The Dracove (The Prophecy series)

by N. L. Gervasio

  “Come on.” Grant tugged her hand.

  She cautiously followed him.

  Cearbhall gazed at her. Sunlight broke through the stained glass and basked upon her face.

  “My word, Grantlund. She looks like—”

  “I know.”

  “But she—”

  “I know that too.”

  “Know what,” she asked Grant. “Who do I look like?”

  “Later.” He clutched Cearbhall’s hand. They pulled each other into a brotherly embrace and patted one another on the back.

  “It’s good to see ye again, brother,” Cearbhall said and pulled back.

  The grin forming on Grant’s lips stretched from ear to ear. He nodded at his brother. Kylie wondered what they were talking about and if she was the subject matter.

  “Let’s go in the parlor,” Cearbhall said. “Ye can tell me what you’ve been up to for the last four hundred years, besides meetin’ this lovely lass.” He turned to her and bowed again. “Cearbhall Logan of the clan Logan at your service, my lady.” He took her hand and kissed it. “‘Tis an honor to meet the woman who has captured my brother’s heart.”

  Cearbhall led her into the parlor. She looked back to see Grant following closely behind. Grant sat on the antique sofa next to Kylie and nodded to Cearbhall, who sat across from them in a large wing chair. Everything in the room was ancient, including the two men in her company.

  “So tell me, Grantlund, why’re ye here?” Cearbhall stared at Kylie.

  She shifted in her seat and took Grant’s hand. He hadn’t stopped staring at her since he came downstairs.

  “I know this isn’t a social call,” he prompted.

  “We’ve somethin’ to ask o’ ye,” Grant said.

  “What, ye can’t transform her by yourself?” he said with a grin. “I’d be happy to—”

  “No. It’s not that, exactly.”

  “Then what is it, exactly?”

  Grant lowered his head.

  “Just say it,” she said.

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Yes it is.”

  Grant glanced at Cearbhall. He watched them, studying the exchange with curiosity.

  “Well, Kylie, why don’t ye tell me? Grantlund has always had trouble with words. He’s more of a man of action.”

  She looked at him, into his golden eyes. “What, me? I don’t know. There are things Grant needs to tell you about that I’m not too clear on just yet.”

  “Why don’t ye start it for him?”

  She looked at Grant again to see if he was okay with her starting their tale. He nodded for her to go ahead. “I’m not sure where to begin . . . .”

  “I thought ye two wanted to ask me somethin’. Sounds like you’re about to tell me a long, boring story.”

  That shut Kylie up.

  Grant touched her arm. “He’s kidding.”

  “Okay, well, we don’t know if you know what’s happening.”

  He nodded once and held his hand out, palm up, urging her to continue.

  She told him how they met about a week ago, about meeting Cianán, and how she came to be in Ireland. She considered telling him what happened the night before, sans the sex, of course, but decided it would take too long to go over everything, so she just stopped talking. Grant looked at her with curiosity, his brow creasing, after she hadn’t said anything for a minute.

  Grant said they didn’t have much time. Why speak unnecessary words?

  He placed his hand on her thigh. “Kylie?”

  She jumped. Her eyes quickly shifted from him to Cearbhall. She drew in a deep breath. “In a nutshell, Cianán wants to use me in a blood sacrifice so he can become some sort of god.”

  Grant and Cearbhall stared at her. Kylie rather enjoyed surprising two vampyres.

  When Cearbhall looked to Grant, he nodded in agreement to what Kylie said.

  Cearbhall leaned forward in his chair, the shocked expression still upon his face. “You’re the one he thinks is his Chosen One, the one he’s been searchin’ for all these bloody years?”

  She turned to Grant.

  “I’m pretty sure she is,” Grant replied. “She bears the mark. He tracked her down, but hadn’t killed her. Y’know Cianán just as well, if not better than I do.”

  “That’d explain the likeness—”

  “To Siobhán?” They jumped when she spoke, and stared at her. “Come on, you didn’t think I’d figure that out?”

  “Well, I-I—”

  “I did dream about the whole thing, you know.”

  He shook his head. “I just . . . I didn’t want ye to think . . . .”

  She took his hand in hers, brushed his hair back with the other, and softly touched his left cheek. “Grant, I know you loved her. I know you love me. It isn’t because I look like her or you think she and I might share the same soul, but because you actually love me.”

  Cearbhall watched and listened. “How d’ye explain how the two of you can communicate telepathically? She’s not your fledgling, though I smell your scent on her. I know ye have the ability of the mind Grantlund, but you’ve never been able to use it with a mortal other than to simply read their minds.”

  “How can ye tell?”

  “Grantlund, we’e brethren. Is it because she has the ability to do such things as you do?”

  “Aye, that’s part of it. I think she’s the one I’ve been searching for all these years too.” Grant looked at Kylie and smiled. “I think she can only communicate telepathically with me, but she hasn’t tried reading others’ thoughts yet. Though I’ve no doubt in her abilities.”

  Cearbhall nodded. “Does Cianán know of this ability?”

  Kylie shook her head.

  “Good, we’ve an advantage then.”

  Grant arched a brow. “We?”

  “Aye, do ye think I’m goin’ to sit back an’ let this happen? Cianán could put us all in danger if he gets what he wants. I can’t believe he’s still tryin’ after all these years. One would think he’d have given up by now.”

  “Is that why you left? Because of this?”

  “That’s part of it, though he doesn’t know that,” Cearbhall replied. “I’ve always liked ye, Grantlund. I’m glad ye came to your senses an’ left as well, but ye didn’t have to leave the bloody island.” He looked at Kylie and smiled. He leaned forward again. “He didn’t even write, y’know. Bastard.”

  The two of them laughed. Kylie sat, not joining in their facetiousness. She noticed the others watching her from afar. They’re stares held evilness behind them, a burning glare . . . .

  “Are they hungry, or whatever it is you call it?”

  The smile instantly left Grant’s face, and he looked over to Cearbhall. Kylie realized she’d spoken out of turn. Cearbhall was old, he’d lived in a time when women did what they were told, were seen and not heard.

  “Probably,” Cearbhall said. “The hunt is about to begin.”

  She felt Grant relax. “The hunt?”

  Cearbhall turned his attention to Grant. “Ye didn’t tell her? If she knows about you, why doesn’t she know about that?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to tell her yet.”

  “He mentioned something about a hunt, but I just found out what he was last night,” Kylie said.

  “Last night? You’re surprisingly calm. I’d think you’d be a bit nervous here, being surrounded by those who’d kill ye for your lifeblood, kill you very easily . . . if he wasn’t here to protect ye.”

  She shrugged and smiled.

  “He’s trying to scare you,” Grant said. “I wouldn’t have brought her to see anyone else. You know that.”

  “I have to be strong; he almost killed me last night.”

  Roaring laughter filled the room. Cearbhall threw his head back.

  Grant’s mouth was wide open. Kylie placed her fingertips under his chin and shut his mouth. He opened it again to speak.

  “Kylie?”

  “What?” she said innocently. />
  He shook his head.

  She saw the confusion in his eyes. “Stop it. I’m just kidding.”

  “But you—”

  “Freaked out last night? Well, yeah, I did, but I’ve had a chance to let it sink in now. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t have had the same reaction.” She rested her hand on his leg. And I think I got over it last night. You do remember what happened afterward, don’t you?

  A grin spread over Grant’s lips. Cearbhall put two and two together and chuckled.

  “Tell me about the hunt. What is it?”

  “It’s when we feed,” Cearbhall said before Grant had a chance to. Grant gave him a harsh look. “She asked. It’ll take all night if you explain it to her.”

  Kylie snickered and Cearbhall looked at her again, smiling.

  “ Obviously, she’s known ye long enough to figure that one out.”

  “It will not take all night,” Grant muttered.

  “Oh really? An’ how long did it take for ye to tell her you’re a vampyre?” He raised a brow. “That’s right, the entire time you’ve known her.”

  “I get the point. Maybe you should tell her everything.”

  “No, no, that’s your job. She’s not my fledgling, although I’d be happy to help if you have an issue changing her.” He grinned at Kylie, eyebrows waggling.

  She smiled and tried not to laugh.

  “I’m sure ye would. Actually, what we wanted to ask ye about was if there’s a way for a vampyre to become mortal again—”

  “Ye mean you,” Cearbhall said.

  “Aye, me,” Grant said. “We’re not sure—”

  “You’re not sure,” Kylie said.

  Grant grunted at the second interruption. “I’m not sure I would recover my mortality when Cianán dies, or die with him. Which would also include you, by the way.”

  Cearbhall waved a hand in the air. “The latter is irrelevant, so clear your mind of it. The former, however, I do not know. You want me to help ye find out, correct?”

  “Please.”

  “An’ you, Kylie, I take it this is something you want?”

  She nodded.

  “Well then, I say we find out,” he said. “But first, I must ask ye somethin’, Grantlund. Do ye claim her?”

  Grant frowned. “She’s not a vampyre.”

  Cearbhall arched a brow. “Are ye sure?” He drew in a long breath though his nose. “I smell an unclaimed vampyre in the midst o’ turnin’.”

  “Bullocks. Your sense of smell is off.”

  Cearbhall stared at him. “Umaidh.”

  “Fuck you.” Grant reached for Kyle’s chin and turned her head. He brushed the hair away, exposing her neck. “Happy? She’s claimed.”

  Cearbhall nodded. “Aye, I see that she is.”

  Kylie touched her neck. She hadn’t seen anything there when she looked in the mirror earlier.

  “What was told in the prophecy has already begun, brother.”

  Grant frowned. “What prophecy?”

  One of Cearbhall’s descendants entered the foyer and looked at him. He smiled and turned to Grant again.

  “Shit, I almost forgot, you’ve had me so distracted. The hunt, Grantlund, must begin now. We can discuss the prophecy later.” He stood from his chair and motioned for the vampyre to gather the others. “Care to join us? I’ve heard it’s something ye don’t do anymore, unless you’re angry. Maybe just this once, for old times? Especially since ye might become a mortal again. They are volunteering, after all. They just don’t know it yet.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up. Kylie thought she saw a type of light in his eyes, a strangely colored light like Grant’s. It disappeared before she got a good look.

  “I hunt less now because I’ve discovered we don’t need to feed every night, but that still doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”

  “Of course not. Ye never did,” Cearbhall said. He looked to Kylie and grinned. “Grantlund never should’ve been a vampyre in the first place. He has too gentle a soul. Pity it was an accident, but he made one hell of a warrior when we needed him.”

  Kylie smiled at him. There was obviously so much she still hadn’t learned about Grant. A warrior? That was probably a good story. And a gentle one, at that. Odd mix.

  Grant turned to her, as though asking permission to go play with the other kids. She smiled.

  “Go ahead. I’m sure you need to.”

  “Are ye sure? I can stay here with you.”

  “She’ll be safe here,” Cearbhall said. “It’s out there ye have to worry about. I’ve guardians surroundin’ the grounds.”

  “The Gargoyles?”

  Pleasant surprise captured Cearbhall’s face. “Aye, how did ye know?”

  “I thought I saw one of them move. At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but since you said that . . . .”

  Cearbhall turned to Grant and slapped his hand on his shoulder. Grant nodded slightly, gesturing a thank you. Kylie wondered what in the hell they were saying to one another.

  “I’ll have Frederick make her something to eat. I’m certain you’re hungry.”

  She smiled at his kindness. “Yes, actually, I am. Grant wouldn’t stop anywhere on the drive up.”

  “Drive?” He looked at Grant. “Ye didn’t fly?”

  “No.” Grant motioned to Kylie. “It was still daylight, an’ I had her with me.”

  Cearbhall shook his head and chuckled. “You are a strange man. Why didn’t ye just appear at front of my door?” He looked at Kylie again. “Are you sure ye want to be with him? You’d have more fun with me.” He winked.

  “Very funny,” Grant said. “And no, you wouldn’t.”

  Grant stepped out into the night. He took in the cool breeze carrying scents he’d missed for so long. Hearing footsteps passing him, he opened his eyes. Two of Cearbhall’s fledglings walked by and moved for the courtyard decorated with gargoyles and other stone figures, some of which he recognized.

  Daniella—the young blonde—smiled as she passed Grant, and he nodded. Witnessing his magic changed her mind about him, it would seem. And the fact that he was clearly much older and stronger than her. She joined the others in the courtyard amidst the shrubbery near the maze. Cearbhall and his fucking mazes.

  Cearbhall stepped out and they walked side by side. Once they reached the other three, Cearbhall motioned for them to go ahead. The trio jumped into the sky. Grant watched his brother’s children fly off, and felt his brother’s stare.

  “What is it, brother?”

  Grant turned to him. “I’ve been meanin’ to ask ye, why d’ye only have three with you? You’ve been around almost as long as Cianán has.”

  “Slayers.”

  The ice cold word was all Grant needed to hear. He assumed it was the reason Rachael, Cearbhall’s lover and wife for centuries, wasn’t around.

  “Bastards.” Grant hated them. Every last one of them.

  They jumped into the sky together, where Cearbhall took the lead.

  * * * * *

  “She seems rather intelligent, Grantlund. Where did ye find her?”

  They flew over the city. The other three spread out behind them. Fledglings never flew in front of their Master. Grant chuckled under his breath. He remembered doing the same with Cianán.

  “I met her in the States, in Arizona.”

  “Arizona? Glutton for punishment, much?” Cearbhall said. “Why didn’t ye just go to the Sahara if ye wanted to fry in the desert?”

  “Just because you don’t care for the sun, it doesn’t mean every vampyre out there hates it.”

  “Oh, that’s right, you actually enjoy it, don’t ye?” He shook his head. “You are a—”

  “Strange man? So I’ve been told,” Grant cocked a brow at him and focused on the flight once more. “I went there with a purpose. I felt Siobhán’s locket move an’ happened to get to the destination before it did. Fucking postal system on this planet sucks. That damned old woman sent the locket to Kylie; she’d promise
d it to me.”

  “Aye, I noticed her wearin’ it.”

  “Kylie’s actually related to the cunning woman somehow, can ye believe that? I thought the old bat never married.”

  “She didn’t. Much like your great great great great—”

  “I get the point.”

  “—great-grandmother.”

  “Asshole.”

  They flew over and around the many steeples of the Catholic Cathedral. The cathedral awaited their arrival; silvery spears pointed to the heavens to impale them on, just like in the old days. Grant knew Cearbhall had seen it happen long ago, during the twelfth century. He’d said he still didn’t know how it was the vampyres got up there, considering the limited technology. They flew too close to one of them and Cearbhall shuddered. He increased his speed to get past the spike as quickly as possible.

  “Didn’t Siobhán have brothers?”

  Grant gave a quick nod. “Two. Fergus an’ John.”

  “I wonder which one Kylie descends from.”

  The corner of Grant’s mouth lifted. “Probably Fergus. She has his stubbornness.”

  “Aye, I remember Fergus.”

  “How could one forget the man?”

  “He was definitely stubborn, but had a heart of gold,” Cearbhall said.

  “An’ he hated Cianán,” Grant added. “That alone gives him royal status in my book.”

  Cearbhall agreed. “He knew your death was . . . odd, y’know. Never once questioned it, but he knew, especially after Siobhán died.”

  “Aye, I know,” Grant replied sullenly.

  “Cianán wanted to kill him, but I talked him out of it.” Cearbhall glanced at him. He looked away abruptly. “I suppose we’ve all played a part—”

  “In the prophecy?”

  Cearbhall sighed. “Aye.”

  “What is it?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough, dear brother.”

  * * * * *

  Kylie wandered into the library and stared at the books covering the walls. The shelves spanned from one wall to the other, around the corner and stopped at the window. They began again on the other side of the second window and continued around, finally stopping at the entrance. The shelves extended from the floor to the cathedral ceiling, where there was a small balcony wrapping around the room to reach the shelves on the second level. She couldn’t figure out how to get onto the balcony. There weren’t any stairs, and the ladder wasn’t tall enough. She wondered if she was supposed to sprout wings. She laughed and walked past the large desk centered in front of the shelves to her left.