His favorite story was about an Irish woman in the fifteenth century who'd died mysteriously, and a dead man cursed to walk the earth until he could find someone to heal his broken heart. There wasn't much to go on, so he dropped his research.
Now, Cianán—that was another story. Danny found enough on him to know the Master vamp had been around for about two thousand, three hundred years, which amazed him. He was surprised he actually found information on Cianán, but he'd only discovered his age recently. He also learned—or heard, anyhow—Cianán was once a priest—Pagan or Druid, or something similar. Power corrupts all, I suppose. Cianán was a powerful sorcerer too. Danny had heard stories about Merlin, but those couldn't possibly be true. He was a fictional character, like King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.
Of course, vampyres are supposed to be fictional too, right? He frowned. Shit.
A large oak tree back from the road caught his eye. Its twisted, gnarled dead black branches reached out to him. The branches swayed in the wind, bringing it to eerie life. From what appeared to be a face in the trunk below where the branches stemmed out, a grin formed, its contorted smile beckoning him, for what he didn't know and didn't care to. He shuddered.
An omen, perhaps. His thoughts turned back to Cianán.
Cianán had always kept a residence in Ireland, though he traveled quite a bit. Even though they'd had some idea of where he was all of this time, it'd been difficult for the slayers to get near him because of his magic. When they'd run into him, it was usually by accident. They didn’t know where his home was. For some reason, they could never find it.
Dana was the only slayer who could track Cianán. She'd hunted him down in Rome about three years ago. Danny called her ability to track Cianán a 'sick sense'. He was livid when she went after him then without waiting for backup. He wasn't about to let her do it again.
Danny glanced her way for a second, and returned his gaze to the skyline.
He wondered about the woman Cianán planned on taking, or had already. He knew there was some sort of ritual involved, but wasn't sure how it would play out. Whoever this Chosen One was, he felt bad for her. He definitely wouldn't want to be in her shoes right about now. Then again, he didn't want to be in his shoes, either.
"Are we getting close yet?" Dana hadn't told him exactly where they were heading. He knew others were there waiting for them, though.
"Yes," she answered. "It's about fifteen minutes away."
"Good, I'm hungry."
"Me too. Sergio will have something for us, I'm sure."
Danny stared out the window again. Every fear of what they were going to be facing raced through his mind. He hoped they weren't too late.
"Dana?"
"What?"
"Are you . . . scared?"
She glanced at him. "Yes, Danny. I'm scared." She focused on the road again. "I may do this a lot, but it doesn't mean I don't get scared every now and then. Besides, this is Cianán we're talking about."
He fiddled with a string from the small tear on the leg of his jeans. He pulled it off and wrapped it around his finger, unwrapped it, only to wrap it around his finger again. When he looked up, they were pulling into the driveway of a church.
He frowned and turned to Dana again. "Don't they know hallowed ground means nothing to vampyres?"
"To most of them, Danny, but there are some vampyres who believe all those myths, just like there are slayers who still believe them."
"Really?"
She nodded. The car came to a stop.
"I didn't realize . . . ."
"It's okay," she said with a smile.
A man stepped out of the building.
Danny nodded to the Brazilian walking up to the car. He knew exactly who he was.
"If there's anything else I need to know, I'd like to know it before we—"
"Don't worry. We'll get you up to speed. You're going to be telling them about Cianán. A lot of the others don't really know that much about him, other than to stay the hell away from him. You are the expert." She smiled at the man at her door. "Sergio, how the hell are ya?"
"I am fine, Dana, y tu?" His Brazilian accent was thick. "Who is with you? Your brother?"
"Yes," she said and they stepped out of the car. "This is Danny—"
"Dan," he corrected and walked around the car.
"Excuse me, Dan. This is Sergio Luís Raúl Delgado."
Danny ignored her sarcasm and extended his hand. Sergio took it with both hands, gripping tightly. Danny slightly winced. The man had a strong grip.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sergio."
"Yes, I also, Dan. I had been wanting to meet you, but I wish it were under other . . . sit-tu-ay-she-ons? No, is no correct. Circum-stanc-es, is de word."
"Your English is getting better, Sergio," Dana remarked.
"Si, I have been studying. I have trouble with some of de words, but, eh." He shrugged. "I try my best. Come inside. We can speak more in dere, and get out of de rain." Sergio pointed to the black clouds hovering above, ready to unload their swelled thunderheads in what promised to be a violent sheet of pelting raindrops Danny did not want to experience.
"The storm looked like it might be heading this way." Dana opened the trunk.
They pulled out their bags and walked into the building behind Sergio. He led them through the old kitchen and into the main hall. Danny was in awe of its majesty, but the place wouldn't keep them safe. Cianán was born before Christianity. Sacred ground meant nothing to him and most likely his coven as well. If he found out they were here, he'd easily destroy them all. Danny’s and Dana's magic would be no match for Cianán's.
Sergio introduced him to the others—who'd been wandering about the place. Interesting bunch. Danny wasn't sure there were enough of them. Cianán had a large number in his coven, though it'd splintered over the centuries. He didn't know if they'd be able to take them out one at a time, since the vampyres were preparing for the ritual, most likely. There really wasn't time to find them if the slayers didn't already know where they were. Sergio said he sent scouts to check out one of the places Cianán had been seen in lately. They found nothing . . . of course. No one said this would be easy. Danny hoped they'd be able to find them when they fed. That meant going after them at night, which was far more dangerous.
Dana’s discovery that they could use some of their powers during the day would be irrelevant. Daylight was better to confront them in, if they could just figure out where they'd gone.
The clock was ticking, and none of them knew how much time they had before the ritual began.
Dedication
In loving memory…
Kevin Robert Shuell
(June 20, 1969 - June 15, 2000)
Acknowledgments
First, I’d like to thank Umi for bearing many hours of loneliness and feeding me while I revamped this monstrous project around my homework schedule. I’d also like to thank my beta-reader Crystal Aleshire for her input. I know you’re difficult to hook, so I appreciate that you enjoyed the story. Same goes to Angel Ashton. To Lori Lasswell, you did a great job perfecting my art for the cover; it was far better than I expected.
And of course, special thanks to my editor R.C. Murphy. You done good, chica.
“The eye only sees what the mind is prepared to comprehend.” ~Confucius
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