Page 74 of Wine & Warlocks

CHAPTER31

As Castor left to make the call, Ronan crossed to Dubheasa’s cell and sat down beside her. He’d have lifted her head into his lap, but he didn’t want to taint her with his father’s evilness. And by that yardstick, he should probably leave her in peace when Damian restored her soul.

As he contemplated life and death, it occurred to him that the Blane brothers should be able to revive as well as dispatch souls. Death Dealers had the ultimate power when it came to manipulating the living.

“Can you bring her back, Trevor?”

“No.” The gruffness in Blane’s voice spoke of finality.

“Sure, and why not? You’re a bleeding Death Dealer,” Ronan spat. “You hold sway over the living and the dying. Why the fuck not?”

Trevor’s look was one of helplessness. “I’m sorry, O’Connor. It’s not within my ability to do.”

“Not within your ability, or you’re after being the Authority’s fuckin’ puppet?” Ronan challenged with a glare that promised retribution.“She was your fucking friend!”

The air within the cellblock contracted and expanded as the Aether stepped through a rift in the fabric of space. Behind him, Ronan glimpsed the high table of the Authority just before the opening sealed shut.

“I can’t reach...” Castor trailed off as he returned and saw the Aether had already joined them.

“I was unreachable.” Damian didn’t approach Ronan right away, instead strolling the length of the prison, silently absorbing the empty cells and the intricate symbols above the openings. “So much death,” he murmured, trancelike. “And pain.”

Ronan attempted to recall his attention to the immediate issue. “Damian, you need to bring Dove back.”

Ignoring him, the Aether paused to stare dispassionately at Loman. “He’s not presently here, but are you sure you decimated his soul, Blane?”

“It’s done.”

“Thank you.” He nodded to the others. “I’d like you all to leave now. I need to speak with Ronan.”

A warning bell clanked in Ronan’s brain. Damian refused to look at him, and Castor shifted uneasily as he glanced between them. Whatever was about to come out of his friend’s mouth would sever Damian’s and his relationship forever.

Feeling as if he were hundreds of years old, Ronan climbed to his feet and shuffled toward him. “Damian.”

“This conversation needs privacy.”

His heart stopped in his chest at Damian’s severe tone, and he shot a panicked look in Castor’s direction. The rising unhappiness darkened his uncle’s irises to a wintery blue.

“Don’t,” Ronan cried in desperation. “Don’t tell me you won’t bring her back, man. I know ya can.”

Damian’s expression remained aloof, his gaze unfeeling.

Ronan snapped, and in a red haze, he curled his sticky hands in the Pima cotton fabric of Damian’s shirt. “You have the ability!You can pull her back from the Otherworld if you choose.”

“I don’t choose.”

Staggering back, Ronan stared at the man he’d once believed to be his friend. The frosty tone, the finality, the flinty stare… No, it wasn’t Damian, the man. The Aether, the unfeeling judge, jury, and executioner of the witch community, stood in his place.

With jerky movements, his disbelieving gaze still locked on Damian, Ronan turned his head toward Castor. “Reset time, Uncle. I’ll never ask another favor of you, but I’ll be forever in your debt. You’ve only to ask me, and I’ll be there without question.”

“He won’t go against me,” the Aether stated with an arrogant assurance Ronan could never duplicate in a million years. Expression easing marginally, Damian infused compassion into his voice. “Come with me, Ronan. I’ll take you home. The O’Malleys—”

“No!”The denial was torn from the very fiber of his soul. Backing into the cell, he sat on his arse beside Dubheasa’s hip. His wild stare locked with Reggie’s where he stood observing the entire exchange with an astonished expression.

“Jaysus! Tell me I’m havin’ a nightmare here. Tell me the lot of them aren’t after betraying me.” He clenched and unclenched his fists as he stared at the drying blood. “Please. Tell me this is a mind game of Loman’s and not reality you’re trying to shove on me,” he whispered brokenly as he sent them all a pleading look.

With a hand on Trevor’s shoulder, Simon spoke to his brother in a low tone for his ears alone, and Trevor’s apologetic gaze dropped to Dubheasa before meeting Ronan’s.

“I’m sorry, Ronan,” he said gruffly and turned on his heel to stalk away, shaking his head the entire length of the corridor. Simon followed in his wake and shoved the swinging door in what might’ve been anger at the situation.

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