The Elemental Mysteries: Complete Series (75 page)

She continued with her forms, moving slowly and trying to let the tense waves of energy from Deirdre wash over and around her. She heard the vampire take a deep breath.

“Why did Carwyn say you were trying to scent Ioan? Isn’t he too far away?”

She saw Deirdre smirk at her out of the corner of her eye.

“You don’t know much about vampire relationships, do you?”

She blushed but continued practicing.

“Doesn’t Gio tell you anything?”

“We’re not—” Beatrice faltered. “It’s not like that with us.”
Yet
.

“He’s in love with you. Don’t you love him? You look at him like you do.”

She frowned. “You know, forgive me if I don’t feel like getting into the details with someone I hardly know.”

Deirdre snorted. “Fine. Forget I asked.”

Beatrice pushed down her irritation and focused on the slow and steady movement of her body. She could feel Deirdre still watching her.

“Sit down and talk to me, girl. It’s not like I’ve never had this discussion with any of my daughters before. Ioan, despite being a doctor, has always been squeamish about these things. Typical male.”

“I’m well aware of the birds and the bees, thanks very much.”

“You asked how I could scent my husband, and I’ll tell you how. It’s either ask me or Giovanni eventually.” Beatrice turned and Deirdre raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

She huffed and came to sit next to her on the grass, stretching out her sore muscles.

“Okay,” Beatrice asked, “what’s the big deal with smelling?”

Deirdre smiled. “You are amusing. I imagine you drive him mad in the best way. He has always taken himself too seriously.”

Beatrice remained silent, at a loss for something to say to the vampire next to her, who looked younger but whose eyes held a kind of infinite wisdom she couldn’t wrap her mind around.

“You know how our kind are sired, do you not?”

“Yes.”

“When mates…when two vampires exchange blood in small amounts over long periods of time, a different bond is formed.”

“A sexual bond?”

She shook her head. “Much more than sexual. You can have sex without exchanging blood, but when you do…”

“Yeah?”

Deirdre gazed out over the valley, still digging her hands into the earth. Her mood had shifted, and Beatrice could tell she was thinking of Ioan. “Blood exchanged in love and passion for hundreds of years. Over and over until it is so mingled…”

Beatrice’s heart raced. “What?”

“We are two halves of a whole,” Deirdre whispered. “Four hundred years we have been together. That’s why I know he still lives. If he was dead, my own blood would cry out. There would be no question.”

“So, when they said you could ‘scent’ him—”

“Our blood calls to each other if we are apart. I will be able to scent him because, if even a drop of his blood touches open earth, it will call to me.”

Beatrice was silent, staring into the distance as the stars came out around them.

“I can’t even imagine what you must be feeling right now.”

Deirdre turned her head sharply. “Do you want to?”

“What?”

“You cannot look at him the way you do and not have thought about sharing this life with him.”

She felt the tears spring to her eyes. “It’s…too much. I can’t—”

“You have to.”

“Do you think so?” She remembered Giovanni had said Ioan asked Carwyn to change Deirdre when she was human. “You made the choice. Has it been worth it?”

Deirdre’s blue eyes were wells of sorrow, as if she was staring into a grave.

“I have shared his blood for four hundred years. What do you think?”

Chapter Eleven

Dublin, Ireland

January 2010

Giovanni rang in the New Year watching a young water vampire twist into a smoldering pile of ash.

“He’s created all these children,” Carwyn muttered. “Almost indiscriminately. But none of them know anything.”

They were standing in a warehouse on the edge of the River Liffey that was thick with the scent of Ioan’s blood and Giovanni’s son, but other than faint brown smudges on the concrete floor, there was no sign of the missing doctor.

Giovanni pulled on his shirt after killing Lorenzo’s useless minion. “Did you call Deirdre tonight?”

Carwyn nodded as he watched Patrick Murphy’s people sweep the ashes out the open door of the warehouse.

“Gentleman,” said the solemn vampire in the three-piece suit. “We’ve come to the end of my leads. This warehouse was the last of the information my people had gleaned. We’ll still keep our ears and eyes open, of course. The loss of Ioan—”

“Has not been confirmed in any way,” Giovanni muttered, watching Carwyn pace at the other end of the warehouse.

Murphy tugged at the black curls on his head, obviously nervous. “If there is any further assistance I can offer to either of you while you are here...”

“It’s fine, Murphy,” he heard Carwyn spit out across the room. “I’ll expect your cooperation in the future, but if we’ve ended our leads here, I want to go back to my daughter.”

Giovanni tried not to sigh in relief. Though he knew Beatrice was perfectly safe in Wicklow, he still felt uncomfortable being without her.

“Boats,” Murphy said. “My best guess would be boats. Lorenzo is a water vampire, and he would have the resources to transport him by boat. This warehouse has river access, and we are not far from the port.”

Giovanni nodded. “We’ll keep you informed.”

“Please do. And safe travels to you both.”

They drove Ioan’s old car back to Wicklow, having located it near a church where he’d been running a clinic the night he disappeared. As they swerved through the hedgerows and over the bumpy roads on their way to the lodge, he could feel the weight of Carwyn’s worry as if it was another passenger in the car.

“I think he is dead.”

“You don’t know that, Father. And Deirdre would have sensed it.”

“She might not. Not if he was taken far away and never touched the ground.”

“Carwyn—”

“What if he is in water?
 
Or unable to touch the earth? Oh, my son,” he whispered, gripping the wheel. “My Ioan. I don’t want to contemplate this life without my boy.”

Giovanni clenched his jaw, willing the road to smooth before them.

He saw Beatrice in the front garden, practicing her tai chi forms in the dark. He nodded toward the silent guard Deirdre must have assigned to her; the young vampire nodded back before disappearing into the night. Giovanni crept toward her, not wanting to disturb her silent meditation, and watched her for a few moments in the moonlight.

She was beautiful. And so much stronger than he ever could have anticipated. Though Beatrice was still weaker than him physically, it was the strength of her mind and her determination that impressed him. She was no longer afraid to stand up to him, their argument before leaving Texas a prime example. He loved her all the more for it.

A mischievous smile crossed his lips, and he snuck up behind her. Before he could anticipate it, she stepped back, shoved her hip into his groin, and threw him off balance. Beatrice reached around, grabbing his waist and sweeping her leg through one of his as she flipped him onto his back and landed on his chest.

He blinked, looking up at her with a shocked face before he roared in laughter.

“Oh,” she said with a snicker. “It’s you.”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Don’t sneak up on me, vampire.”

He was still laughing when he brushed away the lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes. “That was marvelous.”

“I try.”

“I’ll be expecting it next time, so you better watch out.”

A twinkle came to her eye. “Oh yeah? What are you going to do—”

She broke off when he reared up and jerked her neck to the side. His fangs were bared and he let them scrape lightly across the skin of her neck before he licked up to her ear.

“Just remember, never pin a vampire face-to-face.” He rolled them over so she was lying under him, and she looked up with hungry eyes. “Unless you want this to happen.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she choked out.

He bent his head down and brushed a kiss across her flushed lips.

“It’s been on
my
mind for a while now.”

He helped her up and they walked arm in arm back to the farmhouse. Giovanni was filling her in on what had transpired in Dublin when a blood-curdling scream rent the air.

Giovanni halted, a feeling of dread washing over him. He picked Beatrice up and rushed back to the house, setting her near the young guard as he sped toward the back garden. He felt the force of Deirdre’s amnis slam into him as she wailed in Carwyn’s arms. Giovanni almost fell to his knees, but he felt Beatrice come behind him and grab his hand. He pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair as he rocked her back and forth.

“He’s dead,” Beatrice whispered, holding him close. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

Giovanni nodded. Nothing but the grief of losing half of yourself could tear a person in two the way that Deirdre Mac Cuille had been. Her screams were hardly that of a woman; they more closely resembled the death keen of the mythical banshee. She tore at her hair while Carwyn shouted, “Where, Deirdre? Where?” over and over again. She was unintelligible, gnashing her teeth and rocking back and forth as she dug her hands into the earth.

Finally, she shoved her father away, tore off her clothes, and stretched herself upon the ground. Giovanni felt the sudden jolt and sigh as the earth opened up and swallowed her whole.

Before dawn, letters were sent and calls made. Though Deirdre had not yet reappeared, some of their clan had already arrived, emerging from the valley confused and angry. Deirdre and Ioan’s children converged on their parent’s home as the scent of their father’s blood travelled through the earth from which he had drawn his power.

Giovanni took refuge from his grief in the small stone room under the mountain. He pulled Beatrice with him, and the two retreated from the overwhelming sorrow of Ioan and Deirdre’s family. Carwyn was surrounded by his children’s children, both comforting and being comforted by his kin.
 

He held Beatrice for the rest of the night, and she lay with him, quietly stroking his hair the way she knew he loved, old wounds overtaken by the ache of new loss. He fell into his day rest next to her and when he woke she remained, staring at him with her deep brown eyes.

“There are so many vampires here.”

He nodded. “Deirdre and Ioan sired or fostered many children over the years. They would take in anyone that needed a home unless they were dangerous. All their children had children, and so forth.
 
Their clan numbers in the hundreds, probably.”

Giovanni knew it had only begun. Soon, the trickle of friends and allies would become a flood as Ioan and Deirdre’s people returned to the quiet mountain their parents had called home.

“Why did they all come? I mean, what do vampires do when…”

“When Deirdre returns and the family is gathered, Carwyn will say a funeral mass.”

“I can’t—” Beatrice choked and wiped at her eyes. “How will he be able to do that?”

Giovanni took a deep breath and hugged her closer. “It’s the last thing he can do for his son.”

He could feel her tears wet on her cheeks as she lay her head on his arm.

“Tell me about him.”

He pulled her closer. She had been handling herself extremely well, considering how recently and dramatically her world had changed. For the past week and a half, she had been surrounded by humans and vampires she didn’t know, and he had left her alone for much of the time, consumed by the need to search for his friend.
 

“Ioan was kind. Intelligent. Wise,
tesoro
. He had a kind of wisdom about life and family I could only hope to gain.” He noticed the lines of stress that creased her brow. “Beatrice, there will be many vampires here and not all of them will be Carwyn’s people. Some of the water vampires who run Dublin will be here, as well as others from around the country. They do not have the same attitude toward humans that we do, so make sure you stay close to me. It will be...somewhat overwhelming. It could be dangerous if tempers run high.”

“Since I don’t want to be a beverage during the vampire version of an Irish wake, I’ll keep that in mind.”

He tried to stifle a laugh, but couldn’t.

“Sorry.” She closed her eyes in embarrassment. “Too crass?”

He shook his head and leaned over, brushing a soft kiss across her temple. “I was just thinking how Ioan would have laughed at that. Having married an Irishwoman, jokes about his adopted homeland were some of his favorites. No one loves a joke like a Welshman.”

“Will she survive?” she whispered. “Deirdre? How do you recover from something like that?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “You learn to deal with loss the longer you live. I have lost many people I cared for.”