Broken Heart 09 Only Lycans Need Apply by Michele Bardsley Page A

nickels.
    “What did she see?” asked Grandfather. His voice was rough, but in a comfortable way, like leather worn soft by time.
    “Everything. I’m sorry, my old friend. Even if I had gotten here in time . . .” The man spoke in a way that reminded me of music. Now I recognized that it was an Irish accent.
    “You couldn’t have saved Regina. I know that. She could not receive your gifts. And she would not have wanted them.”
    “Moira is the last,” said the man, “and the only one left who can unlock what her ancestors’ blood bound all those years ago.”
    “It seems a terrible burden for a child. She will not have an easy path, Ruadan. How can you expect her to keep such a promise when she cannot know what she is?”
    “You know the Vedere pyschics are rarely wrong.” He paused. “‘When only one remains, then she shall restore to the vampires those who have been lost to time.’”
    “I know the prophecy, damn it. It’s been the burden carried by Camille’s family for three millennia. Damn it, Ruadan. I’ve lost my wife. My daughter,” said Grandfather. “Please. I don’t want to lose my granddaughter, too.”
    “Her fate belongs to her, and to her alone.”
    “Please, Ruadan.”
    The man named Ruadan sighed. “Glamour is not a permanent solution. Time can unravel even the tightest of memory knots, especially among parakind.”
    “Maybe if we hadn’t hidden the truth from our daughter . . . maybe she would have . . .” My grandfather trailed off. “I’ll do a better job of protecting Moira. I’ll train her, Ruadan. I’ll help her as much as I can, and when the time arrives, she will no doubt fulfill what the Fates have in store for her. But until then, I want her to be as normal as possible. You can give us that at least.”
    Silence filled the room, and my heart beat so loud I could hear it drumming in my ears. What was wrong with me? What was fate . . . and why did I have to have it?
    “Very well, Ezra,” said Ruadan. “I will do as you ask.”
    •   •   •
    The memory snapped shut, and I jerked back, as though it had somehow tried to bite me.
    What the hell was that all about?
    Had being in the same building where my mother had been killed somehow unlocked a memory from my childhood?
    I really did not want any more treats from that part of my life.
    And all the wailing wasn’t exactly helping my frame of mind, either. Hel-
lo
. Crazy woman here. No one wanted to set me off.
    “Didn’t you say we needed to get out of here?” I called out to Karn. He’d migrated toward the middle of the room, while his friends had gone left and right. They were shadows moving beyond the green glow of the light.
    The wails ebbed and flowed like an ocean of pain. I wasn’t even sure that Karn had heard my desperate query. I much preferred being carted out of the building by vampires than seeing Mom’s ghostly form. Or remembering one sliver more about my five-year-old self.
    Close your eyes!
    The command came from inside my head, and it wasn’t exactly choice-driven. I closed my eyes only because my eyelids insisted on it.
    The shrieks ceased.
    I heard Mr. English Vampire say, “What the fuck is—”
    I heard a pop . . . boom . . . and then felt a quick flash of intense heat.
    The vampires screeched.
    I heard Karn yell, “No! Damn you!”
    The silence stretched on and on. Finally, I said, “Dove?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Are your eyes closed?”
    “Hell, yes.”
    “Well, do you want to open them?”
    “Sure. Because I like the idea of burning out my corneas.”
    “The light bomb only lasts for a few seconds, but it does the job,” said a male voice with a German accent. “And
ja
, it is okay for you to open your eyes.”
    Dove and I both screamed. I had to admit, she was better at it. I opened my eyes, ready to . . . well, scream some more.
    A man stood in the space between Dove and me, and he filled it out nicely, too. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and