Page 86 of The Aether

“How hard was it to find and open? Do you think that’s Morcant’s escape hatch?”Damian asked him.

“It blended with the floorboards, and there was dust in the cracks. And yeah, that could be spelled to conceal the openin’, but I didn’t feel a magical signature.”

“Fair enough. I would also assume if you’re having to break through the wall, he’s not using that tunnel.”

“What do you want us to do once we’re through, friend?”

Damian considered his options.

“Sabrina first. Get her out.”He paused to swallow down the encroaching grief.“She may be resistant without her mother, but let her know I won’t leave Viv.”

Even in his head, his voice sounded gruff with emotion. Closing his eyes, he pictured his wedding day. Recalled how stunning Vivian had been when she walked down the aisle to where he anxiously waited. Her beaming smile had quieted all his concerns, and he became lost in the beauty of that memory.

Alastair touched his shoulder, returning Damian from the past.“Better?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

Draven spoke up and said what Damian could hear most of the Sentinels thinking.“You shouldn’t go down there, cher.”

“Because?”

“Your reaction when Vivian left the house to chase your daughter. Here’s the thing, friend. If you see what you don’t want to, you could cause a collapse.”

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Damian contemplated what the Guardian had said. Yes, hehadgone off the rails, but there were no surprises awaiting him. He now knew what to expect.

“I’m going in,”he said simply.“Anyone afraid to follow me, stay behind. No one will think less of you for seeing to your own safety first.”

“Speak for yourself, Dethridge. I’ll think less of them,”Castor quipped.“A whole helluva lot less.”

“He’s not wrong, Alex. You saw what I did. My rage could kill you all.”

“I’ll take my chances. I’m sure my date in the islands, whatshername, has moved on by now. I’ve nothing left to live for anyway.”

Alastair’s amused snort traveled through their telepathic link.“Well, whoever is going, let’s do this. It’s breakfast soon at Thorne Manor, and my niece makes the most divine cinnamon rolls. Your daughter’s favorite, next to your pancakes, if I’m not mistaken, Dethridge. We’ll let her have first pick.”

Unable to speak his undying gratitude to his best friend, he pulled Alastair into an iron-tight embrace. When Damian released him, they shared a moment of understanding.“Then we should get going. I know how cranky you get when you haven’t eaten.”

“It’s better for us if he hasn’t.”Castor grinned.“He’ll mow down anyone in his path, Morcant included, to get to the table.”Holding up his hands as if to ward off an attack by Alastair, he said,“Just a warning for others not to get in your way, Al. They’re taking their life in their hands.”

“Didn’t you say I get to wield Stephan’s sword, Dethridge?”Alastair asked with an arched brow.

Castor laughed.

“You two stay here and finish boring the hole,”Damian told them.“You’ll know when to come through. For the love of the Goddess, avoid triggering that bloody bomb, or we won’t need to worry about my temper causing a cave-in.”

After sending out a feeler to the alley and detecting no movement, Damian teleported.“Al, have your team check for cameras out here and scramble or delete footage of our magic.”

“They’re already on it.”

Within two minutes, Damian had joined the others at the wall.“Beastie? Can you hear me, my love?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He held up a hand, halting all movement. Blanking his mind, he removed his ring, held it up, and gestured for the others to do the same. Once their mental connection was broken, he conjured paper and pencil. After writing the message, he gave it to Draven to pass along.

“My daughter doesn’t call me ‘Daddy.’ It’s always been ‘Papa.’ Morcant has likely tapped into our connection and is trying to sound like her, or Sabrina is trying to warn us.”

They each nodded their understanding, and he returned pencil to paper. “Someone take these notes to Alastair and Castor. Let them know we are about to put on the performance of a lifetime.”

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