A snarling noise came from her throat, and she latched onto Tywyll’s wrist, biting hard into the old man, who wrapped an arm around her back and smiled.
“There’s my girl,” he said, brushing the hair back from her forehead. “There’s my Annie girl.”
Murphy let out the breath he’d been holding, and his shoulders slumped.
She was back.
ANNE woke with a burn in her throat. She felt Murphy at her side, helping her to sit, holding a glass to her lips.
Ambrosia.
She gulped down the first glass, then the second. Fresh blood. Cool, but still pulsing with life.
Three glasses.
Four.
“Keep going,” he murmured, stroking her back. “There’s plenty more, love.”
Anne felt some spill over her lip. “Murphy?”
He kissed her chin, lapping up the spilled blood and kissing her stained mouth quickly before he pulled away.
“I’m here.”
She felt her fangs lengthen and ache. She wanted to bite. Wanted to suck. Wanted to sink her teeth into his neck. His chest.
Anne pulled him closer, throwing her leg over his.
Murphy chuckled. “Someone woke hungry. Take a break now. You can drink the rest at a slower pace.”
“Want you,” she rasped. “Need…”
“What do you need, love?”
“Bite.” A wave of her amnis spiked outward.
“Well, that hasn’t changed. Careful now,” he murmured. “Your influence is a lot stronger than it used to be.”
Murphy pulled her closer, letting his amnis meet hers. A wave of his desire and longing. He was as naked as she was. His body had been the one warming hers in the darkness. His arms had been her armor.
“Murphy?” Her voice came out high and needy. She pressed a hand to her belly. “Please.”
“Shhhh,” he murmured, drawing her head toward his neck. “I was worried. You were out for two nights, not one.”
She scraped her fangs along his neck, drawing a thick red line that made his back arch.
“Bite me now,” he commanded, pressing her mouth to his neck.
She bit, and the rich taste of his blood only stoked the fire growing in her. She pushed him back, sliding her body down his until she could feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against her.
“Yes,” he hissed. “Now. Take me.”
She slid down, hungry for him to fill her as she drank from his vein. Murphy wrapped strong arms around her and rocked, pressing a hand to the small of her back to control her movements, gripping her hip as she began to come.
Their loving went on for hours, but her hunger was not sated. Anne hungered for and feared his bite, still uncertain that her blood was clean.
“No,” she said, pressing him back when he kissed her throat.
“Anne—”
“Wait for me,” she begged him. “Make sure it’s safe. I couldn’t bear it if I hurt you, Patrick.” Her emotions ran wild, and the tears slipped down her face. “Please.”
He kissed her, sliding his tongue against hers in a luxurious caress.
“I’ll wait,” he said against her lips. “For you, I’d wait an eternity.”
Epilogue
Six months later
MURPHY STRODE THROUGH THE OFFICE, ignoring Angie, who was asking him to sign papers about… something.
Something far less interesting than what he held in his hands.
“Patrick, you have got to stop and—”
She almost ran into him when he came to a halt in the hallway. He spun and grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it before he lifted it high.
“This is fecking brilliant!”
Angie’s mouth dropped open, and he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. His smile was laughter and wickedness all at once.
“And we’re going to make a fortune.”
“Patrick, the Reedley papers. They’re ready for you to review before the final signatures.”
He waved a hand toward his office as his eyes went back to his new toy. “Fine. Just… set them on my desk and I’ll— Wait! No.” He did a small dance in the hallway. “E-mail them to me, Ang.” He held up the electronic tablet in his hand. “I have a PDF reader.”
“Oh,” she groaned. “You’re going to be as bad as the young people now. Christ help us if you get a mobile phone.”
“That’s next!”
Murphy kept walking. He had to show Anne.
He took the stairs two at a time down to street level and walked the few blocks to her office, glad that he’d had the foresight to buy the small building. It was close enough to easily secure, but far enough that her immortal clients still felt comfortable visiting.
Part of what he’d predicted had come to pass. Anne didn’t have as many immortal clients since she’d publicly taken her place as his consort. But there were still plenty of vampires who trusted her. Many who were not active in politics didn’t care if her offices were in Galway or Dublin. And her human patients cared even less.
He tucked the precious tablet under his arm and whistled as he walked down the sidewalk, glancing at the clock—a digital clock!—on the front of the screen to check the time. It was late, and he was hoping to catch her between clients. Or, if he was very lucky, she’d be done for the night and he could tempt her home.
He’d heard the good-natured teasing among his men, but he ignored it. Murphy wasn’t a regular at the club these days, though he made a point to come in every now and then to keep everyone on their toes.