Page 38 of Vampire's Breath

Rory’s eyes grew wide as she looked at me, and she tilted her head toward Briar with her lips drawn. Did she want me to console Briar? I crossed my arms over my chest.

Rory shook her head and sat on the bench, placing her hand on Briar’s knee. “We just need to regroup, but I think you need some good old-fashioned nature now. Reconnect with what you love.”

Briar lifted her head and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “What do you mean?”

“We should go to the gardens, calm down, and figure out a path forward. You know a few hours there will recenter you and help you feel better.”

“I don’t—”

“But you will because you will love it. Let’s go.” Rory started walking toward Kew Palace, and Briar meekly followed. We walked along in silence. Each step appeared to pull Briar out of her melancholic shell as her shoulders dropped and her face lightened. Rory’s suggestion had been the balm Briar needed.

When we got to the gates, Rory stopped. “I don’t think I’m up for much more walking. Lorcan, why don’t you show Briar around?”

“But—” My hands grew cold. Ashdowne’s final fall began here. I couldn’t follow in his footsteps.

“You know them as well as anyone, and you’ll have a much better time without me.”

Briar’s voice was concerned. “Are you feeling okay?”

Rory nodded. “Yes, just tired. I’ll have the car take me home and send it back for you.”

Briar looked into the park, her eyes shimmering with longing, before she turned back to Rory. “Are you sure?”

“You two have a good time. Now go.”

Briar looked at me and shrugged. “Just the two of us?”

I held my hand out in front of me toward the path. “Lead the way.”

We wandered among the trees, the crisp air circling us. Briar’s face glowed, the fresh air and foliage invigorating her. I held the door for her as we entered a greenhouse. The warm air carried the sweet perfume of orchids and the faint earthy tang of damp soil. Sunlight poured through the glass panels, casting shimmering patterns of the leafy canopy above onto thewalkway. With each new section we entered, Briar became more animated, her smile infectious.

I tried to focus on the present and the woman who now strolled next to me, her hand wrapped through my elbow, much like other women I had walked through the gardens with. My smile had faded as I kept my history to myself when we toured Queen Charlotte’s Cottage. It was unchanged from the last time I was here. Lord Ashdowne, Lord and Lady Harrowmont, and I had attended a tea Princess Augusta gave in the shade of the cottage.

If only I could take that day back. The four of us had huddled around a table with flowers, vases, and knives scattered around us, each working on creating the perfect floral arrangement. A slip of Harrowmont’s knife was all it took for Ashdowne to smell Lady Isobel’s blood, triggering a bloodlust I couldn’t stop, a feral desire to dominate the woman and have her as his own. Back then, I could only assume it was a mating bond, yet something wasn’t right.

My steps faltered as the memory flowed through me. I had been planning to arrange for Ashdowne to be sent far from us, South Africa or India, on a diplomatic mission. The wars would have provided his desires with the necessary cover and removed him from Lady Isobel’s sphere. But I hadn’t had it arranged before Ashdowne drained Harrowmont of his blood in an effort to take her.

Briar’s hand burned on my arm. I wanted to step away, but part of me relished being beside her. But Ashdowne hadn’t been able to control himself after just a whiff of Lady Isobel’s blood. He had been obsessed, worse than my brother with his mate. It had been an unnatural, evil bond that Lady Isobel didn’t want.

“What are you thinking about?” Briar’s soft voice invaded my thoughts, her curious gaze catching mine.

A hollowness filled my chest as I clenched my jaw, glancing at the greenery around us. I would have to ensure no drop of Briar’s blood ever crossed my lips. “I was just thinking how beautiful this is. And wondering whether our ancestors ever spent time here together.” My voice was softer than I intended, and I chided myself for showing some of what I felt for her. “Floral arranging was a popular pastime in Lady Isobel’s day. I’m sure she would have visited here.”

Briar’s fingers brushed against the soft petals of a rose. “Maybe my love for horticulture is passed down in my blood?” A wistful smile played on her lips as she raised her eyes to mine.

My words carried the weight of unspoken connections threading through generations. “There are stranger things than that.” I smoothed a stray hair behind Briar’s ear. “I can see them strolling along the same paths together,” I mused aloud, holding her gaze in mine for much too long.

I flicked my eyes away and walked again. How could I be so stupid as to allow a moment like that? I cleared my throat. “Tell me about growing up. You seem deeply invested in learning about Lady Isobel, but it feels so different from your everyday work.”

I glanced at her. Briar’s eyes sparkled as she smiled. “It is. But growing up was worlds away from this.” She gestured around us. “I didn’t have grand homes or exotic places to go. It was just Mum and me in our little corner of Byron Bay. I can’t imagine what your childhood was like.”

I forced a laugh, not allowing her to turn the conversation to me. “My childhood isn’t what we’re discussing right now.”

Still, growing up in the small cottage, running over the grounds of Dún Na Farraige—before the manor even stood—flashed in my memory. My brothers and I drank the blood-laced wine given to us by our parents to stave off starvation. We hunted and farmed, sustaining the Clan O’Cillian. Over time, theclan dispersed as the curse that settled over my father consumed his siblings. My fingers flexed unconsciously at my sides. I couldn’t describe any of this to Briar.

We stopped again in front of a pond, huge lily pads covering the water. I focused on her as she gazed at the gardens with awe. The look on her face was exquisite, lightening my heart as she took in the sights. I reached forward, my fingers resting on the curve of her delicate waist. Her breath hitched ever so slightly, but her body relaxed at my touch.

“So tell me about your childhood,” I said, softening my voice.

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