The Scarlet Deep
Page 44

“I’m not going to explain myself to you lot.”
Carwyn craned his neck around to shoot a pointed look at Anne’s retreating figure. “Maybe you should. Just to practice.”
“Daniel is very young and has a limited perspective on something that happened thirty years ago,” Murphy said.
“Just a human?” Brigid asked.
“I do not view humans as viable long-term romantic partners,” Murphy said. “I never have.”
Brigid frowned. “That’s true. You didn’t proposition me until after I’d turned. I’d forgotten that.”
Murphy glanced at Carwyn uneasily, Gemma’s warning about not breaking antiques in the back of his mind.
“Don’t mind me,” Carwyn said with a grin, throwing his arm around Brigid’s shoulders. “I won.”
Brigid elbowed him. “Stop.”
“It’s true though. Murphy’s still chasing his woman.” Carwyn looked over his shoulder again. “Not very successfully.”
Murphy narrowed his eyes. Anne was talking with a very tall Swede who looked like an underwear model. Really, the Scandinavians needed to stop turning humans solely for their looks. It was very bad policy. The man’s hair was almost to his waist. Ridiculous. How could that not be a detriment in a fight?
“As amusing as all of you are,” Gemma said, “I need to go make sure that Jetta’s people are settled and find out who will be attending the meeting tomorrow night. Excuse me.”
“Gemma, can you introduce me to…” Brigid pulled out a piece of paper. “Gunnar Jarlson? He’s their security chief, and Roger wanted me to grab him when he got here.”
“Of course.”
Murphy watched the women walk toward the Scandinavian vampires, Carwyn at his side. Then Gemma was introducing Brigid to the tall blond talking to Anne.
“His name is Gunnar?” Murphy asked.
Carwyn nodded. “Security chief. Quite good from what Terry’s man says. Been working with Jetta for thirty or forty years. They might be related.”
“They all look related.”
“Ha!” Carwyn shook his head. “They’re an impressive sight, for sure. Tall, blond, and immortal.”
“Viking vampire assassins,” Murphy said, barely stifling a sneer. “Sounds like the subject of a bad romance novel.”
“I disagree,” Carwyn said. “That sounds like a rather excellent romance novel. You realize that when they raided Ireland many of the women ran after them, don’t you? I think it’s something about the hair.”
“Shut up, Carwyn.”
“I am the one with the adoring mate. Just pointing that out.”
“Adoring?” Murphy glanced at his fierce young enforcer. “Oh yes, the fawning must be quite tiresome. I don’t know how you put up with it.”
“It’s difficult, but I manage.”
THE meeting the following night was as tedious as Murphy had expected, though he might have simply been in a foul mood because Anne had locked him out of her room. He’d never been able to catch up with her at the party, and by the time dawn rolled around, she was firmly ensconced in her suite, while Murphy was forced to his own very cold—if admittedly comfortable—bed.
Evening started with a knock on his door from one of Brigid’s men, who needed to confirm his itinerary, then a quick drink from the refrigerated store of cow’s blood—still vile—and a shower and change of suit.
He needed to swim. Murphy hadn’t touched the water in days, and the pool Terry had was salt. He needed freshwater. Needed a good dousing in the river or a lake nearby. Perhaps it would take the edge off when he spent night after night wearing his civilized face without the relief of beating anyone up.
“Boss?”
He heard Brigid calling from the entryway. She was the only one with the code to his room.
“I’m in the bedroom, Brigid. Be out in a moment.”
“Roger confirmed your itinerary. Since there are no changes, the same security team will be with you as there was last night. Anne’s people are the same too.”
He paused. “Did she confirm that she was going to the meeting?”
“Of course.”
Excellent. He’d be able to corner her in the car.
“She did have another meeting with Jetta earlier though. So she’ll be meeting you and me there. Carter and Lands will be going with her. Roger is also sending two of his men.”
He curled his lip. “Fine.”
“Boss?”
“Yes, Brigid.”
“About Anne…”
Murphy stepped out of the bedroom, still adjusting his tie. “Yes?”
Brigid took a deep breath. “Is there something wrong with her?”
“What do you think?”
“I think I remember the look I’ve seen on her lately.”
“What look?”
“The hungry one. The one that says she’s thinking about her next fix.”
This was one of the reasons he put up with Carwyn in his city. Brigid’s skills of observation were uncanny.
“I’ve thought the same,” he said. “I’m watching her. Apparently, this is something her sister was aware of. Her sire too.”
“She’s having issues with bloodlust?”
“I think so.”
Brigid looked flummoxed.
“But why? I know she doesn’t like animal blood, but I’m much younger than she is, and I’ve been able to—”