Page 76 of Shadow Spell

“But he was quick about it. A leap without warning—where Connor had no sense of it, nor did I, and we weren’t far off. Then a leap back, wherever he’s biding his time. But in that time, what did he learn?”

“I’m not following you,” Boyle said.

“What did he see Connor do? Get out to face him alone—deliberately alone as he closed you and Meara inside. Protected you. And he saw Branna run out—armed, but again alone—to go to her brother.”

“Then Iona and you,” Meara added.

“He was gone by the time I joined, by the time we made the circle. Watching?” Fin shrugged. “I can’t say for certain, but I had no sense of him.”

“Nor did I,” Connor said when Fin glanced at him.

“So it showed him Connor’s first instinct is to protect. His woman— Oh, don’t be so fragile about it,” Fin said when Meara sputtered a protest. “His woman, his friend. Move the risk away and protect. Branna’s is to go to Connor’s side, as his would be to go to hers. But she protects as well, as she didn’t move to release Meara or Boyle to increase the numbers.”

“It was wrong of me as well, and I’ve apologized to Meara already. Now I apologize to you, Boyle.”

“We’ve covered it all, and it’s forgotten.”

“He won’t forget.” Iona glanced around, understanding. “And he’ll use what he knows, try to use it, work it in somehow.”

“So we find a way to use what he knows, or thinks he knows, against him.” Pleased with the idea, Meara grinned around the table. “How do we use me to trap him?”

“We won’t be doing that.” Connor put a firm cork in that idea bottle. “We tried it, didn’t we, with Iona, and it didn’t work—nearly lost her to him.”

“If at first you don’t succeed.”

“Fuck it and try something else,” Connor finished.

“I choose. Remember your own fine words. I’ll ask you,” she said to Fin. “Is there a way to use me to lure him?”

“I can’t say—and not because I don’t want to tangle with Connor, or Branna come to that. But because we’d all need time to think it through, and carefully. I’m no more willing than Connor to risk as close a call as we had with Iona on the solstice.”

“I’ve no argument with that.”

“We’ll think on it, and all must agree in the end.” He looked at Connor, got a nod. “And we’ll work on it, use what we know, refine what we had, as it was close to the mark.” He looked at Branna.

“It was, as Sorcha’s poison was. But neither finished him. I can’t find what we missed—and yes, we should work together. You’ve a good hand with potions and spells. We have until Samhain.”

“Why Samhain?” Connor asked her.

“The beginning of winter, the eve of the beginning of the year itself for us—the Celts. I thought on this while making this meal. We thought the longest day—light over dark—but I think that was wrong. Maybe this is something we missed. Samhain, for we need some time, but as he’s coming after one of us so blatantly, we can’t take too much of it.”

“On the night the Veil is thin,” Connor considered. “And where it’s said no password is needed to move from realm to realm. That could be it, one of the things we missed. He can pass easy as walking across the room. On that night, it may be we can do the same without struggling first to find where, or when.”

“The night when the dead come to seek the warmth of the Samhain fire,” Fin added, “and the comfort of their blood kin.”

“The dead—ghosts now?” Meara demanded. “Witches aren’t enough for us now.”

“Sorcha,” Branna said simply.

“Ah. You think she could come, add to the power. Sorcha, and the first three as well?”

“It’s what we’ll think on, work on. If we’re all agreed to it.”

“I like it.” Boyle lifted his glass to Branna. “All Hallow’s Eve it is.”

“If we can hold him off that long, and learn enough,” Branna qualified.

“We can. We will,” Connor said decisively. “I’ve always been partial to Samhain—and not just for the treats. I had a fine conversation once with my great-granny on Samhain.”

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