Page 38 of Wine & Warlocks

“Would the stolen abilities revert back to the original witch if Loman’s power source was shut down?” she asked.

“No. He’d only lose the means to amp up more than he already was,” Trevor replied. “His new abilities wouldn’t necessarily go away.”

“A spell would revert those abilities if someone present was to cast it,” Alastair said, giving her a thoughtful look. “What do you have in mind, child?”

“The fake wedding we discussed this morning. If it was made known Sabrina would be there as our flower girl, Loman might risk an attack. He’d have to know he couldn’t reach her any other way, yeah?”

“Probably.”

“I propose we stage a rescue while he’s distracted.”

Alastair nodded slowly. “It’s worth a shot.”

Castor sent him a measuring look. “Should we talk to Isis about pulling the Six from both sides of the veil, Al? Like in the battle with the Enchantress?”

“Yes. I believe we should.” Alastair straightened his cuffs and strode from the room to presumably contact the Goddess.

Dubheasa hated that she constantly felt like the uneducated outsider of their group. “What does that mean?”

Ronan sat and drew her down beside him. “Two hundred years or more ago, Isolde de Thorne, Damian’s mother, was the Aether. Only she was possessed by a mysterious evil destined to consume all magic and drive her mad in the process. Isis gathered the most fierce from Earth and the Otherworld to battle the woman, knowin’ they had to stop her.”

Enthralled by his story, Dubheasa remained silent, eagerly anticipating what came next.

“Sure, and some died, their souls destroyed by the Darkness, but stop her, the Six finally did. Isolde couldn’t be killed, but she could be entombed in a magic coffin. And that’s exactly what Isis achieved with the help of those families from both sides of the veil.”

“Who are the Six families?”

“The Thornes, Dethridges, Champeaus, O’Malleys, Carlyles, and the Drakes,” Castor answered.

She frowned. “Not the O’Connors?”

Ronan sighed. “No, love. My family are a right bunch of thieving bastards, they are. And they gained their magic through stealing it or marrying into it.”

His response didn’t surprise her. “So is the Enchantress still entombed two hundred years later, then?” What must it be like to lie in a tomb year in and year out, never able to escape and slowly being driven mad?

“Ach, no. She found a way out by possessing Mackenzie Thorne. By then, Damian had taken on the mantle of Aether. And his evil mother went after his young daughter.”

Castor’s smile was hard as he finished Ronan’s story. “Damian fried her ass. When it comes to his daughter, he doesn’t play around.”

“Yeah, and I heard the story of Moira just last week,” Dubheasa replied. “How he burned her alive for attempting to hurt Sabrina.”

“He’s ruthless when crossed, and rightfully so.”

“Heavy is the Aether’s crown, to be sure,” Ronan added. “I wouldn’t want to be makin’ the decisions he has to.”

“What type of decisions is he after making?” she asked.

Castor was quick to answer. “Life. Death. Everything in between.”

“Damian has that kind of power?”

“Aye,” Ronan replied.

Dubheasa found it hard to fathom. Life and death were for the gods and goddesses to decide, not mortals. Although the Aether was the highest order of mortal and harder to kill than other magical beings, he could still die and he retained human emotions. The weight of his choices had to be heavy indeed.

“And it’s why neither the Authority nor the Goddess stepped in to stop him from barbecuing Moira. They understood it was up to him to exact retribution and remove a dangerous player from the game.” With a gesture toward Ronan, Castor continued, “To protect his daughter, he’d do anything, and they know it. Case in point, transferring a Guardian’s power to an O’Connor.”

“Yeah, and what better way to balance mine than with an O’Malley Guardian?” Ronan grinned at her.

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