the dark.
A vampire stared at her in disbelief.
“What the hell are you?” he asked.
Touching her neck, finding the worst wound healed over, her earlier fear melted away. Confusion remained, but there was also power flowing through her body. Inexplicable, incredible power that crackled from her skin.
Power that made her feel less afraid of him.
The vampire.
A goddamn vampire.
She lifted her chin in defiance. “I think I might be hard to kill.”
Rose spoke too soon.
She realized that milliseconds later as the blur of his body shot toward her and she felt his powerful hands grip hold of her nape.
The last thing she heard was the resounding crack of her neck breaking.
4
At first Fionn was dismayed when he encountered the vampire at the club. Watching the dark-haired bloodsucker as he moved through the crowds, Fionn had suspected right away that this man was the killer Bran had warned him about.
Vampires didn’t stalk humans. They socialized with them, drank from them only what they needed, leaving behind questionable wounds that only perpetuated human fascination with vampire mythology.
This vampire, however, was hunting.
Fionn, unfortunately, was too preoccupied with the bartender to deal with the vampire and his would-be victim. His psychic wasn’t at the club, which meant she probably knew he was and was staying away. Could the bartender be that important, then? Was she even the reason the psychic had been there in the first place, or was Fionn reaching?
Earlier that day, he’d broken into the club and logged onto the office computer. He’d found the employee records, which included helpful photographs of each of them.
He found Rose. The bartender.
Rose Kelly.
That was an Irish name if ever there was one, Fionn had mused. She was Irish American. Twenty-five years old and her résumé belonged to that of a vagabond. The girl had been wandering for the last three years. First Australia, then numerous cities around Europe. Why? What was she running from?
Retrieving her Social Security number, Fionn had sent the information to Bran. So far all they’d discovered was that Rose Kelly was the adopted daughter of Anna and Bill Kelly. They adopted her when she was a little over a year old. Anna and Bill lived in Maryland in the United States but were both originally from Cork in Ireland. Anna was an artist and Bill was a website developer. Rose had graduated from the University of Pennsylvania with a degree in marketing.
From there she’d become a nomad.
Why?
Bran was working on gathering more information while Fionn followed Rose. He’d become aware of the vampire’s presence, stalking Rose, as soon as she’d taken two steps away from the club.
At first Fionn was pissed he’d have to deal with the vampire for interfering in his business, but then he’d realized a vampire attack might give him some insight into Rose’s abilities, or lack thereof.
He’d watched from the rooftops as the vampire pulled Rose into the alleyway and tore into her neck. To Fionn’s surprise, he’d had to stop himself from getting involved. Watching Rose’s attack was unnerving. Disconcerting. A strange feeling of guilt pricked him for letting the vamp get within touching distance of her.
It made no sense.
Unless his instincts were telling him she was important.
That she did have something to do with the fae children after all.
Still, he held himself back and was glad for it as he watched her push off the vampire with unnatural strength.
“Bingo,” he murmured, leaning over the roof to see what would happen next.
It wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting.
After the vampire knocked Rose to the ground with a sickening thud of her head, Fionn was sure she was supernatural.
That kind of hit would’ve crushed a human’s skull.
When the golden light began to peel away from her body, anticipation curled in Fionn’s gut.
He knew what that light meant.
Someone had put a spell on Rose Kelly.
That light gathered into a ball above her chest and then exploded, throwing the vampire back against the wall and Rose to the ground. Her energy blasted out of her and rolled over Fionn in wave after glorious wave. With it came her scent.
Floral and earthy, like summer in Ireland, tinged with a heady sweetness like caramelized sugar.
The hair on his neck rose.
Fae.
She was goddamn fae.
He watched as she slowly stood to face the vampire.
Someone had put a blocking spell on Rose Kelly to suppress her fae powers.
Fionn needed Bran to find out who her birth parents were and how they knew she needed to be protected. Because that was the purpose for the spell.
A