by Nina Bangs
Katy looked interested. “I could go for a masked man.”
A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. “I still think we should go back to the wagon.” Since Katy wasn’t into research, Ally had done it for her. Ally knew all there was to know about every Irish fairy, and she’d bet not one of them would show tonight.
“Know what? I think you were switched at birth. Wouldn’t be surprised if you belonged to Edna Wilson. She just sits around on that old yellow porch wearin’ a sour puss and whining about everything. Whined her husband into an early grave.” Katy marched ahead of Ally, her bright orange hair a beacon in the rainy Irish night.
“Give it up, Katy. Black Liam likes virgins. You’re no virgin.” Ally had been a virgin when she married Dave. Marrying a virgin was important to him. And didn’t the “perfect” wife always try to please her husband? Fat lot of good it had done her.
“I could pretend.” Katy turned her head to offer Ally a sly grin.
Oh, boy. “This is ridiculous. Let’s look at things logically.”
“No.”
“Any vampire worth his salt would be hitting the streets of Dublin scoping out hot-blooded wenches, not wandering around an old crumbling castle at midnight. Face it, we’re small change.” Ally pushed a damp tendril of hair from her face.
“I want to see a vampire.” Katy’s tone suggested that if Black Liam knew what was good for him, he’d better appear. “Besides, I’m on to something here. I feel a presence.”
“Rain, Katy. It’s called rain.”
“You’ve got the sensitivity of a turnip, just like your Uncle George. Wouldn’t recognize a spirit if it pinched your bottom.” She hunched her thin shoulders and trudged onward. Katy Gallagher, intrepid huntress of all things spooky.
“I’ve got loads of sensitivity. I’m sensitive to sinus headaches, hacking coughs—things you get from standing in the rain.” Ally did some mental fanny kicking. Why had she let her great-aunt talk her into coming to Ireland with her? Okay, so Katy had used the an-old-helpless-woman-can’t-go-to-Ireland-by-herself ploy. Hah! Katy was a seventy-year-old Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
To be honest, it wasn’t all her great-aunt’s fault. When Katy had set her sights on writing about Irish fairies, Ally had thought it might be a fun vacation. The horse-drawn gypsy wagon had sounded relaxing and stress-free. Wrong. She should’ve known that traveling with Katy would never be stress-free.
“Too bad you take after your mother’s side of the family. Don’t get me wrong, Ruth’s a fine woman, but she doesn’t have a speck of imagination. Takes things too seriously. Always too busy fighting with that nephew of mine. Should know by now she’s never going to change him. Doesn’t pay to get too wrapped up in a man.” She cast Ally a meaningful glance.
“Save the lecture. I know I spent too much time on Dave.” Five years too much. After five years of marriage, Dave had left her for a woman who didn’t give a flip whether she pleased him or not. “I vote for heading back to the wagon. It’s going to be a no-vampire night, and it can’t be too safe wandering around by ourselves in the dark.”
“Loosen up, honey. It’s fun being scared.” Katy peered at her watch.
“The only one who’ll be scared is your insurance agent. What if you trip and break a leg? What’re you going to put on the claim form? I was chasing a vampire?” Okay, she’d try to think good thoughts about this trip. It would give her time to work on her new book, Coping with Single Life.
“You’re a depressing person.” Katy’s stride never faltered. “Remind me to leave you home next time.”
Ally sighed. Maybe she was depressing, but negative was where she was at right now. Only one positive in her life at present. She was positive she’d never worry about making a man happy again.
She’d written a string of best-selling books teaching women how to be the perfect wife. The Perfect Wife in the Kitchen, The Perfect Wife in Bed, The Perfect Wife at the Baseball Game, ad nauseam, all encouraging women to go the extra mile to please their husbands. She’d been so sure this was the key to a fulfilling marriage.
Ally had watched her mother battle her father over unimportant things from the time Ally was old enough to understand all the screaming and to hide her head under the pillows. She was determined to save other women from a lifetime of constant strife.
Fulfilling marriage. Right. On the way out the door for the last time, Dave had called her boring. He wanted a woman who was more of a challenge, more exciting. Ally narrowed her gaze. He’d wanted bitchy; she’d given him bitchy. The divorce settlement had been more exciting than their marriage ever was.
“It’s almost twelve.” Katy sounded gleeful.
Black Liam had better protect his most treasured body parts with Katy on the prowl.
“That McDermott guy said if we walk around this ruin at the exact stroke of midnight, we’ll meet Black Liam.”
Ally rolled her eyes. “The only thing that’ll happen if we walk around this place is we’ll fall off the cliff. I love Ireland. I might even love this old castle, if I could see it. But I don’t enjoy anything while standing in a cold rain at midnight.” She hunched her shoulders against the damp chill. “It’s raining harder.”
Katy stared distractedly into the darkness. “This isn’t rain, honey. It’s the soft Irish weather.”
“Well, some of your soft Irish weather is trickling down my back.”
The quiet buzz of Katy’s watch signaled midnight. Good. Now they could walk around three sides of this gothic novel reject, nothing would happen, and they could return to their built-by-insane-gypsies-who-hate-tourists caravan wagon.
Ally shivered. As if things weren’t bad enough, the wind had picked up. Maybe the breeze would blow the rain clouds away. Was she an optimist, or what?
She turned her back to the strong gusts that whipped strands of hair into her eyes, while the rest of her hair blew in every direction. Lucky that only Katy could see her.
The only comfort in this whole rotten night was knowing she had pepper spray in her pocket. Katy might be looking for vampires, but Ally was ready if something more substantial popped up.
“When I go to the great beyond, tell everyone I’m scheduling hauntings at noon. Midnight is the pits.” Ally turned and continued walking, her muttered complaint swept away on a gust of wind that whistled through the myriad cracks and crannies of the ancient building.
Ally was so busy thinking sarcastic thoughts, she didn’t even realize Katy had stopped until she bumped into her.
“You go on ahead, honey. Got something in my shoe. I’ll catch up. Shout if you see anything.” Katy bent down to work at the laces of her running shoes.
Right. She’d just mosey along and see what she could see. Which was nothing. Ally would kill for a flashlight. Katy was wearing a spelunkers headlight on her head, but she wouldn’t turn it on. Said the light might scare off a vampire. Now Ally was reduced to feeling her way along the stone wall. At least the sound of the waves would keep her away from the cliff’s edge.
“See anything yet?” Katy’s voice wafted to her above the wailing wind.
“No.” Curse the luck that had sent them into McNulty’s Pub. The man who’d spun this yarn for them probably had a tale for every gullible tourist. Well, Ally O’Neill didn’t believe in ghosts and ghoulies. She was only here for Katy.
The corner caught her by surprise. One minute solid stone lay beneath her fingers, then nothing. The rain, darkness, and frenzied sea sounds made for a great horror-movie backdrop. What a fun way to spend the night.
Gritting her teeth, she shuffled onward. Besides being wet and windblown, she was bored. Ally was open to a few vampires and demons livening things up. She sure wished something would happen.
While a sudden crack of thunder shook the ground, a jagged streak of lightning illuminated the scene for a few seconds.
Ally looked up and froze. God, cancel that wish!
The brilliant white flash outlined a massive figure. Huge dark wi
ngs floated around the shape as it moved inexorably toward her.
The logical, no-nonsense upbringing of twenty-seven years deserted her in a surge of primitive fear. This was absolutely not on her itinerary of things to see in Ireland. Her voice was locked in an off position as she whirled and ran.
She panted and her arms pumped frantically as she tried to put space between it and her, but that last slice of banoffi pie at dinner weighed her down. Please, let me escape, and I’ll never whine again. A sweeping promise she probably couldn’t keep, but it was worth a shot. She glanced back to see that Black Liam was gaining. God wasn’t bargaining tonight.
“Ally, did you see a vampire yet?” Katy’s voice drifted to her on the suddenly still air.
Yep. Been there, done that. Feet, fly. At least she was leading Black Liam away from Katy. They could put that on her tombstone: The vampire didn’t get Katy.
“Blood of Boren!”
The husky male voice behind her made her pump even harder. She didn’t care how often he mentioned his favorite drink, she wasn’t going to be part of it.
She splashed through a stream and scrambled up the steep incline beyond. The thud of pursuing footsteps sounded above the frantic pounding of her heart.
Wait. Human voice. Human footsteps. Human? Her logic struggled to its feet and dusted off the footprints her stampeding brain cells had left when they made a dash for the door.
Human. Not a vampire. Some human scumbag was chasing her. She’d allowed herself to get caught up in superstitious claptrap she swore she didn’t believe in.
Now she was mad. Her fury stopped her headlong flight with a suddenness that brought the man barreling into her. She crashed to the ground, pinned by his weight.
“You’re trespassing, babe.”
Ally blinked at the wet blades of grass tickling her nose while she processed the huskily murmured accusation. Where? Where was she trespassing?
“This castle’s mine.” His declaration of ownership warmed the side of her neck.
She tried to concentrate on his words, but the weight of his body, the pressure of his groin tucked against her behind, sort of distracted her from any deep focusing. “Fine. So you own the castle, and I own the Boardwalk. Who the heck cares? Get off me. I can’t breathe.” The breathing thing had nothing to do with his weight.
His soft chuckle didn’t sound friendly as he rolled off her and stood.
“If the vampire’s hassling you, you tell him he doesn’t want to mess with Katy Gallagher.” Katy’s voice would have thrown fear into a Viking berserker.
“I’m fine,” Ally hastened to assure her. But was she? There were different degrees of “fine.”
She thought about her pepper spray. No, he didn’t pose that kind of danger.
Ally scrambled to her knees, then looked up at him. “If this place belongs to you, why don’t you sound Irish?” If she kept him talking, maybe his scary index would go down or her fearless index would rise.
He shrugged. “I don’t live here. Just visiting. Couldn’t wait till morning to see the old place, so I hiked out here tonight.”
“So, you’re kind of an absentee landlord.” Keep him on the defensive. “Sure have let the old homestead get run down.”
His laugh was low, not defensive. “It isn’t working, babe.”
“What isn’t working?” My heart, my lungs? Seemed like every part of her was either speeding up or slowing down.
“Trying to keep me talking until Katy comes to save you.” He turned his head at the sound of Katy’s noisy approach, and his long dark hair shifted across broad shoulders.
“That’s a lie.” That’s the truth, but I’d rather dunk my head in ice water than admit it.
His all-weather coat flapped open in the breeze. How humiliating. She’d been scared witless by a flapping coat.
Ally climbed to her feet. He didn’t try to help her. Carefully, she brushed dirt and grass from her jacket. She needed time to think. “If you hiked out here, where’re you staying tonight?”
“I could stay with you.” His tone suggested the staying wouldn’t be all that unpleasant.
Ally dragged in a deep breath to jump-start her lungs; then the humor in his voice registered. He was only kidding. Relief washed over her.
It was his voice. She knew even if he were reading a grocery list, his voice would carry the promise of danger, sex, and sin. Ally could imagine his murmured whisper, “Don’t forget the whipped cream, babe.”
Okay, it was his voice and his body. He was tall with shoulders that were solid with muscle and maturity; it didn’t matter that she hadn’t gotten a clear look at his face. Two out of three made for a tempting package. Not for her, of course. But something about his total impact still scared her. She backed up a step.
“Ally, if you’ve found Black Liam, don’t let him get away. I have my digital camera, digital camcorder, and digital voice recorder all packed here in my fisherman’s vest. We’ll nail this sucker.”
“So, did you find him, Ally?” His grin was a slash of white in the darkness.
A clear and present danger to all women? “Yes.” No hesitation. Some things were a given.
She had no time for elaboration because Katy burst from the darkness, camera in hand and orange hair flying. “Where is he? Just point me at him and move out of the way.”
Ally sighed. This would not be easy to explain. “Sorry, Katy. No photo ops tonight. Just you, me, and . . .” She waited.
“Brian Byrne. I own this keep.” End of explanation.
“Maybe it’s Black Liam masquerading as the owner. Vampires are tricky bastards.” Katy moved closer to peer up into his face. “Are you the dark despoiler of virgins that McDermott guy told us about?”
“You want a dark despoiler, I can be a dark despoiler.” He stared over Katy’s head at Ally.
Katy stepped back and grinned at him. “I just bet you can. I’m Katy Gallagher, and this is my grandniece, Ally O’Neill.”
Katy was way too friendly with this stranger. Fine, so most women would want to be more than friendly with Brian Byrne.
“Guess we missed the vampire. May as well head back to the wagon.” Katy paused to give Brian time to fill in any information he might care to offer.
Brian chose to offer nothing.
“Where are you from?” Katy was reduced to direct grilling.
“Philly.”
“Tucson,” Katy countered. “Where you staying tonight?”
Brian nodded toward the keep.
Katy made a rude noise. “You camp out here, you’ll have mold growing on you by morning. Grab your jammies and—”
“No.” Ally had never been so sure in her life about a “no.”
“—bunk with us for the night. The wagon sleeps four, so there’s plenty of room.”
Ally blinked. She’d forgotten that Katy could ignore the end of the world if it didn’t fit in with her plans for the day. Ally narrowed her gaze. “No.”
“I don’t wear jammies.”
Ally knew he had Katy’s undivided attention. He certainly had hers.
“I sleep naked.”
Well, that sure cleared things up.
“That won’t be a problem. Haven’t seen a naked man since Padraic passed on. Sort of miss seeing one once in a while.” Katy started walking back toward the wagon. It obviously didn’t occur to her that someone else might have a problem with sharing sleeping quarters with a naked stranger.
“No!” Ally’s shout would have woken any spirits that weren’t already enjoying the show. “No one is sharing our wagon. I’m sure Mr. Byrne brought camping gear with him. Didn’t you?” She gave him her death glare, just in case he was thinking of giving the wrong answer.
“Sure will be cold out here.”
She knew he was smiling.
“Hmmph. Probably been so long since Ally saw a fine-looking naked man, her woman parts’ve all shriveled up and dried out. Hormones’ve stopped flowing. Her ex-husband doesn’t count. Wouldn�
��t pay squat to see him naked.” With that definitive analysis, Katy strode away, leaving Ally alone with Brian Byrne.
“Bet it’ll be cold in the wagon, too.” He was still smiling. “But I’m easy. Wouldn’t want to embarrass you, so I’ll stay here tonight.”
Ally sighed. “Katy’s used to getting her own way, and her own way doesn’t always coincide with good sense.” She narrowed her gaze. “You didn’t help things any.”
“Hey, I did my part. She wanted to know how I slept.” He shrugged. “I told her how I slept.”
“She didn’t ask you.” Ally knew she should end this conversation.
“But she wanted to know.” Unexpectedly, he moved closer. “You wanted to know.”
“I didn’t.” Okay, so she sort of wanted to know.
“Afraid of me, Ally?”
“No.” Yes. Because she’d finally gotten a good look at his face. She might have missed out on a vampire, but she’d sure as heck found a devil, if you thought of the devil as temptation incarnate. Full sensual lips, knife-edge cheekbones, and his eyes . . . She’d never seen eyes like his. Deep forest green: cool, secret, and shadowed by a thick fringe of lashes as black as his hair. Ally noted the slight slant of those incredible eyes. Yep, definitely a devil.
“Liar.”
“What?” She’d forgotten the question. But she hadn’t forgotten his closeness. He was close enough for her to feel his body heat, to catch the scent of danger and warm male. Before she could transfer the danger signal from brain to feet, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
It was a kiss to build fantasies on. His lips brushed across hers, then settled in for the long haul. They were firm, with a high enough “hot” index to melt her lips and seal them together forever. When his tongue slid along her lower lip, she was relieved to discover her lips weren’t permanently bonded. She parted them so he could explore possibilities. His tongue tangled with hers, deepening the kiss, deadening her other senses to everything but the taste, the feel of him.
A sudden flash of lightning lit up the world behind Ally’s closed lids. It also awoke her snoozing brain to the reality of an intruder in the house.