Broken Heart 02 Don't Talk Back to Your Vampire (21 page)

Unfortunately, his arrival in the small seaside village brought terrible consequences.

His wife killed herself and the villagers killed Patrick.

" 'As his son passed from the mortal realm, Ruadan drained him and, tearing open the vein in his own neck, forced his son to drink his tainted blood. And so Padraig was Turned,' " read Lorcan in his rich voice. His brogue was deep and lyrical. " 'Ruadan took Padraig to the cave where Lorcan lived and bid him to care for his brother. He instructed Lorcan on the ways of the
deamhan fola
, and warned him that his brother was no longer a man but a creature destined to walk only in the night.

" 'But Lorcan did not heed his father's warnings. When Padraig awoke, he was mad with grief and hunger. He tore open his brother's neck and drained him to the point of death. When he realized what he'd done, Padraig saved Lorcan in the same manner Ruadan had saved him.

" 'Now both of Ruadan's sons were
deamhan fola.' "

When he was finished, I clapped. "Bravo! Bravo!" I pressed my hands against my heart. "You did a great job, Lor."

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He smiled shyly, as though he wasn't sure how to respond to praise. "There are days that it's still strange to know that my family started the vampire race. My great-grandmother Morrigu is very powerful and truthfully, she scares the bloody hell out of nearly everyone."

"I hope never to meet her," I said, yawning. "No offense."

"None taken, especially since I feel the same way."

"How long did it take you to forgive Patrick?"

Lorcan blinked. "For what?"

"For murdering you and making you into a vampire."

Shock etched his features. "There was nothing to forgive. He was starved and didn't understand his new nature. He wasn't in his right mind."

"Sounds familiar."

"Eva… it's not the same as what I did. I've lived for four thousand years—that's more life than most get.

It was selfish of me to try anything, to
do
anything in order to keep it."

"It's not wrong to want to live," I said quietly. "Whether you're forty or four thousand."

"Eva." He leaned forward and squeezed my arm. "You will not die. I won't let that happen. But as for me… If I had simply accepted my fate, I would've saved the lives of eleven innocents."

"And Marybeth?" The only daughter of Linda, Stan's not-girlfriend, she had been killed by another lycan hybrid. Lorcan had saved her life by Turning her.

He snapped the book shut. "Do not do an immoral thing for moral reasons!"

"Thomas Hardy," I said. "No evil can happen to a good man, either in life or after death."

"Plato. But… the yoke a man creates for himself by wrong-doing will breed hate in the kindliest nature."

"George Eliot." I pursed my lips, thinking. Then I grinned. "When choosing between two evils, I always like to try the one I've never tried before."

"What?"

"Mae West." I looked at Lorcan, wishing I could hold him in my arms and show him he was worthy of forgiveness and of love. "Here's a little armchair psychology. It's easier to mentally flail yourself and stay away from those you hurt. If you never forgive yourself, you don't have to risk that those you killed
won't
forgive you."

"You're saying that I'm afraid to face what I did and make peace with it."

I nodded.

"I will consider your words," he said.

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I could tell by his expression that he meant what he said. I had given him something to chew on, and I was glad. Maybe, just maybe, he could build a real life in a community that would, I was certain, welcome him.

Lorcan leaned forward and tapped Bert's hip. "C'mon, boy. We need to let Eva sleep."

"I'm not tired," I whined. "I want to hear another story. What about Koschei? I'd be interested to know more about my Family."

Bert stood on all fours, shook himself so hard that drool flew everywhere, and jumped off the bed. I wiped off my slimed cheek and laughed. The Great Dane looked at me, pushed the image of a ham bone into my mind, and barked. "He wants a—"

"Ham bone," said Lor. "He has a one-track mind. He'll get one, along with the ham."

"What about the story?" I asked. I didn't want him to go. Being left alone drove me batty. I had everything in the way of entertainment, from the flat-screen TV to PlayStation 3, but I rarely used either. I hadn't thought I'd ever tire of books, but I felt restless and bored every time I picked one up. My skin itched and I felt like a thousand ants marched up and down my body. I tried not to react to the sensations.

"
Solas
," whispered Lorcan.

Pink, gold, and red orbs glittered into the room. They floated like chubby fairies above me, twinkling and swirling. Delighted, I watched them dance and play. Suddenly I felt better.

"The book will read to you," said Lor. "Close your eyes and listen. And try to rest."

"Okay." I agreed reluctantly, not energetic enough to ask questions about a book that could talk. More
sidhe
magic from Lor, no doubt.

I yawned again and lay flat, tucking myself more comfortably under the thick quilt. I watched him place the open book on his chair. He pressed his palms to it and muttered. The book glowed.

Leaning down, Lorcan kissed my forehead. I caught his face and put my mouth to his. Warmth and need flooded me instantly, but Lor's kiss was too gentle, too brief. He brought the quilt to my chin and then he turned away. He flicked off the lights, whispered good night, and he and Bert left. I sighed as the door banged shut.

I hate to be alone. Why do they leave me alone?

Clenching my teeth, I shuddered violently. If only I could breathe… if only I could breathe..
. oh, you
don't need to breathe, remember
? Slowly, I got hold of myself.
Everything's okay, Eva. Just chill out

.

My gaze was drawn to the glowing book. As the fairy lights engaged in a whimsical ballet in the soft darkness, Lorcan's brogue filled the room…

I closed my eyes and listened.

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Legends of the Seven Ancients

Koschei the Second

As written by Lorcan, Fill don Tuatha de Danann. It was said that Koschei the Deathless
kidnapped women from their beds and killed men with only his stare. Others told of a skeletal
man with black hair and wild eyes that stole brides from their husbands on the wedding night.

Some said that his soul was hidden inside an egg stored in a chest without a key. And there were
those who said that Koschei was merely a ghost, a harbinger of bad luck.

But Koschei was not a ghost, a kidnapper, or a soulless creature.

He was
deamhan fola.

After Ruadan the First was banished by his wife, he traveled by boat to a cold and barren place
far from the land of Eire. As his nature dictated, he drank the blood of mortal beings. Doing so
was arduous because no victim was willing. Though Ruadan was clever and brave, he was unable
to convince mortals that he was not a monster. In every village, he had to lie in wait for the
unwary and take his sustenance by force. Soon Ruadan gained a reputation as a
strigoi mort—
a
vampire
.

Word about the
strigoi mort
spread quickly. Villagers and farmers begged their gods, their wise
men, and their healers for protection, but though they laid herbs on their doorsills and curses
around their houses, Ruadan was not affected. Superstition was not magic; he knew the power,
beauty, and truth of real magic
.

One night, Ruadan attacked a farmer, who fought so fiercely that Ruadan let him go. Though the
vampire fled, the farmer and other terrified villagers chased him relentlessly. Forced to travel
deeper and deeper into the craggy, snow-filled mountains, Ruadan subsisted on animal blood and
slept in caves.

Three days passed. On the fourth evening, he discovered a small village tucked into the
mountainside. Cold and hungry, he managed to subdue a young woman long enough to drink
what he needed. But she was the favorite wife of a powerful wizard named Koschei. Vowing
revenge, Koschei used his magic to track Ruadan down.

Koschei had a more fearsome reputation than even a
strigoi mort.
He was bone thin and wore only
black robes. His hair was long and dark, his eyes hard and green as jade. Through his magic and
his psychic abilities, he coaxed food, entertainment, and companionship from other villages. Many
people in the region feared Koschei and sent gifts to the dark wizard so that he would not leave
his mountain home. And so Koschei had all that he needed to live a comfortable life, including
many wives, concubines, and children
.

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Ruadan was surprised to find himself at the mercy of a mere mortal. Koschei's most powerful gift
was the ability to glamour. Within moments, Koschei compelled Ruadan to tell all his secrets.

After hearing his enemy's stones, Koschei revealed his own secret: He was dying. He told Ruadan
that he feared that his village and his family were in jeopardy, that if he died, rival peoples would
attack.

"They will not fear me as a ghost," he said. "I will make a pact with you, demon. Give me
immortal life and I will teach you my magic. I will show you how to draw a human to you, to
drink, and to make him forget."

Ruadan agreed, though he warned Koschei that becoming a
deamhan fola
was a terrible risk. "I've
never made another," he said, "and this may end your life that much sooner
."

But Koschei was determined to become immortal. They agreed that he would teach Ruadan the
magic first, in case the transformation failed.

The bargain struck, Koschei spent every evening with Ruadan showing him the ways of the mind.

He showed Ruadan how to alter his voice and how to create illusions. "People believe so easily,"

he said. "Show them what they expect and they will not question you."

After thirty days had passed, Ruadan had learned all that he could from the wizard. On the
thirty-first day, Koschei said, "It is time for you to keep your promise."

Ruadan drained his new friend of all his blood. When Koschei breathed his last, Ruadan tore open
his own wrist and pressed the bleeding wound against the man's pale lips. His magicked blood
flowed into the body of Koschei and soon the wizard awoke
—
as
deamhan fola.

Koschei easily learned all the ways of the
deamhan fola.
Ruadan was pleased by the kindness of his
friend and knew that Koschei would continue to bless those under his care
.