Building From Ashes
Page 12

He saw her as soon as she turned the corner, but then, she was hard to miss. Brigid Connor had always been a tiny thing, with a stride that warned people off, despite her small frame. She was pale-skinned, with a scattering of freckles dotting her cheeks, and her garishly dyed hair was chopped short and lay in irregular chunks around a pixie face. Her large eyes were the color of amber ale and her chin came to a sharp point under a bow-shaped mouth.
Carwyn thought she looked like an extremely pissed off fairy, which amused him greatly. He grinned when he saw her bark at a boy who approached her. Then his eyebrows lifted when she reached out and took his hand. So, little Brigid had a boyfriend? Her expression as she approached was a mask of studied nonchalance.
He opened his senses to feel for the boy. Though he was in the city, and the earth beneath him was long buried, he could scent the young man, watch the subtle angles of his body language, and listen for his pulse, which was hammering with nerves, instinctively reacting to the presence of the predator he was. Good. Brigid’s heartbeat, however, was steady as a low drum. The smell of the river masked their scents as they approached.
She came to a stop in front of him and looked up with a haughty expression. “So, you’re here to check up on me?”
The boy awkwardly looked between Brigid and Carwyn. “Um… Brig—”
“It’s fine, Mark. He’s an old… family friend,” she said with a sneer. “Go ahead and I’ll meet you at the club later.”
“Are you sure?”
Carwyn gave the boy a cheerful smile and held out his hand to shake. The boy grabbed it, and Carwyn let his amnis crawl up to the boy’s mind. As the energy flooded the human’s cerebral cortex, Carwyn spoke to him. “Hello, Mark. Nice to meet you. You’re not going to remember much of me. Now piss off and leave us alone. She’ll meet you later.”
“Okay.”
He could see Brigid roll her eyes, but Mark turned and quickly walked back the way they had come.
“Why did you want to come to this old place? They haven’t hung new curtains since before I was born.” She walked past him and pulled open the door to the pub.
Carwyn looked after her and called, “Lovely to see you, as well, Brigid. I can see that your sunny demeanor has only blossomed in adulthood.”
He walked inside and took the seat opposite her in the old booth. “So, is that your natural hair color, or were you attacked by eggplant-wielding terrorists on the way out of your flat?”
She cocked a haughty eyebrow. “They were protesting at the market, actually. Maybe I should stick to blood like you and Ioan. Might be less dangerous.”
“I’d consider it, if I were you.”
“Do you really watch American professional wrestling? Been meaning to ask you. I don’t believe my aunt. No one actually watches that. It’s idiotic.”
Carwyn grinned. “What do you think?”
“I’m not sure yet. The older I get, the stranger you seem.”
He smirked. “Well, that’s not surprising. I am strange. What do you want from the bar?”
“A whiskey, I guess.”
“How about a beer?”
“How about a whiskey?”
He stood. “Guinness it is, then.”
“Hey!” She called out, but he ignored her. The girl certainly had the same acid tongue that he remembered from her childhood. To tell the truth, he’d never known her well. Like most of Ioan and Deirdre’s humans, he kept his distance. Though they remained close with their human clan, he was more circumspect in his mortal connections. He supposed that, after a thousand years, it was easier to remain unattached.
Still, there was always something about the girl that had amused him. He glanced over his shoulder as the barmen built their pints. Brigid stood slumped in her seat, the very picture of adolescent rebellion. She was smart. That had always interested him. And he loved that she threw Deirdre off balance. His redheaded daughter had always been the most stubborn in their family, taking after his oldest daughter Gemma more than anyone else. Carwyn had a feeling that Brigid and Gemma would get on just fine.
He grabbed their drinks, walked back to the table, and slid in across from her. She looked up with a droll expression. “Thanks ever so much for the whiskey.”
Carwyn grinned. “You’re very welcome. How’s life?”
She shrugged. “Busy. Classes. Friends. Lots going on.”
“Who’s the boyfriend?”
“Just a lad I met out with friends.”
“Is it serious? Going to take him home to meet…” He caught himself before he said ‘mum and dad.’ Carwyn cleared his throat and smiled at the cool eyebrow she raised in his direction. “Take him home to meet your aunt?”
“Sinead? Probably not. I’m not that serious about him.”
“So why waste your time?”
She just blinked at him, and for the first time since he’d seen her, Carwyn caught the vulnerability in her eyes. In that moment, he remembered the small girl at the mercy of a monster, and his heart softened. “None of my business, Brigid,” he said in a softer voice. “He seems like a nice enough boy.”
The hard shell fell over her face again. “He’s fine. He doesn’t interfere with school.”
He grinned. “Well, that’s good. So, you’re going to be in the Garda, are you?”
She shrugged. “Maybe Irish police. Maybe something international. Always wanted to travel.”