Page 47 of Wine & Warlocks

“I sent them home and told them one of us would contact them as soon as you had something concrete.” Alex shifted to a sitting position and set the book he’d been reading on the coffee table.

With an absent nod, Damian read the cover of the hardback. “Military strategies, Alex?”

“It can’t hurt.”

“Indeed.”

Castor’s stomach clenched at the lack of emotion in his friend’s voice. Damian tended to become stoic and difficult to read when he was worried. “It’s dire, then?”

“It isn’t great. Sabrina and I explored every potential outcome.”

“How many were there?”

“I lost count. But we feel we’ve come up with one to cause the least casualties.”

Watching Damian carefully, Alex asked, “How many are we to lose?”

“Just one.”

“Is the resetting of time an option?”

“No.”

“Fuck.” He scrubbed his hands up and down his face, knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer to his next question. “Who?”

“I cannot tell you that, Alex, as you well know.” Damian’s grave tone grated.

Stomach like a lead weight, Castor stood and crossed to the sideboard to pour two drinks. After handing one to Damian, he took a fortifying gulp of his scotch. “I’m going to insist you tell me it’s not my son, or I’m cutting him out of this altogether.”

Complete honesty shone in Damian’s eyes as he said, “It’s not Quentin.”

The relief Alex felt was profound, and his knees threatened to buckle. “Okay.” Hands shaking, he set his glass on the table, next to the book, and sat down. “Okay.”

Another thought occurred to him, and he looked up sharply. “Not you.”

The Aether opened his mouth to reply, paused, and shook his head with a pained grimace. “Alex.”

“Fuck this. Just tell me.”

“You know I can’t.” Damian downed his drink in one swallow. “Please stop asking.”

“What about the fucking Authority? Why can’t they do their goddamned job and eliminate Loman?”

“We are their tools, my friend. We always have been, and we always will be.”

“Not you.”

“Especially me, andespeciallynow.”

Alex tried to get a bead on Damian’s thoughts, but he’d shut down. The Aether was in full command, with a purposeful blank expression designed to give nothing away. So Alex vented his frustration. “I fucking hate this BS.”

“I know.” Damian released the tight control he held on himself enough to plop down in the closest armchair and drop his head to rest on the seat back. “I do, too.”

“Is Sabrina all right?”

“She is. I taught her a spell to remove all emotion from her vision so she could clearly divine what was meant to happen without being influenced by her feelings.”

“But you didn’t do that for yourself, did you?” Alex guessed.

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