Page 81 of Vampire's Breath

“No, my dear. You won’t.”

She took another step forward, trying to herd me into the rocks. And it was working, I realized, as my mouth went dry, feeling the earth rising behind me.

“Because if you’re looking for them—if you’re trying to learn—then that means you know too much.”

I put my hand out to touch the sharp stones beside me and swallowed air. What did she mean, I knew too much? I only knew what Cormac and Lorcan had told me. I tightened my hand into a fist, glancing around. She blocked my path, the only way back to the parking beyond her. My pulse pounded in my ears.

Her face twisted, and I caught sight of fangs descending from her upper gums just before her snarl reached my ears, and she launched herself at me.Vampire.How was it true that vampires were real?

My breath left me in a strangled gasp, and the world tilted. This couldn’t be happening. But I didn’t have time to worry about it as she crashed into me, knocking me into the wall. I struggled, pushing at her face while I kicked my legs, trying to get them between us. My arms shook with the exertion of holding her head away from me, my fingers digging for her eyes.

My hands pushed into the air, and I fell forward onto my knees with a gasp. My chest heaved, my pulse pounding so loudly it took me a moment to register the sound of her body hitting the ground. A strangled sob came from my core as I clutched at my heart.

I looked up. The man from the overlook stood in front of me, his ginger hair framing his pale face and ocean-blue eyes. He didn’t look at me, his eyes never leaving the vampire pushing herself up from the crumpled heap she had fallen in at the water’s edge.

“How did you get down here so fast?” I gasped out the question.

His eyes flicked briefly to me before returning to the vampire as he extended his hand toward me. “Never mind that. Let’s get you inside.”

I used his steady posture to pull myself up. His grip was firm and solid, as though he knew he had nothing to fear from anything, including the vampire he had just stopped from attacking me—the vampire who was now snarling off to his right.

I tensed beside the man and gripped his hand a little tighter. Every nerve in me screamed to run, but the man clenched his jaw before he gave my hand a gentle squeeze and turned to face her, bending his arm behind his back so he never broke our connection. He spread his legs apart, and his shoulders relaxed. “Enough.” His voice was cold and sharp. “This one is mine.”

His words sent a bolt of something—fear, disbelief, maybe even something darker—straight through me. What did hemean? He shifted his posture to stand fully between the woman and me, blocking her from approaching me as she inched toward us.

She froze and hissed at him. “Why is it you can never abide by the truce?”

He laughed—low and dark. “Because the truce is between you and my parents,” he said, his voice deadly calm. “And we both know that I am more than that.” There was something about the way he spoke, something final, something untouchable—like he existed beyond the rules everyone else had to follow.

I stared at the woman around the man’s broad shoulders, my fingers cradled in his.

“Now,” he continued, “I’m going to get this woman inside.” He dropped my hand as he stepped backward and put an arm around my shoulders, grabbing my bag from the ground where it had fallen. “And you are going to leave.”

His arm tightened around me, steadying me. His words were soft as we took a small step forward. “Come.”

I glanced at her; her face a mixture of fury and disbelief as I let him lead me toward the steps. I didn’t resist his protection. Maybe it was shock, or perhaps something more profound—a silent, instinctive understanding that I was safer with him than alone for now.

I leaned into the man as we walked up the steps rising through the cliff toward the manor, his arm bracing me. My heart pounded.

“You’re shaking, pet.” We reached the door at the top of the steps, and he opened it, gesturing for me to enter.

I swallowed, my brain struggling to comprehend. Fangs. She had fangs. Isobel’s stories were real. The man’s gentle hand on my shoulder brought me back to the here and now.

Had I not seen where he had taken me, I would have believed I was standing in the middle of the stone cottage, wood shelveslining the solid stone walls. The lights flickered, mimicking candles, throwing shadows around, making the room close in on me. I glanced around for a door but only found the one we had just entered. A single dark oak staircase rose from the center of the room.

“Where are we?”

“The private entrance to the manor, originally for the family to access the beach. Come up this way. Let me get you a drink,” the man murmured, gesturing to the stairs.

I hesitated, uncertainty gripping my heart. What waited for me if I ventured too far inside? His voice was gentle, coaxing, but something else was beneath it—something that made my skin prickle. Despite that, he had saved me from the woman, and for that, I was grateful.

I tried to steady my heart as I followed him up the stairs, the wooden planks creaking beneath our steps, softened by the blue silk carpeting lining the middle of the treads. At the top of the stairs, dark oak paneling gleamed in the light filtering through the leaded glass window. Two settees faced each other in a nook overlooking the harbor. I started toward them, but before I could sit, he brushed my arm.

“In here, pet.” He pointed toward a door, his voice gentle.

I shivered at his touch but followed his direction, relieved to be away from her—away from danger, forcing myself to remember this was Lorcan’s childhood home.

I walked through the door he pointed at into a solarium. The heat from the enormous marble fireplace dominating the wall to the right licked at my skin, but inside, I was frozen. No amount of warmth could chase away the dread curling in my chest.

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