Building From Ashes Page 50
“No. You have wild hair and—and your smile is…”
“What?”
“Too big.”
He belly laughed. “Why do I love it when you insult me so?” He reached over and tugged at her ear, but she reached up, pinched his hand and shocked him. “Oh ho!” An evil glint came to his eye and he grabbed the squirt bottle that Anne had put on the dashboard, aiming it at her.
“You better not. Carwyn!” She tried to grab it while the car swerved. “That’s just for emergencies!” Soon, Carwyn was roaring with laughter and Brigid was slapping his arm, trying to block the spray of water he aimed at her. Madoc was barking and jumping with excitement.
Anne must have pulled her earplugs out. “Really? Can’t I leave the two of you to yourselves for a few minutes? Carwyn, don’t run us off the road.”
“He started it.”
“She shocked me.”
He saw Anne roll her eyes and return to her book. The dog settled down and Carwyn focused on driving. But, when he peeked at Brigid, a smile still lingered on her lips.
Northern Highlands, Scotland
September 2010
There was a light mist falling when they pulled up to the grey stone castle. It was L-shaped and tall, a relic of a far earlier time, and Brigid hoped that it was warmer inside than it looked from the outside. Though, she had to admit the pervasive mist felt cool and refreshing against her skin. Skin that constantly felt warm, as if she were running a permanent fever.
“Home, sweet home,” Carwyn said. “Well, at least for the next year or so.”
“I’ve never been to Scotland before.”
“Not even on a school trip?”
“No.”
Anne crawled out of the back seat a moment before Madoc burst out and shot across the grounds, yapping and howling his relief at finally being free of the cramped vehicle. “You’ll like it here,” Anne said. “Max and Cathy are wonderful fun.”
“What about…”
“Tavish?” Carwyn smiled. “Tavish is… Tavish.” He grabbed their bags from the trunk, holding all three suitcases in his massive hands and almost skipping up to the dark, wooden door. Anne folded Brigid’s arm in hers.
“Carwyn loves it here. He and Max are very like-minded.”
“Well…” Brigid smiled a little. “This should be interesting, then.”
The Welshman was already banging on the door and yelling. “Open the door, you ungrateful children! Didn’t you miss me?”
The door cracked open and a grey head peeked through. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Hello, son!” Carwyn laid a meaty hand on the shoulder of the vampire in front of him. He was tall and thin, but his years, however many they had been, had not treated him kindly. His shaggy grey hair fell into his face and his mouth was turned down in a permanent frown.
“I refuse to call you ‘Father’ when you look twenty years younger than me, Carwyn. But come in anyway.”
“Always a joy to see you again, Tavish.”
Tavish only grunted and stepped aside as Carwyn walked in the house.
“Highland hospitality,” Anne whispered as they walked up to the door. “Hello, Tavish, lovely to see you. This is Brigid.”
The vampire made more vague grunting sounds and waved them into a brightly lit living room just off the entryway before he picked up a book and disappeared down the hall.
Brigid looked around. It was everything she would have thought a Scottish castle would be, even down to the suit of armor standing in the corner of the room and the old shields hanging on the wall in a dignified line. A fire roared in a massive fireplace and her ears pricked up when she heard quick footsteps approaching.
This had to be Max. A handsome man with light brown hair and brilliant green eyes, he greeted them with a wide smile as he embraced Carwyn.
“Father! So happy you’re here. You made good time. You just beat Cathy. She’ll be here in a few.”
“Coming from Edinburgh?”
“Of course.” He turned and held a hand out to Brigid. “Maxwell Mackenzie at your service. You must be Brigid. I assume you met my rude brother.”
“Brother?” Brigid looked over her shoulder, but Tavish was nowhere to be found. “You mean…” She frowned, then cocked her head. “You’re brothers?”
They did look alike. If she thought about it, the two almost looked identical, only Tavish was an older, grumpier, version of the man in front of her.
“Yes. Twins, in fact. I just got the better end of things in the eternal youth department.” He clapped his hands together and ushered them toward the fire, greeting Anne with a kiss on the cheek and taking everyone’s coats. “Can I get you anything to drink? Beer? Wine? O-negative?” He winked at Brigid.
Anne asked for wine, and Carwyn asked for beer. Brigid wanted to curl into a ball and hide. She’d drunk several cups of blood when she woke in Glasgow that night, but she was hungry again. “Um… could I get some blood, please?”
“Of course! We have fresh animal or preserved human.”
She looked to Anne, who shrugged and said, “They’ll both fill you up the same.”
Brigid cringed under Max’s friendly, yet expectant, stare. “Human, please.” It was strange to think about. It was even stranger to say. She felt like a freak. Like a parasite, like a— “On second thought, could I just have the animal? Is it… what is it?”