Giovanni nodded. Nothing but the grief of losing half of yourself could tear a person in two the way that Deirdre Mac Cuille had been. Her screams were hardly that of a woman; they more closely resembled the death keen of the mythical banshee. She tore at her hair while Carwyn shouted, “Where, Deirdre? Where?” over and over again. She was unintelligible, gnashing her teeth and rocking back and forth as she dug her hands into the earth.
Finally, she shoved her father away, tore off her clothes, and stretched herself upon the ground. Giovanni felt the sudden jolt and sigh as the earth opened up and swallowed her whole.
Before dawn, letters were sent and calls made. Though Deirdre had not yet reappeared, some of their clan had already arrived, emerging from the valley confused and angry. Deirdre and Ioan’s children converged on their parent’s home as the scent of their father’s blood travelled through the earth from which he had drawn his power.
Giovanni took refuge from his grief in the small stone room under the mountain. He pulled Beatrice with him, and the two retreated from the overwhelming sorrow of Ioan and Deirdre’s family. Carwyn was surrounded by his children’s children, both comforting and being comforted by his kin.
He held Beatrice for the rest of the night, and she lay with him, quietly stroking his hair the way she knew he loved, old wounds overtaken by the ache of new loss. He fell into his day rest next to her and when he woke she remained, staring at him with her deep brown eyes.
“There are so many vampires here.”
He nodded. “Deirdre and Ioan sired or fostered many children over the years. They would take in anyone that needed a home unless they were dangerous. All their children had children, and so forth. Their clan numbers in the hundreds, probably.”
Giovanni knew it had only begun. Soon, the trickle of friends and allies would become a flood as Ioan and Deirdre’s people returned to the quiet mountain their parents had called home.
“Why did they all come? I mean, what do vampires do when…”
“When Deirdre returns and the family is gathered, Carwyn will say a funeral mass.”
“I can’t-” Beatrice choked and wiped at her eyes. “How will he be able to do that?”
Giovanni took a deep breath and hugged her closer. “It’s the last thing he can do for his son.”
He could feel her tears wet on her cheeks as she lay her head on his arm.
“Tell me about him.”
He pulled her closer. She had been handling herself extremely well, considering how recently and dramatically her world had changed. For the past week and a half, she had been surrounded by humans and vampires she didn’t know, and he had left her alone for much of the time, consumed by the need to search for his friend.
“Ioan was kind. Intelligent. Wise,
“Since I don’t want to be a beverage during the vampire version of an Irish wake, I’ll keep that in mind.”
He tried to stifle a chuckle, but couldn’t.
“Sorry.” She closed her eyes in embarrassment. “Too crass?”
He shook his head and leaned over, brushing a soft kiss across her temple. “I was just thinking how Ioan would have laughed at that. Having married an Irishwoman, jokes about his adopted homeland were some of his favorites. No one loves a joke like a Welshman.”
“Will she survive?” she whispered. “Deirdre? How do you recover from something like that?”
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “You learn to deal with loss the longer you live. I have lost many people I cared for.”
“But not like him. Not even
He frowned, thinking about her words, and realized she was right.
“Yes,” he finally said. “It is difficult to think that someone so powerful could be cut down.”
“This is Lorenzo, isn’t it? He did this. Or someone he hired.”
He pushed back the useless well of guilt. “It has to be. First he attacked someone important to you, then the child he knew would pain Carwyn the most.”
“Is he-I don’t know the right term-herding us? We were spread out before and now Carwyn, you, and I are together. If he wanted to attack us-”
“He won’t be that direct, I don’t think. He’s not strong enough. He’s going after the people we care about to distract us and throw me off balance.”
“Should we warn Tenzin?”
He snorted. “Tenzin has four beings she cares for enough that Lorenzo might target them. Three are in this house, and the other is more protected than you could imagine. Don’t worry about Tenzin. Lorenzo should be the one worried. Tenzin was…fond of Ioan.”
He broke off, overwhelmed as grief ambushed him again. He gripped Beatrice against his chest, more afraid of loss than he had been in hundreds of years. If he could have allowed himself to weep, he would have at that moment. “I should call Caspar and check in, make sure everything is all right,” he said hoarsely.
“I called my grandma a few hours ago,” she said. “They’re fine. In the mountains and hidden. Ben isn’t causing any problems.”
He relaxed a little. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to do everything yourself, you know.”
He smiled ruefully. “I’m not used to asking for help.”
“Well…” She faltered a little before she continued in a quiet voice, “Get used to it.”
He wanted to see her eyes in that moment, when her heart was racing and her face was flushed, but she was turned away, so he simply kissed the top of her head.
“Beatrice-”
Suddenly the air churned with the scent of power, and Giovanni turned toward the flurry of activity in the hall. He leapt up and opened the door. Beatrice peered out from underneath his cautious arm.
“Deirdre, wait!” Carwyn shouted in the corridor.
The scent of blood and dirt hit his nose as he saw Deirdre stride toward them, carrying what was left of Ioan’s body wrapped in a dusty sheet. She walked down the narrow hall, still naked and covered with earth as she headed toward the chamber she had shared with her husband for over two hundred years.
She paused briefly and her eyes glanced over his shoulder where Beatrice stood behind him in the small stone room. The widow’s eyes searched his out, and he shuddered at the utter desolation.
So quiet even he could barely hear her, Deirdre breathed out, “Are you sure?” Then she turned the corner, and he heard a door slam shut. Soon afterward, Carwyn walked down the hall and Giovanni could hear him enter the room. Then the low keening wail started again, and he pressed the door closed.
Four days later, the majority of Ioan’s clan, his friends, and those who had known him had gathered on the small mountain. Carwyn and his daughter emerged the night after she brought Ioan’s body home, the priest carrying the small wooden box of earth that contained all that was left of the nine-hundred-year-old vampire he had sired.
The mood on the mountain was cautious and confused. Ioan had been known not only as a powerful and ancient earth vampire, but as a scholar and a humanitarian. The idea of any immortal targeting him was seen by most of his friends and allies as supremely wasteful and far from shrewd, considering his alliances.
The moon was almost full, and the night was crisp and clear when Carwyn returned the remains of his last blood relative to the earth. Giovanni stood silently, grieving as his friend spoke the ancient rite over his child, and all those gathered felt the surge of energy as the clan reached down and touched the mountain together as the earth he had loved became Ioan’s final resting place.
The following night, the clan of Ioan ap Carywn and Deirdre Mac Cuille gathered on the hilltop to grieve, as Carwyn and Giovanni met in the library of the main house with Deirdre and Beatrice to talk about what steps they needed to take. Deirdre had found Ioan’s beheaded remains on the bank of the Liffey River, dumped by whoever had killed him.
“Murphy still has his people looking in the city and the port, and my people are scouring the coast of Wales to
