16. Cormac
Cormac
T he unease in Rory’s beautiful green eyes told me one thing: she was unhappy with this latest development. Her sigh was heavy as her shoulders dropped. “I should have expected it. I’m the one who disappeared into a cave with no way of contacting them. At least you didn’t leave me there.” Her eyes softened as she looked up at me.
“I would never have left you,” I replied. I reached out to touch her arm but pulled back with a sudden rush of uncertainty. “There was a reason we were both there at that moment.”
“Fate,” she whispered, almost to herself. “Fate wanted us to find the lineage at the same time.”
I turned my body toward her. “Why do you think the pendulum points here whenever you try to find the Cure?”
Rory shook her head, her frustration palpable. “I don’t know. It feels like even my magic is pushing for us to work together.” Her lips curled so slightly I second-guessed if she were smiling.
My phone buzzed, and I read the text that appeared. “Isla says she will start working on it shortly,” I said, picking up the blueprints and putting them back on the shelf. As I did, I looked at the O’Cillian crest on the front. Why had Rory looked at it as though she couldn’t see it? Did the spell run that deep?
“Good,” she murmured.
“How long until this houseguest arrives?” I leaned against the desk in front of her, glancing around my father’s office, untouched by time. Had he been here recently? A knot formed in my stomach. Rory had still not said she would work with me to find the Cure, only that it appeared I was required. Where did this leave us?
She clenched her jaw. “My cousin, Lyra. Not long, probably only a few minutes. My aunt has been magically tracking my location all day, just waiting to spring her on me.”
My voice softened. “At least you know your cousins. I never knew mine.” I thought back to my extended family, long since dead. I resisted the urge to turn away from her and toy with the pens on the desk.
Rory sat back in the chair. “Why not?”
“My grandfather sent us to England when people noticed my parents weren’t aging.”
“To England?” Her eyes widened in surprise.
I laughed, a hint of sorrow creeping into the sound. “My grandfather thought it best to send us away to serve as representatives of our clan to the royal family.” A small, nostalgic smile played across my lips.
She leaned forward. My heart raced to think she could desire to know about my family and not just the Cure. “You lived among royalty?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied with a touch of humility. “I still hold a title, truth be told, since I never actually died. At least, I think that is how that goes.”
Rory giggled, her laughter a balm to the tension between us. “I had no idea I was in the company of royalty.” She tilted her chin. “How long were you there?”
“Years,” I said with a smile, my heart soothed by talking about them—and to her. “My father was the one initially sent to represent our clan. He was granted the first title. He introduced me to the royal family about ten years later, and I began taking over his duties.”
“But if you were both there...” Rory trailed off, her eyes wide. I knew where her thought was going.
“Several years later, I assumed his role,” I continued with a sly smile. “My father suddenly fell ill—a mysterious illness. He ‘died’ shortly after that. In truth, he returned to Ireland and remained hidden for a time, but such was the life of a creature of the night.”
“Really?” Rory crinkled her forehead, clearly intrigued. “And then what happened?”
“I introduced my younger brother,” I said with a nonchalant shrug, a smile on my lips.
She smiled back. “And let me guess—several years later, you succumbed to a mysterious illness as well.”
“You are catching on fast,” I said, a hint of sarcasm in my soft voice as I relished the ease with which I could tell her about my family. Even when I explained our circumstances to another immortal, there were always questions about why we had stayed out of vampire politics and how we had become so strong. And never had I told any of them that my brothers and I were dhampirs, that secret being locked away.
Among the immortals, many believed my father was turned after his sons were born, and he was responsible for turning the four of us. Most even thought my mother was a vampire as well, refusing to believe a human would stay mated for so long.
“How many brothers do you have?” Rory asked, tipping her head and raising her hand to her chin, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“There are four of us,” I replied, a smile playing on my lips, but inside, my heart pounded with dread. We were once inseparable, but now I didn’t even know where they were, dead or alive, save Aiden.
Rory’s brow furrowed. “Aren’t there four O’Cillians as well?”
My throat tightened. I needed to be more careful—stay close to the truth but not too close—or she would connect my stories. Yet as I looked into her gaze, I wanted her to know who I was: the mixture of good and evil. My smile shifted as it became tinged with sadness. “Yes, there are.”
“Have you ever met them?” Rory asked, her gaze sharp and probing.
I nodded. “Yes, a few times,” I said, clenching my jaw. “Do you think that is why I am needed to help find the Cure?”
“I don’t know,” she said on a breath. Her gaze searched mine as silence engulfed us.
What was she thinking? It felt like she was looking into my soul, and I wanted her to. I had no idea how I would end this farce, but for now, it seemed best. As soon as she learned the vampire she sought was my brother, all hell would break loose, and I needed to protect her from that—and him.
I cleared my throat, a nervousness settling on me. “I take it you don’t want your cousin staying near your room?”
Rory shook her head, a hint of frustration in her expression, as she shifted in her seat. “We don’t always get along. It’s as though she’s decided the coven is hers for the taking, and I can’t understand why.”
There were so many things I could tell Rory—so many truths about her family and history that she likely longed to hear. But not now. “Why would she take over the coven?” I asked, my voice gentle.
Rory sat forward and wrung her hands together. “I don’t see how she could. But if I were to die—”
“Why would you die?” I interrupted, concern lacing my voice.
“If I ever have children...” She gazed into the distance. She looked down, her voice softening. “Could vampire blood save a mother dying in childbirth?”
I took a deep breath, understanding the depth of her question. “Not usually,” I said, my tone careful. “Vampire blood restores you to the state you were in, but dying in childbirth is... natural.”
“But so is spraining an ankle,” she snapped, pointing at her healing leg.
“I know,” I replied, biting the inside of my cheek. “It’s difficult to understand. The pregnancy already compromised the mother’s condition. Plus, if the baby is human and the umbilical cord is still attached...”
Her face twisted. “Are you implying a newborn would become a vampire?”
I raised my eyebrows but otherwise remained steadfast.
“That’s awful.”
I nodded. “At that point, the baby is lost anyway. I’ve never seen a mother choose to live after that.”
A dreadful silence hung between us, our conversation exposing the fragility of human life. My eyes locked on hers as I softened my expression. “You haven’t eaten all day? Are you hungry?” I asked, gesturing to the door.
Rory sighed and gave me a slight nod. When she stood, she hesitated as she placed weight on her ankle. She looked at me with a smile. “I’ll unwrap it when we get to the kitchen.”
My stomach twisted with bittersweet concern as I heard Rory’s even footsteps, and we walked in silence between the rooms. Would my blood be any different for the High Priestess Heir? “So what would you like to eat? I have sandwiches and some salad. I was thinking we could have steak for dinner.”
A faint laugh escaped Rory. “Salad sounds good to me. I usually eat vegetarian.”
“Really?” I replied with a raised eyebrow, a touch of humor in my voice. “How amusing. I usually drink carnivorously.” Her resulting laughter touched a place in my chest that brought a smile to my face.
She sat on a stool at the kitchen island, unwrapping her ankle as I prepared the salad. I added a few pieces of tofu for good measure and set it in front of her.
“How’s that?” I asked, placing a bowl of strawberries and blueberries beside it.
“Perfect,” she said, giving me a smile that made my heart skip a beat. There was something so simple, so endearing about her appreciation that it made me wonder—could I really be part of the family that her coven vilified so much? But according to her, they were monstrous, evil.
With little warning, I felt a presence approaching. I shot to full height, my senses on high alert. “Someone’s coming,” I said, my voice tense. “My guess is it’s your cousin.”
“Guess we need to get this over with. At least we got a warning she was coming.” Rory slid off the stool, her food untouched, an uncomfortable smile reaching her lips.
I disappeared from the kitchen, reaching the foyer in an instant as the planking on the front porch creaked. I opened the door to the witch crossing the porch. Her facial features resembled Aurora’s, but her brown hair hung stick straight before coming to a blunt end at her shoulders.
“You must be Lyra,” I said, my tone carefully neutral.
“Yes, I am. Now, where is my cousin?” Lyra’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air with an edge that put me on guard.
I heard Rory sigh as she came up behind me to greet her cousin.
Lyra’s gaze raked over Rory as she approached, her eyebrow arching in disdain. “Well, you don’t look too injured.”
Rory took in a slow breath. “I was, but Mac gave me some blood to heal me.”
“You really are trying to become a vampire, aren’t you?” Lyra said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
I shook my head, forcing my expression to remain calm. “She was injured and needed assistance, so I provided it.”
“Of course you did,” Lyra said with a roll of her eyes.
I opened the door farther and stepped back. “Well, since you’ll be here for a few days, let me show you to your room.”
Lyra shifted the duffel bag on her shoulder and grimaced. I could tell she intended for me to offer to carry it, but I couldn’t bring my old-world manners to the forefront for her. She followed me up the stairs, her critical gaze sweeping over my home. Rory trailed her. Instead of heading to the north wing, we circled the balcony to a guest room in the south wing of the house.
I opened the door and gestured inside. “Here you are.” The room was about half the size of Rory’s, with a single bed draped in a modest canopy and no fireplace. The window overlooked the front of the house, offering a view of the driveway fountain.
“A bathroom connects this room to the next one,” I explained, my tone polite but distant.
Lyra’s eyes narrowed as she took in the modest accommodations. “This looks like a maid’s room.”
I shrugged, unfazed by her criticism. “It might have been.” I saw Rory struggle to suppress a laugh as Lyra dismissed the room with a wave.
“Whatever,” Lyra muttered. “Aurora, I need to see the lineage as soon as possible.”
Darkness clouded Rory’s eyes. “Why do you think you can come here and start making demands?”
Lyra leaned against the dresser and crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you believe my mother trusts you right now? She sent me because she knows I have the coven’s best interests at heart. Do you honestly think the coven will follow you after you disappeared, only to be found gallivanting with a vampire, staying at his house, and drinking his blood?”
Rory’s eyes flashed with defiance. “Yes, I do. Because I’m doing what needs to be done.”
I stepped toward Rory and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t we go downstairs and leave Lyra to get settled? She can join us in the parlor when she is ready.”
Rory looked at my hand on her shoulder, frozen. It seemed like such a natural gesture, but I dropped it to my side.
Her gaze met mine, her eyes betraying the confusion she felt. “Let’s go,” she mumbled. She turned on her heel and stalked from the room.
We descended the stairs together. I cleared my throat to break the silence. “Returning to the Cure...” I started.
“What about it?” she asked.
“I wonder if the O’Cillian family home might hold any clues? After all, the Cure is a descendant of Rauri O’Cillian.”
She clenched her jaw as we returned to the parlor. Rory took her previous seat on the sofa, and I sat in the leather chair next to it. I glanced at the maps on the coffee table, noting I would need to put them away soon.
Rory leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “It isn’t like we can just waltz in there.”
“What if I told you I could get us into the O’Cillian manor?” I asked, my gaze darting around the room. I didn’t want her to figure out my relationship, but it was the next logical step.
“You can what?” Rory asked, her eyes popping open.
I nodded, focusing on the arm of the chair. “I know someone who could gain us entry to Dún Na Farraige.”
Rory chuckled, disbelief coloring her tone. “Dún Na Farraige?”
I nodded, looking up at her. “The O’Cillian family manor in Ireland.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Do you think we’d find something there?”
“Find something where?” Lyra asked, her voice laced with skepticism as she entered the room, placing her hands on her hips.
I gestured toward a seat opposite from me for her to join us. “I was just discussing with Rory the possibility of going to Ireland to see if we can uncover anything at the O’Cillian family home.”
Lyra sat in the pink upholstered chair that matched the sofa. She sat back and tilted her head. “The O’Cillians? You want us to go there?” Lyra’s tone was sharp, her words cutting like a blade, but it was nothing I hadn’t dealt with before.
“I understand what your coven believes about them, but I also know they aren’t the monsters they’ve been made out to be.”
“And how would you know this?” Lyra’s words were like daggers, each one aimed to wound.
“I know because I’ve dealt with them,” I replied, my voice steady.
Rory pressed her lips together. “What do you think about them?”
“The story of Kieran and Aine O’Cillian is a love story. That the O’Cillians were a family for so long is revered in the vampire community.” I sat back in the chair, the ease with which I answered questions for Rory about my family startling me.
“Because monsters can love?” Lyra scoffed, disbelief in her voice.
Rory clenched her jaw. “Lyra, you can choose to listen or not, but if you decide not to, you don’t have to stay.”
Lyra narrowed her eyes and shot a look at her cousin, but she didn’t speak, which I took as a sign to continue.
“I’m sure you’re aware of the legend of the Dearg Dur?” I asked.
Lyra nodded. “Of course we are. She’s the woman who turned into a vampire to appease her husband, who wanted someone beautiful.”
I was about to correct her when Rory spoke up. “It had nothing to do with vanity, Lyra. The Dearg Dur cheated death solely for revenge. She was in a horrible marriage, and her true love never came to save her. She chose to die rather than stay with her husband. But she came back and killed both him and her father. She’s terrorized Waterford ever since.”
I smiled at Rory. “Correct. Most don’t know that the Dearg Dur turned Kieran O’Cillian.”
“What?” Rory’s eyes widened in shock. “Why would she do that? I didn’t know she had ever turned anyone.”
I shook my head, the story weighing on my heart. “I don’t know how many vampires she’s made, but Kieran was the first.”
“Still, why?” Rory asked, her voice full of confusion.
“It recently came to light,” I said, “that Kieran’s older brother was her husband. He knew what his brother was doing to her and did nothing to stop it. After she killed her husband, she felt it was only right that Kieran should suffer the same fate as her. The problem was that Kieran was already married and deeply in love with his wife. It was his wife’s blood that sealed his fate as a vampire when he drank it after dying with the Dearg Dur’s blood in his system.”
Lyra interjected. “Everyone knows that Aine O’Cillian is also a vampire.”
I shook my head again. “Vampire women cannot get pregnant, so even if you believe she is a vampire now, she wasn’t always. And somehow Kieran protected her through four supernatural pregnancies.”
Rory furrowed her brow. I cringed, hoping she did not connect the stories. “If she wasn’t a vampire when the children were born, but Kieran was, they would be like—”
“I have no wish to discuss myself, Rory,” I interrupted, my voice firm. “I believe our next step is Ireland.”
“Why Ireland?” snapped Lyra.
“The lineage stolen from your coven showed a Cure in the family of the O’Cillian vampires descended from the same patriarchal line as Kieran O’Cillian. Since Rory hasn’t been able to locate the Cure by dowsing, I think the next step is to go to where this all started.”
Lyra narrowed her eyes. “And why should we trust you?”
I sat forward, my gaze boring into hers. “The vampire you seek, the one stronger than the hunters, is the same one that tore my family apart, so I’d like to exact some of my own revenge. If that means I have to help a coven of witches to do so, then I guess I’ll just have to do that.” I turned to Rory. “What do you think? Ireland?”
Rory’s lips parted to answer but she was cut off by her cousin. “No way. She isn’t allowed out of my sight,” barked Lyra, bolting upright in her chair. “Her High Priestess Regent commands it.”
I glanced at Rory as she gave me a slight nod. “Then you will join us. It is decided. I will make the necessary arrangements.”
“I’ll call Aunt Amara about transferring money for our flights,” said Rory.
I tried to catch her gaze but failed. Why was she avoiding my eyes? “Ridiculous,” I said, my words measured as I stood. “You are my guests, and I do not need your money. Would you excuse me?”
Rory glanced between Lyra and me. “I think I’ll go up to my room,” she said.
I focused on Lyra, a warning in my tone. “It’s best to stay in this room or the one upstairs until we leave.”
“And how do you intend to enforce that?” Lyra asked, her words carrying a challenge.
“I can hear every sound around this house, down to the blue jay singing in the tree by the road and the fish jumping in the river,” I mused.
“Fine,” Lyra replied, her tone dismissive. “I’ll either be here or in my room—well away from the two of you.”