Page 72 of Wine & Warlocks

Simon grinned when they remained silent. “I think that means we’re ready to go.”

As they ran toward the fray, Castor’s fury grew and he made a concerted effort to shove it away. Anger had no place in battle. He needed to be levelheaded and calculating. As he got to the south entrance, he shot Trevor a sharp look. “Remind me when this is over and we’re home again, to punch Damian in his perfect fucking face—about five or six times.”

“Done.”

“Do you have a cloaking sp—Okay, then,” he said as Trevor vanished before his eyes. Fintan counted down through the earpiece, and Castor didn’t wait for ONE.

“Fuck!”Fintan’s curse rang in his ear, but Alex didn’t give a shit. He had a brother to kill.

Loman greeted him with a sneer. “Sure, and I was wondering when you’d show up. Shouldn’t your keeper be with ya?”

Knowing damned well he meant the Aether, Castor pasted on a bored expression. “He didn’t think you were important enough to bother.”

“You’ll not bait me this time, ya feckin’ gobshite!” Loman snapped.

“Hmm, sounds like I already have.”

The door behind his brother slammed shut, and Loman lobbed a lightning bolt in the direction of the newcomer. Already anticipating the move, the Seer stepped out of the path and lifted his middle fingers in salute.

Alex didn’t think he had any humor left at that point, but the gesture was so Fintan Sullivan that he laughed. “Looks like we’re all quaking in our boots with fear of you, Loman.”

“You’re a proper fool if you aren’t.”

“Meh.”

“Let me ask ya, then, are ya prepared to sacrifice your beloved nephew to the fight this time?” Standing in the center of the aisle, Loman lifted his arms and gestured to the cells on either side of him. “Sure, and ya might save one, but which one would ya be after savin’?”

Castor refused to look, refused to have his concentration broken by anything he might see.

A cunning light entered Loman’s eyes as he grinned. “It always comes back to this, doesn’t it, Antoine?”

“Alex,” Castor snapped, not really caring if his brother used his given name or not. His goal was to keep Loman preoccupied until everyone was in place. “And what is it that it always comes to?”

“You tryin’ to outsmart me and failin’.”

“Pfft. You’re a delusional motherfucker, Loman.” Risking a glance at Fintan, he said, “Correct me if I’m wrong, Fin, but didn’t we kill him twice already?”

Reggie shifted toward the entrance of his cell and raised his hand like a star pupil. “I can answer that one. Yep, and I’ll gladly claim credit for the arrow to the chunk of coal he calls a heart.”

With a snarl, Loman threw a ball of fire in his direction, only to have it bounce back. He dove for the floor with a vicious curse.

“Weren’t expecting that, Uncle?” Reggie said with a harsh laugh. “Is it senility creeping in? I mean, youwerethe bloody bastard who cast the boomerang spell on my cell to begin with.”

“Shut the fuck up! You’re as thick as manure but half as useful, ya are!” Loman snapped.

Castor clapped his hands. “Good one, Lo.”

Behind him, Fintan gave the signal Alex had been waiting for.

“Okay, I’m tired of this game now.”

With a simple swipe of his hand, he froze time.

Only Loman wasn’t the statue Castor had expected him to be.

“Ya think I don’t learn from past mistakes, brother?” He threw back his head and laughed as Alex tried twice more to lock the room down. “You’ll wear yourself out tryin’, ya will. Reginald, would ya like to explain to me thickheaded brother just why his parlor tricks won’t be workin’ here?”

“I’ll leave the honor to you.”

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