The Dracove (The Prophecy series) (35 page)

“I thought you said you wouldn’t bite me?”

“I said I wouldn’t turn ye. The biting, I couldn’t help. I needed the nourishment an’ ye offered your neck. I finally gave in to your devilish ways.” He smirked. “I can bite ye without changin’ you. I just needed to be careful, especially since I hadn’t fed in several days.”

“Oh,” she replied with a touch of sarcasm he’d come to know so well. “I’d ask where the marks went to, but after seeing some of the things I saw last night, I don’t think I’ll go there.”

“Just a bit o’ magic, is all.”

“Right. Okay. What are we doing today?”

“I thought we’d go visit someone. I’d like ye to meet him.”

“Who?” She licked her lips and took another bite of bacon.

“An old friend o’ mine. He might be able to help us with a few things, answer some questions I have regardin’ what happens in the event o’ Cianán’s death.”

Silence filled the kitchen. Her shields rose, blocking him. He had no warning of the words about to fall out of her mouth.

“You should just turn me and get it over with. You’ll have to at some point.”

He shook his head. “We’ve already been over this.”

“I know, but I have to keep trying,” she said with a devilish grin. “Besides, I think I’m already on my way there. I went to pick up my bag to find something to wear and it didn’t seem to be as heavy as it was yesterday.”

He watched her for a moment, the way the sunlight basked upon her face and hair, and the beautiful colors appearing within the long locks. She almost looked like his painting of The Morrigan she loved so. Almost. And she definitely looked like his lost love.

“Why do ye want this so much?”

Fire blazed in her eyes. “Because I love you. I want to be with you, in your life, no matter what it may be. I’ll be vulnerable to Cianán this way . . . being human. If you change me, I might be able to help you better.”

“You didn’t hear a word I said last night, did ye? I told you I don’t know what’ll happen to ye if I do it.”

“And I think that’s your excuse to not torment me with a life you hate. But hey, I could be wrong.”

A low growl emanated in his throat.

She slapped his shoulder. “Don’t you growl at me in anger or frustration, ever!”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He cleared his throat. “It’s not an excuse, y’know.”

She held his chin and looked him in the eye. “Here’s my two cents: if you change me—you, not someone else—Cianán might not be able to use me in this sacrifice.”

He stared at her, completely stunned and pissed for not thinking of that. “We’ll ask Cearbhall. Go get ready. I’ll take Tobak out.”

She grabbed another piece of bacon and a biscuit before jumping off his lap and running through the kitchen door.

Thoughts tumbled through Grant’s mind and he stared at the table. They
should
be together forever. There was no reversal for him he knew of, no way for him to become mortal again. If there were a way, at least a quarter of the vampyres in this world would have used it.

He wished Kylie wasn’t the one Cianán searched for all these years. Grant hadn’t loved anyone like this in centuries, and he just happened to fall for the one woman in the world the man he hated most in the universe was after . . . again.

There was something seriously wrong with his love life.

Thinking back, he was fairly certain Siobhán wasn’t the Chosen One. She wouldn’t have been strong enough metaphysically for what Cianán intended her for. She bore the mark, but it was much more than that.

Grant never thought he could love another woman after Siobhán. He wondered if Kylie could survive this malevolence they were about to go up against, her being vulnerable as a mortal, after all. It worried him. He couldn’t fight Cianán when he was worried about her. She’d be defenseless against Cianán, with only the locket to protect her.

If he and Kylie could be a normal mortal couple, they wouldn’t have to deal with him. But that wasn’t going to happen and Grant knew it.
Wishful thinking.
He stared at the half-eaten plate of food in front of him before he looked up.

“Stop it,” he said.

Stop what?

Tryin’ to read my mind.

I wasn’t—

Aye, you were, don’t lie to me
, he said sternly, trying not to laugh.

I have to practice, don’t I?

Not on me.

Why? Are there more deep dark secrets you haven’t told me about yet?

No, I think ye know just about everythin’ now,
he said, laughing. “C’mon, girl, let’s go for a stroll.” He opened the kitchen door and Tobak bolted outside.

Grant walked Tobak out to the peaceful climate. She ran after the ball he threw for her. Waves crashed against the rocks beneath the cliffs. He listened to them and waited for the wolf to return. Instead, she jumped around in the tall green grass and pounced on the red ball.
Playful little mutt.

Don’t call my wolf a mutt.

He walked toward Tobak, laughing. She saw him coming, picked up the ball, and growled playfully. She jumped to one side, then the other. When he got close enough to steal the ball, she turned tail and ran as fast as she could. He chased her, but was laughing too hard to catch up. He doubled over and feigned fatigue. Tobak stopped and turned around, panting heavily, her tongue hanging out of the side of her jowls. He motioned for her to come to him. She walked up to him and dropped the ball. Her tail wagged— a hopeful cue for him to pick up the ball and throw it again.

“Don’t tire easily, I see.”

He picked up the ball and teased Tobak with it. Kylie stepped outside, watching. Grant threw the ball her way, and Tobak ran to her, with him closely behind.

He ran up to Kylie, grabbed her, and swung her around. God damn, this woman—
his
woman—was beautiful. Grant set her down, took her head in his hands, and kissed her deeply.

When they killed Cianán, he might become mortal again, if that was his destiny. He wouldn’t change her, but if there were even a small chance for him to be mortal again, he’d do everything in his power to make it happen. Grant wanted to grow old and die with Kylie. He would gladly welcome death again if he knew she would be there waiting for him. Their souls would be together forever. That was what she wanted—to be with him—and he knew in the depths of his soul, it was what he wanted as well.

“What’s gotten into you?”

He looked into her eyes, shaking his head, and kissed her again. “I fuckin’ love you.”

She beamed. “Well, I
fucking
love you too.”

“Ky, I couldn’t bear to lose ye to a mortal life. Unable to grow old with ye, have children with ye. I can’t live without you, but I can’t make you like me. I won’t . . . not right now, not unless it’s crucial. We’ll see if Cearbhall knows. I have to be sure before goin’ up against Cianán. I have to know what I’m dealin’ with. Besides, we’re gonna need the help.”

“Okay, I can accept that . . . for now.”

“It’ll take us a couple of hours to get there—he lives in Southern Ireland—but we have some things to do first. C’mon.” He took her hand, led her back through the house with Tobak right at their heels.

Grant and Kylie walked up to the old, majestic building. Kylie stared at its architecture. It reminded her of an old cathedral, with its arches, peaks and stained glass, like something one would see in New York City or Boston. Creatures sat perfectly placed around the roof, their stone eyes watching them.

Gargoyles?
She looked at Grant and he nodded, smiling at her. She didn’t remember seeing a cathedral with gargoyles on it, but she reminded herself the building wasn’t a cathedral; it was someone’s home. The gargoyles looked alive. The last remnants of the sun drifted across their stone faces, forming shadows in just the right areas, bringing them to life.

She was certain one of them moved.

It’d taken a couple of hours to drive there, nearly to the opposite end of Ireland, but it felt longer. She wished there’d been a faster way. Grant said he tried not to fly much. She’d like to see him fly. He probably didn’t fly during the day, though. Not to mention, he’d have had to carry her, if he could. She wondered if he changed into a bat or something. It was unlikely; he’d told her he couldn’t change his shape.
So, maybe wings sprout out of his back?
He never told her how he did it, but then again, she was fairly certain there were a lot of things he hadn’t told her yet.

Grant grabbed hold of the iron ring protruding from the knocker—a gargoyle with a mouth full of sharp teeth—and slammed it down once. The thunderous noise rang through the door.

Kylie shuddered; it hurt her ears.

They waited. An eerie silence encompassed them.

She couldn’t stand it. “How old is this place?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Fourteen, maybe fifteen hundred years—”

“Fifteen hundred? Are you serious?”

He smiled. “Aye. This island has been inhabited for thousands o’ years. Didn’t they teach ye that in history class?”

“They taught us about our country, not yours. If they did, I don’t remember; school was a long time ago.” She cocked an eyebrow. “And how old are you?”

He laughed and the door opened. An old man appeared in the doorway. Grant didn’t seem to recognize him.

“May I help you?” He thoroughly scrutinized the two of them, which made Kylie a little uncomfortable.

“We’re here to see Cearbhall. Is he in?”

“He is not awakened yet. Come back later.” He went to shut the door, but Grant stopped it with his hand.

“Wait,” Grant said. “It’s important. Tell ‘im Grantlund MacNessa is here to see him. It’s just about dusk, which means he’ll be up soon. I must speak with him urgently.”

The man, Kylie assumed he was the butler, stared at them. Finally, he stepped to the side, opening the door for them. He shut the door.

Kylie shuddered at the creepy creaking sound it made.

“I’ll wake him, but he’ll not be pleased,” the old man said and walked around them.

Grant nodded.

“Wait here.”

“Thank you,” Grant said.

Kylie watched the butler climb the stairs. When he was out of sight, Grant looked at Kylie, and she heard his voice inside her head.
Don’t leave my side.