Page 41 of Vampire's Hearth

“I’ll explain on the way,” he said, grasping his bag and turning on his heel. I grabbed my backpack from the hall tree before we walked into the cool night air. The cicadas croaked in the night, and the porch creaked under our footsteps as we walked the length of the house. Under a portico over the side drive was a sleek black sports car, more luxurious than any I’d seen.

I halted. “That’s yours?”

He shrugged, pushing a button, causing the trunk to pop open. “The Audi RS7? No one else seems to be here to drive it.” We each stowed our bags.

Mac walked to the front of the car and opened the passenger door, his movements smooth and practiced. “Aurora?” He smiled as he gestured into the vehicle.

“Thank you,” I said as I slipped inside, noting the unmistakable salty scent of Mac’s cologne mixed with the lavender that filled the air.

Lyra, standing by the back door, tilted her head. “What about me?”

“I figured you’d manage on your own without a vampire helping you,” Mac replied as he closed my door gently and walked around the front of the car.

I stifled a chuckle as Lyra huffed and rolled her eyes but climbed into the back seat. As she settled in, I noticed her squirm.

Mac slid behind the wheel and guided the car into the night. We pulled out of the long driveway and onto the winding backcountry roads, the tires humming against the pavement. The trees lining the road were a shadowy blur as we sped past them. Modern folk music with hints of Irish ties drifted from the speakers.

“What airport are we heading to?” I asked, my voice sounding much louder than I intended against the hush in the car.

“Louisville,” Mac answered. “It’s the closest major airport. From there, it’s a direct flight to Ireland.”

“What can you tell us about the O’Cillian family?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. “What was with the names of the hunters and the witches on the lineage?”

Mac smiled a bittersweet smile. “I’m not sure it is something you will like.” His words were measured, his statement almost a question, as though giving me time to back out of hearing the answer.

I stole a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye, one hand resting on the gearshift separating us, so close to my knee I could feel a tension emanating from his hand.

“I’d like to know.” I forced out the words.

“As you may have already guessed, the O’Cillian vampires, the Coven of the Blood, and the hunters are all related,” said Mac, glancing at me as he spoke.

I blinked rapidly, a lump immediately forming in my throat. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve already told you that Kieran was turned by the Dearg Dur in a fit of revenge. That triggered something in the family, possibly because Rauri O’Cillian’s mother was a witch.”

A realization snapped into place. “But that means…” I couldn’t finish.

Mac nodded. “So was Kieran O’Cillian until he was turned. When that happened, his three sisters formed the Coven of the Blood.”

“What about the hunters?” I asked.

“As each of Kieran’s sons turned to darkness, a brother would become a hunter. Rauri sent the hunters away to protect the family.”

“You’re lying,” Lyra said from the back seat.

“But how?” I could hear the disbelief in my own voice. I wanted to be angry, but I was too shocked. This seemed likesomething the coven would know. Was it something Amara would teach me during my training? Why hide it?

Lyra’s bitter voice floated between us. “If we’re all related, why doesn’t the coven remember? Why have we never heard this? Why are the O’Cillian’s just a myth to us?”

Mac shrugged. “Perhaps that is a question to save for Conall.”

“Who’s Conall?” snapped Lyra.

“The youngest of the O’Cillian brothers. He’s the one I’m taking you to meet.” Mac glanced at me. “Are you alright?”

I nodded, staring at the road ahead. “Just processing.”

“So why don’t we need any clothes?” asked Lyra, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

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