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We descended the stairs together. I cleared my throat to break the silence. “Returning to the Cure...” I started.

“What about it?” she asked.

“I wonder if the O’Cillian family home might hold any clues? After all, the Cure is a descendant of Rauri O’Cillian.”

She clenched her jaw as we returned to the parlor. Rory took her previous seat on the sofa, and I sat in the leather chair next to it. I glanced at the maps on the coffee table, noting I would need to put them away soon.

Rory leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “It isn’t like we can just waltz in there.”

“What if I told you I could get us into the O’Cillian manor?” I asked, my gaze darting around the room. I didn’t want her to figure out my relationship, but it was the next logical step.

“You can what?” Rory asked, her eyes popping open.

I nodded, focusing on the arm of the chair. “I know someone who could gain us entry to Dún Na Farraige.”

Rory chuckled, disbelief coloring her tone. “Dún Na Farraige?”

I nodded, looking up at her. “The O’Cillian family manor in Ireland.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Do you think we’d find something there?”

“Find something where?” Lyra asked, her voice laced with skepticism as she entered the room, placing her hands on her hips.

I gestured toward a seat opposite from me for her to join us. “I was just discussing with Rory the possibility of going to Ireland to see if we can uncover anything at the O’Cillian family home.”

Lyra sat in the pink upholstered chair that matched the sofa. She sat back and tilted her head. “The O’Cillians? You want us to go there?” Lyra’s tone was sharp, her words cutting like a blade, but it was nothing I hadn’t dealt with before.

“I understand what your coven believes about them, but I also know they aren’t the monsters they’ve been made out to be.”

“And how would you know this?” Lyra’s words were like daggers, each one aimed to wound.

“I know because I’ve dealt with them,” I replied, my voice steady.

Rory pressed her lips together. “What do you think about them?”

“The story of Kieran and Aine O’Cillian is a love story. That the O’Cillians were a family for so long is revered in the vampire community.” I sat back in the chair, the ease with which I answered questions for Rory about my family startling me.

“Because monsters can love?” Lyra scoffed, disbelief in her voice.

Rory clenched her jaw. “Lyra, you can choose to listen or not, but if you decide not to, you don’t have to stay.”

Lyra narrowed her eyes and shot a look at her cousin, but she didn’t speak, which I took as a sign to continue.

“I’m sure you’re aware of the legend of the Dearg Dur?” I asked.

Lyra nodded. “Of course we are. She’s the woman who turned into a vampire to appease her husband, who wanted someone beautiful.”

I was about to correct her when Rory spoke up. “It had nothing to do with vanity, Lyra. The Dearg Dur cheated death solely for revenge. She was in a horrible marriage, and her true love never came to save her. She chose to die rather than stay with her husband. But she came back and killed both him and her father. She’s terrorized Waterford ever since.”

I smiled at Rory. “Correct. Most don’t know that the Dearg Dur turned Kieran O’Cillian.”

“What?” Rory’s eyes widened in shock. “Why would she do that? I didn’t know she had ever turned anyone.”

I shook my head, the story weighing on my heart. “I don’t know how many vampires she’s made, but Kieran was the first.”

“Still, why?” Rory asked, her voice full of confusion.

“It recently came to light,” I said, “that Kieran’s older brother was her husband. He knew what his brother was doing to her and did nothing to stop it. After she killed her husband, she felt it was only right that Kieran should suffer the same fate as her. The problem was that Kieran was already married and deeply in love with his wife. It was his wife’s blood that sealed his fate as a vampire when he drank it after dying with the Dearg Dur’s blood in his system.”