew who charmed the locket, but wondered whether Kylie’s mother had also been a cunning woman. He needed to decipher a way to rid of the damned piece of jewelry. There had to be a way. His anger once again lashed out toward Grantlund.
“He has defied me once too often.” In a time long past, a fledgling defying his Master would burn. Of course, long ago the fledgling would never dream of doing such an atrocious act.
He’d thought about killing the boy long ago. After all, he did create him, so to speak. He wanted more than anything to kill him the other night, but this wasn’t the place. His demise wouldn’t bring Kylie to him. The situation was different than the last. Killing Grantlund might drive her away and he would have to take her by force.
That was not an option.
Having Grantlund betray her somehow would be so much more satisfying. She’d come running to Cianán and he’d be there waiting with open arms. He could do whatever he wished with her after that. He nodded, agreeing with his decision. Now he only had to come up with a plan to bring it about.
His ears pricked at a distant sound loud enough to distract him from his thoughts.
The coyotes howled. He smiled, joining in their song from his perch atop the telephone pole. Obviously, they weren’t hunting. Hunting sounded more like a pack of hyenas. He closed his eyes and listened to their song. It was so beautiful, so graceful; a sound both relaxing and invigorating all the same.
Time to feed. He jumped into the night to search for another victim. He’d fed earlier, but he felt the need for a bit more than mere blood. Soaring across the sky, he searched the dark streets until his eyes fell upon a lovely young lady walking swiftly down a neighborhood street. A lonesome song strummed through his ears. He watched her enter her house. His mouth twisted into a grin with thoughts of what he’d do to her this night.
Rain trickled down around him, soaking the grass covering her grave. He used to come to this cemetery centuries ago to remind him of that horrible night: the night he held her lifeless body in his arms for the last time, unable to bring her back. As long as her murderer was out there, he could never let himself forget.
Long ago, he missed her more and more each passing day. The days turned into years. Those years grew into decades and centuries. He was ashamed; his love for her seemed to fade. The vision of her lifeless body; however, was forever etched in his mind. His most recent nightmare ended with him holding a soaking wet, lifeless Kylie instead of the pale, blood-drained Siobhán. It scared the ever-living hell out of him.
Was Siobhán’s death his fault, as Cianán had insinuated? He didn’t know anymore. Confusion clouded his mind. Would he be to blame for Kylie’s death as well? He shook the thought from his mind. God forbid.
He knelt beside the gravestone, placed a flower in front of it, and brushed his fingers across the name—Siobhán Brigit O’Ruairc. That evening long ago intruded, unfolding all over again.
* * * * *
1406 A.D., Ireland
He’d been watching her for three years. Watching and waiting from the shadows. She couldn’t see him. In her mind he was dead. Many times he’d wanted to reach out and touch her, comfort her when he saw tears fall quietly down her cheeks. Cianán never noticed her sorrow and that angered him. If he cared for her,
why did he not notice how sad she’d become?
On occasion, he tried to reach out to her, not caring if she saw him, but she ran away the moment the shadows moved. She’d become fearful since he died. Living in his home didn’t help matters, but Cianán had insisted upon it. Grantlund couldn’t understand why. He heard her tell Cianán a monster chased her through the halls of his home. Cianán would laugh and tell her it was her imagination playing tricks on her. He wondered if Cianán wanted her to go insane, for that was what was happening to her. Surprisingly, Cianán had yet to use his mind control on her. It had been a curiosity Grant wouldn’t understand until years later.
He remembered what Cianán said to him on the eve of his death, about how important she was to him. Recently, he learned of her importance, opposed to Cianán’s lies. While she slept, he worked his magic to protect her—a spell on the locket he’d given to her as a wedding gift. The locket she wore every day and night since his death. He’d made it with his own hands. His hope was that it would protect her from Cianán, or any of the others for that matter. He placed a drop of his blood inside the locket to strengthen the spell against his brethren, whether or not they were of Cianán’s coven.
From that point, all he could do was wait. He didn’t know the ‘when’ of what Cianán had planned. He’d looked forward to it. Cianán told him Siobhán would be returned to him then, but the Master lied to him. Grantlund discovered Cianán planned to kill her.
And he’d be forced to watch. He could think of nothing else, no way to save her. He wasn’t strong enough, even as a vampyre.
He’d left the gathering at Cianán’s to check on her, but that was some time ago. He didn’t enjoy the convivial atmosphere—’the Feast of Age’, Cianán called it. ‘The Feast of Vampyres’, Grantlund called it. Unknowing mortals socialized with their soon-to-be murderers at the festivals. Cianán held the party twice a year, and Grantlund had yet to enjoy one of them. Not all of the humans would be murdered, but it still disgusted him.
Grantlund wasn’t sure he liked his new life. He was always a peaceful man, never bringing harm to a soul unless he absolutely had to. Perhaps to defend himself, or Siobhán, but that was all. Where did peace get him? Turned into a vampyre, an immortal—something he never chose to be. He was forced to ‘hunt’ mortals, something he used to be. Hunt them down the way his wolfhounds once hunted for him.
The Dracove (The Prophecy series) Page 14
