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“My brothers are like me, but not my parents.” He sighed, his gaze dropping before he looked back at me. “That is a story for another day. Let me show you upstairs to your room.”

Why? Why was everything a story for another day? When would he give me a straightforward answer?

Mac opened the back door to the house. We entered a modern kitchen, the white walls reflecting the sunlight. Off to the left was the dining room, and ahead of us was a foyer. I saw a set of stairs to my right and moved toward them.

Mac’s voice rang out. “Rory, over here. I don’t think you will find the servant’s stairs suitable. You wouldn’t fare well on those crutches.” He smiled, his eyes sparkling as he fought a chuckle at my expense.

Mac held my bag in front of him as I traversed a paneled hallway leading to a grand foyer. The light-blue walls of the room opened to the ornate plaster ceiling on the home’s roof, and a single crystal chandelier hung from the rose in the center. The stairs wrapped around the masterpiece before opening into catwalks overlooking the space where I stood. “This is gorgeous. It reminds me of home.”

“Maybe I’ll get to see that during our work together,” he said before changing the subject when he saw the slight scowl on my face. “The balls we used to have here were immense, and families came from miles around. Before the war, it was always something to do, and my mother was a fabulous hostess. She wanted everyone to feel at home. Now, we only bring people in to keep the home from crumbling. It’s a shame.”

I grasped both of my crutches with my right hand and clutched the railing of the stairs with my left so I could hop to the top of them.

“Do you want me to carry you?” asked Mac with indisputable seriousness.

The thought of laying in Mac’s arms again caused a tingling sensation between my legs—a feeling I needed to ignore. My words were soft. “No, thank you.”

He walked up the stairs beside me, guarding me should I stumble and fall. I could hear the smile in his voice although I trained my eyes on the top of the steps. “If you think this home is gorgeous, you should see our manor in Ireland. It’s one of those grand old houses you would expect of royalty.”

“Is that where you’re from, or did you just live there long enough to pick up the accent?” Maybe I could get an answer to something concrete about his family.

“I was born there. I haven’t been back for a while, though. Your room is down here.”

We walked toward the back of the house. As we reached the hallway, Mac pointed at the door on the right. “This is my room.” He opened the door on the left. “And this is yours. I hope it’s suitable.”

Light from the oversized windows flooded the sky-blue room. To my right, between the windows, stood a fireplace with a dark marble mantel. In front of it was a tea table with two comfortable-looking chairs. A chaise occupied the window nook to the left of the fireplace. A dresser and vanity stood on the wall in front of me, and the four-poster bed was to my left.

“The bathroom is through the door on the left. The windows by the fireplace overlook the river. I love that about these rooms.” His gaze grabbed mine, and he smiled before placing my bag on the bench at the end of the bed. He removed the lineage fromthe side flap. “I think I’ll take this downstairs if that’s okay with you?”

I gave him a sardonic smile. Did he forget that with my blood on it, I could find it whenever I wanted? “You’re going to take it whether it’s okay with me or not. So why do you say it that way?”

“You’re right, I am.” He took a step closer to me, the book in his hand between us. I could feel his body’s energy close to mine, his saltwater scent washing over me. He dropped his voice low. “But only so I know we’re working together.” He stepped back, the air rushing into the gulf between us. “I’ll leave you to get settled. I’m going outside.”

Mac closed the door behind him, leaving me in the room. I walked to the window beside the fireplace and pulled back the cream-colored lace curtain. Leaning against the marble, I stared at the river through the window. I needed to call Jade. And more than anything, I needed to figure out how to get out of here.

I grabbed a few supplies from my bag and lit a sprig of sage before limping around the room, muttering the incantations to cleanse and seal the space. It was a different spell from the woods, but then again, I was in a different place, with physical walls around me. I placed the still-burning herb on the vanity to stop my voice from traveling beyond the walls. Anxiously, I grabbed my phone from my bag and hobbled to the chaise. My fingers trembled as they hit the buttons to call Jade. I needed my best friend.

“Hello?” The word was quick and sharp as she answered.

“Hi,” I said, my voice small.

“Thank goodness it’s you,” she said with a breath. “Where have you been? Do you know how worried we are? Mom started getting these crazy, blood-splattered dreams. She even made Dad pack a bag.”

I raised my eyebrows. I should have known the coven would see something was off. Better not to mince words. “I’m sitting in a vampire’s house right now.”

“You’re what?” Jade screeched the question.

In my mind’s eye, I could see her eyes popping out of their sockets. I recounted the tale of my ill-fated trip into the caverns, complete with my fall, twisted ankle, and Mac saving me, but I left out the dream for now.

“Did you find anything?”

I sighed. “A lineage stolen from the coven.”

“A what?”

Movement out of the window caught my eye. I pulled back the sheer. Mac was crossing through the gardens, naked from the waist up. The sun reflected off his sculpted muscles, his impossible porcelain skin contrasting with the black athletic pants slung low, not doing much to conceal his equally sculpted ass. I caught my breath with a pang in my heart.

“Rory, are you alright?” Jade’s voice came through the phone. “He isn’t there, is he?”