Building From Ashes by Elizabeth Hunter Read Free Book Online

think?”
    “I’m not sure yet. The older I get, the stranger you seem.”
    He smirked. “Well, that’s not surprising. I am strange. What do you want from the bar?”
    “A whiskey, I guess.”
    “How about a beer?”
    “How about a whiskey?”
    He stood. “Guinness it is, then.”
    “Hey!” She called out, but he ignored her. The girl certainly had the same acid tongue that he remembered from her childhood. To tell the truth, he’d never known her well. Like most of Ioan and Deirdre’s humans, he kept his distance. Though they remained close with their human clan, he was more circumspect in his mortal connections. He supposed that, after a thousand years, it was easier to remain unattached.
    Still, there was always something about the girl that had amused him. He glanced over his shoulder as the barmen built their pints. Brigid stood slumped in her seat, the very picture of adolescent rebellion. She was smart. That had always interested him. And he loved that she threw Deirdre off balance. His redheaded daughter had always been the most stubborn in their family, taking after his oldest daughter Gemma more than anyone else. Carwyn had a feeling that Brigid and Gemma would get on just fine.
    He grabbed their drinks, walked back to the table, and slid in across from her. She looked up with a droll expression. “Thanks ever so much for the whiskey.”
    Carwyn grinned. “You’re very welcome. How’s life?”
    She shrugged. “Busy. Classes. Friends. Lots going on.”
    “Who’s the boyfriend?”
    “Just a lad I met out with friends.”
    “Is it serious? Going to take him home to meet…” He caught himself before he said ‘mum and dad.’ Carwyn cleared his throat and smiled at the cool eyebrow she raised in his direction. “Take him home to meet your aunt?”
    “Sinead? Probably not. I’m not that serious about him.”
    “So why waste your time?”
    She just blinked at him, and for the first time since he’d seen her, Carwyn caught the vulnerability in her eyes. In that moment, he remembered the small girl at the mercy of a monster, and his heart softened. “None of my business, Brigid,” he said in a softer voice. “He seems like a nice enough boy.”
    The hard shell fell over her face again. “He’s fine. He doesn’t interfere with school.”
    He grinned. “Well, that’s good. So, you’re going to be in the Garda , are you?”
    She shrugged. “Maybe Irish police. Maybe something international. Always wanted to travel.”
    “You have?” From what he’d remembered Ioan telling him, the girl had trouble leaving the house to attend the village school.
    She curled her lip. “Yeah. I have.”
    “Well, good luck.”
    “Thanks. Are we done talking now?”
    He pointed to her pint. “Drink up. It won’t bite.”
    “Unlike some things at the table.”
    He laughed. “Well, that’s true, I suppose.”
    Brigid rolled her eyes again, and Carwyn wondered if there was some sort of human medical procedure to keep her from repeating the annoying gesture.
    “So—”
    “You really don’t have to do this.”
    “What?”
    “Check up on me for them. I’m fine, Father.”
    For some inexplicable reason, Brigid calling him “Father” annoyed him. Perhaps because she said it with such clear disdain. He lowered his glass and leaned across the table. “Look here, Brigid Connor. Get rid of the attitude.” He reached out and wrapped a hand around her tiny wrist, but softened it when he felt the flinch. He rubbed one thumb over her knuckles. “You and I both know that I could make you tell me anything I wanted if I used my amnis. I’m trying to be pleasant. I’m trying to do a favor for Ioan and Deirdre and your Aunt Sinead, who I happen to like more than most humans. So why don’t you—?”
    He broke off when the door opened and a gust of wind blew in. The cool air slid into the room and slipped over Brigid’s neck, drifting to his keen nose. His eyes narrowed, and his grip on her wrist tightened