Page 81 of Wine & Warlocks

“Feck.”

“You should be prepared to catch her if she faints. It’s not every day your sister and da return from the dead.”

Ronan whipped his head back around to stare at her. “Da?”

Scrunching her brow, she tried not to giggle when she said, “Yeah, and didn’t I tell you that my da stepped through the portal with me?”

Wildly, he looked around, as if he were a callow youth, worried he was about to be caught in a compromising situation and expecting her father to step from behind the trees at any moment.

“He is waiting at his flat in Galway,” she explained. “I wanted to tell Bridg and my brothers first.”

Ronan scooped up Buttercup in one arm, then clasped Dubheasa’s hand in his. After bussing her knuckles, he winked. “You’ll have to be the one to catch Bridget if she falls. My arms are as full as my heart.”

EPILOGUE

Full of bitter rage but bearing an aloof expression, Damian stood center stage in front of the U-shaped table of the Authority. From the raised platform, the thirteen council members watched him with varying degrees of curiosity. He resented them all for forcing his hand.

But now that they’d allowed Dubheasa’s resurrection, he had a promise to keep.

“Are you prepared to stand by your word and do your duty, Aether?”

Damian met the gaze of the smug-faced leader. “I am.”

“You’ll be contracted for life,” another council member warned.

If he didn’t know better, he’d almost believe the stately woman held compassion for his plight. But those belonging to the Authority were ruthless and controlling, without an ounce of empathy for others.

“I’m well aware of the conditions, Ms. Otherman,” he replied coolly.

What he didn’t say was that he intended to end his employment at his earliest opportunity. He’d grant them twenty years, and when his children were old enough to survive without him, he’d find a loophole. The Goddess Isis would assist him, he had no doubt. She’d been against the Authority’s blackmailing scheme from the start. But if he couldn’t trick his way out of his contract, he’d accept the penalty of death that went with breaking trust with the Authority.

“And you’ll lead a team of Sentinels on missions of our choosing,” the lead council added.

“You act as if I’ve forgotten the terms, Butthanger,” Damian said, tone as dry as dirt.

“It’sButtagier,” the man snapped.

“My bad.”

Someone along the sweeping panel snickered, earning a dark look from Buttagier.

A buzzer sounded, and a glass panel on the floor in front of Damian slid to the side. From beneath the ground level, a desk-sized altar rose, and the stone it rested on locked in place of the previous panel.

“Step forward,” Buttagier ordered.

Teeth gritted, Damian moved to take position behind the ceremonial table.

A female dressed in the long black robes of the Authority rose from her seat and crossed to him.

“This will require not only your signature, but your blood to seal the deal, Aether.” She lowered her voice for his hearing alone. “Do you understand what you are giving up, Damian?”

“Yes, Mattie.” Had it not made her a target of Buttagier’s ire, Damian would’ve smiled at her. Mathilda Price had been in his corner during negotiations. She’d tried to be the voice of reason and had gone toe-to-toe with the lead council to cut the terms of Damian’s employment down. All she’d earned for her troubles was their displeasure.

“Ronan deserves to be happy, and if I have to give up a few years of my life to do it, I will,” he said quietly.

“But it’s more than a few years. It’s forever if you’re not careful,” she argued. “You’ll be underButthanger’s thumb.”

Lips twitching, he remained silent and nodded. Mattie hated the man as much as Damian did, and her slip almost sent him over the edge into laughter.

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