“He’s quite elderly then. Is he in good health?” The loss of a long-time servant could push a vampire like her patient over the edge.

“He is. I’ve considered…” For the first time, the Englishman seemed truly ill at ease. “Do you know anything about Elixir?”

Anne froze. “I know it’s very dangerous. And is a death sentence for humans. As a doctor, I would never recommend it.”

“He’s old anyway. If it could give him a few more years…”

“As I said, I wouldn’t advise it. From what I’ve heard, it’s a very horrible death.”

“Oh.” The Englishman looked put out. “Well, probably not a good idea, I suppose.”

“Do you know anyone who has Elixir?”

The man’s cagey expression gave her nothing. “I travel. There are ways to acquire what one needs.”

“I see.”

Damn. She needed to talk to her sister in Belfast, and she’d have to inform Terrance Ramsay in London. She had ways of warning those in leadership without breaking confidentiality, and Elixir wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

You should tell Murphy too.

She pushed the thought to the back of her head and wrapped up her session with the patient. She put him on the schedule for six months later, an average span between visits for her vampire clients.

Anne took Alexander’s hand at the door to her visiting room. “I do hope you’ll consider calling on your son.”

The brush of amnis that passed between them wasn’t anything the other vampire would remark on. It was friendly and warm. Anne held on for a few moments, “pushing” a sense of well-being toward him along with a strong suggestion that he visit his son.

It wasn’t much. Nothing her patient might be able to detect. But Anne had little doubt he’d follow through on her “suggestion.”

Vampires could plant far stronger impressions in humans, of course. But the fact that Anne had any influence at all was her most closely guarded secret. The revelation of her “gift” would get her killed immediately, no matter whose daughter she was.

Vampires held fast to the confidence that amnis—the immortal current that connected them to the elements and gave them life—worked as a shield around their mind, protecting it from the manipulation humans were vulnerable to. And for most vampires, it was true.

But Anne had learned early on in her life that she had just enough influence over those around her that she could nudge them into doing her will.

An instant death sentence for her should her secret get out.

She lived quietly. She had strong allies. And she had worked very hard to become a trusted individual to people like her client. After all, being the one entrusted with secrets held its own kind of security.

She walked with Alexander down to the car where his driver was waiting.

“It was good to see you, Anne.”

“And you. Safe travels.”

Anne watched the lights retreat before she wandered down to her dock overlooking Galway Bay. She sat on the edge overlooking the quiet inlet where grass and rushes rustled in the night breeze. The moon reflected off the water, and the damp salt air soothed her senses. She glanced around to make sure the night birds and the fishes were her only company, then she stripped off her woolen wrap and dove into the sea.

She felt the vast strength of the ocean at her back, holding her body up, surrounding her, embracing her.

Anne never felt quite as lonely in the ocean.

None of us is meant to be alone.

“Áine.”

She ignored the memory of his voice on the wind, blaming it on the faint tug of the blood that whispered to her.

After one hundred years of solitude, it was hardly worth looking back.

Or at least that’s what she told herself.

HER secretary, Ruth, popped her head in just minutes after Anne arrived at her office the next night.

“Brigid Connor is coming to see you tonight. I told her it was fine, yeah?”

Brigid was one of the few vampires to whom Ruth would give automatic entry. The human woman had been with Anne for over twenty years and had come to remind Anne of the russet-haired Irish terriers Ruth bred. Her wiry red curls were touched with grey, and her face was more lined, but Ruth was cheerful until provoked. Then she could become snappy, even to Anne’s immortal clients.

But she had a soft spot for Brigid. The fire vampire had lived with Anne for a month after she’d turned, and the two of them had become confidants. They’d long ago severed their professional relationship. Now they were just friends. Brigid still made the two-and-a-half-hour drive for long weekends when she needed a break from Dublin life or her very intense mate.

“Sure thing,” Anne said, already anticipating the visit. “Did she say when?”

“Early, I think. You don’t have a client tonight until the Russian at three.”

“Excellent.”

Anne never used immortal’s names in her appointment book. She lived a quiet life and was still under her powerful sire’s aegis, but the secrets she knew made her a target. Most of the immortal world left her alone because attacking her or any humans she cared for would be considered too aggressive. Over time, Anne’s home had come to be considered neutral territory. So far, all her clients respected this, but she still kept on constant alert.

“You’ve got free time now. Did you want to feed?” Ruth asked. “You haven’t this month.”

Anne let out a breath and felt her fangs aching in her gums. She pushed down the thread of unease in her belly and nodded.