Page 34 of Vampire's Hearth

I caught Mac’s look as I replied. “Yes, there’s been some developments here.”

“But you’re coming home?” Aunt Amara asked, her concern clear this time.

“Not yet,” I replied. “We’re getting conflicting readings on the next step to finding the person Mac believes the lineage is directing us to.”

“Rory, there are so many things in that sentence.” I was sure she was shaking her head. “What do you mean by conflicting readings?”

I took a deep breath, focusing on the issue and not analyzing her feelings. “Every time I use my pendulum, it points back to Mac. He seems required to find the Cure, but that doesn’t feel right.”

Aunt Amara’s voice was firm. “I’m sending Lyra. Tell me your location; she’ll arrive within a few hours.”

I glanced at Mac and sputtered, “I’m not sure that’s necessary, Aunt Amara. I don’t think—”

“No,” she interrupted. “She’s coming to assist.”

I sighed as I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t have to tell you where I am; she’s already nearby, isn’t she?”

“You know me well, child,” Amara said, her voice drawn. “When we didn’t hear from you at the appointed time last night, it was necessary to send someone. Lyra left early this morning. I can dowse just as well as the next witch. Locating you has not been hard.”

I shook my head. “That’s fine, Aunt Amara. We’ll see her soon.” The phone call ended, and I turned to Mac with a sigh. The situation couldn’t be worse. “It seems you’re having another houseguest,” I said.

Cormac

The unease in Rory’s beautiful green eyes told me one thing: she was unhappy with this latest development. Her sigh was heavy as her shoulders dropped. “I should have expected it. I’m the one who disappeared into a cave with no way of contacting them. At least you didn’t leave me there.” Her eyes softened as she looked up at me.

“I would never have left you,” I replied. I reached out to touch her arm but pulled back with a sudden rush of uncertainty. “There was a reason we were both there at that moment.”

“Fate,” she whispered, almost to herself. “Fate wanted us to find the lineage at the same time.”

I turned my body toward her. “Why do you think the pendulum points here whenever you try to find the Cure?”

Rory shook her head, her frustration palpable. “I don’t know. It feels like even my magic is pushing for us to work together.” Her lips curled so slightly I second-guessed if she were smiling.

My phone buzzed, and I read the text that appeared. “Isla says she will start working on it shortly,” I said, picking up the blueprints and putting them back on the shelf. As I did, I looked at the O’Cillian crest on the front. Why had Rory looked at it as though she couldn’t see it? Did the spell run that deep?

“Good,” she murmured.

“How long until this houseguest arrives?” I leaned against the desk in front of her, glancing around my father’s office, untouched by time. Had he been here recently? A knot formed in my stomach. Rory had still not said she would work with me to find the Cure, only that it appeared I was required. Where did this leave us?

She clenched her jaw. “My cousin, Lyra. Not long, probably only a few minutes. My aunt has been magically tracking my location all day, just waiting to spring her on me.”

My voice softened. “At least you know your cousins. I never knew mine.” I thought back to my extended family, long since dead. I resisted the urge to turn away from her and toy with the pens on the desk.

Rory sat back in the chair. “Why not?”

“My grandfather sent us to England when people noticed my parents weren’t aging.”

“To England?” Her eyes widened in surprise.

I laughed, a hint of sorrow creeping into the sound. “My grandfather thought it best to send us away to serve as representatives of our clan to the royal family.” A small, nostalgic smile played across my lips.

She leaned forward. My heart raced to think she could desire to know about my family and not just the Cure. “You lived among royalty?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied with a touch of humility. “I still hold a title, truth be told, since I never actually died. At least, I think that is how that goes.”

Rory giggled, her laughter a balm to the tension between us. “I had no idea I was in the company of royalty.” She tilted her chin. “How long were you there?”

“Years,” I said with a smile, my heart soothed by talking about them—and to her. “My father was the one initially sent to represent our clan. He was granted the first title. He introduced me to the royal family about ten years later, and I began taking over his duties.”

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