Page 39 of Wine & Warlocks

“It’s a grand way to end a centuries-old feud,” she agreed. “But speaking of Sabrina, as the Oracle, wouldn’t it be possible for her to tell us the outcome of our plan?”

Castor’s visage became thoughtful, but then he seemed ready to reject the suggestion.

Quentin cast him a sharp look. “With someone as dangerous as Loman, this may be the time to see what the human Magic 8 Ball has to say.”

CHAPTER18

When Damian’s phone dinged, he could’ve cheerfully thrown it into the nearest river. Nate’s feeding time was one of his small pleasures. To see his wife’s expression, soft and loving—even if it wasn’t directed at him but at their son—reminded Damian of better times.

His phone dinged again, causing him to glare at the text on the screen.

We need to talk.

Castor wouldn’t be denied.

From his place beside Vivian on their bed, he grimaced and turned the ringer to the off position. Pausing long enough to caress his son’s downy head, he met Viv’s gaze and smiled half-heartedly. “Sorry, my love. I’ve got to answer this.”

She stopped him from leaving with a hand on his arm. “How dangerous is it for you to go after Loman O’Connor, Damian?”

“For me? Not at all. For the others… well, that’s quite another story.”

“Can you see the future, or is your ability still on the blink?”

“The Authority is holding it hostage until I agree to their terms,” he replied grimly. “I’m of the mind to tell them to go bugger themselves.”

“What are the consequences of doing that?”

He met her worried ice-blue eyes and smiled. “Few. They need me, or so they are leading me to believe.”

“And when they don’t need you anymore?”

“Why the twenty questions, Viv? I’ll see you, Nate, and Sabrina are cared for should anything happen to me.”

Her irritation was obvious in the speed with which she removed her hand from his person. “I’m not a gold digger, Damian, and I resent when you make me feel like I am.”

“That was never my intent.” No, he was well aware that she was only with him for the children’s sake. Although his wealth far exceeded hers, Vivian came from old money and probably couldn’t blow through her entire inheritance in her lifetime, should she choose to. Upon her parents’ early demise, the bulk of the Stephens’ assets were transferred to Vivian and her three sisters—Josie, Soleil, and Taryn—with a portion held in trust for future generations.

“Regardless of what you believe, I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Her glacial tone belied her words, but with Vivian, Damian could rarely tell what truly went on in her mind.

Prior to their separation, she had appealed to the Goddess to sever their psychic link. She’d done it so she could hide her escape plan from him. And one day when he left the estate to assist a friend, she’d taken Sabrina and run. Damian couldn’t bear to hear what she truly thought of him, and so their previous connection had never been restored. Not the one of the heart and certainly not their mental link.

He had been unable to bridge the ever-widening gap between them, and perhaps a huge part of him didn’t care to. If he convinced himself she was nothing more than the mother of his children, he would never again be devastated by her defection.

Weary down to his soul, he turned away and climbed from the bed. “My apologies, my dear. What else would you like to know?”

Her full mouth tightened into a thin line. “Nothing.”

“Very well.”

As he started to leave, she called his name. Had he imagined the catch in her voice?

He paused and turned.

Her pained expression arrested his heart.

“I do care, Damian. Maybe not in the way you believe I should, but I do.”

“I’m just thrilled you care at all, Viv. There was a time it seemed like you didn’t.” He didn’t mean to sound as gruff as he did, but his disaster of a marriage hurt like hell. Vivian was the only woman he’d ever thought to marry. The only one he’d ever wanted to share a piece of himself with, but it had all turned to shit after Sabrina was born, and they couldn’t seem to find their way back to each other.

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