Chasing Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel) (22 page)

I wanted to believe that Lochlan was right, that the fact that my senses identified Mark as an immortal being meant that he was one. That it meant I would not have to contemplate the prospect of turning him into a vampire to keep him with me, or allowing him to die of old age and then following him into death because my grief was all-consuming. But because of what I had learned in the last two days about the addictive properties of
dhunphyr
blood and the rumors that these infants were killed in
the first few hours of life, I found I could not trust an ability that I had until now taken for granted. I’d long trusted my gift to warn me of the presence of vampires and shapeshifters before I even smelled them, yet with Mark it had been the opposite: I’d smelled him before my supe-sense had been triggered. I could not help but wonder what that meant.

My phone calls yielded no immediate results, but I had not really expected they would. My associates were intrigued by my line of questioning, and I gave them the excuse that I was asking in order to locate the person or persons who had told our stories to author Vivian Drake. I’d feared it might make my vampire friends clam up, but was surprised when they all seemed eager to assist in my search—especially when I let slip the little half-truth that I’d already received word that she was planning another book, and that it would expose the massive cover-up of vampires’ addiction to
dhunphyr
blood.

I did not tell anyone I spoke to about Mark. These were people I saw almost as rarely as my father, and I did not see the point of telling them something they didn’t really need to know.

To my surprise, when it was time to bring in the animals, Juliette offered to help us. I gave her the relatively easy task of making sure all the water and food troughs were full, and said she could try to get the pigs inside but that she didn’t have to if she didn’t want to. Amazingly, though, she actually accomplished that as well.

Juliette also lent a hand in brushing down the horses, and by the time the sun could no longer be seen over the treetops, all the work was done for the day. We bid each other goodnight as I closed the barn doors, then she went back up to the apartment. Mark and I headed for the house, stopping to retrieve Moe and Cissy from the kennel. Then we did the most mundane and normal thing we’d done together yet—we sat on the couch and watched TV. I giggled a little as I sat against him and smiled, and when the movie we’d tuned into was over, we went upstairs to bed. Moe and Cissy eagerly climbed into their miniature of my bed, both turning in a circle as dogs often did, before settling down, sighing, and closing their eyes.

As Mark and I were undressing, he made a quip about whether or not we should even bother putting nightclothes on. Though I smiled when I looked at him, I surprised the both of us by saying, “As much as I enjoy the physical side of our relationship, I think that, for tonight, I just want to be held.”

After a moment of looking at me, he nodded. We each put on our usual nightclothes and climbed into the bed, and Mark pulled the sheet and light blanket over top of us. I laid my head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around me, and I sighed before falling into a blissful, contented sleep.

*****

I jerked out of sleep thinking,
Good grief, is it seven already?
before
realizing that it was not the steady buzz of the alarm that had woken me. The telephone rang for a second time, and started its third before Mark reached over and fumbled for the handset.

“Yes?” he answered sleepily, as I leaned across his chest to glance at the clock.

3 a.m
. Who the heck was calling here at three in the morning?

I was considering that it was someone who didn’t know I was a night sleeper when Mark held out the phone to me. “It’s Loch,” he said, his voice a little clearer than a moment ago.

I held the handset to my ear as I laid my head back down on Mark’s chest, smiling in spite of myself at the steady, rhythmic beating of his heart. “It’s three in the morning, Loch Ness,” I said into the phone. “What the hell do you want?”

Lochlan chuckled. “Sorry to interrupt another round of hot, lusty sex, dear sister,” he began.

“You didn’t interrupt anything but my beauty sleep,” I retorted.

He laughed again. “As if you need beauty sleep, love. You were born gorgeous,” he replied.

I had to smile. “That’s right, suck up to your mistress, slave, for waking her up in the middle of the night. Speaking of, why did you?”

“I got a hit, thought you’d want to know right away,” Lochlan said, his tone all business. “One of my contacts knows someone in Ireland who might be able to give you some information.”

“Might be able to? Loch, you know we need definite,” I said.

“I know that. But this
lass
he told me of is apparently renowned across the British Isles and half of Europe for her psychic abilities.”

An old memory popped up to the forefront of my brain.
Couldn’t be
, I thought dismissively, then amended,
Maybe
it’s a descendant
.

“Saph?
You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Where in Ireland is this famous psychic?” I asked.

“Currently resides in Briarhill, in County Galway,” Lochlan replied. “My contact said he was fairly certain you could get an audience with her without an appointment.”

“All well and good, brother, if I could get to Ireland quickly, which I can’t,” I said with a sigh.

“Why can’t you?” Mark wondered. “Based on what you were going to pay me, I can only guess you have the means to go.”

I sat up finally and looked at him. “The money isn’t the problem, Mark. I could pay for a couple of tickets just fine. But have you any idea how hard it will be to get even one round-trip ticket to Ireland on the spot, let alone two?”

Lochlan cleared his throat on the other end of the phone line. “Saph, you know you wouldn’t have to pay for the airfare,” he said slowly.

I felt my spine stiffen. “If you’re referring to what I think you’re referring to, you can forget it,” I said harshly. “No way in the seven levels of hell.”

Mark sat up then, putting a hand on my arm. “Sweetheart, what
is it
?” he queried, concern in his countenance as he looked at me.

I shook my head as Loch was saying, “Don’t be ridiculous. All you have to do is ask. He’d give you world, Saphrona—you know you have only to request it. The use of his plane is nothing.”

I growled as I ran a hand through my hair, drawing my knees up to rest my elbows
on them. “Loch, even if I wanted to—which I don’t—I cannot do that. I could not ask him for a roll of toilet paper, not after all these years I’ve spent alternately ignoring him or telling him I hate him. I will not humiliate myself that way, and I will not give him or Evangeline the satisfaction of me having to ask for anything.”

Lochlan loosed what I knew to be an aggravated sigh, and for a moment I felt bad for him. He was constantly being drawn into the battles between Diarmid and I, which I was truly sorry for, but then I remembered that this time he had brought it on himself by suggesting I ask our father for anything in the first place.

“Just tell him it’s a business expense,” Lochlan said at last. “He’s the one who wants you to track down Vivian Drake’s source, right? Tell him you recruited me to help, and I found a lead that requires a trip to Ireland because the contact will only speak to us in person.”

“Then why can’t you ask him and I just meet you at the airport?”

This time Lochlan growled. “Saphrona, you are hopeless. This feud between you cannot go on forever, damn it,” he said.

“Technically it can,” I countered. After a moment of silence from his end, I sighed resignedly. “I… I appreciate the suggestion, Lochlan. It would make things go faster, but I’ll pass. We’ll just have to take the next earliest flight to Ireland, even if it’s a day or two from now. It’s fine.”

Another moment of silence passed, and then, “Don’t. I’ll ask him.”

And then he hung up.

“Shit,” I mumbled, absently handing the phone to Mark so he could hang it up. He did that, and then raised a hand to rub my back soothingly.

“What is it, Saphrona?”

I crossed my arms over my knees and laid my forehead on them. “One of Lochlan’s contacts knows of a psychic in Ireland who may be able to give us some answers. Getting a commercial flight on this short a notice might take some time—days, even. He…he actually suggested I ask Diarmid for the use of his plane.”

“Your father has his own plane?” Mark queried, and I nodded. “Well, I do see the practicality in asking him, but honey, I’m on your side with this. If you don’t feel comfortable asking him, don’t do it. If we have to wait a couple of days to get there, then we wait a couple of days. It will make it easier for you to arrange for someone to come and take care of the animals while we’re gone.”

I turned my head so I could look at him. “Lochlan said he would ask,” I mumbled, and as if on cue, the phone rang again.

Mark reached over and picked it up. After the customary “Hello” he nodded a few times, said “Uh huh” a few, and then hung up.

“Lochlan said the plane will be ready for us within the hour, and he’ll meet us at the airport,” he told me.

That was fast
, I thought as I sat up straighter. “He actually did it? Got Diarmid to lend us the use of his precious Gulfstream?” I wondered incredulously.

“Apparently,” Mark said with a shrug, reaching over to switch on the bedside lamp before getting out of bed. “I’m gonna let Juliette know as soon as I’m dressed. More than likely she’ll want to come with us.”

At the mention of his sister, I smiled for the first time. “No doubt,” I agreed, turning in the bed so that I was facing the side he had slept on. “As protective of you as she is, I would fear her squirrely wrath upon our return were we to take off without at least telling her of our intentions.”

“Squirrely wrath?”
Mark queried with a laugh, as he rummaged through one of his boxes for clean clothes.

I chuckled. “When we get back I’ll introduce you to my pal Foamy the Squirrel,” I said, reaching for the phone.

After apologizing profusely for waking him when I called, I reported to my nearest neighbor, Harry Mitchell, that I had to leave town for a family emergency, and could he have his boys come take care of the animals for me, as they had done before? It was an arrangement he and I had made some time ago, since we were on friendly terms and I worked my farm alone. He was especially grateful to me that the pig I’d sold him two years ago had won first place at the county fair, and second at the state fair livestock show.

Thanking Harry and hanging up, I rose and gathered my own clothes, laying them out on the bed before heading for the bathroom to shower. Mark, noticing what I was doing, followed me, and of course we were unable to resist a repeat of yesterday’s bathing exercises. When we exited the shower half an hour later, both of us clean and refreshed and limbered from the sex, he was slightly woozy from the loss of blood he had allowed me to drink, and I felt fantastically energized.

“We should get going,” Mark said when we got downstairs and I began to gather things to make breakfast.

I shook my head. “Mark, the fact that you are okay with me taking a drink from you at all still amazes me, as does my ability to control myself to keep from taking too much. Because you do that, because you take care of me that way and trust me that much, I’m going to take care of you this way. You’ll replace the blood faster if you eat something.”

“I feel fine,” he said stubbornly. “Loch said—”

“That plane isn’t going to go anywhere without us,” I said. “I’m fairly certain my brother will understand the need for sustenance on your part.”

“Fine.
I’ll go and get Juliette,” he said, then walked out the back door.

I sighed,
then
went downstairs to the basement, where my deep freezer was. Although what I had drank from Mark would keep me up and buzzing for hours yet, I nevertheless wanted to keep myself in the habit of drinking animal blood—it wouldn’t be right for me to depend solely on Mark for that portion of my diet. When I was back upstairs with a bottle of frozen cow’s blood in my hand, he and Juliette had come in. She informed me as I put the bottle in the refrigerator that after Mark had told her where we were going, she’d taken it upon herself to call for some backup.

“Backup?” I queried with one eyebrow raised.

Juliette nodded.
“Yup.
One of my packmates will be meeting us at the airport to act as extra security for Mark.”

Mark groaned and I looked over at him. “Jules, I hardly think that’s necessary. It’s just going to be the three of us and Lochlan,” he told her.

“Going to see some psychic who is the consort of vampires,” she said pointedly.

“You don’t know that.”

She gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Mark, who was it that told you about this person?
A vampire.
Who told him?
Another vampire.
Which leads me to conclude that our contact in Ireland is the same or yet another vampire.”