Duncan had never wanted her more. He winked at her and settled in his seat, chewing the stolen gum, enjoying her taste. His hopes for their full mating while in Ireland lifted once more.

Chapter Twelve

He heard the vampire walking outside, then the front door slowly opened.

"Come in," Ronan called out. "Rose isn't here at the moment, but I'll be sure to let her know ye stopped by."

His lips curled into a smirk when he heard Seamus' heart skip a beat, felt the tiny sliver of fear that coursed through the vamp.

He knew Seamus well. They'd been like brothers long ago. Before the fecker betrayed him.

The front door slammed into the wall, the look on Seamus' face livid. He stepped inside, his eyes boring holes into Ronan. "What have you done with her? She's mine!"

Ronan stood up from the couch in unhurried movements, stretching like a languorous cat just up from his nap.

"You entered her home without her permission," Seamus roared, his fists clenched tight by his sides.

Ronan gave the living room a casual, sweeping gaze, then met Seamus' furious stare. "I no longer follow the rules. Following the rules got me a lifetime sentence." He paused, his gaze narrowing. "But then ye already knew that," he finished in a lethal tone.

Seamus seethed where he stood, the veins in his thick neck bulging in his anger. "You should've stayed in Ireland, buried away."

Ronan's knuckles popped as he curled his hands into bunched fists by his side. "Even if ye weren't the threat Rose called me forth to protect her from, I'd relish taking ye out on me own, Seamus. I've waited a long time to stand in front of ye, contemplated the many ways I'm going to make you suffer, a chara."

"My name is James now," he said as he lunged toward him, roaring his rage, his claws extended.

Ronan sidestepped Seamus' hands and shoved the vamp against a side wall with a mental push.

"I've had a long time to perfect me mental skills, a couple centuries to be exact, but then, who's counting. I'll relish every moment in taking me revenge."

Seamus pushed off the wall and jumped over Ronan's head as he approached. Landing on his feet, Seamus turned around to face Ronan at the same time he shifted to a lion, roaring his anger.

Your curse will be your downfall. Your first priority is Rose. Everything else comes second, Seamus hissed in Ronan's mind.

Ronan spread his arms wide, glancing around the room. "Do you see Rose anywhere?" He let his hard gaze land on the lion's eyes. Like the ring of a sword being drawn from its sheath, he laid down his deadly vow. "There's just the two of us here, James. I'll call ye by yer Americanized name since this foreign soil is where ye'll take yer last breath. I plan to kill ye with me bare hands, to rip out that heart that beats in fear in yer chest. Before it's all said and done, only one of us will live."

His threat hung heavy in the air, a blanket of assured death drifting between them. The undercurrents in the room took on a life all their own. Ronan felt the vengeful energy building between them as they circled each other. Their measured breathing punctuated their steps as they each waited for a chance to strike.

James roared and took a swipe at Ronan with his huge lion's paw.

Ronan moved at the last second, avoiding his claws. "What's the matter? Afraid to face me as a man?" he sneered, goading James further.

"The better man stands before you," James bit out as he shifted back to his human form.

Ronan took advantage of James' arrogant pride and rammed his shoulder in the other man's gut, knocking him across the table to land on the kitchen floor. Before James could recover, Ronan leapt over the table and landed on the vamp's chest. Hard.

James' grunt of pain accompanied the whoosh of air that escaped the vamp's lungs. James shoved at Ronan's feet digging into his chest. His swift action sent Ronan flying back into the living room.

Ronan curled his body in the air, landing on the floor in crouched position. Hunched over, squatting on the balls of his feet, he jerked his enraged face back to James He started to stand when a sharp piercing pain slammed into his chest, spreading in agonizing splinters through his body.

Ronan looked down to see a knife buried in his chest. It had missed his heart by a mere inch. He ground his teeth at the pain as he pulled the knife from his body. Blood gushed from the hole the knife left behind. He laid his hand over his wound, concentrating on heat. While he worked to repair his body, he glanced up in time to see another blade hurling his way. James' evil laughter followed in its wake.

"You said to fight you as a man. The human form is the most devious and deadly of all."

Ronan caught the blade between his palms, then swiftly flipped the knife in his hand, grasping the handle. "I know this truth better than anyone," he grated out at the same time he gathered his mental powers.

All five knives from the butcher block on the kitchen counter flew out and turned. The blades slammed into James' back, tearing into muscle, bone and sinew, one right after the other.

The man shrieked in pain, then twisted to try and remove the knives manually since Ronan's mental powers negated his own. While he used his stronger mental powers to shove the knives deeper into James' flesh, Ronan flipped the blade in his hand once more, preparing to aim right for James' stomach. Dying of a stomach injury was one of the most painful ways to go. He'd make sure the vamp couldn't heal himself.

Holding the knife aloft, he paused for a second. Defeating James was going a lot faster than he'd anticipated. He wanted the bastard to suffer, to pay.

But James was right about one thing. Ronan's duty was to Rose first. James was a very real threat to her. Alive.

Ronan lowered the weapon, conflicting desires swirling in his mind. He wanted to live a little longer, to breathe air, to wallow in a good hard fuck with a willing woman. He didn't know what forces determined when Rose was no longer threatened and would therefore send him back to the earth, but with her absent at the moment, James could live.

For now.

While he debated, a sharp pain sliced through Ronan's hand, causing him to drop the knife and hiss in pain.

Ronan looked down to see a short metal bolt embedded in his palm. He jerked his gaze to a beautiful dark-haired woman lowering her crossbow pistol at the same time she raised an automatic gun toward him.

"I think Duncan would prefer to take James out himself," she said with a smirk.

Ronan disregarded the pain radiating from his hand as he pulled the bolt all the way through his hand. He started to leap toward her, ready to battle when he heard a distinct click of two more weapons behind him.

"Try it and you're a dead vamp." A man's voice came from behind him.

Ronan glanced toward the voice. The man looked like the one he'd fought...the vamp who'd converted Rose.

Rage welled within him. His entire body tensed as muscles flexed. He prepared to pounce, ready to kill.

The man stood in the bedroom doorway, his gun trained on Ronan's back. An older woman walked out from behind the vamp holding a gun on him and said, "Hello, Ronan."

Ronan stared at the woman, unsure why she seemed so familiar.

"It's Tressa Shannon." She provided the answer to his unspoken question.

At the same time James repeated her name in a surprised, yet pained voice, Ronan felt Tressa's presence in his mind, peeling away the layers he'd built, working her way past his defenses.

Self-preservation kicked in. Without a thought, he turned, using his mental powers to knock the dark-haired woman who'd shot him back against the door, opening an exit for himself.

The male vamp roared his fury and gunshots sounded, preceded by white-hot pain riddling his back. Ronan stumbled at the onslaught, falling to his knees. James took advantage of the distraction, converting to a raven. The knives buried in his back clattered to the floor as he flew out the open door.

Ronan started to shift too when he heard Tressa's commanding voice in his head.

Sleep, Ronan.

Blackness consumed him, but he fought it hard. He'd sleep when he took his last breath.

Sleep, her voice softened, sounding so peaceful and benevolent. He lost the battle, succumbing to her mental powers.

Awaken, Ronan.

Ronan smelled her violet scent permeating his senses even before he opened his eyes. He lay on his back on a sofa or bed, somewhere soft, while she leaned over him. He could feel the heat of her breath on his cheek. His back ached like a motherfucker, but he refused to moan at the pain.

Instead, with lightning speed he grasped her neck and opened his eyes to narrow his gaze on Tressa.

Cold metal pressed against his temple at the same time someone grabbed his neck in a death grip. Two men growled at once, "Release her. Now!"

Tressa laid her hand over Ronan's on her neck. Her gaze danced between the older vamp and the younger one who stood on either side of the couch. Each one held a menacing expression on his face.

"Ian, put your gun away," she said to the one he'd fought before. "Let go, Marcus," she addressed the older, dark-haired man. "He won't hurt me."

When the metal withdrew and the hand around his neck moved away, Ronan ground out, "Don't count on it."

Tressa's calm gaze met his once more. "Do you want a chance at a life, Ronan?"

Her comment captured his attention. He let go of her neck and sat up. Glancing down at the blanket covering his naked form, he curled his lip in amusement. "Ye vamps ashamed of the body ye're born with?"

"We prefer not to see yours," the man named Ian snapped.

Ronan glanced at him, narrowing his gaze. The man's hair was shorter than the man Ronan had fought. He sniffed the air, taking in his scent now that he was closer. He smelled different, too. This man's reaction to Ronan's attack on the dark-haired woman spoke volumes. Ronan smelled their commingled scents.

"Ye're his twin," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Duncan and Ian are my sons." Tressa glanced back at the dark-haired woman who'd shot Ronan in the hand. She stood behind Tressa, her gun still trained on him. "And this is Jax, Ian's mate."

Tressa met the older man's gaze who stood behind the couch. His arms were crossed over his chest and protective anger emanated from him as Ronan flicked his gaze to the man. "The man behind you is Marcus, my Anima."

"Ye mean yer Sonuachar?" He provided the Irish word for soulmate.

At her nod, Ronan sniffed the air around Tressa's mate and gave a derisive snort. "He's from another vampire race. I can't place his scent."

"Indeed he is," Tressa said. "But this conversation is about you, not us."

Ronan stared at her, waiting to hear what she had to say.

"We're aware of James' treachery and how you were betrayed."

Ronan shrugged as if her comment didn't matter one way or the other to him.

"We want to offer you a chance to redeem yourself in The Morrigan's eyes. Join with Ian and Duncan to defeat James. Maybe then the Goddess will forgive you and lift the curse."

He gritted his teeth, rage rushing through him at her suggestion. "She owes me an apology. I refuse to ask forgiveness."

Ronan stood, heedless of the blanket that fell to the floor. He noted the muscle that ticced in Ian's jaw at his refusal to mentally clothe himself. Ronan gave him a ruthless smile.

"I answer to no one but meself."

"Let's put him out of his misery." Ian cocked his gun and aimed it at him once more.

"Can't you see he's intentionally goading you?" Tressa said to Ian.

"James will die," Ronan promised. He eyed the guns trained on him while he gauged his speed of converting with Ian's trigger finger.

A rush of adrenaline shot through him as he bent his knees and bolted straight up to the ceiling. The three bullets that were embedded in his body fell to the carpet with soft thuds as he converted to a fine mist and floated straight into the venting system.

"Shit," Ian hissed. "How'd he shift to mist as wounded as he was?"

Ronan wanted to laugh at the anger radiating through the vamp. Instead he mentally spoke to all in the room, finishing his vow. Duncan will die, too. Rose is mine to protect.

"Screw the benefit of the doubt. He's a dead vamp."

Tressa met her son's furious gaze. "There's a darkness within him that's raging a battle with the good side. I think the dark side is what helped him overcome his Atruan vampire limitations." She sighed.

"He's unstable. We can't trust him."

"He's been horribly wronged and cursed. That had to have twisted him somewhat. Ronan's been given an offer. Let's hope his good side overcomes his bad one and he decides to join us instead of fight us."

"You're more forgiving than me."

Tressa met Ian's gaze. "I've been inside his head."

Once they arrived in Shannon, Rose called and got directions to Lonan's Pub in Galway City. While Duncan took care of renting a car, Nigel asked the questions she knew were burning in his head.

"Now I know why you wanted to go alone on your trip. If I had known you knew the popular singer, I'd have asked you to negotiate a second night at the Pavilion on my behalf with him."

Rose chuckled, knowing the utter chaos going on in Duncan's life. "I just met Duncan a few days ago, Nigel. I don't think I'd have had much pull with him."

Nigel's brows furrowed. "You just met him and he's going to Ireland with you?"

"He invited himself." Rose watched Duncan signing the paperwork. The man had nice hands, short clipped fingernails and broad palms. Those sexy callused fingers sent shivers down her spine.

"You could've uninvited him." Nigel gave her a knowing smile.

As Duncan approached them, Rose answered in a whisper, "True, but he can speak and read Irish so at least while we're touring he could read the Irish on the historical placards to me."