Page 48 of Whiskey & Witches

Turning to face him, Damian smiled sadly. “It’s who you are as a person. Men like you and me, we feel all the world’s troubles. It’s woven into our DNA. Not only do we attract the evil, we feel terrible when we’re forced to take extreme measures to end it.”

“I don’t deserve to be held to your level, Dethridge. I’m not a pimple on your arse, to be sure.”

With a short bark of laughter, Damian returned and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re wrong. You’re a far better man than you believe you are.” He held out his hand for the empty tumbler. “It’s time for you to make yourself scarce. I’ve company to see to.”

“But you don’t know why I came.”

“Don’t I? They’re here now, seeking what you would have me fix.”

“They?”

“The O’Malleys.”

“Feck!” Ronan jumped up, his heart beginning to pound hard. “They can’t know I’m part of this. Please, don’t tell them.”

Damian cocked his head, similar to how his small daughter had done, and studied him. “I’ll not lie if they ask, but otherwise, your secret is safe with me.”

“Will you heal her? Roisin?”

“If that is what is requested of me.”

“If you do, if you heal her and the boyo, I’ll be in your debt. And if you call, I’ll come, no questions asked.”

With a grin and a hearty slap on his back, Damian said, “You’re too nice to be a dastardly mastermind.”

“Yeah, I’ve a soft spot for innocents.”

“As soon as I let them in the front door, you can leave through—”

Sabrina’s sweet voice drifted to them. “My Papa is in there with Ronan.”

Ronan swore under his breath as Damian sighed.

“So much for escape. I suppose you’ll have to face the music, O’Connor.”

Carrick maneuveredhis body in front of Roisin and Aeden as soon as Damian’s daughter shoved open the door to the study. Roisin’s claim that she believed Ronan to be the head of the troublesome trio had stuck with him, and he couldn’t shake the sick feeling that she was right. Too many things were off about this entire situation.

The second his gaze connected with Ronan’s, Carrick knew the truth. The other man couldn’t hide his dismay fast enough.

“We shouldn’t have come without an invitation,” he said with a slight nod in respect to the Aether, inching his small family backward toward the door. “We’ll just be headin’ home now.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. O’Malley,” Damian Dethridge said smoothly. “You’ve traveled all this way. Come in.”

Of all the people in the room, only the girl and her father looked at ease. Expectant, even.

Carrick’s instinct told him to scoop up his family and get the hell out of there, but one didn’t dismiss a direct invitation from the Aether.

Next to him, Roisin gasped when she saw Damian for the first time. A side glance showed she was utterly enthralled. And a check of his son showed Aeden was similarly affected by the daughter. It stood to reason they would be; not only was the Aether the most handsome person imaginable, but his unlimited power also drew unsuspecting witches like a moth to a flame. Like his Enchantress mother before him, Damian Dethridge could seduce with a mere look. Apparently, his daughter would inherit the trait.

The little girl hadn’t moved far from Aeden and stared at him with similar fascination.

“I can’t see you,” she said in awe. “What are you?”

Aeden frowned and looked up at Carrick, then back at the girl.

“He doesn’t understand the question,” Roisin said softly. “He’s our son.”

“What’s your name?” the pint-sized girl asked.

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