Carwyn’s breath caught when the idea of ‘not at all’ and Brigid Connor collided.

“Oh, God.”

“What?”

He cleared his throat and willed away the mental images. “Nothing. What’s the letter?”

“It’s from Tywyll in London.” Giovanni set his elbows on the kitchen table and looked at him. “I’m going to have to leave. I’ve already called the plane to Santiago. Can you stay?”

“Of course.” He ignored the pang of disappointment. He had hoped to get back to Scotland in the next couple of weeks. “What’s in London?”

“The irritating bastard has journals that Stephen left with him for Beatrice. I have a feeling they have to do with the elixir, so we need to get them and he won’t send them. He’s asking me to come fetch them myself.”

“That is irritating, but I’m guessing they’re important.”

“I won’t know for sure until I see them, but I hope they might shed more light on the elixir Stephen was so concerned about. And since I’m going to be there, I thought I’d try to meet with Jean in France and Terry and Gemma, as well. Should I go by to see Deirdre?”

Carwyn shook his head. “I don’t think you need to. She’s quite busy right now. There was some damage to the house in Wicklow. They’re having to rebuild.”

“Oh?”

He debated telling Giovanni about Brigid, but what was there to say?

I’m irritatingly fascinated with a woman for the first time in hundreds of years. She’s young, intriguing, and I’m suddenly feeling older than dirt. She’s also Roman Catholic, so she probably won’t touch me with a ten-foot pole.

He cleared his throat. “Nothing to concern yourself with. How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“I’m aiming for no more than two weeks, but we’ll see. Who knows how long it will take me to track down Tywyll once I’m there.”

“He does operate on his own timetable.” The enigmatic water vampire always had. He was an information trader, or that was as much as anyone seemed to know about him. Tywyll went where his whispering sources led him, up and down the River Thames as he had for thousands of years. His wells of information were vast and mysterious. Who knew what he might know?

Giovanni was still talking. “And I think we’ll probably end up going to Rome soon. Stephen mentioned a contact there, and I have a few ideas about who that might have been.”

“Oh?” He cringed internally. Carwyn hated Rome, but if Giovanni and Beatrice went looking for clues into Ioan’s murderer, he’d go.

“I want those journals before I draw too many conclusions, but this elixir…” Giovanni crossed his arms and shook his head. “When I first heard of it, I had so many hopes that it might be a cure for our thirst, but the more I find out, the more dangerous it seems.”

Carwyn frowned and a thought began to tickle the back of his mind. “So… this elixir. It was supposed to give humans vampire-like health and healing?”

“Yes.”

“And then if a vampire drank from one of them, it was supposed to cure bloodlust so we wouldn’t need to drink again?” He had to admit, the thought of being free from bloodlust was more than appealing.

“That’s what the book Stephen found said. It was written by Geber, a medieval Persian alchemist. He was working with four vampires, one of each element, and his manuscript said that he had stabilized vampire blood so that human beings could ingest it and reap the benefits.”

Carwyn rubbed a hand along the stubble that dotted his chin. “A cure for bloodlust?”

“Apparently.”

“Given by altering human blood.”

“That’s what it sounds like. What are you thinking?”

Pieces of a conversation months before drifted to his mind.

“She asked me if there were any drugs that could be intoxicating to immortals.”

“Ridiculous question. …alcohol and drugs do nothing to us… nothing. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Carwyn frowned. “I’m thinking that this elixir sounds an awful lot like a kind of drug for immortals.”

“I suppose…” Giovanni shrugged. “In a way, I suppose it is.”

Both immortals fell into silence until Giovanni said, “I should get back to my wife.”

A sharp longing rose in Carwyn as he remembered his conversation with Isabel. What would it feel like to find that person? The one who completed you. The one who embodied home and belonging. It was hard to imagine. He had been alone for so, so long.

“Give her my best. Tell her I’ll be up later tonight, if she’d like some company. And she should call Ben when she gets a chance.”

The dark-haired vampire chuckled. “Yes, Father.”

Chapter Sixteen

Scotland

March 2011

Brigid was lying in bed, her eyes closed, trying to picture the last image of the sun that she could conjure. When was the last time she’d looked at her shadow? At the light reflecting off the river? She had woken for the night and opened the shutters to a beautiful full moon, but her thoughts had immediately turned to its more vivid cousin.

“Brigid?”

A quiet knock came at the door. It was Max. She exchanged a glance with Madoc, whose ears had perked when he heard the sound. “Yes?”

“You’ve a guest downstairs.”