Page 45 of Wine & Warlocks

“Tell your da what ya know, wee wild beastie. Trust him to help you.”

“I love you, Ronan.”

“Sure, and why wouldn’t ya?” he asked, infusing his tone with surprise that she might not.

With a giggle, she released him and reached for her father.

Over her head, Damian’s grateful gaze met his. “Thank you,” he mouthed.

With a half smile, Ronan left. Part of him was tempted to eavesdrop, but they’d sense his presence, and it was a given that those who listened at keyholes never heard any good about themselves. The Aether would tell him what he found out in good time, and while he waited, Ronan intended to enjoy the chocolate gelato the Dethridges kept on hand.

CHAPTER20

“Would you like to tell me what that was all about, Beastie?” Damian gently asked his daughter.

As she drew back, she sniffled, and the tragic expression she turned his way damned near broke his heart. When she remained quiet, he made an educated guess, based on her behavior.

“It’s about Ronan, isn’t it?”

Tears welled in her eyes, making them large pools of distress.

Damian brushed the wild black curls away from her beloved face. “Does he die in your vision?”

Her lower lip trembled before she pressed her mouth into a firm line.

“I would like for you to try something for me. Are you ready?” When she nodded gamely, he smiled his approval. “Excellent. Now, I want you to go to the point where Ronan dies in your vision, and—”

The small distressed sound she made tore at his conscience.

“It’s all right, Beastie. I’m going to teach you how to set aside the pain and explore other possibilities.”

“But you already taught me that, Papa.”

“Well, yes, but not the part that mattered.” He kissed her forehead. “I suspect you’ve only looked at a handful of options before what you saw became too much for you to continue. Am I correct?”

She nodded.

“Right. So I’m going to link with you, and we’ll explore the future together.”

“I don’t want him or Uncle Alex to die,” she cried.

Inhaling sharply, he got his own worry under control and tried again. “Sabrina, I want you to listen very carefully and try to understand. We may not want to see the truth, and it may hurt our hearts, but our friends need our help. What we are requires us to provide that assistance when we can.”

“Okay, Papa.”

“Good. There is a spell in our grimoire that will allow you to numb your feelings for a short time. Then, you and I can explore all the varied scenarios to see which option is best for everyone without it upsetting you. Would you like to use that spell?”

“Y-yes.” Her lip trembled, and her eyes brimmed with tears again.

“Then let’s return this sweet girl to her mother and go see what we can discover.”

“We have to take this one home too, Papa.”

“No way in hel—uh, no. We arenottaking another dog home. The hellhounds we have are quite enough, thank you.”

“But it’s for Dubheasa.”

“I don’t care if it’s for Isis herself. The puppy stays here until we are ready to hand it over. Got it?”

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