“What?”
“I’ll explain it all, but first, I need you to check something out on the net. When I was knocking them around—”
“You knocked them around? How many were there?”
“Three.”
“Crivvens, Damian, you could have been killed!”
“I’m fine. I took them out.”
“How were you able to take out three vamps?”
“I had incentive. I’ll explain later.” He ignored his father’s questioning gaze. “Right now, I need you to research something. One of them said something as he scented me, a word I’d never heard before.”
“What was it?”
“Vodlak, or something. I’m not sure how it’s spelled.”
“It’s probably just some vamp swear word.”
“Could be, but I got the feeling he was saying it to me, or about me.”
“Still could be a swear word.”
“Aye, but check it out, will you?”
“Of course.” Dougal began punching letters onto the keyboard. “Now, tell me, what were you doing fighting three vamps?”
Damian sighed. Honesty was important if he and his father were ever to solve the mystery of his existence. “I scented a female I wanted. She was in trouble.”
“I see.”
“It’s nothing I’ve ever sensed before. I mean, I’ve desired females before, but this one was different. I had to have her. I had to save her. I actually…”
“What?”
“I scented her for the first time in the tower the other night, during the full moon.”
Dougal stopped typing and gazed at his son. “You’re not serious?”
“Aye, but it’s the only thing I recall.”
“It’s a start. You’ve never remembered anything that happens during the change before.”
“True.”
“Puzzling, though, because there weren’t any females—” Dougal cocked his head. “Oh, Merlina’s granddaughter?”
“No. Her cousin. Suzanne.”
“Ah. Miss Wood.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Aye, she is. They both are. But lad, you can’t possibly—”
“I can’t help it.” Damian’s groin tightened at the mere thought of Suzanne. “She’s mine, Da. I don’t know how I know it, but she’s mine. I’m staying in her room with her.”
Dougal stood up and faced his son with fire in his eyes. “You’re what?”
“I’ve moved my stuff back into my old room. Her room. I need to be with her.”
“Have you gone daft, lad? I won’t allow that.”
“Sorry, Da. It’s already done. She’s mine.”
“I raised you better than this, Damian. You can’t force a woman.”
“I’m not forcing her. I just need to be near her.”
“Help ma boab.” Dougal sat back down facing his monitor. “How does the lass feel about this?”
“She’s attracted to me.”
“But how does she feel about it?”
“She doesn’t understand. But the truth is, Da, I don’t understand it either. So that’s one more thing to research. Why do I desire this woman? I can’t get enough of her scent. I want to be near her all the time. I want to protect her. Lie with her. Impregnate her.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Is she all right? The vamps didn’t hurt her?”
“No. I got there in time.”
“Thank God for that.”
“Trust me, I have.”
“But you don’t believe in God.”
Damian regarded his father, his jaw clenched. “I do now.”
8
Fortunately, when Isabella saw the cute little bookstore, she forgot all about Damian.
“Oh Suze, we’ve got to go in there.” Isabella parked the VW in a dirt alley behind the Lunar Eclipse Bookshop and pulled Suzanne around to the front and into the store.
Suzanne rolled her eyes skyward as she took in the displays of tarot cards, books on witchcraft and moon magick, and incense and herbs. This was paradise for Isabella, pure torture for Suzanne. She found a book of Celtic philosophy and leafed through it, looking up from time to time to see Isabella put another bunch of herbs into the basket she carried.
Bored with the Celts, Suzanne picked up a guide to the Tarot. I really am desperate. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tall man approach Isabella. Strange that he wore dark glasses inside. The two began a conversation, with Isabella babbling and smiling as was her way. Suzanne put down her book and went to join them.
“Hey, there you are,” Isabella said. “I’d like you to meet the owner of this shop.”
The black-haired man removed his sunglasses to reveal blue eyes.
Cold eyes.
Icy eyes.
Suzanne’s stomach knotted. She grabbed Isabella’s arm and struggled for balance.
“You!”
9
“What is it, Suze?” Isabella said. “You’re hurting my arm.”
“It’s… It’s…” She pointed at the owner of the Lunar Eclipse.
“This is—” Isabella began.
“Rex,” Suzanne said stiffly. “We’ve met.”
“Yes, Rex Donnelly,” Isabella said, her eyes wide. “When did you meet?”
“Aye, when indeed?” Rex echoed. “Sure and I’d remember meeting such a lovely lady.”
Suzanne swallowed. Her heart pounded against her bosom like a bass drum.
“Surely you recall, Mr. Donnelly. Last evening, you threw me into a den of lions.”
“Suzanne,” Isabella said. “Perhaps you’re mistaken.”
“Bull, Bell. This guy handed me over to the three who tried to rape me! We need to call the cops. Are they even called cops here? I’ll call Scotland Yard, I will!”
Rex moved away from Suzanne. “I’m so sorry. You’ve obviously had a traumatic experience. But I assure you, we’ve never met. Perhaps it was someone who looked like me.”