“You can’t keep her here forever. Well, some of our kind might, but not our family.”
“She’s only fourteen. We have time.”
“Not much.”
“I know.”
“Have you tried to use amnis? To take the edge off the worst of the memories?”
“She’s… resistant to any mental manipulation. Our best guess is from about age eight or so. So two years of abuse at the hands of her stepfather? I doubt amnis would be able to touch anything but the surface. I’ve been able to relieve the worst of her anxiety so she can function, but it’s not enough.”
Carwyn straightened in his chair and reached over to pat his son’s shoulder. “Get the girl the help she needs. Call Anne if you need to; she’ll be discreet. I know you don’t want to appear weak with a human under your aegis, but there’s no shame in seeking help when you don’t have the answers.”
“I know.” Ioan nodded. “I will. I promise.”
“Good.” Carwyn smiled as he looked at his softhearted child. As long as Ioan had existed, there was still not a human he encountered he didn’t want to help in some way. It was his gift and his burden. “Brigid may not be a child of your blood, but she is the child of your heart. You’ll find a way to help her; I know it.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Tad.”
Carwyn chuckled to hear the childish endearment. “Oh, it’s always easier to put confidence in others instead of yourself.”
“True. When are you off to America?”
Carwyn grinned. The vampire was still a priest for his small village in Wales, along with being the head of one of the largest clans of earth vampires on the globe. Though most of his children remained in Britain, his influence and counsel was sought through much of Europe and the Americas on a regular basis. A true vacation for the busy vampire was long overdue.
“I’ll leave in November and stay for a few months. I haven’t had a proper visit with Giovanni in years.”
“Where is he now?”
“Atlanta, Georgia.” He imitated a drawl so bad that Ioan turned red in the face from laughter. “But he’s talking about moving to Texas.”
“Texas?” Ioan said. “I’m having a hard time picturing the Italian in a cowboy hat.”
“I’m not. It’s been good for a laugh more than once.”
“You’ll enjoy the warm weather. Take things a bit easier. You’ve too many responsibilities here.”
Carwyn stood. “The joy and headache of children, my son. But I’m definitely looking forward to a bit of a break.”
“You’re packing all your hideous Hawaiian shirts, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely. I’ve even bought some new ones especially for the visit.”
Ioan winced. “Try not to get into too much trouble.”
“Who, me? Never.”
“That’s what you always say.”
“And I’m right… fifty percent of the time.”
Ioan squinted. “Closer to twenty-five.”
“Pessimist.”
“Realist.”
They turned to leave the library, only to be almost bowled over by the indignant form of Brigid Connor as she rushed in. She glanced at both of them with a curled lip before she rushed over to the bookcase, grabbed a volume, then quickly exited the room, barely sparing them a glance.
Ioan sighed. “Radcliffe. Lovely, she’s feeling gothic. Should make for lively dinner conversation.”
Carwyn slapped Ioan on the shoulder. “Feel the love, son.”
Chapter Two
Dublin, Ireland
September 2004
“Hello?”
Brigid started when she heard the knock on the door of her rooms. Though the bustle of Parliament Street seeped in through the windows, it was the first interruption she’d faced since her Aunt Sinead and Ioan had dropped her off at the secured building in Dublin city center the night before.
“Hello?” The friendly female voice came again, along with another polite knock.
She looked around at the jumble of boxes and hangers that lay around the room before she walked to the door and cracked it open.
“Can I help you?”
A pair of bright blue eyes met her amber-brown ones. The girl’s face was open and friendly, a marked contrast to the wary expression Brigid knew she habitually wore. She looked to be the same age as Brigid, but wore bright colors and her light brown hair was pulled into a cheerful ponytail. The girl stuck out her hand.
“I’m Emily. I’m your neighbor next door.”
“Oh.” Brigid looked down at the offered hand for a moment, tucking a chunk of dark purple hair behind her ear, before she quashed the instinctive leap of anxiety and held out her own. “Brigid Connor. I’m—”
“From Wicklow, I heard.” Emily smiled some more and looked at the door that Brigid was guarding. She bit the inside of her lip and forced a smile at the friendly girl. “I have to say, you don’t look like your average country girl. But that’s cool.”
“Right. Um… thanks?”
Natural, safe interactions, Brigid. The comforting voice of her counselor whispered at the back of her mind. Safe interactions in a comfortable environment. On your terms. Always your terms. You are in control.
Brigid took a deep breath and opened the door. The human girl was no threat. As she stepped through the door, Brigid noticed her soft appearance and relaxed demeanor. Just a girl. A friendly girl. This was why she had forced herself away from the comfort of the mountains and into the city for school.