Page 8 of Wine & Warlocks

He met Dubheasa’s laughing gaze across the table and shook his head. The things the Aether did to spoil his daughter boggled the mind.

Damian’s soft snort came through the line. “Yes. I’m completely insane, or so Viv assures me. A newborn and two puppies? I’ve completely lost it. Send help.”

Everyone, including Trevor Blane, laughed in unison.

A moment later, Damian sighed. “I suppose we should shelve the talk of my family and turn the discussion to yours, Ronan. Does anyone have eyes on Loman?”

“Not yet. He’s somehow managed to stay off the deities’ radar as well as all of ours.”

“It’s never a good sign when the Goddess can’t unearth his whereabouts,” Damian agreed.

Dubheasa leaned forward. “How is that possible? How can one man walk through the portal of the Otherworld, not once but twice, after being stripped of his powers, andstillescape detection?”

“If I knew, he would be in hell right now.” Damian’s tone was as grim as Ronan had ever heard it. “That’s why I’ve brought Blane into this. Trevor, are you prepared to do what is necessary?”

“Aren’t I always?” Trevor asked with a coolly amused look for the rest of them. “I’ve spoken to my brother, Simon. He’s prepared to accept the abilities you discussed earlier this year. I’m going to pull him in for backup since my father is once again in the wind.” For a second, he looked uncomfortable, as if the next part of the discussion was going to be a big ask. “Dethridge, should anything happen to me on this mission, I ask that you please see my brother is trained thoroughly and that his wife, Evelyn, doesn’t suffer any of the side effects from his gift as a Death Dealer. Heal her when or if she needs it.”

“It will be done.”

“Thank you. Who else are we expecting to join our manhunt?” Trevor asked.

“Fintan Sullivan will work with Sabrina to determine the various outcomes of our plans. Alexander Castor has a stake in all of this. He is flitting about space and time as we speak, trying to dig up information or get a lock on Loman’s location.”

Trevor shot Ronan a questioning look.

“Castor is my uncle, twin to my father. He’s likely using his blood as a divining tool,” Ronan explained. “He’s probably the only one able to find the fecker, other than me.”

“You’ve bled enough last week while searching for him,” Dubheasa said, although she looked uncomfortable showing any sign of caring about his welfare.

“Ah, Dove. It warms me puir heart when ya turn all loving, the way you have.”

With an arch look that told him to pound salt and die, she turned her attention back to Trevor. “If I’m after understanding this plan, you’re going to be the one to stop Loman for good by obliterating his soul and making it so he can’t return again.”

“That’s the goal.” Trevor rubbed the back of his neck. “But the trick is going to be finding and containing him long enough for that to happen.”

“That’s where Alex and Ronan come in,” Damian replied. “Alastair Thorne also has his network of spies kicking over stones. We’ll find him.”

Bridget placed a tea tray on the table and gestured for them all to dig into the biscuits and small sandwiches. “It’s our slow season at the inn. If any of your team needs lodging, we’ll put them up here. Same goes for you, Trevor Blane.”

After shooting a glance Dubheasa’s way, Trevor smiled at Bridget. “Thank you, Ms. O’Malley. The offer is appreciated.”

“But you’ll not be sharing Dove’s bed, all the same,” Ronan growled.

As one, they turned to stare at him with varying degrees of horror. Trevor’s was more like horrified amusement.

“Way to stake your claim, fella.”

Ronan leaned forward to emphasize his point. “I’ve been pretty fecking clear from the moment we met,fella.”

Dubheasa literally growled. “Ronan O’Connor, I swear—”

“No murdering each other until Loman is a long-forgotten memory, please,” Damian said, laughter heavy in his tone. “And on another note, Ronan, have you discovered where your cousin Reggie disappeared to? I want to know if his participation in Loman’s death and subsequent escape was intentional.”

Meeting and holding Dubheasa’s worried gaze, Ronan nodded. “Reggie called Eoin and Brenna when we were all sequestered together. Look, I may be wrong here, but I’d say his move in planting that arrow squarely in my father’s chest was impulsive, not thought out.”

“Aye. He wasn’t about showing remorse, but he wasn’t boasting about helping Loman escape, either,” Dubheasa added.

“That’s one load off my mind.” A muffled cry sounded from Damian’s side of the call. “I believe Nate is hungry, my friends. We can pick this back up when Alex and the others get there.”

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