Building From Ashes
Page 42

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned…”
But he also knew that he had knelt next to Ioan’s killer on the wet deck of a freighter in the English Channel, offered absolution to a sinner, then walked away, knowing he would be killed.
Who had he become? The conflict between his earthly and heavenly obligations had never been so stark.
He brushed the thought aside and shuffled through the correspondence that had built up on Ioan’s desk. He’d told Deirdre that he’d sort through it for her, even though he dreaded the task. But life moved on. A passage from Ecclesiastes came to him.
Generations come and generations go, but the Earth remains forever.
He remained. Like the earth that surrounded him in Ioan’s library, he remained solid and unchangeable. And life moved on.
The two vampires directly responsible for his son’s death were dead. Lorenzo was not. Not yet, anyway. But his close friends, Beatrice and Giovanni, were safe in South America, finding peace and love even in the midst of pain. His clan was shoring up their defenses with an enemy still on the loose. His son, Gus, received word from his twin sister, Carla. Carwyn’s child, Luc, had sent a letter from the Netherlands, and Guy had called from his home in Northern France. Tavish and Max had both checked in from Scotland. Gemma was safe in London, secure under the careful guard of her powerful fiancé. She was Carwyn’s oldest child now and had already sent men to guard her youngest brother, Daniel, who lived in the Lakes region in England.
Generations came and went. His children rose in power and spread their influence. After a thousand years on earth, Father Carwyn ap Bryn felt the stirring of change in his blood, and the earth surrounding him hummed in awareness.
“Carwyn?” Deirdre called down the hallway. He turned just as she peeked her head into the library. “Are you hungry?”
“No, thank you.”
“Is there anything I can help with?”
He saw the hollow grief in her eyes. She had lost half of herself when Ioan was killed. “No. Unless you want something to do.”
She nodded, so he pulled a chair next to him and she sat down. He handed her a stack of letters to sort.
Mail from family went in one stack. Letters from medical journals and scientific societies in another. There was correspondence from immortals all over the globe whom Ioan had known professionally and personally. Letters from numerous humans he’d had contact with or helped. Financial statements. Bills. Notices. It was overwhelming.
“This is just from the last four months?”
She nodded. “Well, four and a half, I suppose.”
Carwyn shook his head and put another letter in the “family” pile. It was from one of Ioan’s children who was considering a move to the United States and needed an introduction. Ioan would have contacted one of his own associates in New York. Or perhaps Seattle or Chicago and consulted with them. Then letters between the two would need to be exchanged. Details of what the business implications of the move were. Why the vampire wanted to relocate. What allegiance or support they could offer. Though the immortal world had no central government, it operated on a feudal system of power, money, allegiance, and personal connections. All things that Ioan, as the oldest of his children, had dealt with in his stead for nine hundred years.
He muttered, “This is ridiculous.”
Deirdre looked up with a frown. “What is?”
Carwyn threw up his hands. “All this. He handled all this because I couldn’t be bothered with most of it, Deirdre. I had responsibilities and I ignored them.”
“You are dedicated to the church. And these were our responsibilities. Our children, not yours.”
“They are part of my clan and my connections are the most extensive, so it’s something I should have shared. It should never have fallen solely—”
She grabbed his hand. “It didn’t. It was shared between all of us. Ioan was just the oldest, so he did the most. And we all understood that you had a calling. You still do. You owe us nothing, Father.”
He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “I think it may be time for a change.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
She was silent as she looked at him, then she turned back to the stack of letters and continued sorting. “He was happy to help. He was always—” Her voice broke, and Carwyn reached across to embrace her.
“Shh.” Her shoulders were stiff and he knew she was fighting back tears. Deirdre had always been strong. She was the warrior, never the one to show weakness. “Grieve, daughter. You have the right.”
“There are too many depending on me,” she whispered. “And you cannot stay here forever. Your church—”
“I’ve already contacted the bishop. He’s sent another priest for the time being. I told him that my family needed me. They know not to argue.”
“Carwyn—”
“I am here. For as long as I am needed.” He still hadn’t made it to Dublin, though his thoughts had turned to Brigid Connor often in the past four months. He wanted to see her. Needed to comfort the girl. Deirdre and Sinead had been, but he’d been so occupied with finding Ioan’s murderers, then taking revenge, then sorting through the shattered branches of his family…
He needed to see her.
Deirdre lifted her face, stained with bloody tears. “I need to know that this monster cannot hurt others. I know you will stay here as long as you need, but if Giovanni and Beatrice ask for help finding Lorenzo or any others who took part in this, you must go. I am the mate of Ioan ap Carwyn. I am the leader of this clan. I will guard my people. I do not know to what purpose all this has happened, but there must be some greater good. I will cling to that until I see him again.”