Page 30 of Wine & Warlocks

“You included?” she asked.

“Me included.”

Alastair strolled back into the room, looking for all the world like a man on a mission. In his hand, he held a flash drive to Dubheasa. “Here you are, my dear. Everything you requested.”

“I don’t know where it is you get your information, Mr. Thorne, but I’m after meeting the source, I am.”

He chuckled. “I’ll introduce you to Alfred someday soon.”

* * *

After Dubheasa excusedherself to work her particular brand of modern magic with her laptop, Ronan and the others got down to the business of setting the faux-wedding trap. Damian, Alastair, and Castor brainstormed locations as Bridget, Brenna, and Eoin discussed everything from flower arrangements to dress designs.

“We could use Reggie for his fashion sense,” Eoin muttered with a shake of his head. “If only the scut would call me back!”

Ronan’s cousin cared for few people, but he had a soft spot for Eoin, and it didn’t sit well that Eoin hadn’t received a return call from Reggie.“When did you last speak to him?”

“It’s been a good four days, I’m thinkin’.”

Brenna glanced up from the Pinterest board she’d started on her phone. “It’s odd, isn’t it? Reggie touches base with Eoin every other day, at least.”

“He’s been known to go silent when he meets a new friend, though.” Eoin shrugged but frowned just as quickly. “But usually, he’ll tell me he’s going dark for a bit, he does.”

“Sounds like we should be worried about our cousin Reggie,” Quentin said in a contemplative tone. “Where does he live? I’ll go check it out.”

Castor, who had previously appeared lost in discussion with the Aether, faced his son. “Not alone, you won’t.”

“I’ve been on my own my entire life. I don’t answer to you.” Quentin’s response was clipped and his expression unyielding.

To prevent a war of wills, Ronan stood. “Yeah, and I’ll go with him. I know a few of Reggie’s old haunts. Eoin can give me a list of the new ones.” He glanced at Fintan. “Care to be our early warning system, Seer?”

Fintan gave them a sharp nod, but nothing in his expression indicated he was worried about their journey, and Ronan breathed easier.

They arrived outside Reggie’s flat in London twenty minutes later with a list of places he liked to frequent tucked firmly in Ronan’s back pocket. Doubtful any of them would be able to enter his cousin’s warded place, he prepared to counter the enchantment with a charm from the Aether.

Quentin’s hand on Ronan’s arm stopped him before he got started. “Let’s get the attendant to let us in. If he’s a nonmagical human, he should be able to enter without difficulty.”

“No building manager will be lettin’ a group of strangers into the flat of one of their owners, to be sure,” Fintan said.

“Probably not, but they’ll let Reggie in.” Quentin’s grin was pure mischief, and not for the first time, Ronan wondered what it might have been like to grow up normal, with a sense of self, like his new cousin had.

“I’m guessing I’m to play the part of Reg?”

Quentin gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Well, you could probably emulate him best.”

After a quick search of the area to ascertain if there were onlookers or cameras to catch his transformation, Ronan glamoured into Reggie’s slighter, shorter frame. After two or three tries, he perfected his cousin’s posh English speech and arrogant expression.

“Let’s hope I can pass through the wards without getting my arse electrocuted.”

“It’s uncanny,” Quentin said with a shake of his head.

Five minutes later, the attendant was using a master key to grant them access to the flat. “Did your uncle find you, sir?”

“My uncle?” Sick dread settled in Ronan’s gut.

“Yes, sir. Your uncle. He came by about three or four days ago, now. Said he had a grand surprise for you.”

“I’ll just bet he did,” Quentin muttered as he shared a grim look with Ronan.

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