Page 9 of Vampire's Breath

Lorcan’s shoulders softened. “I used to love parties, but it has been a while. These days, I prefer to keep to myself.” His gaze held mine, the warmth returning to his eyes.

I hesitated, reluctant to let the moment slip away, but I finally smiled and pulled in a breath, hoping my tone didn’t betray too much. “Let me see what I have by way of the tea. Of course, I can always order more if necessary.”

I cleared my throat and crossed the short distance to the shelves next to the window facing the house, which held jars of dried herbs, some harvested from the garden center.

“Old man saltbush…” I traced my finger along the jars, finally landing on the right one. “Here we are.” I took the jar down, appraising its contents. I sneaked a glance at him, and my heart fluttered. “I believe I have about 500 grams, but we’ll have to weigh it to be sure.”

He dragged his gaze away from me to the jar. “That’ll work.”

I reached for a paper bag tucked into the end of the shelf and began filling it after placing it on the scale on the corner shelf.

“What are you hosting tonight?” he asked, his voice uncertain.

“It’s a charity event Amy convinced me to do,” I said, focused on the leaves falling into the bag. “We’re raising money for a newholistic garden at the Children’s Center. The money will pay for the plants, beds, and upkeep. It’s a great cause. You should stay.”

With the leaves weighed out, I looked up at him in time to see hesitation ghost through his eyes. He held my gaze for a moment before shaking his head.

“No, no. You don’t want me here. It’s hard enough for me just to speak to you. I don’t do well in crowds.” He shifted in his seat, tension tightening his posture.

I folded over the top of the bag and placed it on my desk, disappointment washing through me. “No one here is going to bite, I promise.”

He raised his eyebrows and twisted his lips into a crooked smile. “And how do you know that?”

The mischief was back in his eyes, making them dance.

“Maybe I don’t.” I laughed, fidgeting with the top of the bag. My stomach fluttered with a curiosity I hadn’t felt in a long time. I yearned to keep him here just a little longer. “Could I get you a drink? It’s a free bar.”

Lorcan exhaled slowly, his tone polite. “Thank you for inviting me, but I promise—I wouldn’t be much fun. The last time I was at a party was ages ago.”

A knock echoed through the office, and a look of relief washed over Lorcan. We both turned to the door. I forced out the air from my lungs in a resigned sigh. “Come in.”

Amy poked her head in. “Hey, Briar. The bartenders out in the greenhouse need help. Something about finding power for the ice machine.”

“You couldn’t help them?”

Amy shook her head. “No, it’s just—maybe the greenhouse was a bad idea and the plants… There’s no power. And Hugh’s just got here.”

I blinked hard. “Okay. I’ll be there in a minute. Let me just finish with Mr. O’Cillian’s order.”

His voice was soft as he glanced between Amy and me. “Is there anything I can help with?”

My spirits rose. “I don’t know. Did you want to come and see? If not, at least there’s a bar there, and I can get you a drink.”

He smiled, making his eyes crinkle. “Sure, I’d love to see more of your place.”

Amy’s eyes twinkled as I walked past her, obviously happy at the turn of events. I wondered what had made Lorcan change his mind about staying.

Lorcan

What was I doing? I had come here to purchase the old man saltbush, then leave. The last place I wanted to linger was here, yet she intrigued me. She stood almost five feet six, with soft, wavy, light brown hair that framed the smooth, luscious, sun-bronzed skin of her oval face—skin that spoke of countless hours outdoors, even though it glowed with a dewy softness I longed to feel under my touch. Her brown eyes held both a lightness and a sadness that almost seemed to match my own; that of a family lost. Her lips, painted a deep wine red, rested softly together, with just a hint of space between them. She moved with an effortless grace, drawing me toward her. I hadn’t wanted to speak to anyone, yet here I was, fixated on a womanwhose spirit was almost magnetic with a familiarity I couldn’t ignore.

The fire warmed my skin as we passed it, a sharp contrast to the chill of the night air, while the logs cracked and popped, sending tiny embers spiraling to the sky. I kept my senses heightened, hearing every word from every conversation. Several hundred years ago, if I were at a party like this, I would allow my senses to dull, relax, and enjoy the merriment with my brothers. Inevitably, I would find some woman whom I could take away from the main group and enjoy the feel of her lips, but more importantly, the taste of her blood on my tongue. Gone were those carefree days.

The mingling scents of warm bodies, laughter, and clinking glasses grew oppressive, stirring something dark within me. The chatter blurred into an unsettling hum, pressing like a warning. It was a good thing I’d already fed today, or this might be a problem. My bloodlust was under control for now.

Why did Briar want me to stay for this party? Why didIwant to stay? Around me, the laughter swelled as more people arrived. Every time I turned my head, it felt like there was more noise and more people than I had seen in a long time. I breathed steadily. It wasn’t the party I didn’t want to leave. It was Briar.

I followed her quick stride down a path toward a glass structure nestled close to a fence. The chatter didn’t diminish back here; the pathway was lined with people. Another smaller fire drew revelers close while the sounds of vehicles driving by on the other side of the fence joined the cacophony. Sound crushed me, reminding me I had never been an extrovert but merely more tolerant.

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