Page 73 of Bishop's Flight
“The simple fact is,your son is safer with Brigid there than when he was alone with Zasha.” Carwyn was trying to calm Rose as Agnes paced in front of the fireplace in their desert mansion. “Rose, you have to believe me.”
“She’s a fire vampire!” Rose nearly screamed. “And she’s barely a decade old. When was the last time she fed, Carwyn? When was the last time she expelled energy like what you described? She’s awake now, and she’s going to be hungry andour sonwill be the only one nearby!”
Carwyn didn’t know whether to laugh or rage. “You think Brigid is going to feed on Lucas?”
Agnes looked grim. “You have to think about our perspective. She’s dangerous, and I doubt they’re going to provide her with blood to feed on. If they’re alone too long, you and I both know that she’ll revert to her instincts.”
“This is because we didn’t hand over the city!” Rose burst out. “Because you were too stubborn, Agnes. We hired this fire vampire, and now Zasha is going to use her to kill our child.”
Carwyn’s anger leached into the ground beneath him, and the house rumbled as a crack opened in the black-and-white marble-tiled floor.
“Stop it, both of you.” He snarled. “We came here as a favor because of a situation you were in.”
“A situation we never would have been in had you and your mate not killed Zasha Sokholov’s only child.” Agnes squared her shoulders and stared Carwyn down.
A deep part of Carwyn wanted to crush the woman under his hand, toss her into the nearest wall, and leave so he could go search for his mate. “Brigid would sooner cut off her own arm than harm an innocent. Get out of my way and let me look for them both.”
Agnes’s angry gaze never wavered from Carwyn, but she remained silent.
“Oh God, oh God.” Rose had pink tears running down her face. “Lucas. My baby. Where is Anna? Where is my Anna?”
Agnes snapped at a maid hovering near the door. “Get the girl in here. Rose needs her.”
Carwyn wasn’t at all sure that the best thing for Lucas’s little sister was to be the emotional support for an overwrought vampire, but it wasn’t his home.
“Lucas is safer with Brigid there,” he repeated. “There is no one more resourceful than my wife.” He stood. “I’m going to leave you and get to work finding them. Zasha Sokholov doesn’t understand mating bonds. I’ll know if I’m near to Brigid. I can look for both of them now. If they’re keeping them together, I will find them tonight.”
Twenty-Three
Brigid woke in confusion, fear, and anger. She didn’t smell the familiar scent of her mate next to her. She didn’t recognize the sounds around her or the smells.
She reared up, wincing as she hit her head on a metal railing just over the place she was resting. She hissed and her fangs fell down.
The scared heartbeat of prey filled her senses.
She rolled to the ground and crouched next to the bed, shielding her vulnerable front and sweeping her eyes around the tiny chamber.
Someone was panting, and the smell of their blood was sweet liquor to her senses.
“Please.”
Her head swung in the direction of the sound. The voice came from the corner around the bed. Brigid stayed low but leaned forward and angled her head to see the prey.
Lucas was crouched in the corner, trying to make himself as small as possible. His heart was racing, and sweat bloomed on his forehead. His eyes were pressed closed, and he appeared frozen in place.
He smelled terrified and delectable.
“Lucas O’Hara?”
His eyes opened. “Who are you?”
The hunger and rage fled, leaving Brigid alone with the fifteen-year-old boy she’d spent days searching for.
Despite their circumstances, a sigh of relief escaped her. He was alive.
One night left, and he was alive.
“I’m Brigid.” She swallowed hard and concentrated on calming her voice. “Sorry for the way I woke up. I don’t like waking up in places that I don’t know.”
