This Same Earth
Page 44
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He blinked, looking up at her with a shocked face before he roared in laughter.
“Oh,” she said with a snicker. “It’s you.”
“Hello to you, too.”
“Don’t sneak up on me, vampire.”
He was still laughing when he brushed away the lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes. “That was marvelous.”
“I try.”
“I’ll be expecting it next time, so you better watch out.”
A twinkle came to her eye. “Oh yeah? What are you going to do—”
She broke off when he reared up and jerked her neck to the side. His fangs were bared and he let them scrape lightly across the skin of her neck before he licked up to her ear.
“Just remember, never pin a vampire face-to-face.” He rolled them over so she was lying under him, and she looked up with hungry eyes. “Unless you want this to happen.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she choked out.
He bent his head down and brushed a kiss across her flushed lips.
“It’s been on my mind for a while now.”
He helped her up and they walked arm in arm back to the farmhouse. Giovanni was filling her in on what had transpired in Dublin when a blood-curdling scream rent the air.
Giovanni halted, a feeling of dread washing over him. He picked Beatrice up and rushed back to the house, setting her near the young guard as he sped toward the back garden. He felt the force of Deirdre’s amnis slam into him as she wailed in Carwyn’s arms. Giovanni almost fell to his knees, but he felt Beatrice come behind him and grab his hand. He pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair as he rocked her back and forth.
“He’s dead,” Beatrice whispered, holding him close. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Giovanni nodded. Nothing but the grief of losing half of yourself could tear a person in two the way that Deirdre Mac Cuille had been. Her screams were hardly that of a woman; they more closely resembled the death keen of the mythical banshee. She tore at her hair while Carwyn shouted, “Where, Deirdre? Where?” over and over again. She was unintelligible, gnashing her teeth and rocking back and forth as she dug her hands into the earth.
Finally, she shoved her father away, tore off her clothes, and stretched herself upon the ground. Giovanni felt the sudden jolt and sigh as the earth opened up and swallowed her whole.
Before dawn, letters were sent and calls made. Though Deirdre had not yet reappeared, some of their clan had already arrived, emerging from the valley confused and angry. Deirdre and Ioan’s children converged on their parent’s home as the scent of their father’s blood travelled through the earth from which he had drawn his power.
Giovanni took refuge from his grief in the small stone room under the mountain. He pulled Beatrice with him, and the two retreated from the overwhelming sorrow of Ioan and Deirdre’s family. Carwyn was surrounded by his children’s children, both comforting and being comforted by his kin.
He held Beatrice for the rest of the night, and she lay with him, quietly stroking his hair the way she knew he loved, old wounds overtaken by the ache of new loss. He fell into his day rest next to her and when he woke she remained, staring at him with her deep brown eyes.
“There are so many vampires here.”
He nodded. “Deirdre and Ioan sired or fostered many children over the years. They would take in anyone that needed a home unless they were dangerous. All their children had children, and so forth. Their clan numbers in the hundreds, probably.”
Giovanni knew it had only begun. Soon, the trickle of friends and allies would become a flood as Ioan and Deirdre’s people returned to the quiet mountain their parents had called home.
“Why did they all come? I mean, what do vampires do when…”
“When Deirdre returns and the family is gathered, Carwyn will say a funeral mass.”
“I can’t—” Beatrice choked and wiped at her eyes. “How will he be able to do that?”
Giovanni took a deep breath and hugged her closer. “It’s the last thing he can do for his son.”
He could feel her tears wet on her cheeks as she lay her head on his arm.
“Tell me about him.”
He pulled her closer. She had been handling herself extremely well, considering how recently and dramatically her world had changed. For the past week and a half, she had been surrounded by humans and vampires she didn’t know, and he had left her alone for much of the time, consumed by the need to search for his friend.
“Ioan was kind. Intelligent. Wise, tesoro. He had a kind of wisdom about life and family I could only hope to gain.” He noticed the lines of stress that creased her brow. “Beatrice, there will be many vampires here and not all of them will be Carwyn’s people. Some of the water vampires who run Dublin will be here, as well as others from around the country. They do not have the same attitude toward humans that we do, so make sure you stay close to me. It will be...somewhat overwhelming. It could be dangerous if tempers run high.”
“Since I don’t want to be a beverage during the vampire version of an Irish wake, I’ll keep that in mind.”
He tried to stifle a chuckle, but couldn’t.
“Sorry.” She closed her eyes in embarrassment. “Too crass?”
He shook his head and leaned over, brushing a soft kiss across her temple. “I was just thinking how Ioan would have laughed at that. Having married an Irishwoman, jokes about his adopted homeland were some of his favorites. No one loves a joke like a Welshman.”
“Oh,” she said with a snicker. “It’s you.”
“Hello to you, too.”
“Don’t sneak up on me, vampire.”
He was still laughing when he brushed away the lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes. “That was marvelous.”
“I try.”
“I’ll be expecting it next time, so you better watch out.”
A twinkle came to her eye. “Oh yeah? What are you going to do—”
She broke off when he reared up and jerked her neck to the side. His fangs were bared and he let them scrape lightly across the skin of her neck before he licked up to her ear.
“Just remember, never pin a vampire face-to-face.” He rolled them over so she was lying under him, and she looked up with hungry eyes. “Unless you want this to happen.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she choked out.
He bent his head down and brushed a kiss across her flushed lips.
“It’s been on my mind for a while now.”
He helped her up and they walked arm in arm back to the farmhouse. Giovanni was filling her in on what had transpired in Dublin when a blood-curdling scream rent the air.
Giovanni halted, a feeling of dread washing over him. He picked Beatrice up and rushed back to the house, setting her near the young guard as he sped toward the back garden. He felt the force of Deirdre’s amnis slam into him as she wailed in Carwyn’s arms. Giovanni almost fell to his knees, but he felt Beatrice come behind him and grab his hand. He pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair as he rocked her back and forth.
“He’s dead,” Beatrice whispered, holding him close. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Giovanni nodded. Nothing but the grief of losing half of yourself could tear a person in two the way that Deirdre Mac Cuille had been. Her screams were hardly that of a woman; they more closely resembled the death keen of the mythical banshee. She tore at her hair while Carwyn shouted, “Where, Deirdre? Where?” over and over again. She was unintelligible, gnashing her teeth and rocking back and forth as she dug her hands into the earth.
Finally, she shoved her father away, tore off her clothes, and stretched herself upon the ground. Giovanni felt the sudden jolt and sigh as the earth opened up and swallowed her whole.
Before dawn, letters were sent and calls made. Though Deirdre had not yet reappeared, some of their clan had already arrived, emerging from the valley confused and angry. Deirdre and Ioan’s children converged on their parent’s home as the scent of their father’s blood travelled through the earth from which he had drawn his power.
Giovanni took refuge from his grief in the small stone room under the mountain. He pulled Beatrice with him, and the two retreated from the overwhelming sorrow of Ioan and Deirdre’s family. Carwyn was surrounded by his children’s children, both comforting and being comforted by his kin.
He held Beatrice for the rest of the night, and she lay with him, quietly stroking his hair the way she knew he loved, old wounds overtaken by the ache of new loss. He fell into his day rest next to her and when he woke she remained, staring at him with her deep brown eyes.
“There are so many vampires here.”
He nodded. “Deirdre and Ioan sired or fostered many children over the years. They would take in anyone that needed a home unless they were dangerous. All their children had children, and so forth. Their clan numbers in the hundreds, probably.”
Giovanni knew it had only begun. Soon, the trickle of friends and allies would become a flood as Ioan and Deirdre’s people returned to the quiet mountain their parents had called home.
“Why did they all come? I mean, what do vampires do when…”
“When Deirdre returns and the family is gathered, Carwyn will say a funeral mass.”
“I can’t—” Beatrice choked and wiped at her eyes. “How will he be able to do that?”
Giovanni took a deep breath and hugged her closer. “It’s the last thing he can do for his son.”
He could feel her tears wet on her cheeks as she lay her head on his arm.
“Tell me about him.”
He pulled her closer. She had been handling herself extremely well, considering how recently and dramatically her world had changed. For the past week and a half, she had been surrounded by humans and vampires she didn’t know, and he had left her alone for much of the time, consumed by the need to search for his friend.
“Ioan was kind. Intelligent. Wise, tesoro. He had a kind of wisdom about life and family I could only hope to gain.” He noticed the lines of stress that creased her brow. “Beatrice, there will be many vampires here and not all of them will be Carwyn’s people. Some of the water vampires who run Dublin will be here, as well as others from around the country. They do not have the same attitude toward humans that we do, so make sure you stay close to me. It will be...somewhat overwhelming. It could be dangerous if tempers run high.”
“Since I don’t want to be a beverage during the vampire version of an Irish wake, I’ll keep that in mind.”
He tried to stifle a chuckle, but couldn’t.
“Sorry.” She closed her eyes in embarrassment. “Too crass?”
He shook his head and leaned over, brushing a soft kiss across her temple. “I was just thinking how Ioan would have laughed at that. Having married an Irishwoman, jokes about his adopted homeland were some of his favorites. No one loves a joke like a Welshman.”
