The Dracove (The Prophecy series) (6 page)

Definitely not Rob. He’s not that tall.

She moved her gaze slowly up his muscular chest—taking in how well built he was with broad shoulders and arms damn near the size of one of her legs—until she fixated on his face. The fair-haired mystery man from the bar smiled down at her. He had a handsome, chiseled face, and long flowing blonde hair. Her mind instantly brought forth an image of Fabio and she had to mentally shake the image away because
hell no
to that idea.

“Might I dance with ye?” His voice was deep, rustic, and laden with a strong Irish brogue.

She returned the smile and nodded silently.

He leaned forward. “My name’s Cianán Lorcan.”

His breath against her ear sent a chill through her.
Cianán. What an interesting name
—

“Mine’s Kylie O’Rourke.”

“A beautiful name, lass. ‘Tis a pleasure to meet’cha, Kylie.” He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips.

“Thank you.” Her face heated. “And likewise.”

“You’ve such beauty, the likes o’ which I’ve only seen in my dreams.”

She looked down, hiding her blushing cheeks within the falling hair around her face. Compliments always embarrassed her, especially when coming from a handsome man.
Man, this guy is good.

They danced, and she felt like they were the only two people on the dance floor for a few blissful moments. Her hand slipped away from his at the end of the one slow song for the night. The fantasy abruptly ended with Rob standing in front of her when she turned toward the bar.

“Hi Kylie,” he said, his words full of venom. He smiled in his condescending way.

“Robert,” she said sharply. “What do you want?”

“Is that any way to talk to yer boyfriend?” He tried to grab her, but had been drinking.

She easily pushed him away. From the corner of her eye, she saw Cianán step closer.

“You mean EX-boyfriend.”

“Aw, c’mon now, Kylie, I know we’re takin’ a break—”

“We are not. It’s been months. It’s over, Rob.”

“You can come home with me and we’ll work it out.” He reached out to touch her arm.

She laughed at him and jerked away. “Maybe I don’t want to.” She glanced back at Cianán.
I definitely don’t
. “We broke up, Rob. A long time ago. I’m telling you one last time, it’s over. Deal with it.”

He looked Cianán up and down. “I don’t think so.”

“I don’t really care what you think.”

He clenched his fists and lifted his right arm, but Kylie stood her ground. She wasn’t going to cower away from him anymore. Cianán took a step forward, intimidating him with his size. Kylie could swear he grew another foot. He gave Rob a look that said ‘hit her, if you dare’.

Rob lowered his arm.

“Go away,” Kylie said.

Rob returned his glare from her to the large gentleman next to her. Cianán taunted him with a grin.

“Who’s this guy?” He returned his drunken gaze back to her. “I can take ‘im.”

“Would you just leave me alone?”

“Wha’s this guy got that I don’t?”

She raised her eyebrows and smiled. “You’re kidding, right? Where should I begin?” She felt comfortable making that statement, even though she’d just met the man. Hell, any man would be better than Rob.

“You don’t know what yer missin’,
bitch
.” The last word was loud and clear over the music. A few people turned around to watch them.

“What, your tiny dick? I hardly noticed it was gone.” It felt wonderful to say those words. Quite a few of the surrounding horde laughed at Rob.

He shook his head, made a few nasty comments under his breath, and pushed his way through the snickering crowd. She looked up at Cianán, who watched Rob walk away.

Cianán turned to her. A warm smile returned to his lips. “Pleasurable lad.”

She laughed. “Yeah, a real nice guy. I’m sorry about that.”

“S’all right. I think ye handled it well. You’ve a great strength within you.”

“Thank you. Would you like to go someplace quieter?”

“After you.” He motioned for her to lead the way.

She took his hand and they pushed through the crowd to the patio. “This is much better. Now I’ll actually be able to
hear
you.”

His eyes sparkled in the moonlight cascading across his face.

Cianán leaned a shoulder against a column and hooked his left thumb into his pants pocket. “Does that lad ‘ave a habit o’ botherin’ ye?”

“Not really, not anymore. He thinks he’s God’s gift to women, and he doesn’t even know how to treat them. It’s really kind of sad.”

He shrugged. “There’re men in the world who treat women as possessions rather than partners. Unfortunately, they ne’er learn. They see women as weak when women are stronger. Women ‘ave a much higher pain tol’rance, an’ ‘ave the ability to create life. That feat alone is as close to God as anyone could wish to get.”

Cianán memorized every detail of her face, though it wasn’t needed. She looked so much like the woman he’d lost five hundred years past. This was the first time he’d been so close to Kylie. He first saw her in his mind’s eye—visions that came long before her parents’ death—but he could never see her face until she was older. Fate wouldn’t allow him to see everything. Understandably so; he would have taken her from her parents when she was a baby.

His prey was thirty-two now, and the time to use her drew near. However, he was uncertain she bore the mark. He knew she was of Pádraig’s bloodline; her similarity to the other woman was too much to ignore. But not all of the women in the line bore the mark.

Once again, the Fates would let him know when to proceed. He’d waited this long, what were a few more days?

Kylie had such a natural beauty, and the hint of vanilla he smelled on her was such a soothing scent—

“That was an extraordinary statement,” she said at last.

“I thank you; nevertheless it’s true when ye think about it. I’ve the utmost admiration for women, for they ‘ave abilities I could never hope to achieve, no matter how hard I try.”

She smirked. “You wish to give birth?”

He chuckled. “Well, no, I don’ think I’d survive the agony. I ‘ave, however, experienced the creation of life, but to actually have a life grow inside ye, to develop within, must be exhilarating. It’s a power no man shall e’er ‘ave.”

“I’ve never met a man who thinks like you do.”

“An’ you’ll not meet one again.” He grinned. “So, Miss O’Rourke, what do ye do?”

“I’m an artist.” She lowered her head again. Her coyness piqued his curiosity. “I have a gallery in Scottsdale.”

“Canvas?”

She nodded and looked up at him once more.

“Acrylics or oils?”

“Several mediums, actually.”

He could see talking about her passion reduced the shyness. “I love the arts. I’d like to see your work sometime.”

Her emerald eyes brightened. “Certainly. I’m usually there every day.”

He nodded. “Ye must be very good to ‘ave your own gallery.”

She smiled at him. “I hope so; otherwise I’ve been wasting my time.”

“It’s what ye were destined to do, I’m certain. Do ye believe in destiny, Kylie?”

“Yes,” she said with a nod.

“So do I.”

He took her hand again and kissed the back of it. She bowed her head and cleared her throat before looking at him again.

“Where are you from? You have a strong accent.”

He smiled. “The land of Éire.”

“Oh . . . Isn’t it called Ireland now?”

He tilted his head, and touched her cheek. “An’ she certainly does ‘ave a bit o’ wit about ‘er,” he said. “Aye, that’s what most people call it.”

“But you don’t.”

“No, I prefer ‘The Land of Éire’. Means the same; however, I believe it sounds more mystical, such is the land.”

“My family is from there as well.”

“Aye, I can see it in you.”

“I didn’t think one could tell just by looking.”

“Aside from your red hair and fair skin, possibly not.” A touch of sarcasm lingered in his deep voice. “But you’d be surprised at what one can see when they look into the eyes.”

“I don’t think I’d be at all surprised,” she said.

“No? I s’pose not.” He leaned forward. “Besides, your name gives it away, Miss
O’Rourke
.”

She laughed. “Good point.”

A gentle breeze wisped its fingers through her hair . . . and then silence. The world fell away. No music . . . no chatter from the people on the patio around them . . . only the cessations of sound. He stared into her deep green eyes, unnatural with their flecks of true gold. She was Éire, a part of the land herself. He stared into her glistening eyes while they talked through the night.

He shifted his gaze to his watch. It was after midnight and he had to contact Conor soon. His few hours of playtime vanished in a snap, as it always did. Even his time with Siobhán seemed very short in comparison to his immortal existence.

“I hate to do this just after meeting ye. This has been wonderful so far, but I must go.”

“Why, is your coach going to turn into a pumpkin?”

He laughed. “If that were true, it would’ve done so by now an’ I’d be standing before ye in rags for clothes.” He tapped his watch and smiled. “May I call on you, Miss O’Rourke?”

“Yes.”

“Dinner tomorrow, if you’re not otherwise engaged?”

“I’m not.” She handed him her business card.

“I’ll call ye tomorrow then. Good eve, Kylie.”

Cianán leaned forward. She thought he was going to kiss her lips, but he moved and kissed her cheek. Then he was gone and she stood alone. She walked swiftly through the club to find Ana again, and tell her all about Cianán.

“I knew he was interested,” Ana said. “He wouldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“Well, I’m supposed to have dinner with him tomorrow night,” she replied. “I hope he isn’t boring. He doesn’t seem to be.”

“He didn’t look like the boring type.”

“True, he seems to be very old fash—“ She gasped. “Oh shit, there’s Rob again. I’ll be back.” She slipped out of sight into the crowd.

Several minutes later, she walked through the club on her way back to Ana. Her eyes locked with another man’s for only a second. But during that second, time slowed to a mere hum, leaving the two of them to share the experience of what seemed eternal. It pulled her into a world not known to her. A whirlwind of events took place in an instant, showing her past, present, and future before dissipating in a cloud.

Then the man she’d locked eyes with was gone, and she was left dizzy and oblivious as to what happened.

Grant, on the other hand, was completely aware of what’d just transpired. That mere second of a glance was like nothing he’d ever encountered in his lifetime, which had been a very long one. It was a beautiful experience, until someone bumped into him and he was knocked out of her line of sight. The idiot even tried to say Grant ran into him.
Drunken fool
. He walked away from the man, not willing to get into the confrontation in front of so many people. The man taunted him for a bit, but grew tired of it soon after. Grant continued his walk around the dance floor, ignoring him and looking for her.