Page 35 of Vampire's Hearth

“But if you were both there...” Rory trailed off, her eyes wide. I knew where her thought was going.

“Several years later, I assumed his role,” I continued with a sly smile. “My father suddenly fell ill—a mysterious illness. He ‘died’ shortly after that. In truth, he returned to Ireland and remained hidden for a time, but such was the life of a creature of the night.”

“Really?” Rory crinkled her forehead, clearly intrigued. “And then what happened?”

“I introduced my younger brother,” I said with a nonchalant shrug, a smile on my lips.

She smiled back. “And let me guess—several years later, you succumbed to a mysterious illness as well.”

“You are catching on fast,” I said, a hint of sarcasm in my soft voice as I relished the ease with which I could tell her about my family. Even when I explained our circumstances to another immortal, there were always questions about why we had stayed out of vampire politics and how we had become so strong. And never had I told any of them that my brothers and I were dhampirs, that secret being locked away.

Among the immortals, many believed my father was turned after his sons were born, and he was responsible for turning thefour of us. Most even thought my mother was a vampire as well, refusing to believe a human would stay mated for so long.

“How many brothers do you have?” Rory asked, tipping her head and raising her hand to her chin, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“There are four of us,” I replied, a smile playing on my lips, but inside, my heart pounded with dread. We were once inseparable, but now I didn’t even know where they were, dead or alive, save Aiden.

Rory’s brow furrowed. “Aren’t there four O’Cillians as well?”

My throat tightened. I needed to be more careful—stay close to the truth but not too close—or she would connect my stories. Yet as I looked into her gaze, I wanted her to know who I was: the mixture of good and evil. My smile shifted as it became tinged with sadness. “Yes, there are.”

“Have you ever met them?” Rory asked, her gaze sharp and probing.

I nodded. “Yes, a few times,” I said, clenching my jaw. “Do you think that is why I am needed to help find the Cure?”

“I don’t know,” she said on a breath. Her gaze searched mine as silence engulfed us.

What was she thinking? It felt like she was looking into my soul, and I wanted her to. I had no idea how I would end this farce, but for now, it seemed best. As soon as she learned the vampire she sought was my brother, all hell would break loose, and I needed to protect her from that—and him.

I cleared my throat, a nervousness settling on me. “I take it you don’t want your cousin staying near your room?”

Rory shook her head, a hint of frustration in her expression, as she shifted in her seat. “We don’t always get along. It’s as though she’s decided the coven is hers for the taking, and I can’t understand why.”

There were so many things I could tell Rory—so many truths about her family and history that she likely longed to hear. But not now. “Why would she take over the coven?” I asked, my voice gentle.

Rory sat forward and wrung her hands together. “I don’t see how she could. But if I were to die—”

“Why would you die?” I interrupted, concern lacing my voice.

“If I ever have children...” She gazed into the distance. She looked down, her voice softening. “Could vampire blood save a mother dying in childbirth?”

I took a deep breath, understanding the depth of her question. “Not usually,” I said, my tone careful. “Vampire blood restores you to the state you were in, but dying in childbirth is... natural.”

“But so is spraining an ankle,” she snapped, pointing at her healing leg.

“I know,” I replied, biting the inside of my cheek. “It’s difficult to understand. The pregnancy already compromised the mother’s condition. Plus, if the baby is human and the umbilical cord is still attached...”

Her face twisted. “Are you implying a newborn would become a vampire?”

I raised my eyebrows but otherwise remained steadfast.

“That’s awful.”

I nodded. “At that point, the baby is lost anyway. I’ve never seen a mother choose to live after that.”

A dreadful silence hung between us, our conversation exposing the fragility of human life. My eyes locked on hers as I softened my expression. “You haven’t eaten all day? Are you hungry?” I asked, gesturing to the door.

Rory sighed and gave me a slight nod. When she stood, she hesitated as she placed weight on her ankle. She looked at me with a smile. “I’ll unwrap it when we get to the kitchen.”