"She could have killed me," he said. "But she didn't. We talked and she explained that she, too, looked for the vampire I sought because he was evil. She called him the ancient one and said no one knew his real name but all other vampires knew he was the oldest vampire still alive. She'd heard rumors that he'd killed Fenella."

She lifted one brow. "And then she slept with you, I suppose."

His hands traveled to her hair, where he plunged his fingers into the long mass. "Believe it or not, she didn't want my blood, even thought she wanted my body. But when we made love, I begged her to make me a vampire. I told her that all my travels amounted to nothing if I couldn't hunt down the ancient one. And how would I do that if my life gave out?"

As jealousy did a spiral through her again, she pushed the useless emotion aside. To give herself some distance, she gently extracted from his arms. "She was your sire."

"Yes."

"How old were you?"

"Thirty-two."

"That's how old you are now." She spoke knowing the truth and not expecting him to confirm.

"Thirty-two I'll remain forever, unless someone or something takes my immortality from me."

As her body quavered with a combination of dread and sadness that he could be taken from her, she realized his story wasn't concluded.

"When I found my mother and my brother in Limerick again they rejected me. They were horrified."

"I can only imagine how that must have felt." Clarissa had to know more. "What was it like to become a vampire?"

"Darker and more horrible than anything I'd experienced. It's not something I'd wish on anyone."

"Tell me."

He shook his head, adamant. "Another time, if at all."

Seeing she would no longer press the issue, he pulled his gaze from hers and looked at the floor. "I've traveled around the world again, this time to many exotic corners of the world until I heard that he might be in the New World."

"America?"

"Yes. I traveled to the Colonies and met Sorley."

"How old is the brat anyway?"

He chuckled. "Three hundred years."

He paced the room, a restless marauder with an agonizing story to finish. "What happened during the Revolution?"

"I made friends with another woman, this one in her late fifties. She was a vampire hunter who'd been turned into the undead four hundred years before. Her name was Anna and she was originally from England. She explained that she needed someone to take up where she'd left off. She said the ancient one was coming for her and she didn't believe she possessed the strength to fight him any more."

Clarissa feared what he'd say next, yet she must know. "What happened?"

"I told her we could fight him together. Over the years I'd learned a lot about warfare with other vampires." He stuffed one hand through the thick fall of his hair, then stopped pacing. He turned back to her with gloom making new shadows in his eyes. "I was a fool."

She stood and walked toward him. When she stopped close, he gazed down at her with the eyes of the condemned. "You could never be a fool, Ronan Kieran."

"I could. And I was." The determined, hard line of his mouth said he wouldn't take any argument. "We traveled together for a short while until the war broke out. She settled in Maryland."

She frowned. "You couldn't fight as a soldier, right? You would have to be out in the sunlight."

"You've got that right. I had to keep my whereabouts incognito so there was no pressure for me to enlist. I ran into Sorley one night. He was being plagued by a soldier in an alley and Sorley's patience with mortals was very thin at the time. I kept Sorley from killing the man."

She put one hand to her mouth. "I thought Sorley was a good vampire, like you."

His smile touched sardonic, then slid to warm. "Sorley and I have done things we're not proud of...long ago when we were first turned immortal. From that point forward Sorley and I were friends. He decided that learning to save mortals was more gratifying than taking their blood."

She almost couldn't make herself ask. "How do you maintain your...your blood habit?"

"Right now it's through a special supplier who gets blood for me whenever I start to run low. It's kept in a freezer until I'm ready for it. Once a day is all I need." His gaze searched hers, as if uncertain she could envision him drinking blood and accept his presence. "Does that repulse you?"

She expected to feel revulsion but whatever it took to keep this man alive was all right with her.

With a flash of insight Clarissa knew that she could no longer deny what she felt down in her deepest heart. She might have known him a short time, but he'd managed to wend his way into her mind and soul so overwhelmingly she couldn't bear not to see him, touch him, and be with him. All the apprehension she'd suffered when first learning of his vampire state faded into nonexistence.

"Nothing about you could ever repulse me, Ronan."

He tugged her closer, his body rock hard against her softness, and his masculine scent building a craving inside her. His gaze told her one thing.

He wanted her now.

"There's only one way we can defeat him. There's only one way I can get revenge for Fenella and everyone else whose life has been destroyed by the beast. Make love with me, Clarissa."

Chapter Thirteen

Make love with me, Clarissa.

His words whispered again, this time in her mind.

Not fuck me or take me.

Make love with me.

She thought them the most beautiful words to part his lips.

Clarissa saw Ronan's need written across his haunted eyes, a desire to take her to new heights and make an imprint on her haunted soul. A big part of him had stolen into her and would never leave, and if she didn't love him now, she would regret it with everything inside her.

"What will happen if we...?" Her words faded, then she gathered courage again. "If we make love, did Yusuf or the seer say exactly what would happen to us?"

"No."

Plain. Stark. Ronan's gaze captured and held hers in that strange golden light.