Page 44 of Wine & Warlocks

For the first time in what felt like hours, Ronan laughed. “He has you there, Uncle. I imagine Damian has gone to check the wee beastie’s room, but I think I know where she went, all the same. If there’s not any chocolate gelato left for me when I get back, I’ll be knowin’ the why of it,” he warned them.

* * *

Ronan foundSabrina hiding in Baz’s barn with a black-and-tan Rottweiler puppy curled in her lap.

“Are you angry with me, then, love?”

She shook her head and swiped a tear from her cheek.

“Do you want to talk about what has ya so upset?”

Again, she moved her head in a negative fashion.

“And it’s something you can’t be telling your da?”

Sabrina gave a half-hearted shrug.

Crouching down, Ronan scratched the sleeping pup behind the ear. “I think I recognize this one, I do.”

“It’s the one you picked out for Dubheasa.”

“I picked, or the one you picked for me?”

A fleeting smile flashed across her face, but she sobered again just as quickly. “I don’t want to tell you.”

“You think I’ll be upset by what you reveal, yeah?”

She nodded.

His stomach dropped. Her prediction had to be dire, to be sure. “And there’s no chance you could be wrong?”

“No,” she whispered.

Ronan sat beside her. “Do ya want to know what I think, wee wild beastie?”

Lifting her head, she stared up at him. The agony of indecision was written on her dirty, tear-streaked face. “What?”

“I think you don’t have to tell me anything that brings tears to your grand eyes. But if ya think there might be something that helps others, it’s okay to let your da in on the secret.” Ronan gently bumped her shoulder with his. “He’s been around a lot longer than the two of us, and he might have a few tricks up his sleeve. I’m after betting he can help.”

“But it always ends bad, Ronan.” With a choked sob, she set the puppy aside. “I d-don’t want it t-to end b-bad,” she croaked and flung herself into his arms.

Holding her close, he rested his cheek on the top of her head and rubbed her back as she continued to cry. “It’s gonna be alright, love. Nothing is worth such grief.” When she sobbed harder, Ronan’s emotion got the better of him, and tears stung his eyes. Her pain gutted him. “Hush now, darlin’ girl.”

A sixth sense told him Damian was close, and Ronan visually searched the darkened corners of the barn for his friend. Chances were, if Sabrina was in distress, the Aether wouldn’t be far. Movement in the shadows to his left caught Ronan’s attention an instant before Damian stepped into the dimly lit room.

“Has she told you?” her father asked quietly.

“Nah. It breaks her puir heart to say. I’ll not push for details.”

Damian squatted beside them and placed a hand on the crown of his daughter’s head. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to sit with her for a while.”

“And I’d be going, but she’s clinging to me like an ivy, she is.” Ronan put his mouth by her ear and, in a conversational tone, said, “There are those who aren’t aware of it, but ivy is a tough, tenacious plant, to be sure. It grows wild, climbing trellises and trees alike. Not so different from a wee beastie I’m acquainted with.”

Her head came up, and curiosity lit her red-rimmed eyes. “Poison ivy?”

“Well, sure, if you want to be aggravatin’ others, you could be the poisoned variety, but I’m guessing you want to be the pretty English ivy whose flowers provide nectar for bees and that produces berries for birds come winter, yeah?”

She grinned, and his heart ceased to ache on her behalf. Like English ivy, she was resilient.

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