Page 58 of Wine & Warlocks

“Who do you plan to catch in that snare of yours, then?” she asked with an attempt at eagerness. Yet her stomach tightened at the thought it might be any or all of her children. Sure, she was a wee bit self-serving, but she wasn’t completely heartless when it came to her kin.

Loman’s grin was pure evil intent as he locked gazes with her.

He didn’t need to say a fecking word. Rose knew exactly who he was after.

The woman his son loved.

Dubheasa.

CHAPTER25

Sleep eluded Dubheasa. Ever since she’d seen her mother, a pervading doom destroyed her sense of well-being. As the evening progressed, that feeling had swelled, growing stronger and nearly suffocating her.

Ronan shifted and curled around her, draping an arm across her waist. “Can’t sleep?”

“No. Worry has dug its claws into me, and I can’t seem to shake it off.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” His arm tightened, and he kissed her shoulder.

“What do ya think it could be?”

“Damned if I know.” He sighed and rolled into a sitting position. “But mine started before your mam appeared. Though she didn’t do anything to ease my feckin’ nerves, mind ya.”

“Should we delay the mission?” Dubheasa sat up and curled her arms around her knees. “Wait for a time when we don’t feel the ghosts of our ancestors waiting to take our souls to the other side?”

Ronan’s sharp, searching look was off-putting.

“What?” she asked.

“Why did you phrase it like that?”

Why had she? No answer seemed to come, and she shrugged. “I’m not quite sure. But this entire fecking thing feels off to me. Like disaster is waiting just around the corner.”

“Fuck if I don’t feel it, too.” He ran a shaking hand through his mussed hair. “It’s been eating at my insides for days now.”

Placing her hand along his jaw, she turned his face to her. “Why didn’t you insist we find another way, then?”

“I didn’t want to put doubt in your mind if it was only fear of my da showing its ugly teeth,” he confessed with a rueful grin.

Yet his eyes were haunted, and Dubheasa hated the trepidation she saw there. Ronan O’Connor wasn’t afraid of much, and Loman had to be the Devil himself if he provoked that type of response in his son.

“What do we do?”

“Nothing for it. We’ve others relying on us to act,” Ronan said grimly. “If we don’t stop Da soon, he’ll grow too strong, and then we might not be able to.”

“And we can’t leave it to the others? To Damian and Trevor? Don’t they—”

The fierce denial in Ronan’s expression cut her off. No, he wouldn’t leave the dirty work to another. And if he was going to dive into the fray, Dubheasa intended to be by his side. They’d do it together.

“I fear for Bridget and my brothers.” She toyed with the corner of the sheet, folding the edge over on itself. “If we leave them here for the fake wedding and Loman strikes, I could lose one, or all, of them.”

“We’ve discussed this, Dove. The strongest Sentinels from the Authority will be here, prepared to protect them and any attending’ guests. Damian and Castor have covered all the contingencies with a Traveler, another Death Dealer, and another Guardian.” Ronan eased the sheet from her tight grip and tipped her chin up. “It’ll be all right, love. And didn’t I promise Loman O’Connor would die tomorrow?”

She forced a smile. “You did.”

“Then it will be done. Consider it an early wedding present, yeah?”

“Who says I agreed to marry you? That’s a bit presumptive.” With an arrogant sniff and a mock glare, she said, “You still haven’t proposed to me proper-like.”

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