Page 31 of Wine & Warlocks

“You have Reg—er, my contact number, correct?” Hoping the guy missed his slip, Ronan sighed when he nodded. “My uncle and I have had a bit of a falling out in recent years. Should you see him again, text me or my cousin Ronan.” He rattled off his own number as the attendant put it in his personal cellphone.

“Yes, the man is bad news,” Quentin added. “Stole the family jewels and all that. I’m also a cousin of Reggie’s and Ronan’s. From America, but I’ll be hanging around, so if you can’t reach them, call me.”

After all the numbers were entered into his phone, the attendant left the three of them in the entryway of Reggie’s flat.

Fintan remained quiet as he followed them through the door to the marbled foyer.

“Why doesn’t he have this warded against strangers?” Quentin murmured as he cautiously moved forward. “I can’t help feeling like I’m about to step into a trap.”

Ronan morphed back into his true form and paid special attention to the details of the entry, looking for anything that might be a deterrent or weapon to hurt them should they progress into the flat. “Aye, and I can’t shake the feeling something’s not altogether right here. Fintan?”

“The ancestors aren’t speaking to me, but I feel we’re relatively safe.”

Quentin gave the Seer a disgusted glance. “That doesn’t sound reassuring in the least.” Of Ronan, he asked, “Reggie wouldn’tnotward the place against strangers, would he?”

“Maybe he wasn’t after viewing us as a threat,” Ronan replied with a thoughtful frown. With a deep, stabilizing breath, he walked into the living room. “Reg?” he called. “Are ya here, man?”

The space felt void of life, as if no soul had been there recently.

“Reg?”

A book fell off the shelf to Ronan’s right.

“What the fuck?” Quentin whispered. “Is this place haunted?”

“By Reggie?” Fintan shook his head, but in a blink, his eyes lost focus and turned opaque.

“Jaysus!”Ronan lurched toward him at the same time Quentin surged forward, and they caught Fintan before he could hit the ground.

Quentin wasn’t as quiet with his secondwhat the fuck.

CHAPTER15

“Ronan. I was hoping you’d come looking for me.”

Ronan stared at Fintan in alarm as his cousin’s voice spilled out of the Seer’s mouth. Never had he seen a possession, and witnessing one now made his bollocks shrivel. “Reg?” His voice cracked, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Reggie?”

“I’ve limited time, so listen closely. I enchanted my flat so you could enter and we could have this little chat. Pick up the fallen book.”

Quentin left him holding Fintan to retrieve it, then handed it off and exchanged places with Ronan.

“Keep it at all times. Whenever you need to contact me, give it to the Seer and have him turn to page thirty-seven. It’s a blank page for him to write his questions. I…”

The pause was so long that Ronan worried the connection was severed. “Reg?”

After half a minute, Fintan spoke again in Reggie’s hushed tones. “Loman is walking the cellblock where I’m being held. Write your questions on page thirty-seven and look for the responses on page forty-one. If there are none, I’ve been caught out.”

“Where are ya being held?”

“An island off the coast of Scotland. I don’t know the exact location. But it was a stronghold used by the Dés—fuck! Page thirty-seven,” Reggie reiterated.

Fintan’s body arched up, and his opaque eyes snapped shut.

“I think he’s gone,” Quentin said slowly with a glance toward the tome in Ronan’s hands. “The dude is brilliant.”

“Aye, he’s a crafty one, to be sure.” With a nod to Fintan, Ronan said, “Let’s get him back to the Aether. Maybe—”

The next instant, Fintan came up swinging. Ronan, unprepared for the attack, caught a fist to the jaw, which snapped his head back on his shoulders. Before Fintan had a chance to strike a second time, Quentin froze the man in place, allowing Ronan to scramble out of reach.