by Lily Harlem
Megan shut the door and quickly prepared for bed. She spotted a small sink in the corner and used that to brush her teeth and wash her face.
She’d just slid into the cool sheets when there was a knock at the door. “Come in.” She stayed sitting upright, her back supported by pillows.
It opened and Seth stood there, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. “Can I?” He nodded into the room.
“Yes.”
“Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes, but I’m worried about my friends.”
“They will be unharmed by Bennington, it’s you he wants.”
A shiver ran up her spine. “Yes, but they’ll be worried about me. Do you have a mobile phone I can use? Maybe I should call the hotel.”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t, sorry.” He stepped in, then sat on the end of the bed.
She felt the mattress dip with his weight. “I need to get word to them somehow, let them know I’m okay.”
“I don’t wish to sound harsh, Megan, but they won’t be concerned about you right now.”
“What? Of course they will.”
“No, they saw you go off with a handsome man, remember. They’ll think you’ve got lucky and are having a great time.”
“Oh, God, how far from the truth that is.” She paused. “But…how do you know that’s what they saw?”
“I was outside the bar, looking in through the window. I witnessed the whole thing—you and him sitting together with champagne.”
“So why did you wait until…” She knotted her fingers, her knuckles aching with the pressure of it. “Until I’d nearly died, and managed to escape, before you came to get me?”
“These things take time.”
“What takes time?” She was confused. “If you knew what he was and saw him dragging me into the alley, why didn’t you come to my rescue straight away?” Confusion was switching to anger. “I mean, come on, you’re supposed to be my knight in shining armor. I nearly died because of that delay.”
“And I’m truly sorry. But the important thing is you’re okay. You’re here, you’re under the protection of the pack now.”
“What is the pack?”
“Us, our group who work with the GVW.”
“Like a gang?”
“Kind of.”
“Will I get to meet the others?”
“Yes. Tomorrow we will travel out of the city, to a safe house in the Wicklow Mountains. That’s where you’ll wait until Bennington has been hunted down.”
“So you’re not coming with me?” Why did that thought make her feel panicked?
He smiled, a gentle smile that went to his eyes and softened his features. “Of course, I will not let you out of my sight until he has wood splitting his dead heart in two.”
Well, that’s a relief.
“And who will hunt him down?”
“The others, they’ll also be helping keep you safe. They’ll work in shifts checking the grounds.”
“Grounds? That sounds fancy.”
Again he smiled. “I think you’ll find it very comfortable.” He gestured around the small room. “It’s a little grander than this.”
Megan sighed and nestled deeper into the pillows. Did her friends really think she was swinging from the chandeliers right now? Yes, probably. And was she really going to head off to the mountains with this big man who was staring at her intently? Yes, probably.
“I should let you sleep,” Seth said, standing.
She nodded. “That would be a good idea. But where will you be? Do you have a room here?”
“I’ll be just outside your door.”
“On the couch?” She felt terrible. Had she stolen his bed? Though, to be honest, she wasn’t sure Seth would fit on the bed she was in: his feet would hang off the end.
“I might doze on the couch,” he said. “But I don’t sleep much and even less when there is a devil spawn in town.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” He stepped up to her, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Goodnight, Megan.”
She breathed in his scent. It was rich and masculine, slightly peppery too. She liked it, a lot. “Goodnight, Seth, and thank you for everything.”
He didn’t reply. Instead he walked from the room, shutting the door with a quiet click.
Megan switched off the light and settled down. She had no idea if she’d get any sleep but she’d give it a try.
It took a while but, eventually, her mind drifted. Knowing Seth was right outside, within calling distance if a problem arose, helped her relax.
Her dreams stole her thoughts. She was with her friends, laughing and joking. They had Guinness cocktails, a new creation, and Emma started singing a song about a leprechaun. Then she was in the cobbled street, still laughing but wondering why her feet hurt, why her bag felt so heavy. There was a rainbow in the distance, one that was made up of pink and lilac.
Suddenly a man’s face loomed before her. Handsome and pale, he grinned and leaned closer.
She recognized him. Fear shot through her system. Her blood pounded in her ears and her legs ached to run. She tried to run, but she couldn’t. Her limbs were heavy, her rucksack heavier. What could she do? Terror gripped her soul.
He was over her, his face inches away. She knew who he was, what he was. Bennington. The vampire. His fangs were glistening, blood dripping from their tips. He’d bitten her. She was dying, it was all over.
She opened her mouth, screamed. No sound emerged. She tried again, nothing.
Her skin was cold and clammy. She couldn’t breathe.
Suddenly, she sat. Opened her eyes. It took a moment for the unfamiliar flowery cover to come into focus but, when it did, she remembered where she was. She pressed her hand to her chest, trying to control her breathing, and looked around the small room. There was no window, no cupboard for anyone to hide in. It was just her, the bed, the sink and a couple of small bits of furniture.
“Fucking hell,” she muttered, leaning over and flicking on the lamp. She hoped dreams of Bennington weren’t going to haunt her for the rest of her life but, right now, she couldn’t be sure.
She touched her throat, and felt her pulse beneath the clammy skin. No bite mark. It had been a dream. Maybe this had all been a dream. This whole day. Perhaps she’d wake up and be at home in Liverpool and the trip would be stretching ahead of her.
The long nightdress was damp with sweat. She needed a drink of water.
Quietly, she got out of bed and opened the door.
The kitchen area had one dim light that cast shadows over the cooker and the table they’d eaten at. She looked at the couch, expecting to see Seth sleeping there.
He wasn’t.
Frowning, because he’d said he’d be keeping an eye out for her, she went to the sink.
Filling a glass with water, she berated herself. He’d probably just gone to the toilet or something. He was allowed to do that for goodness sake.
As she walked back to her room, movement at the top of the stairs caught her attention. She paused and peered through the darkness.
Lying across the entrance to the room was an enormous black dog. Much bigger than any dog she’d ever seen before, in fact it looked more like a huge wolf. Its ears were pointy and it had a shaggy black mane. It certainly appeared as if it would be more at home stalking around the Canadian Rockies than in a small room in Dublin.
It must have sensed her because it raised its head and looked directly at her.
It had big dark eyes and the end of its nose was shiny, just catching the light.
Fear tugged at her guts. She hadn’t seen this dog before. Hadn’t been introduced. What if it thought she was an intruder and turned on her? Where was Seth or Rose if she needed rescuing from its big jaws?
“Nice doggy,” she said, gripping the glass tighter than she should.
She listened for a growl. There was nothing. Instead the creature turned its attenti
on back to the stairwell. It seemed fascinated with the door at the bottom.
Megan pulled in a deep breath and tiptoed back to her room. She was glad when she’d shut the door. The dog’s unblinking stare and huge head had scared her.
“Damn it,” she muttered, then drank her water. Life was getting too weird. It had to be a dream, all of this, that was the only explanation.
She’d go back to sleep, not allow any thoughts of vampires in and, when she woke, all would be back to normal. Emma would be snoring in the bed next to her and they’d have another full day of fun and frolics around Dublin without a care in the world.
Maybe it was the damn Guinness. It had given her crazy-assed dreams. That was it. She was never drinking the stuff again. It had messed with her head and her imagination in a big way. Megan didn’t need anything extra to send her into a fantasy world.
Yes, that’s what she’d do. Sleep and never drink the damn Irish beer again.
Chapter Four
When Megan woke she kept her eyes closed for a moment, even though the events of the previous night came rushing back. But, before she faced the day and confirmed where she really was, there were a blissful few seconds where she could pretend she wasn’t in Rose’s home, in a small pink bed and wearing a strange nightdress.
But of course she knew she couldn’t stay like that for long. And the strangely scented linen and cool air confirmed her suspicions before she even sat and looked around.
Banging came from the kitchen, the sound of a kettle coming to the boil. Rose was talking too, animatedly, her lilting high voice almost like a song.
She stood and glanced down at herself. Had she ever looked so ridiculous?
Quickly, Megan washed at the sink and pulled on the jeans and light sweater she’d packed for her second day in Dublin. She pulled a comb through her hair—it was a little frizzy but nothing she couldn’t handle. After brushing her teeth, and applying some tinted moisturizer and a slick of mascara—she hated her pale, sandy-colored eyelashes—she was ready to face the world and all it was going to throw at her.
Which would likely be a lot, and possibly include fangs.
She beat down a shudder. Her experience in the alley with Bennington had been awful but, in the light of day, she felt able to put it behind her.
Not least because Seth—big, strong, handsome Seth—was going to help her.
As she opened the door she found herself looking forward to seeing him, getting to know more about him.
Perhaps the big dog—or was it a wolf?—she’d seen was his pet. He struck her as an animal person.
He was sitting at the table, spooning eggs into his mouth. He looked up. “Morning.”
“Hi.” She smiled. Fuck, the guy was cute, though he looked completely out of place here. He’d be more suited to felling trees in the forest, bare-chested and swinging an axe, his muscles bulging and bunching, sweat making his olive skin shine. This room seemed too small for his bulk. His shoulders, today encased in a faded red t-shirt, were impossibly wide. And his hair, with the light from a window caressing it, was oil-slick black. He definitely hadn’t shaved either, and his stubble resembled a light beard now.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked, still looking at her.
“Not too bad, considering.” She took the seat opposite him. “Some strange dreams.”
“Yeah, that’s not surprising.”
“What, because of the trauma?”
“Well, yeah that and…”
“And what?”
“And you’re in his head.” Rose turned from where she was stirring a pot of tea. “Which means he’s in your head.”
Megan shuddered. That didn’t sound good. “What? Who?”
“He’s thinking of you, that goddamn vampire, and nothing but you and your taste,” Seth said as he buttered a thick slice of toast. “Obsessed, consumed, hungry for your blood.”
Megan crossed her arms, hugging herself. “Cheery start to the day. Thanks for that.”
“It is what it is.” Seth shrugged and bit into his toast. A few crumbs scattered onto the table.
“Which means you’ll be on the road soon,” Rose said. “Sooner the better in fact. I don’t trust that evil bastard not to come here. Not that I’m not ready for him, I am.”
Megan glanced at the top of the stairs, almost expecting to see Bennington standing there.
Of course he wasn’t.
“There was a dog, well, more like a wolf actually, lying there last night.” She gestured to the spot where she’d seen the big beast.
“Yes,” Rose said, “there was.”
“Where is he now?” Megan asked. He was too big to hide, too big to live here.
“He’s…dormant,” Rose said. “He’ll be back later, if we need him.” She glanced at Seth.
Seth returned her look.
Dormant?
A fleeting thought went through Megan’s head. Shifter. No, that was rubbish, it couldn’t be true. Shifters weren’t real and no way on this earth was Seth that wolf-like dog. Despite the many books she’d read—the fun, sexy paranormal stories that kept her turning the pages until late into the night—she knew they weren’t real.
Just like vampires weren’t real.
Except they were.
Fuck.
Was Seth a shifter?
“Here. Tea.” Rose set a white cup and saucer in front of Megan. The liquid was builders-brew brown and a silver spoon sat against the cup.
“Cubes?” Rose said, putting a pot of sugar cubes onto the table.
Megan pushed her crazy thoughts aside. “Thank you. Lovely,” she said, using the tiny tongs to drop a cube into her tea. When they got somewhere safer, out of the city, then she’d re-examine the crazy notions that were pinging around her brain.
“And the works, black and white pudding, bacon, eggs, sausages,” Rose added a plate piled with food next to the tea. “Should fill you up for the day.”
“Wow, thank you.” The food looked amazing.
“Eat,” Seth said. “Rose’s breakfasts make fighters out of victims.”
“Any garlic in it?” Megan asked with a smile. She refused to be a victim. That wasn’t in her DNA. She’d learned that when Colin had cheated on her and her world had crashed down. “I need my blood to be liquid garlic by the sound of it.”
Seth grinned in return, his eyes seeming to watch her lips move. “Yeah, plenty in the pudding.”
“Good, because I’m all about the garlic shield.” She held her arm at an angle, pretending to hold a shield.
He laughed, a full-on belly laugh, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. His chest expanded, his T-shirt stretching across his pecs and highlighting his nipples.
Megan squirmed on her seat. Damn, she’d thought he was hot anyway but, with a sense of humor and wearing that T-shirt, he was off-the-scale boiling.
Rose smiled and rested her hand on Megan’s shoulder. “Come on, eat up.”
“Okay.” Megan picked up her knife and fork and tucked in. Before she knew it, the food and the tea were gone and her belly was full and warm.
“So,” Seth said, standing and spreading a map on the table. “This is where we’re going. It’s actually not that far.”
Megan squinted at the point on the map he was jabbing with his finger. “It looks huge. What is it?”
“It’s a stately home, Powerscourt. It has sections open to the public which is a good cover for us, though there is one wing of the house the pack owns.”
“Owns?” Wow, there must be some money going on.
“Yes, it’s been passed down through the generations. It has a clause though, it’s for the single use of protecting human souls.”
“Human souls,” Megan repeated quietly.
“Yes, like yours.” He pressed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “You’ll be much safer there than in Dublin. This has been a stop-gap, a respite, now we need proper protection.”
Megan swallowed, a piece of toast seemingl
y stuck in her throat. She sipped the last of her tea. “Proper protection?”
“Yes. It’s imperative.” He folded the map. “Are you ready? We should make haste.”
“I wondered if we could stop by the hotel, so I could let my friends know what’s going on.”
“No.” He straightened and frowned. “We can’t risk that.”
“But I’ll only be a minute or two, in and out.”
He shook his head. “Keeping you alive is my priority and that is a risk I can’t take, Megan.”
“But—”
“Listen to him,” Rose said. “It’s for the best. And your friends will understand when you explain the gravity of the situation.”
Megan pulled in a deep breath. Would they? She hoped so.
She glanced at Seth who was collecting various things from around the kitchen. She’d have to comply. Go with him. Leave this small apartment for Powerscourt. “I’ll just, you know, use the bathroom, grab my stuff.”
“Yes.” Seth walked to the window and looked out. “Five minutes, then we leave.”
Megan stared out of the car Seth was driving. The city had quickly given way to fields and farmland. Even though they were on a main road, it felt as though the urban-ness of Dublin had been left far behind.
Still, she couldn’t help wondering if any of her friends were anxious about her yet, or if they presumed she’d be waking up and having a lazy morning screw with her hot one-night stand.
Didn’t they have a plan for this sort of thing?
If they did she couldn’t remember it, but it was a moot point. As Seth had said, if they’d called the police and she’d been scooped up by coppers she would be a sitting duck for Bennington. It was clear that crowds, authority and morals were no barriers for him.
His hunger ruled.
His hunger for her.
The safe house Seth was taking her to was her only option.
How had her life come to this?
Her grandmother—her least favorite person in the world when she was growing up—had always said her fiery hair would be her downfall. How she’d made Megan so angry with her words, but how right she’d been. Her Celtic roots had made her a target.
