"Well, so much for not repeating my Sunday weirdness," I tell Billy with an embarrassed laugh, pushing myself off his chest to sit up straight.

He'd picked me up and carried me to the four-wheel drive while I cried in his arms like a lost toddler. I'm not sure how long I've been sitting here with my head on his chest, sobbing while he stroked my hair. I feel like I've just cried out a lifetime's worth of heartache.

My lace handkerchief has long since stopped being of any use, and I'm on the last tissue in the stash Billy found in the glove compartment. It was like a dam wall broke in my heart, my emotions spilling like a flood, almost drowning me... and Billy. I'm no longer entirely sure what exactly I'm crying about.

He doesn't say anything; he just smiles at me, smoothing down my messed-up hair and tucking a curl behind my ear. It's strange, but I don't feel all that embarrassed about losing it so spectacularly in his presence.

"I'm so sorry, Billy," I hiccup after blowing my nose for the 100th time. "I honestly don't know what happened or why I'm like this."

"Naw, don't ye be worrying about that, lass," he smiles, wiping a stray tear off my cheek with the heel of his palm. "Perhaps ye are a sensitive."

"I'm a little sensitive sometimes but not that sensitive," I grimace. "I can usually keep a handle on my emotions. I feel many things, but I keep it to myself."

"I meant a sensitive, like Saoirse."

"I'm not clairvoyant," I chuckle, pulling a face.

"Neither is she, but she sees things and feels things."

Yes, he's right; I've seen her have conversations with invisible people. I've never done that in my entire life. I don't think it is something you just suddenly start doing one day out of the blue... at least, I hope not.

"I'm not sure I fall in that category."

"Ye saw Ambrose last night..." Billy points out, and he does have a point... maybe.

"I think I was drunk," I sigh, fussing with the tissue between my fingers, not liking the idea that I might start seeing people who are invisible to others or feel emotions that don't belong to me.

Besides, what happened at the well was very different from what happened last night. I didn't see a ghost. I was looking at Billy, but I was also looking at an adorably cheeky redheaded teenager with a mischievous grin and sparkling blue eyes.

"That was you, wasn't it?" I swallow against another wave of tears threatening to burst from me in answer to the ache stirred up when I think about that face. "The boy I just saw at the well."

When he doesn't answer, I look up at him, startled to see his stricken expression.

"Ye saw a boy at the well?"

"Yes... and no," I shrug, not sure how to describe it without confusing him. "Just for a second, but I was looking at you. It was as if you were suddenly a boy of about 12, telling someone named Mwur that you loved her... it broke my heart."

For a moment, Billy just stares at me, his eyes crawling with shadows. He tries to speak a few times but stops himself, struggling to form a sentence. I have clearly hit a raw nerve and wish I could take back my words.

"Aye," he finally mutters, shoving his door open wider and sliding out of the vehicle. I wish I could just pluck out my tongue. I'm doing it again. I've, once again, dug a hole in someone's pain. Billy is the last person on this planet that I wish to hurt. I hurry to scramble out of the vehicle to stand beside him, not sure of my welcome anymore.

He is leaning against the side of the four-wheel drive, his eyes sightlessly staring out over the beautiful view around us while his chest heaves with laboured breaths. I know I'm the reason he is upset right now, and I have no idea how to fix it. Uncertainty curling in my stomach, I reach out to lay a hand on his bicep.

"I'm s-"

"I'd just turned 13 when I carved our initials in that old well," he suddenly tells me, and to my relief, he doesn't shake off my hand. "Billy Doyle and Muireann Sullivan. We'd been neighbours all our lives, and she..."

He closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath and raises his hand to find mine. He takes it from his upper arm to tangle his fingers with mine, seeking comfort and courage to tell the rest of his story.

There's something startlingly beautiful about seeing a man as rugged and tough as Billy so open and vulnerable. It draws me to him in an all-new way as my heart opens to let him in. Suddenly, I'm washed away by a flood of compassion and a strong longing to protect him.

"Mwur-in..." I whisper, repeating the name, and Billy's eyes fly open, gazing into mine with an intensity igniting a slow fire in my core. The blue of his irises are thin bands around his wide black pupils, giving his eyes an almost lost look. "You love her."

Present tense. I can feel that love like a shimmering cloud glowing around him.

"So feckin' much," he breathes, swallowing back the emotions I can see building on his face. He finally clears his throat, breaking eye contact to turn his head and look out over the scenery again. I truly regret bringing him out here. For some reason, he is in too much pain right now.

"A few days after I carved our initials in that well and told her I loved her..." He stops, drawing a shuddering breath, and for a moment, I think he's not going to go on with his story, but then he clenches his teeth, pushing through his pain. "Their house burned to the ground, killing everybody in it."

I am unable to think, to speak, to breathe in the aftermath of that devastating news. Instead, I slip my hand from Billy's and wrap my arms around his, pressing my forehead into his bicep, feeling the powerful muscles flex in my grasp.

I can feel Billy's pain as if it were my own, and it makes no sense to me. I would never have described myself as an empath, but since coming to this island, I find myself more and more frequently feeling other people's emotions.

Ransford...

Perhaps Billy is right. Perhaps I am sensitive to emotions trapped in places filled with sorrow, like the ruins of what had once been the home of the girl he loved.

"I'm so sorry, Billy," I murmur thickly when I finally find my voice. Lifting my head, I let go of his arm to lay the palm of my hand against his cheek, running my fingers over his stubble and down his neck in what I hope is a comforting gesture.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you relive all that," I tell him while he just silently stares at me with his darkened eyes. "I'm so sorry you lost the people you loved. I'm so sorry... you lost... her. I'm so so-"

I gasp in surprise when he suddenly turns to face me properly and pulls me into his arms. For a moment, he holds me close, crushing me against his chest, and then he eases me away from him.

His fingers run up the side of my neck to weave themselves in my hair, sending silver bubbles coursing through my nervous system along their route while he pulls me onto my toes with his other hand. A delicious hum awakens in my heart and spreads through my body when he bends towards me and captures my mouth with his air-cooled lips.

For a second, I'm too awestruck and exhilarated to respond, but the enticing softness of his lips soon coaxes mine apart, inviting him to deepen the kiss.

There's no sign of the gentle sweetness from when he'd kissed me on Sunday. This time, Billy kisses all emotional pain into oblivion. His lips pour his heart out to me as surely as if he is speaking actual words. They sear mine with a passion that leaves me breathless and helpless in its wake. It thrills and terrifies me.

All my senses are flooded with him; the beautiful scenery fades to a blur, and the last of my tears dry on my cheeks. All I feel, all I taste, all I breathe is Billy Doyle. I'm startled by the knowledge that I could happily lose myself in this man, made of sun, life, and fresh air. I could live for all eternity in the spell he weaves around me.

I could love this man forever with all my heart.

As I float away on a wave of warmth and vibrant life, reality flows into what could be, what might be and what should be. Billy's hair is soft and thick between the fingers of my one hand, and his short beard rasps under the fingertips of the other as I run them over his jaw, loving the texture against my skin.

How is it possible for me to feel so in tune, so attached and close to a man I've barely had any interactions with? Little more than a week ago, I didn't even know he existed. Last week, he was just the man who picked me up at the harbour and drove me to the mansion, telling me horrifying stories about lost children.

I liked him right away, but not this much. Yet, it feels as if I've known him all my life. Part of me wonders if I'm somehow channelling Muireann, the girl he'd loved and lost. Was it her eyes I was looking through when I saw the cheeky boy grinning at me with bravado and enough attitude to set the field on fire?

Fire!

Their house burned down, flames consuming the roof, the beams and anything that could burn. My heart is aching for Billy and his lost love, and I reach through his palpable pain, longing to find his soul and embrace it with mine. I could love him back to a joy-filled world if he lets me. I could love him with all my heart and drive away all his pain. I could love...

Alaric!

For one breathtaking moment, it is Alaric's lips burning on mine with an overwhelming urgency. I see his eyes, dark and threatening, glaring into mine as clearly as if he were standing before me. It is his thick black hair like silk in my hand, and it is his hands gently tracing the contours of my neck, his chest pressed tightly against mine. I taste him, I smell him, I hear his voice.

Sleep now, my love.

My heart contracts sharply with an almost overwhelming longing for the stern man with the beguiling eyes and slow smile. Overcome by anguish too intense to bear, I jerk away from Billy, whimpering as scorching pain slices through my brain, tearing right into my soul and ripping me apart.

"I'm sorry, Aubrey," Billy says in a barely recognisable, broken voice, patting my back while I bend over, gasping for breath. "I shouldn't have done that. I know ye belong to Alaric, and he belongs to ye. It's... I just... I'm sorry, Luv."

The pain slowly ebbs away until I'm finally able to straighten up, open my eyes and look at Billy's concerned face. Seeing him, as always, calms my agitation. It soothes the heartache into a dull murmur. I think I'm losing my mind.

What was that about?!

"What do you mean?" I ask when his words finally register with me. "I don't... we're not... I barely know the man!"

"Aubrey," Billy sighs, running a hand over my hair. "He was pretty much standin' right here between us just now, and he was ragin'."

"He was?" He was. Billy is right. It was as if Alaric were here for a second, and he was angry.

No... he wasn't. He was hurt. Why?

"You're right," I finally admit, laying the palms of my hands against his chest where his heart is still beating fast, enhanced by the stormy quality of his eyes. "How did he do that... and why? He lectured me on romantic dalliances within his household; he didn't say anything about romance with fiery vampire hunters."

Despite his distress, Billy chuckles, pushing his hand through his hair and looking at the action, my fingers itch to tangle in those thick red curls again. The yearning is not purely physical, either. I know it makes no sense since I barely know him, but I think I'm in love with Billy Doyle.

"The bond," Billy says, giving me a narrow-eyed look, gauging my reaction. "Ye're bound to Alaric. I know it's the best thing right now, but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it. Knowin' it's the best thing for ye doesn't mean I like it."

"What are you talking about?!" I exclaim, my heart fluttering anxiously, trapped within the cage of my ribs. Something is stirring in my brain, like a bucket of paint slowly mixing into a muddy grey. I need to separate the colours and see them clearly to understand what is happening, but I cannot. Everything is murky and confusing; a thick layer of mist settles in my mind, and I feel overwhelmingly sleepy again.

"Aubrey, luv, ye need to remember the important things," Billy says, looking almost desperate. "If ye do not remember, I cannot protect ye properly, lass. We cannot keep ye from wanderin' into danger."

His fingertips are butterflies running over my cheeks in a feather-light caress, and his eyes are filled with heaven and eternity. I don't know much about love. I don't have any experience to draw on, but I could easily imagine that this man is in love with me too.

Why would he be?

I want to be loved by him, but I know he is right. I belong to Alaric. I don't know how or why; I just know I do. As much as I believe I am in love with Billy, I also know that I want to belong to Alaric. I can feel him dragging at my heart.

The important thing is that it will drive you insane. It will be like being pulled in many directions at the same time.

Alaric said that to me. I don't know when, and I don't know what he was talking about, but I can hear his voice clearly in my memory. It is true. I feel like I'm being pulled in many directions, torn apart by emotions that are too strong to handle and too confusing to understand. As much as I yearn to be in Billy's arms, I also long for Alaric, Ransford, Deag, and others whose names I don't even know... Rach...

Who?!

Gasping, I pull away from Billy, burying my face in my hands. I try to grab hold of memories, dreams, and fantasies, but they all merge, mingle, and blend into one wobbly, tangled mass in my brain. I can feel myself slipping into madness. My heart, mind, and bloodstream seem to be filled with too many people all fighting for control.

Someone bound you to all of us, and that is not good. The bond can only be completed with one of us, and it needs to be completed for you to be truly safe.

"Billy," I croak, terrified by the words spoken in Alaric's voice, holding no clear meaning for me. When did he say that? Why did he say that? I willingly melt into Billy when he folds his arms around me again.

"It's alright, Luv, just breathe," he whispers, stroking my back while I gulp for air. For a while, he just holds me tightly, and I inhale his fresh aroma, drawing strength from the power of his embrace; my breathing finally eases out, and my heartbeat calms down.

"Aubrey," Billy says, pushing me away to cup my face in his hands, his blue eyes earnestly burning into mine. "Ye can forget everythin'. Ye can forget today and this conversation. Ye can forget that kiss that blew me mind. Ye can forget all of it. Just remember one thing and never let yerself forget this. Bury it in yer heart and know it, always. No matter what happens, I'll be here. I'm here. Ye'll always be safe with me. Promise me that ye'll at least remember that and come to me when ye need help."

"I promise," I whisper, placing my hands over his, surprised to feel him tremble slightly. "What is wrong with me?"

"I don't know, lass," he sighs, looking miserable. "I don't understand all of it. All I know is that someone did ye a great wrong, and I swear, if I get me hands on them, I'll rip them apart."

As scary as they are, his words make me smile, and his sincere concern warms my heart.

"I promise I'll remember, Billy," I assure him. "It's one thing I've been sure of from day one. I know it makes no sense, and I'm probably a gullible fool, but I trust you with all my heart."

"Ah, that's grand, luv," Billy grins, taking my hands in his and squeezing them. He brings them to his lips to kiss my fingers, and I catch my breath when a shiver runs down my spine, my heart racing as I look into his intense eyes. "I'm fierce glad to hear that, lass."

I'm relieved when he grins at me in that refreshingly normal, cocky way he always does. The pain has all but drained from his eyes now, and they're back to being bright blue, warm and welcoming.

"Now, I'm feckin' hungry!" he declares. "Are we goin' to have lunch, or do ye want to stay here like a couple of soggy hens a while longer?"

"Let's go," I laugh, and Billy helps me back into the vehicle, slides into the driver's seat and turns on the engine. While the four-wheel drive bounces over the rough terrain, I turn to look out the back window. My heart clenches as I gaze at the group of benign trees hiding the ruins. I don't want to look too closely because if Billy is right and I am suddenly a 'sensitive' as he called me, I might see people there who died more than a decade ago.

I really don't want to see people who are no longer alive.

We drive back to town in silence, only discovering we're holding hands when Billy needs to change gears and realises his fingers are tangled with mine. We both laugh awkwardly, and I extract my hand from his to fold it into my other hand, safely in my lap.

"Are we drawn to each other because Alazne and some woman with silver and gold hair did a ritual with me and made me drink some blood from all of you?" I ask, suddenly remembering a half-forgotten dream or vision I'd told Liam about.

I need to see a doctor. My memory has been terrible lately, and I no longer know what's real, what is dreamt and what is imagined.

It is driving me out of my mind.

"What?" Billy asks, glancing at me, his brows knitted in a confused frown.

"It was probably a dream," I tell him, wishing I didn't bring it up.

"I don't know, Luv," Billy sighs. "Liam told me that ye somehow ended up bound to all the Slatherty men. I'm not a Slatherty man, but me family has been bound to theirs for centuries, so it's not impossible that yer bond with them could cascade through to me. I doubt it, though. Me family's bond with them is not the same thing. Besides, what I feel for ye is very real and has nothing to do with the Slatherties' and all their issues."

"What you feel for me?" I ask, my heart skipping several beats as I look at Billy's strong profile, seeing a muscle jump in his cheek as he clenches his teeth.

"Sure look," he shrugs, and I can see that he is no longer willing to talk about it. He is resigned to whatever is going on, but as he said, he is not happy about it. That much is clear.

I need to talk to Liam.

He promised to answer all my questions. I think he would know more about it than Billy, and I'm much more in control of my hormones when I'm with him. It's probably because he is such a calm, kind soul. I could also try to get more information from Diarmuid. That should be safe. I'm not affected by Alaric's assistant at all for some inexplicable reason.

Billy steers the vehicle off the main road once we're almost at the library, and I gaze in wonder at all the pretty houses and gardens passing by my window as he drives along winding streets. Slaughtaverty is a truly picturesque town filled with atmosphere. Driving here in the large, modern four-wheel drive vehicle feels obscene. We should be in a horse-drawn cart.

The houses thin out as we leave the bulk of the town behind us, travelling along a country road bordered by low stone walls, keeping green fields from spilling into our way. Around a long bend, Billy leaves the road to turn onto a narrow driveway, leading through a large section of natural forest to end in a lush garden surrounding a cottage straight out of a fairy tale.

I catch my breath in awe as my eyes run over the two-storey, grey stone building. Its walls are covered in flowering creepers, and it has a green wood and glass-paned door set off from a couple of steps.

"Oh, Billy!" I exclaim when he parks the car near the front door and slips out to run around and help me from where I'm sitting, stunned by the view. "This house is so... so... so... old!"

I follow him to the front door, running my fingers over rough grey stones and luscious leaves, joy sparking giggles from my lips. "This place is ancient."

"I'm not sure if yer complimentin' me or insultin' me," Billy chuckles, and I draw a sharp breath, shaking my head.

"Believe me, coming from me, that is a compliment. This place is awesome!" I assure him. "It's as though I've stepped out of my dreams and just... It's amazing. You've managed to maintain it so well; it's like I'm transported back a hundred years or more to a simpler time. It's beautiful."

"Cheers, luv," he grins, pleased to see my enthusiasm sparkling in my eyes. "The interior is a wee bit more modern, though. I sure as hell didn't want to live a hundred years ago. I like playin' console games and watchin' rugby."

Laughing, I step over the threshold when he holds the door open for me.

"I understand," I assure him. Walking into the body of the house, I am pleasantly surprised by how neat and tasteful the interior is. He is right; it is much more modern inside, but he'd kept the beams and most of the walls in their original form. Old and new blend in perfect harmony.

"Billy, this place is amazing," I tell him, walking into the living area set off from the foyer, admiring his manly furniture, tempered by breezy paintings and delicate curtains in front of the windows. "I am so jealous right now!′ I laugh.

"Oh!" I exclaim, startled when I come face to face with a display containing armour from the 1600s, swords, halberds and maces. I give him an amused look, raising an eyebrow. The collection doesn't look quite at home in the room.

"Boys will be boys, I suppose," I chuckle.

"Need those for the festivals," he grins, shrugging, and now it makes sense since Billy doesn't appear to be a collector of any kind of antiques.

Moira told me that twice a year, the people of Peace Haven dress up in costumes and have a feast in the big park circled by the main road. Their festivals involve strange outfits, questionable shenanigans, lots of food and good craic - her words.

"Oh! Of course! Liam said you're a Knight of Slaughtaverty," I say, nodding. "I didn't realise he meant for the festivals. These are actual antiques, though!"

Trust the people of this island to use precious items like these to play around with. Touching the edge of one of the swords, I'm surprised to discover that It is extremely sharp. Exactly how questionable are those shenanigans?

"Well, I love your home, Billy," I tell him, turning away from the display I find increasingly disturbing. Normally, I love antiques, but not the kind that can kill others... and probably have in the past.

"Cheers, lass. Let me give ye a quick tour," Billy grins, leading me into the rather modern kitchen, mostly done in warm autumn colours like the rest of the open-plan area. We walk through the dining section into a short hallway. "Over there is me spare bedroom," he tells me, pointing to the left. "In front of us is the guest bathroom, and there to the right is the main bedroom with its own bathroom."

The bathrooms are both modern, while the bedrooms have the same comfortable blend of old and new. I can see Billy in the furnishings, mostly rugged and strong, like him. His bedroom, especially, is a large, welcoming, comfortable space. Standing beside his king-sized bed - covered in earthy colours, with plump pillows and a puffy duvet - I'm suddenly overly aware of Billy's presence beside me and overcome by enough yearning to chase me to the open-plan dining, living, and kitchen space.

"You've done a great job with this place," I tell him when he joins me. "It's really wonderful."

"Cheers, luv. That means a lot to me," he tells me, entering the dark-tiled and granite-topped kitchen. "Upstairs, I have a few more rooms and a couple of bathrooms for all the youngsters Alaric asks me to put up here from time to time. Ye're welcome to go up and take a look if ye want to."

"Youngsters?"

"Aye," he says, opening and closing cabinets, taking items out of them and placing them on the counter. "I sometimes take in Peace Haven kids who lost their parents, but Alaric tends to gather the lost and the lonely whenever he goes to the continents and brings them here. He pays for their keep, and I mentor them until they find their own way in life."

I blink at him in surprise, though I can imagine Billy being a great mentor for youths.

"Can I help you with something?" I ask, registering his activities, realising that he's already starting to make our lunch.

"Ye can keep me company," he smiles. Opening the refrigerator, he shows me an assortment of beer, ale, soft drinks, and juice. "What would ye like to drink?"

I choose an orange juice and make myself comfortable on a high stool on the other side of the counter when he directs me to it and hands me the bottle he opened for me. He pulls a glass from a cabinet, adds ice to it and places it beside my hand.

"Thanks," I smile, watching, fascinated while he takes a couple of long, thirsty sips from his beer bottle, his throat muscles working prettily. There is no sign left of the vulnerable man I held in my arms only a few minutes ago. He is once again all sunshine, muscles and magnetism, making me feel light-headed.

"I've read that the Slatherties sponsor study programs and such for young people," I remark, clearing my throat and dragging my eyes away from him to focus on pouring my juice into the glass instead. "But I didn't know that he brings people here from the mainland."

"Oh, aye! Alaric loves children and young people... believe it or not," he tells me, setting his bottle on the counter.

That is interesting news. The only child I've ever seen Alaric interact with was Saoirse. He was rather gentle with her, but I'm struggling to see him all warm and fuzzy taking care of kids... which might be why he lets Billy house them instead.

"From time to time, I have to take in a Slatherty or two as well," Billy says, putting a peeled onion on the granite cutting board before him on the counter. Taking a sharp knife from a drawer, he smirks at something past my shoulder. "Like that melter behind ye."

"What?" I exclaim, startled. I nearly fall off the stool in my hurry to turn around, and nearly do it anyway, when I'm suddenly faced with a young man I didn't see or hear entering the house.

He is standing far too close to me, forcing me to look up to see his face. Billy said this is a Slatherty, and I can see it by the unfair handsome gene he'd been blessed with and his grey eyes. His wavy dark hair frames a face that is almost decadently pretty, and the slightly predatory smile pulling at his lips causes a nervous tremor to run through my body.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he tells me when I squirm away from the intensity of his eyes. "I just want to have my wicked way with you. I have no desire to snack on you."

"Well, perhaps one bite..." he adds, his smile turning disturbingly wolfish.

~~~