FINN DE LA SALLE
Phoenix
Posts: 264
Age:
651
Occupation:
French Teacher/Mercenary
Status:
Widowed
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Apr 12, 2024 18:10:47 GMT
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Post by FINN DE LA SALLE on Sept 28, 2023 18:38:17 GMT
It would have been greedy, wouldn’t it? To have had both his son and his wife survive the blaze that had destroyed the cottage? Perhaps not so much after all the losses that had stacked up over the centuries, but Finn was sure that fate hadn’t smiled on him that kindly. Alec was alive and here. Bridget was gone. Her bones buried in the local cemetery by a father whose love hadn’t extended to either his son-in-law or his grandson. Rather than be a grandsire to the baby that had seemingly lost both his parents at once. It was the one good thing Geraint had done in his miserable life.
Not trusting the man, even centuries later, he had started to check all the same. It would likely mean that the tiny spark of hope in his chest, that was somehow holding on for now, would be snuffed out. If Fate had blessed Bridget in some way she would have found them. She hadn’t, that should’ve meant he was accepting his single miracle instead of spending every night for weeks digging through every database he could find online in search of some trace of his wife.
He’d stuffed the thin stack of print outs – the fruits of his search – into his bag as he’d left the school. The records of Alec’s crossing to America were in there, his adoptive parents’ names finally giving him what he’d needed to track that down. The burial records for Geraint too, although Finn doubted that there’d been much of the old man left. They could’ve swept him out like the cold embers from the fire for all that there had been after he’d played judge, jury and executioner. His fingertips had almost blurred the text on the print out of the marriage banns. Most at the time couldn’t do more than produce an X to identify themselves, but both he and Bridget had been literate. Two names scrawled in that worn ledger, Bridget’s reappearing just two pages later as her death was recorded in the same parish.
Not looking to spend another night on a fruitless search, Finn had headed for the square as he’d left work. There was a chance he wouldn’t find who else he was looking for either, but that search had more of a chance of being successful. He usually would’ve left the bag abandoned in the car as he walked into the Grill. This time he swung it over his shoulder again, feeling its burden shift on his back as he smiled at the hostess. ”I’ll sit up at the bar, thanks.” All the better to keep watch, although it looked as though he didn’t need it.
Iain McKeegan wasn’t a possible descendent of those he’d known at Broch Tuarach. They literally could have crossed paths at Culloden, or in the handful of years before. His name had been on the muster rolls, from there it hadn’t exactly been difficult to track the man back to an auspicious family. At some point soon after the battle (or during it, there had been plenty of bloodshed then, plenty of room for something to slip among the dead and dying to do what certainly wasn’t God’s work), he had apparently slipped into that same sort of eternal existence that he had been living in for centuries by then.
Finn caught sight of the man walking into the Grill behind him as he settled at the bar, dark eyes locking onto that shifting form in the mirror that backed the bar. He turned his head slowly as McKeegan sat, his lips pursing into a faint smile before he angled himself towards Iain. ”It hasn’t taken us centuries to run into each other again this time, at least,” Finn muttered. There were probably those in the bar that could pick up the low, rumbling voices, but those were usually the things unbothered by creatures that were just as old as them. ”Did you think there was something familiar the last time we … did this.” He flicked a finger back and forth between them, indicating their meeting over a glass.
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IAIN MCKEEGAN
Vampire
Posts: 36
Age:
305
Status:
Widowed
Played by:
Jodi
Sometimes silence is violent
Last seen Apr 8, 2024 21:02:51 GMT
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Post by IAIN MCKEEGAN on Oct 23, 2023 21:29:24 GMT
Iain was desperately trying to find that perfect balance between giving Rose enough space but not too much. Either way could result in her leaving town and Iain rushing off to try to find her again. It wasn’t like he had stacks of experience dealing with vampires who were overrun with emotions. His speciality was dead ex-wives and teaching young vampires to control their urges. He’d overstepped the mark with Rose before, but he was determined not to do it again even though the only thing he wanted to do was to hug her. It was difficult to restrain himself when she crumbled in front of him. They’d reach their final goal, she’d switched it all back on. In the meantime he was trying to entertain himself in Mystic Falls but the place drew nothing but boredom from it. For starters there was no sea nearby, so he couldn’t haul himself onto a boat to go fishing. There was the lake, but each time he went down there he’d find some annoying college kids drinking and listening to awful music. The numbers were decreasing as the winter months drew in though. The church provided some level of distraction but each time he went he was worried Krista would drag him over to one side demanding to know more about this forgotten boyfriend of hers. Iain really shouldn’t have involved himself in that, but of course he couldn't help himself. Rose was right, he was always looking for someone to help. Someone else to take under his wing because he was running out of options with Rose. She’d forced him to realise that isolating himself in Scotland was pretty damn lonely and he was actually craving some level of connection with someone. He’d found that with Rose, temporarily. Ten years later she’d decided she was done with Iain and cut him off completely. But now she was coming to him for help. She needed him. Some nights she’d crawl into his bed, seeking comfort, other nights she’d cry alone in her room. Iain picked up a menu as he entered the Grill, studying it intensely, his brain trying to comprehend how big their meals were. There was one salad dish available, but it was drenched in ranch sauce. Hardly healthy. Perhaps the town’s population was declining because of the vampires but because of the amount of calories they were putting into their body everyday. It was a one way ticket to a heart attack. He opted for a cider instead, knowing he’d be unable to stomach most of the meals on offer. He placed the menu back down on one of the tables and headed straight for the bar. He tried to drag Rose out the apartment early that day, suggesting they head out for a meal and maybe even go to the movies. A normal activity to deflect from an abnormal situation but she declined. She promised she’d text him if she needed anything, but so far nothing. “Afternoon love.. Can ah grab bottle o’ cider... Any flavour. Surprise me.” He casually hauled himself up onto the stool, no desire to crane his neck over the bar to try and see what flavours they had. He wasn’t there for the taste, more for the alcohol. His attention turned towards the man sitting two seats down. “Finn… Centuries? Nah couple o’ months” Iain had exchanged his name with very few people since arriving in Mystic Falls. “Ah thought ah recognised ye, aye... bit ah was mistaken.” Maybe? Iain hadn’t really cast much thought to Finn since they met due to his time being consumed by Rose. FINN DE LA SALLE
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FINN DE LA SALLE
Phoenix
Posts: 264
Age:
651
Occupation:
French Teacher/Mercenary
Status:
Widowed
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Apr 12, 2024 18:10:47 GMT
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Post by FINN DE LA SALLE on Nov 22, 2023 20:00:47 GMT
The first time he had died running had seemed like the only way to start over. Get as far away as possible and start again. He hadn’t considered changing his name, or even cutting his hair, because most people had never gone more than a few miles from their homes. Moving from one end of France to the other had almost guaranteed that not a single soul would see the young soldier he’d been. With the centuries moving on the world had shrunk in a way. The French soldier with the quaint, old manner had become too recognisable. Crossing the ocean had been easier – join another army, pick another name, hope that he got ten or fifteen years before something happened and he had to scurry away in the dead of night.
Finn supposed he could have lied to Bridget and her father – spun any of the hundred stories he had used before – but the man who had wanted to live in peace for a time had grown tired of the lies. Standing in the tiny kirk he had given Bridget his name and a few months later, she had given that name to his son. Geraint had known who he was when he’d decided to take his son from him. He had known he would fight, and that included for the sake of those he’d lost.
For a time afterwards he’d wondered what the tenants had thought had happened up at the big house? A fire that had killed the laird, but hadn’t burnt the house to the ground. Perhaps they’d blamed it on the English, it wasn’t as though they hadn’t rampaged across the highlands after the rebellion. Squash any faith the people had, starve them, rob them, and they were far less likely to think about fighting back again. Alec’s family had travelled to America to get away from it, many others had probably done the same – some with little choice in the matter.
Their names had floated back to him with flashes of memories as he’d read through the records. Very rarely it was their faces, more a kind gesture, or some thought of a brother or father who had gone with them to war. McKeegan’s had come back sharply though, as it did when he spotted the man walking towards him now. You could layer over those memories with a thousand others, but some things still shone through. They shone through the lie that tripped off the man’s tongue now too.
His snort of amusement was low enough that others at the bar probably hadn’t heard it, just like they likely wouldn’t have heard his purposeful use of centuries. ”Couple of months this time,” he adjusted. He could’ve pulled the pages from his pocket, spread them out on the bar as proof, it felt a little too on the nose for the moment though. Finn’s mouth curled up at the corners, the smile turned on the bartender who approached him. The other was still fetching Iain’s drink for him. He glanced at the bottle, shook his head and gestured to the beer taps on the bar. ”A beer, whatever’s good, thanks.”
Propping his arms on the edge of the bar, Finn waited until the beer was set down and they were alone again. His gaze cut to Iain then, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied the man. ”You weren’t mistaken.” He paused before he dropped his gaze back to his beer. ”I did a little digging. Looks like there were certainly McKeegans in the area where I settled and married. They turned up in the records. The priests might’ve been a little strict in kirk on Sundays, but they were also damn good record keepers. You never think about those dusty old books still being around, hmm? Births, marriages, deaths, all laid out there if you can read it.” And he’d done plenty of that. Unfortunately, the one other gift he’d been desperate for after he’d discovered Alec had lived hadn’t turned up in them.
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IAIN MCKEEGAN
Vampire
Posts: 36
Age:
305
Status:
Widowed
Played by:
Jodi
Sometimes silence is violent
Last seen Apr 8, 2024 21:02:51 GMT
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Post by IAIN MCKEEGAN on Dec 16, 2023 14:26:56 GMT
Iain had spent ten years with Rose and even after all that time she hadn’t managed to peel back every single layer of him. They were still some things he kept to himself, for example his ex-wives. Yes he considered Rose a friend, but he was constantly reminding himself she was a vampire without emotions. Any piece of information he leaked to her could be used against him and he wasn’t ready for that. He didn’t need her berating him for killing his first wife, telling him that he was just as bad as her. They both killed people they loved because they couldn’t control themselves. It was one of the reasons he stuck with Rose for so long. There was a version of himself he saw within her. But he was left wondering what would happen next for him and Rose. Mystic Falls held nothing for them. He still hadn’t figured out what had drawn Rose to the small town, but it must have been something. There was something or someone here for her. Now wasn’t the time to ask her. Iain ordered his cider, looking forward to seeing what sugary water that was about to present to him. There was no limit on that shit in America. It made his teeth ache as he pondered to himself when he would be making the journey back to Scotland. Hopefully not alone. He gave the bartender a small nod as they placed his drink down on the bar. His attention was pulled back to Finn. “Aye. Plenty of McKeegans in Scotland.” He took a small sip of his drink, trying to figure out what Finn was trying to insinuate. There were probably more than one Iain McKeegans within their records. It wasn’t exactly an uncommon name in Scotland. “A’m struggling tae follow what ye’r getting at. Please explain.” It wasn’t the first time he’d been accused of being something supernatural because no matter how hard he tried to cover his tracks something spilled through. FINN DE LA SALLE
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FINN DE LA SALLE
Phoenix
Posts: 264
Age:
651
Occupation:
French Teacher/Mercenary
Status:
Widowed
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Apr 12, 2024 18:10:47 GMT
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Post by FINN DE LA SALLE on Jan 2, 2024 20:04:29 GMT
As far as he’d been concerned, any ties he had with Scotland had died in the ashes of the cottage where Bridget and Alec had died. It had been a ghost of a man who had floated through the halls of the big house to exact his revenge on the man who was as guilty of killing the two of them as the English soldiers had been. His entire life could have been different if the threats had dried up in Geraint’s throat before they’d been spoken. The English would have come to scatter the highlanders all the same, but even if he’d still ended up in the Americas, under the threat of another war that wouldn’t have been his, he would have been with his wife and son. Finn supposed he could’ve tried to trace some of the crofters here in America when he’d first arrived back in the 18th century, the wound had been too raw though.
Would he have found McKeegan there somewhere? Like him, the man seemed canny when it came to putting his head down. Denying everything had probably worked to keep him alive this long, reinventing himself over and over as the years passed and he seemed to grow no older with them. It was necessary, but if the man was anything like him there’d have been a little grief every time a life was left behind.
”Here too now, I suppose,” Finn murmured. He could’ve said the same about his own name, plenty of French had travelled to the colonies too, especially during the war for Independence – taking any opportunity to deny the English a victory. Gadifer had never married, or had children of his own as far as he knew, but he would not have been the first to father children out of wedlock, especially with all the travelling he had done. ”I think I probably crossed paths with some then.” Almost certainly if the man’s face really was as familiar as it had seemed.
Playing coy had worked to disguise what he was a thousand times over the century, but was there much point to it when both parties were just dancing around the subject now? Finn kept one eye on the bartender as he snorted out a breath. ”I found your name in the parish records,” Finn muttered low, knowing even that wouldn’t be enough to avoid some things overhearing them in a place like this. He tapped his fingers on the sides of the glass. ”Now, there were plenty who would’ve passed their names down, father to son, but not in this case.” Iain wasn’t exactly an unusual name in Scotland, but it hadn’t just been the name that had rung bells for him.
Turning towards the man a little more squarely, Finn’s gaze raked over the face of a man who had felt familiar that first time. After a moment, he nodded, like he’d confirmed for himself that he hadn’t lost his mind. ”I thought I recognised you the last time we met. I wasn’t wrong. You were there in 1740s, as I was. Geraint – Lord Broch Tuarach – was my father-in-law. I got to know most of his tenants and those thereabouts before he sent me to battle the English. I don’t know whether you were with the forces, or at Culloden afterwards, but you were there then, were you not?” The man could still deny it, but his memory had not grown that bad with the centuries that had passed – if it had he never would have recognised Magnus, or even Penny and her nimble fingers. You held onto most, even if the sands of time obscured the details of the lives that brushed up against yours sometimes.
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IAIN MCKEEGAN
Vampire
Posts: 36
Age:
305
Status:
Widowed
Played by:
Jodi
Sometimes silence is violent
Last seen Apr 8, 2024 21:02:51 GMT
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Post by IAIN MCKEEGAN on Jan 13, 2024 23:08:36 GMT
Rose arrived in his hometown like a chaotic whirlwind, threatening to expose both of them. Iain had been living in harmony with the humans for years. There were no unexplained deaths or bodies found drained of blood, but then she arrived and changed all that. Iain’s first thought was to kill her, save himself a headache but he couldn’t bring himself to do it when he realised she was a new vampire. His decision had set him on this course, leading him to America and eventually Mystic Falls. Following Rose, trying to save her. Now the task had been completed, but it opened up the next can of worms. Rose was being crushed by her emotions and it was Iain’s job to keep her afloat, telling her everything would be okay. But now sitting next to him was another person who was threatening to expose him. Well, there was no threat but he was indicating he held knowledge on Iain. He didn’t need to retaliate though because this wasn’t his home. He didn’t have to save. Iain could go home, tell Rose to pack her bags and they’d leave. Never to be seen again. Or he could brush this all under the carpet, telling Finn he was mistaken. Perhaps he’d let slip too much of his upbringing to Finn the first time round, giving him the jigsaw pieces he needed to slot into place, all with help from the parish records. Iain’s death was recorded there alongside his dad’s. Same day, same year. Iain was preparing himself for a swift exit. He had no intention of getting into this type of conversation with Finn, but then he spoke again. He turned to face Finn, narrowing his eyes slowly as he did so. Even though the battle happened centuries ago it was impossible to erase those memories considering it was the final time he was a human. The memories were carved so deeply into his mind. Time had passed, yet Finn had not aged a single day. The first day they met there was something familiar about Finn, but Iain brushed it off. “Aye.” There was no point hiding behind lies, “Me ‘b’ mah father fought th’ English. We were both killed... well, ah died temporarily.” His dad remained dead. He hadn’t been given the magic healing potion like Iain had. “How come yer still alive then?” He was certain Finn didn’t lay amongst the dead when Iain woke up in transition. FINN DE LA SALLE
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FINN DE LA SALLE
Phoenix
Posts: 264
Age:
651
Occupation:
French Teacher/Mercenary
Status:
Widowed
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Apr 12, 2024 18:10:47 GMT
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Post by FINN DE LA SALLE on Feb 6, 2024 21:00:12 GMT
Geraint had spent months trying to turn what little he’d learned of his past against him. Leveraging scant facts and the sore spots he’d left too open, too obvious, against him to get his own way. You were a soldier once, would you leave your wife and child unprotected now? As though he wouldn’t have been better off staying, standing there on the doorstep with his sword to protect Bridget and Alec from just inches away. He’d refused, argued, caving only as that final bitter threat had spilled out of his mouth. Finn had known he couldn’t burn the old man to ashes while Bridget was still alive. Geraint was a mean old bastard, but he was her father and he knew what it was like to lose one.
He could almost taste the old man’s tactics on his tongue now and wished the fire in him could burn it out. Did he consider the whatever Iain was a threat to his life here? No. He hadn’t got that impression. Like with Magnus, Iain’s face was just one from his past coming back to haunt him now. Perhaps it would’ve been easier to let the man carry on here without saying a word, but Alec’s appearance here had him looking back to the past too fondly, despite all the ghosts that it held. There was still a faint chance he’d been wrong, but the moment Iain turned towards him, his eyes narrowing, Finn knew that he’d found one of those soft spots. It was true, the man was at least three hundred years old, possibly far older if he hadn’t been purely human when their paths had first crossed. Smiling didn’t come naturally to him, but he did it anyway, his lips curving faintly. It faded rapidly as Iain stabbed back with his own truth. ”Sorry for your loss,” he muttered, as though the battle had been only yesterday instead of almost three hundred years ago.
”I’d have asked the same for you, but there are only a handful of things I know could bring a man back like that,” Finn said lightly. Considering his father had died, there was a better than even chance that Iain hadn’t entirely come back to life when he’d crawled off of the field. What was in his glass probably wasn’t doing much more than wetting his throat either.
Letting out a long breath, he let the smile back in, just a crack of good humour in the granite lines of his face. A blink had the blaze kindling in his eyes, the fiery flash that showed a hint of what he was beneath the human exterior. ”I didn’t die on the field for the first time then,” Finn muttered. ”By then I’d died at least a dozen times. I’m a phoenix. The legends aren’t wrong about us. We rise from our ashes when we die. I guess the English weren’t expecting to face something like that. I take it you’re not the same?” He knew the man wasn’t. What he was couldn’t be sniffed out or sensed with a slow heartbeat like other things, but that still left plenty of possibilities that he’d already tried to winnow away, leaving only the near certainty that somehow Iain had been turned at Culloden.
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IAIN MCKEEGAN
Vampire
Posts: 36
Age:
305
Status:
Widowed
Played by:
Jodi
Sometimes silence is violent
Last seen Apr 8, 2024 21:02:51 GMT
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Post by IAIN MCKEEGAN on Mar 2, 2024 15:00:32 GMT
Keeping his identity hidden in Scotland was tough, but Iain worked damn hard to do so. Some of the locals knew his secret. They were happy so long as he didn’t hurt any of the humans. In exchange they left him alone. It was the perfect arrangement for him but then Rose came along. Forcing her way in his life, threatening his peaceful existence. It was difficult to mourn the loss of his dad after they both died. Iain had been catapulted into a world he never knew existed. He was fighting his own inner demon. Everyday he woke up wanting to kill someone. Slam his teeth into someone’s neck. “Cheers.” They knew the risk they were taking when they set out to war. Keeping his identity hidden in Scotland was tough, but Iain worked damn hard to do so. Some of the locals knew his secret. They were happy so long as he didn’t hurt any of the humans. In exchange they left him alone. It was the perfect arrangement for him but then Rose came along. Forcing her way in his life, threatening his peaceful existence. Now Finn was threatening his existence, but it was clear he wasn’t about to spill Iain’s secret to the world. Not without spilling his own. Sabrina thought her husband was going to be brought back from the dead feeling completely fine. They slip back into their normal human life, living under old age parted them. But Iain was cursed to live forever and Sabrina’s life was cut short thanks to Iain. “Some are better than others.” He muttered with a sad smile. He wasn’t wholly ungrateful though. Sabrina had given him a second chance at life and he spent everyday trying to prove to her he wasn’t wasting his chance, although she would argue he was after spending years stuck in the same tiny town in Scotland. There was a whole world out there to be seen, yet Iain barely travelled outside of Europe. Iain winged a brow at Finn’s swift display of what he was. All this time he’d believed these creatures were a myth but he wasn’t surprised. There was a time he’d laugh if someone told him there were people who lived purely off human blood. “Nah. ‘Ere wis me thinking phoenixs weren't real” His gaze darted away from Finn, observing their surroundings. He wasn’t stupid enough to announce himself so obviously. “I died that day bit ah wis brought back. One of the mair common species amongst us. Th’ type that can’t tolerate th’ sun.” One stroke of luck was that the witch stepped in quickly and gifted him with a daylight ring to apologise. “Dae ye know how come folk are so attracted tae this town?” He pulled his gaze away from Finn, looking at the people who surrounded them. It was clear the place drew in the supernaturals, but Iain couldn’t figure out why. The place was small with a low population. Not the type of place vampires would settle. FINN DE LA SALLE
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FINN DE LA SALLE
Phoenix
Posts: 264
Age:
651
Occupation:
French Teacher/Mercenary
Status:
Widowed
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Apr 12, 2024 18:10:47 GMT
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Post by FINN DE LA SALLE on Mar 16, 2024 17:55:32 GMT
Some seemed to shrug off their grief after a time. Feelings softened with the passing years, what had saddened turning to a mournful sort of happiness. Others, Finn suspected, himself included, just packed it away deeper down, what had torn them apart buried like the layers in some archaeological dig. Occasionally, like now, they were exposed, thin slices of a life that had been lived decades or centuries before. As though they were a raw nerve, they were still capable of driving pain through him with that exposure.
Finn felt those parts of his heart still held by Bridget, by Joan, by Gadifer, ache in response to his own words. It didn’t matter how many of those layers had built up over them, condolences for their loss still meant something. He was glad to offer his own to Iain, even if he no longer felt the loss of his father in the same way. They had both died fighting for their country and that added extra weight to the words. He had seen too many not come home after all. Finn nodded at his words, swallowing back the bitterness of his own losses under those circumstances.
Just as he had, Iain had walked from that battlefield, suddenly alone and undoubtedly changed by it in more than the most obvious way. Going back to his human life had been possible for Iain, but not for him. He couldn’t have sat in that croft without being driven insane by his loss. As though he could scorch his emotions, Finn had razed the big house and the man that had ruined his life to the ground. Perhaps word would have got back to those that lived in the countryside around but Finn doubted any of them would have thought phoenix or even dragon when they had heard of what had happened. Vampires or shapeshifters were a different matter, far harder to hide when your only way to survive was to drink blood from humans or turn into a wolf at a full moon.
Grunting at Iain’s observation, Finn offered the man a weak smile back. His own curse didn’t involve such horrors at least. ”Indeed,” he said lightly. ”I once saw what I was as a curse, but having seen how others have survived, I would not swap it.” Not for the thirst that plagued you for an eternity, or for a human life now. He glanced at the door as though he would find his son there. Once upon a time he had wished to die, to find those he had lost in whatever afterlife was to come, but now he could see that Alec was the reason fate had allowed him to live as long as he had. Now he and his son might have centuries to get to know one another. A gift Bridget had never been given.
Rapidly the light faded from Finn’s eyes, like a candle flame snuffed. He drew in a deep breath, reaching for his glass again. Finn swallowed a deep gulp, laughing as he set the glass down. ”You thought they were just imagined for entertainment?” To put on TV or sketched in the pages of a children’s book. The reality was a world away from that. As it was for Iain. His dark eyes narrowed as he studied the man. He had been right then, vampire. There must have been vampire blood in Iain’s body when the English had cut him down. ”Not as easy thing to be then, I imagine,” Finn muttered, his gaze dropping to Iain’s hands to find the ring he imagined he’d eventually been gifted with. Now he could imagine him scurrying from the field under dark, travelling in the shadows as he had himself.
Watching the man beside him as Iain glanced around, Finn made a low sound again. He had come to this town because there had been whispers of a war brewing. So far there had been no sign of it, but he’d remained regardless, snared in a web of old connections. Finding Parrish in the woods had revealed what might have drawn others here at least. ”You mean other than at least half the population being as we are?” Finn asked as he looked back. The smile he aimed at the man was grim. ”There’s talk of there being a beacon here. Some mystical lure, a power that attracts people of a certain kind. I’m not sure I believe it. Do you think it’s anything other than rumour or just coincidence?” He’d warned him enough times that he shouldn’t look that gift horse in the mouth. He had too much to lose here now to risk it.
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