Adam kept his arm around my shoulders as he urged me toward the porch. “This is Áedán Mac Lochlainn.”
“You’re vouching for him?”
He nodded. “He’s been working for the Rege.”
“Undercover?” I peered at Áedán, and he grinned at me.
“The Duque de Malaga sent four of his vampyres, and me. He didn’t turn me. I let him think I was discontented with the way things were run, and so he…recruited me.” His grin turned hard, and he looked exactly like the vampyre who’d come to my door, expecting me to love him and let him in. “I’m a quarter Castilian—my grandfather was one of the few survivors of La Girona, when it went aground near Dunluce in 1588. Instead of going to Scotland with the others, he stayed in Ireland and wed my Gran. I have no use for the ruling class, be it English or Romanian,” he
