Page 54 of Vampire's Breath

I grabbed my pen and wrote the address she gave me on the page in the portfolio. “I’m going to have to leave this phone, so I’ll call you as soon as possible.”

“Make sure it isn’t long,” she said. “And keep me updated on where you are.”

I smiled despite the ache in my chest. “I will. I wish you were here with me.”

Amy chuckled again. “No, you don’t, because if I were, I’d tear his heart out with my bare hands.”

I smiled, my chest blooming with gratitude for her friendship. “You always were one to protect me, weren’t you?”

“That’s what friends are for. Are you going to be all right?”

“Yes, thanks. You should get a bit more sleep.” My heart settled in my chest now that we had a plan to move forward.

“I love you. Don’t forget to check in.”

“Love you too, Mum.” I smiled as I threw the word out, content for her to keep tabs on me. I disconnected the call, glancing around the room again before placing the phone and the key card on the dresser.

I picked up the portfolio and slid it into the front pocket of my suitcase, along with all but a few of the bills Amy had hidden from me, which I put in my pocket. I took one last look around the room, throwing my backpack over my shoulder and breathing in the space that had held me and Lorcan together. Then I squared my shoulders and reached for the bedroom door.

As I passed through the sitting room, my eyes landed on the empty wine bottle on the table, and my heart sank. It sat where we’d left it, a silent witness to the afternoon, to what could have been. I ran my fingers over the glass, remembering how he had poured it for me and his lips had curled into something almost tender.

I held my breath as I tiptoed down the stairs, praying not to meet anyone. The brothers were still fighting, by the sounds of things, so they wouldn’t notice. I clicked my tongue. I wasn’t a prisoner. But I didn’t want to explain why I was leaving. I clenched my jaw, reaching for the glass doorknob of the front door. If Lorcan wanted me out of his life, it would be on my terms, not his.

Briar

Athick haze of confusion enveloped my mind, a chill settling in my stomach as I opened my eyes to the dull beige walls shrouded in shadows. The heavy chemical scent of cheap hotel cleaning products hung in the air as I rolled over on the stiff sheets. I was no longer in the comfort of my room at Dún Na Farraige Estates Incorporated. My eyes stung as the memories of yesterday came rushing back—my afternoon with Lorcan, followed by the way he so callously discussed returning to Byron Bay so he would no longer have to be around me.

I glanced at the clock on the nightstand—4:00 a.m. My tears and heart were stinging and dry. Nothing could fill the emptiness in my soul as I sat up, wrapping my arms around myself. I stared at the cell phone I had purchased on my way tothe hotel, plugged in next to the bed, and contemplated calling Amy again. I dropped my eyes to the stark white comforter that covered my feet. She wouldn’t be upset with me for calling, but she also had her own life and a wedding to plan on a much tighter budget. I could never tell her how thankful I was that she had snuck the money to me, and she was entirely correct—I never would have brought it had she told me to do so. Because Lorcan… Lorcan…

His name echoed in my mind, my breasts tingling and my sides clenching as I remembered the brush of his fingers along my ribs before he grabbed my hips. I swallowed against the lump in my throat, pressing my nails into my palm, relishing the bite. When he said he would come with me to London, I let myself believe it meant something, that I meant something to him. He had never lied or promised me anything. So why had I let myself believe? Why did it hurt so much?

I clenched my jaw and shivered as I threw the covers back. No amount of ruminating would change how things had turned out. I threw my legs out of the bed and walked to the shower, wanting to feel the warm water washing over me, washing away the echoes of Lorcan’s caress.

They still consumed me hours later as I stared out the train window, watching the English countryside blur past, gray clouds swallowing the sky. Often, trees stood between the rails and the rest of the world, forcing me to travel inside my mind instead—the last place I wanted to be. I opened the portfolio again, leafing through all the papers Cormac had given me, copies of information I never would have found without him.

Lady Isobel had been so much more than my mother and I ever dreamed, her full title being Her Grace, The Duchess of Harrowmont, Baroness of Blackcairn—before she was sentenced to forfeit her titles, before the history my mother already learnedabout her. How many lives had she led? I intended to find them all, just as my mother would have. It was the only thing I had left.

I closed the portfolio as the brakes shrieked out our arrival into Derby. As I stepped onto the platform, my suitcase in hand and bag slung over my shoulder, the cool air rushed into my lungs. Something about being on my own again felt freeing, but I couldn’t help but notice an emptiness beside me where Lorcan should have been. Had he ever been to the church I was headed to now? My heart thudded as I found a cab and made my way toward the cathedral that had once hosted the grand wedding of the Duke of Harrowmont to the Lady Isobel of Blackcairn.

After a quick cab ride, the cathedral loomed above me, its towering spires piercing the storm-heavy sky. As I walked in the door, the scent of damp stone and old candle wax filled the air, washing over me and drawing me back in time. I could imagine the sanctuary decorated with flowers, the air heavy with their perfume. It was before Queen Victoria wore her famous white gown, so what did Lady Isobel wear? Was it a marriage of convenience, or had she been allowed to marry for love?

“May I help you?” A woman standing at a desk at the entrance to the sanctuary pulled me back to the present.

I closed my eyes, quickly centering myself, then opened them. “Maybe. I was wondering if you had any information on the wedding of the Duke and Duchess of Harrowmont?”

She chuckled. “I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific.”

I pressed my lips together. Of course more than one Duke and Duchess of Harrowmont would have married here. “I’m sorry, Lord Aldric and Lady Isobel.”

She clenched her jaw. “Oh, you mean Isobel Blackcairn. Those records aren’t kept here. You might find something at Harrowmont Hall.”

I cleared my throat. Hopefully, the entire trip trying to learn about her didn’t turn out this way. “Thank you. That was my next stop. Do you mind if I look around?”

“Be my guest.” The woman smiled as she indicated the door to the sanctuary.

I slid into a pew as I took in the Gothic architecture. Had Lord Lorcan been a guest at their wedding? Would I find any information in his journal? What if I asked Cormac about it? I traced my fingers over the polished wood of the pew, the cool surface sending chills down my arm. The vaulted ceiling arched above me, its vastness a reminder of how small we all were—that life was a mere flash in time.

An emptiness seized my chest as I realized I wouldn’t be asking Cormac about the wedding. I wouldn’t be speaking to him again because of current-day Lorcan. I needed to cut ties with all of them, even though I didn’t want to. He and Rory made me feel like I belonged there, but that was a preposterous thought, especially when Lorcan didn’t want or love me.

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