Lorcan

T he waves hadn’t died down, but at least the ferry was doing its best to avoid them.

That turned a six-hour crossing into a seven or even eight-hour crossing.

But I was getting back to Aberdeen, back to finding her.

People stumbled as the ship pitched under the relentless assault of the waves, the scent of salt heavy from the sea spray flung against the windows and doors.

Zadie sat beside me after grumbling, not understanding why we couldn’t wait until morning when the storm should end and fly back. I reminded her we would be stuck for another day if the storm didn’t clear up.

I touched Zadie’s arm to wake her. “Come on, we’re about to dock, and I want to be the first one out of here.”

She rolled her shoulders back and stretched her neck before she narrowed her eyes at me. “Alright, Mr. Pushy. Doing your Cormac impression?”

“Don’t worry. We all got the gene,” I mumbled under my breath.

She snorted. “Yeah, well,” she said, standing and gathering the bags she had taken off the plane. “You know you’re not going anywhere without me, right?”

“There was a reason I refused to leave you on Kirkwall, yeah?” I shook my head. “Besides, I don’t think my brother would allow it anyway. Let’s go.”

She smirked at me before making her way to the aisle. I was sure that under it all, Zadie understood why I had to find Briar as quickly as possible. A jolt rattled through my bones as the boat lurched, a dull thud echoing through the hull as it made contact with the dock.

“Shit.” I muttered the word under my breath, and I dug my fingers through my hair.

The car alarms started again, grinding on my nerves.

Would these people ever learn to turn the damn things off?

We stood in line at the stairs in the middle of the ferry, waiting to disembark.

If I wanted to—if it wouldn’t be so conspicuous—I would go to the viewing deck and just jump over the side.

Zadie and I could both hit the dock easily and continue on our way.

But the last thing we needed was to draw attention to ourselves.

Finally, we emerged onto dry land after what seemed like forever shuffling along with a pack of smelly humans. As we reached the end of the pier, Conall was waiting with a car behind him and the trunk open. He motioned with his head.

“Come on, let’s go. Zadie, you’re in the front.”

She threw her bags into the trunk, closing it quickly, and trotted to the front.

I slid into the back seat with Conall. Joshua sat behind the wheel. Conall’s door wasn’t even closed before the car started moving.

“What’s the hurry?” I asked.

Conall drew his lips into a tight line, his fingers tightening against his thigh. “I missed her yesterday. I’m sorry. I thought I glimpsed her, but I’ve never met her, so… I couldn’t stop her when she got off the ferry.”

My fingers tightened into a fist beside me. I looked out the window. “Tell me something good,” I mumbled.

Conall exhaled. “We’ve gotten ahead of her.

I got the license plate of the car she got in.

Patricia was quick to realize it was headed to the airport—something about hacking into some servers and then being able to access live feeds, because we knew where to find her.

We know where she is.” He inhaled deeply, as though considering his words.

“She took an afternoon flight to Dublin, and from there, she took a bus to Waterford.”

I raised my eyebrows. “To Waterford?”

Conall nodded. “That’s where we’re headed.”

A strange weight settled in my gut. I hadn’t seen Dún Na Farraige in over a hundred years. Was it even the same place?

Zadie’s voice came from the front, pulling me back to the matter at hand. “Conall, it will take me time to file a flight plan and get us over to Cork.”

From where I was sitting, I caught the smile on Joshua’s face.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said. “You’ve shown me enough times how to file the flight plans that I did it for you. Everything’s ready to go as soon as we get to the jet. We’ll be at the manor by one o’clock at the latest.”

Zadie’s head snapped toward him. Although she raised her brows, there was the barest hint of amusement in her eyes.

I glanced at the speedometer in front of Joshua, watching as the needle inched over 100 miles per hour. I studied Conall’s face, how he gripped his leg, his jaw and shoulders tense, his face drawn and gray.

Joshua focused on the road, weaving around the other cars with little care for getting caught. Something was off. They were much too tense. “There’s something else you’re not telling me,” I said. “What exactly is going on, Conall?”

He chewed the inside of his cheek. “I also spoke to Cormac last night.”

“Why is that a problem?”

“They’ve found the Cure,” he said. “They’ve spoken to him but haven’t let him in on his significance. Rory is still trying to get the man to trust her, but he’s pretty unassuming from what they said.”

I turned my hand up and shrugged, my eyebrows rising. “And again, the problem is?” My pulse rose as I started to lose my patience.

Conall pulled in a slow breath. “The problem isn’t the Cure or Cormac.

” He paused, hesitating. If he didn’t say it soon, I’d break his neck just for the fun of watching him come back to life in pain.

“The problem is what Declan had to say.” He faced me, his eyes wide, and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Lorcan, we’re going to get there. We’re going to get there as fast as we can. ”

I jerked my shoulder, causing his hand to fall. My voice lowered, threat growling through it. “Get where, Conall? What is going on?”

“Declan heard from Aiden.”

The name sent a bolt of ice through me. But it still didn’t add up. I still didn’t understand. What was the fucking problem?

“Brother…” Conall hesitated, then said, “Aiden is at Dún Na Farraige.”

The air in my lungs turned to stone as my nails dug into my palms. Aiden. At Dún Na Farraige. My stomach twisted in a way that made me want to vomit.

By itself, that wasn’t the problem.

We all knew the real problem. Briar going to Waterford meant she was headed directly into his path.

She had no idea what she was walking into. And Aiden? He would be waiting.

My breath caught. I reached forward and closed the soundproof barrier between where we sat and the vampires in front. “You’ll have to leave me before you go, brother. Leave me in Aberdeen and I’ll make my way back to London. I… I can’t.”

He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “Don’t be ridiculous. What happened?”

I bit my lip. Could I confess my fall to the brother I abandoned and left to fend for himself? How many ways had I failed my family? Myself? And now, the darkness in me was complete. “I killed for her.” My words barely made it out of my throat.

“What?”

“Yesterday. The man I compelled to get me back to Mainland. The words he said. The way he described her—threatened to take her. It was like Ashdowne had with Isobel, and I couldn’t control myself—the hunger, the anger.

” I studied my hands, refusing to look in his direction.

“I let it consume me, turn me into something dark.”

Laughter exploded from his chest. “Lorcan, you'd rather drive a stake through your own heart before you forced any woman, let alone Briar, unwillingly to her knees. You may enjoy exercising a bit more control over your women than some, but you killed to protect, not dominate.”

I stole a glance at him, his eyes wide with concern.

“Is that what this is really about?” He laid his hand on my forearm. “Do you fear you’re her dark mate?”

I looked out the window, the words stuck in my chest. After a time, I looked back at him. “Ashdowne was born of my blood, and Briar was born of Isobel’s. How could I not fear we are bound by something twisted?”

Conall’s expression turned serious. “It is only once in a thousand years that a pair of dark mates are born, let alone that they find each other. Dark mates don’t want love, Lorcan. They want obedience. Slaves, not partners. Control, not communion.”

I shook my head, my desire to see Briar fall apart at my hands, thoughts of her tears of elation mixed with the edges of pain causing a twinge in my cock. “You don’t understand.”

He chuckled. “Do you think I haven’t figured out your proclivities in the eight hundred years we lived closely?

” His tone was warm but matter-of-fact. “You enjoy the edge, yes. You crave intensity—dominance even—but never cruelty. Never pain without purpose. You want her gasping in your arms, not because she’s frightened, but because she trusts you enough to let go. ”

“Then why do I want her blood so much it aches?”

“Because you’re starving yourself. And you love her. Stop fighting what the rest of us already know—you’re not her dark mate. You’re fated for her. You can’t run from it.”

I swallowed hard, and something shifted inside as his words took root. The road blurred past outside the window as the car sped toward the airport.

Toward her.