Murphy’s eyes narrowed. “How can I help you, Father?”

“I want to know if you’ve made any headway with the local connection. Brigid seemed very certain there was a vampire other than Lorenzo involved in Ioan’s death.”

“I know her theories, though I’m not sure what she’s basing them on. Our own investigation is ongoing.”

“The party she went to that Lorenzo hosted. She went with a friend of hers, didn’t she?”

“Yes, not her normal scene, but her friend was—is—seeing a vampire socially.”

His instincts triggered. “Who?”

Murphy shook his head. “Something of a local. He’s Scandinavian. Not very old. And not very smart. Hardly someone Lorenzo would depend on. We’ve looked into him, but we don’t think he’s worth pursuing.”

“What’s his name?”

The water vampire narrowed his eyes. “We’ve looked into him. Not a likely suspect.”

Carwyn shifted in his seat. He’d only ask one more time before things became… interesting. “His name, Murphy.”

The two vampires measured each other. Murphy had people. People surrounding him who were loyal. He was strong and ambitious. But his few hundred years were nothing compared to Carwyn’s strength. Or his vast network of family connections. If Carwyn wanted to rule Ireland, it wouldn’t be much of a fight. He could take Murphy out with one battle and a few well-timed telephone calls. He may not even need the battle.

And Patrick Murphy knew it.

“His name is Axel Anderson,” he finally said. “False, I’m sure, but that’s what he goes by. No idea who his sire is. He’s lived in Dublin for around twenty years. Does a little shipping. Has traded in some recreational drugs like Ecstasy and marijuana, but I put a stop to that after I found out he was the one supplying Brigid in college. She doesn’t know that, by the way. I’d like your discretion. The vampire is dating one of the few friends she has in town, and I’d hate to see her lose that.”

That information was going to piss Brigid off royally when he told her, which he had every intention of doing. “We’ll see,” he said as he rose. The other vampire stepped out from behind the desk. Carwyn said, “I want to be kept informed. Send messages by way of Deirdre if I’m out of town. Things are a bit unpredictable for me right now, but I’ll be around more.”

Murphy did not look pleased. “The Father has left his flock? I thought you liked your quiet mountains, Carwyn.”

He shrugged, and a slight smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “I like all sorts of things. And I protect what’s important to me.” He stepped a bit closer. “Don’t make the mistake of forgetting that.”

Murphy’s face was blank. “I don’t forget much.”

“Good.” Carwyn thought for a moment, weighing the intrinsic value of information against the possible threat against innocent mortals and immortals under Murphy’s aegis and territory. The innocents won. “There’s another drug you should be aware of. Something that may have just resurfaced. I’m still gathering information, but it’s targeted at immortals.”

Murphy said, “A drug for vampires? Careful, Father, things like that are what urban legends are made of.”

He snorted. “Like I said, I’m still getting information. I’m working with Giovanni Vecchio and his wife on the research. I’m sure you know their reputations.”

The mention of the famed fire vampire and scholar halted the amusement on Murphy’s face. “Of course.”

“I’ll keep you updated, particularly since it seems to be related to Ioan’s death. In the meantime, if you see any immortals who are acting out of character… seem to have increased strength or aren’t feeding as much, let me know.”

Murphy gave a slow nod. “You can be sure of it.”

Carwyn walked toward the door and turned. “So Brigid still wants to work for you?”

“January. She’ll be coming back in the new year.”

He cocked an eyebrow at Murphy. “You’re a lucky…” boy. “…employer, Murphy. To have her on your team.”

“I know it.”

Carwyn smirked before he strode out the door. “Just don’t forget it.”

Chapter Eighteen

Scotland

June 2011

Brigid held her hand up, a single flame hovering over one finger, as she sang in the misty night. Madoc watched with disapproving brown eyes.

“Happy death day to me, happy death day to me, happy death day, dear Brigid… happy death day to me.” She stared at the single flame for another minute before blowing it out and turning to the wolfhound. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s an odd kind of thing to celebrate.” She stood and brushed the grass from her leggings. Brigid had been at a bit of a loss for what to do to mark the one-year anniversary of her new life. A life, she had to admit, she grew to like more and more as her control grew. Cathy and Max were in Edinburgh. Anne was still out of the country. Tavish was the only one who acknowledged the date at all.

“Hasn’t it been about a year now?”

“Yes.”

“Killed anyone? Max isn’t here; you can tell me.”

“Nope. Though that annoying man that lurks around the pub in town has been tempting.”

“Can’t blame you for that. Still, more trouble than it’s worth. Probably.”