Page 24 of Vampire's Breath

“Why not?”

He let out a long sigh, shifting his focus to the horizon. His words were soft, with a feeling I couldn’t quite place. “I thoughtthey’d be kind and generous, caring for each other and their family. But it turned out not to be the case.”

“How so?” I probed for a preview of the journal.

The edge of his shoe caught on the porch wood, the scraping sound filling the silence as he bit the inside of his cheek. “It was just some reading I did later about the family. There seemed to be a falling out. They weren’t as close as even that journal portrays.”

“That’s it? I don’t think—”

His jaw tightened as he stared at his hands, clutching each other, his knuckles white. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I looked at the flames rising over the stones, picking up my glass again, tracing the stem with my fingers, the silence between us making it difficult to breathe.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him rock back, placing his hands on the arms of the chair. “Well, I should—”

“Lorcan, when you get back—”

He abandoned standing, his eyes snapping to mine, softening. I could have sworn there was a flicker of regret before the clear ocean blue became cloudy. “I’m not coming back, and you shouldn’t wait for me.”

Lorcan

She didn’t say a word. I saw it, though—the pain as she hid her eyes behind the rim of her glass and took a sip of wine, the tightness of her throat as she forced herself to swallow.

What else could I do? I would only cause her more pain in the long run if I allowed anything to happen. She wouldn’t feel the same once she knew my past, even if she never knew it was me. And if she were ever truly mine? She would know everything. This was how it had to be.

She finally squeezed a syllable out. “But—”

I tried to look at her, but I couldn’t. I stared at the reflection of the flames on her glass instead. “I can’t.” My voice cracked on the words.

She closed her eyes, tears gathering at the outer corners. “I’ll return the journal as soon as I can.” Her breath stuttered as she inhaled.

I reached out to brush her fingers. Warmth flowed through my arm as she jerked her hand from under mine. I curled my fingers and pulled them back. “You can keep it.” She stared at a window across from us, pain etched on her brow. “Briar, if this were another time, another life…”

How could I tell her how much I wanted to be with her when I knew she would never forgive me once she understood my role in Lady Isobel’s downfall? But at least in giving her the journal, I would desiccate knowing she knew a part of me.

Her jaw twitched, but she maintained her silence for one breath. Then two. She didn’t look at me, her shoulders stiff before she finally laid her hand on my journal. “Hopefully, this will help me if I ever get to England. But it’ll be a while. Can I still use your contacts?”

“Of course. But…” I couldn’t believe I was asking this. I just needed to leave. “What is keeping you from going? I’ve seen how much this means to you.”

She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Finances. Amy said she’d take care of the garden center whenever I go, and I have a few people who work here, so I know it’s in capable hands. But after paying for everything for my mum and all the costs of opening, it will take a few months to save up. Besides, I hear going in March is better anyway—fewer tourists. I might get into the places I need.”

I stared into the flames as I thought about what she said.

What was that? My attention snapped toward a sound. Footsteps crunched again on the path. How could I not have heard them before?

Briar’s eyes opened wide as a man appeared from the tree-lined path. His commanding presence loomed over me evenfrom across the clearing. His dark suit coat brushed against the woman’s flowing dress as they moved closer. My stomach sank. How had Cormac found me?

That damn phone call.

He tilted his head as he spoke with ease. “Oh, come now, brother. You can’t convince me that money would be an issue for someone like you after all these years.”

“Brother?” Briar’s shock emanated from her as her eyes darted between Cormac and me, searching our faces and bodies.

My shoulders tensed, and the muscles in my jaw twitched. I curled and uncurled my hands at my sides, my heart racing.

Cormac still held the woman’s hand, leading her to the edge of the porch and stopping just beyond the rail. He stood with his feet spread apart, his chin up. The woman gazed between Briar and me before she squeezed his hand.

I crossed my arms over my chest, stepping in front of Briar, blocking her from his view. My voice was low, each word cutting through the air with the same frustration burning under my ribs. “Cormac. I should have known. I should have known that if I called, you’d find me.”

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