Page 43 of Cocktails & Cauldrons

“I never said I intended to be that man!”

The Aether lifted his brows as he looked at Eoin. “Who are you trying so hard to convince?” When Eoin remained silent, Damian continued. “As I was saying, even if I knew what your future held, it wouldn’t be wise to share it with you. Altering the plan laid out by the Fates would have a ripple effect. I’m onlyallowed to step in should the Goddess or the Fates permit it. Such is the condition of my gift.”

“But it’s well known ya helped the Thornes whenever they showed up on your bleedin’ doorstep,” Eoin grumbled.

“True. But again, only because the Goddess allowed it.”

“You’ve not gone against the gods or goddesses, then? Not once?”

“Oh, I’ve done it many times. However, there must be a damned fine reason. Your curiosity about your future isn’t it.” Damian’s tone had turned hard, and the reprimand was undeniable, causing Eoin momentary discomfort, which he rightly deserved for his surliness.

Brenna wasn’t the only one to control magic with her voice.

“Aye. Understood, man.” Eoin placed his hand on the doorknob to admit Brenna, then remembering he couldn’t be that close, stepped back and gestured to Damian. “It appears I’m not allowed even the most common of courtesies, or I’ll hurt her.”

The Aether opened the door with a simple wave of his hand, keeping his thoughtful expression locked on Eoin. He tilted his head as if listening to a sound too distant for the rest of them to hear. His brows clashed together, and he nodded, as if to himself.

“I’ll help you remove whatever is blocking you both, Mr. O’Malley. And I’ll—”

Into the salon skidded a pint-sized girl with black pigtails riding high on her head and a gamine grin. Her clothing was mussed, and she looked like a little hooligan as she turned her calculating gaze on the room. Eoin knew her to be Sabrina Dethridge, beloved daughter of the man in front of him. She, too, had the ability to predict the future and wasn’t as reticent as her father about sharing what she knew when she received her visions.

“Beastie.” Damian sighed heavily. “I thought I told you to stay with your mother while our guests were here.”

“I want to see a real live Siren, Papa!” In her excitement, she practically shouted.

“Sorry, but you won’t be this morning. Off with you,” her father instructed with a stern, no-nonsense stare.

It didn’t have the desired effect, and the child ignored her father to approach them, smiling up at Eoin and giving an aborted curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. O’Malley.”

“Sure, and you sound remarkably like your da.” He smiled. It was impossible not to. The girl was capricious and fecking adorable. If Brenna had been blessed with a better family unit, might she have been secure in their affections and given over to sassy behavior like Sabrina Dethridge?

“Thank you.” Her eyes twinkled, and Eoin got the distinct impression she was busting at the seams to tell him about a vision she’d received.

As if she knew he had guessed, she flared her eyes wide and compressed her mouth, purposely not looking at her da. With a minuscule tilt of her head in Damian’s direction, the little beastie had signaled him to get rid of the adult Aether.

Damian did his best to hide his amusement. “So much drama.” Bending, he swung her up until she was wrapped around him like a baby monkey, clinging to his back.

She smoothed her da’s jumper at the shoulders then patted them. “You’re good at that, Papa. So strong.”

“Mmhmm. Don’t try to play me, my love. I’ve been around lifetimes longer than you. I’m wise to the ways of wild and wicked little witches.”

“I’m not wicked,” she protested as she tightened her stranglehold around his neck. “And Mama says only a little wild.”

“Tell Mr. O’Malley what you’ve seen and head off to break your fast.”

“Mama told me to tell you to invite our guests to breakfast.”

“Of course she did,” Damian murmured with a slight shake of his head as he untangled her from his person and set her on the ground. “Your vision, Beastie. Spill it.”

“The Goddess said Loman O’Connor was back and seeking Siren magic to steal.”

Eoin’s heart dropped to his left knee.

CHAPTER 18

“Loman O’Connor.” Odessa had heard through the grapevine the man had died, bested by Alexander Castor in a fight to the death, but here he was standing on her doorstep. She sighed. One couldn’t trust gossip in today’s day and age. Back in her day, people fact-checked before spreading news.

“It’s grand to see ya again, Odessa.”

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