2
Riley
For the entirethirty minute ride to the castle, Riley kept her nose pressed to the tour bus window. Ireland was so beautiful. From the architecture in the cities—an eclectic mix of old and new—to the lush green grasses and countrysides that seemed to go on forever, she couldn’t get enough.
Something inside her was drawn to this place, and with every mile, a tether seemed to pull tighter. Sheneededthis tour. This vacation. This last good thing.
The small bus turned onto a narrow country road full of potholes, and the bubbly tour guide picked up the microphone. “We’ll be there in just a few minutes, loves. Bonney Castle has been in the same family for more than two hundred years, and we’re very fortunate to be given access to its grounds and many of its rooms. But the owner still lives on the premises, so just a quick reminder not to go wandering off and opening any closed doors. If you get lost at any time, stop. Someone from the castle staff will find you and return you to the group.”
“Oh,” Riley breathed as the massive stone structure came into view. There had to be at least five storeys, with three tall spires that made her wonder if Rapunzel was waiting up there somewhere. The grounds were perfectly manicured—hedges trimmed into magnificent shapes, a beautiful lawn stretching out to the left, and a driveway made of flagstones in every shade of gray.
“Everyone follow me now,” the tour guide said. “And remember, if you have any questions, my name is Arwen.”
Riley lingered at the back of the group, needing as much of the fresh Irish country air as she could possibly take in. Unlike most of the rest of the group, she didn’t have a camera or take her phone out of her pocket. No…she wanted to make her memories the old fashioned way. What good would photos do her anyway?
“Back when this castle was built,” Arwen said, “it was shrouded in mystery. The owner, a man named Ó Curráin, was a recluse. He was rumored to have ten children, but no wife was ever seen, and some say he murdered her in her sleep after she delivered a female babe—the rest of his children were males…”
…
Arwen led the group through a dozen different rooms over two floors, pointing out the changes in architecture over the decades and some of the expensive—and original—paintings and sculptures lining the halls.
“Now follow me, and use the stair rail. These steps are quite steep,” she said as she headed into the basement. “The darkest part of Bonney Castle’s history occurred underground.
Riley trailed her hand over the rough stone walls as she descended. A chill settled deep in her core, and her skin started to crawl. Something about this place did not feel right, and she wished she’d stayed upstairs. But trapped in the center of the long line of tourists, she had no choice but to go with the flow.
“Angus Ó Curráin went mad towards the end of his life. In 1749, the local authorities came upon a woman not far from here. She was dressed in rags, rail thin, and bloody. Now, gather around, everyone. The basement is large enough for the whole group, and the cells are long gone.”
Several of her fellow tour participants laughed uncomfortably, but Riley shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as she felt a pull towards a closed door. Resting her back against a wall, she tried to shake off the feeling.
“When questioned, the woman said she’d been held captive in this very basement for more than two years. The castle’s steward only came out at night, and when he visited her, down in this dark room, she would fall asleep, and when she woke, her clothes would be stained with blood. Two of the local guarda came to the castle’s front gates and were never heard from again.”
Gasps rose from the group, and Arwen’s permanently plastered-on smile faded. “No soul would approach after that for more than seventy-five years. But when the grounds and walls started to look abandoned, a brave Guarda officer ventured inside. He found four cells in this room, no bigger than two meters on any side.” She pointed to each corner in turn. “Would ya’ like to know what was inside?”
“No,” Riley said quietly, but was quickly outvoted by three others.
“Skeletons!”
As the woman in front of her yelped, Riley flinched and turned away, finding the door next to her open, and a pair of black eyes staring back at her.
Arwen’s voice faded to a soft drone along the edges of Riley’s mind as she tried, desperately, to move, to take a single step away from the heat in that dark gaze.
A pale hand extended, a single finger curling, beckoning her through the door. One step. Two. Three. And then the darkness swallowed her.
* * *
Declan
Such a beautiful creature. Dark hair. Pale skin. He’d felt the pull of her the moment she’d descended the stairs, and he knew…this was the human he would feed from today.
Declan brushed a hand over her locks. She smelled like the sea after a storm, and her lips parted, as if she wanted to speak, but he’d glamoured her, stolen her mind away, and until he’d taken his fill, she belonged to him.
“Come,”he whispered, and she stepped closer. “I promise, you will remember nothing. And the pain…it will fade quickly.”
He didn’t know why he felt compelled to reassure her. He’d never done so before. Merely glamoured his prey, fed, and released them. With a gentle hand, he cupped her cheek, threaded fingers through her hair, and angled her head.
Her sweetest vein pulsed rapidly, and Declan’s fangs tingled as they descended, and his mouth watered. She would sate his hunger, and perhaps, for just a moment, he would feel…not so alone.
The woman whimpered softly as he pierced her skin, and he wrapped his arms around her, trying to offer comfort.“I will ease the pain, acushla.”As soon as he whispered to her mind, she relaxed into his embrace, and her blood flowed over his tongue, hot, rich, and unlike any he’d ever had before.
