Page 23 of Vampire's Breath

I could figure it out once I returned from the garden center. For now, I had a promise to fulfill. I owed Briar as much information as I could provide, enough to help her understand what had happened to her ancestor, without outright telling her.

But what was I supposed to say? “My sireling killed Lady Isobel’s husband. She figured out it was him, so she staked him. And then I compelled everyone around her to ensure her safety, to see her off to Australia, where I ensured she was given a prime position in a household.”

I ran a hand through my hair, the strands catching on my fingers. When I heard Lady Isobel had remarried, delight had filled me. She had everything I wanted for her: a new family, a new life, far from the madness of London, far from my kind, who had so nearly destroyed her. But she didn’t have Harrowmont.

Honestly, as much as it had hurt me to lose Ashdowne, as much as it tore at me that he was gone, I was relieved someone had finally dealt with him. He had caused too many people to disappear and taken too many lives. I was done with it, done with him. Isobel had done me a favor, though she would never know it. It had been the least I could do to ensure her transition to the penal colony was better than it could have been. Without my intervention, she might have found herself at the wrong end of the gallows.

I pushed the trunk shut, locking it again before placing it back in the shadows of the closet. I’d have to return and ensure that I removed all evidence of a vampire’s presence between these walls. Whoever found this house didn’t need to know it had been mine.

My mind was calm for the first time in what felt like forever. It didn’t hurt to think about the future—a future without mybrothers. I didn’t have them now, and I wouldn’t have them again.

Journal in hand, I strolled toward Briar’s shop. The cobblestones gleamed under the fading light, the scent of rain mingling with the faint, sweet aroma of her garden shop ahead. The journal would provide her with the leads she needed, and the contacts I provided could figure out the rest. Part of me wondered if I could simply leave it on her desk and slip away unseen.

But I knew I couldn’t. My grip tightened on the binding, the leather flexing under the pressure of my hand.

Even though she could never be mine, even though I’d never hold her in my arms or kiss her, I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. The thought of her face—bright with curiosity, untainted by the shadows that followed me—was enough to make me falter for a moment on the threshold.

Briar

It wasn’t quite dusk yet, and I wasn’t ready to close, but Amy had brought over a bottle of wine, and after the day I’d had, I needed it. We sat in the Adirondack chairs while the fire in the pit snapped softly, sending fragrant wisps of smoke into the cool evening air. The aromas of cedar and salt blended with the sweet fragrance of flowers and wine, creating an intoxicating perfume. After meeting with Amy in the coffee shop, work had consumed every minute. Even now, I feared a last-minute customer would appear on the path. The idea of selling the necklace still lingered in my mind. My throat tightened, the fear I would fail my mother hollowing my stomach.

I sat forward and set my wine on the stone ring of the firepit as footfalls reached my ears. “Time to head back to work,” I said,throwing Amy a quick eye roll before I stood and straightened the band of my black pants. A smile tugged at my lips as I looked up when Lorcan emerged between the trees lining the path.

I took a step toward him. “It’s good to see you again.” My heart fluttered as I tucked a stray hair behind my ear.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided smile, making my stomach clench. “Hopefully, seeing me with my clothes on is okay.”

Heat flared in my cheeks, and I struggled not to glance away from his steady gaze.

“What?” Amy sputtered. From the sounds she was making, she had almost choked on her wine at Lorcan’s statement.

I waved a hand to dismiss the memory, but couldn’t contain my grin. The image of his body came to mind, causing a stir between my legs. I spoke to her over my shoulder. “Lorcan was having a swim when I dropped the bush off, and I may have rocked up at the wrong time.”

“Well, that sounds like a story for later,” Amy said.

“Oh God, where’s my wine?” I gave her a playful glare through my eyelashes, lunging to retrieve my glass from the edge of the firepit before returning to Lorcan. “I’m sure you didn’t come over to discuss that.”

“Not really.” He lifted his hand so I could see the leather-bound tome he grasped.

I wanted to shriek like a schoolgirl, but pushed it back down in my chest. He found it! I gestured toward the porch with a nonchalance I didn’t feel. “Amy can watch the fire. Would you like a drink?”

He shook his head. “No, thank you. I can’t stay.”

Disappointment flickered through me, though I tried not to let it show. The memory of him kissing my hand in the doorway flooded my mind, making my heart race.

I led him to the two rocking chairs on the veranda of the office, painted white to contrast with the wooden exterior. I sank into the one farthest from the door, the chair rocking back as I sat. The sensation brought a sense of calm that conflicted with the knot in my stomach.

“I told you I would bring this by.” He held out the journal. Streaks of age ran through the brown leather. A strap wrapped around it, holding it closed, and the edges of the cover worn to a shade lighter than the rest.

My glass clinked as I set it on the table between the two chairs before I took the soft leather into my hands. I opened the book and ran my fingers across the yellowed pages, taking a deep breath to counter my rising heart rate. I wanted there to be something, anything, in this book to tell me where to look for records on Lady Isobel. I raised my gaze to Lorcan’s eyes, remembering his words. He wasn’t proud of his O’Cillian heritage, yet he had just handed it to me so I could learn my family’s story.

“Thank you,” I whispered, resting the closed book on my lap. “I know how hard this must have been for you.”

Lorcan nodded before studying his shoes. “You’re welcome.”

I ran my finger along the cover before moving the journal to the table. “I’m sorry for asking you to share an unwanted history. Can I ask why something that happened generations ago is so bad? I mean, Lady Isobel murdered someone, and here I am, trying to learn.” A thought flickered in my mind, and I swallowed. “Of course, I couldn’t imagine what would happen if I ever met Ashdowne’s descendants.”

I rested my gaze on him as he clasped his hands together. “The Clan O’Cillian wasn’t quite what I thought they’d be.”

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