Page 69 of Highballs & Hexes

“There is always collateral damage, Clara Bohannon.Always.” He shook his head. “I should know, because I’ve turned your son evil.”

“I’m not evil!”

“He was twisted by Loman,” she said in agreement. “I’ve done nothing to help him, to be sure.”

“I wasn’t…” Tadhg trailed off with a frown. “He…”

Patrick infused understanding and compassion in his voice when he said, “I was there too, boyo. I heard what that gobshite said to all of you. How he blamed your incarceration on the O’Malleys.” Hour after hour, Loman had played a recorded message throughout the cellblock. He’d droned on about how the O’Malleys were at fault because they’d stolen his magic and murdered him time and again. His claim was that he was only after syphoning their magic to defeat his greatest enemy. “After a while, it seeps into your subconscious, especially while you’resleeping. If you hear something often enough, whether it be true or false, you begin to believe that’s the right of it.”

“Whatisthe truth?” Tadhg asked hoarsely. “Are you trying to say you didn’t imprison us again?”

“No. I did it to all those on our original cellblock, and only because my bent mind needed to create a safe space to land. It sought the comfort of the familiar.”

“You admitted it yourself, Tadhg. The lot of you ate like kings and had the finest bed,” Clara pointed out, bless her. “Other than to keep you there, he did nothing to hurt ya.”

“I wasn’t after torturing anyone,” Patrick added. “But the truth started two hundred and fifty plus years ago when the O’Connors stole the O’Malley magic. My children fulfilled a prophecy, and our power was returned to us as a reward. Loman O’Connor didn’t like the drain of his, so he sought to replace it any way he could.”

“We were all caught in your war,” Tadhg concluded.

“His, but yeah.” Straightening from where he leaned on the chair, he approached Tadhg. “I can heal ya if you’ve a mind to let me. Take away the hate and damage caused by both Loman and myself.”

“This will heal me better,” the man said, his visage screwing up and revealing his contempt.

Patrick caught the flash of light off the blade a second too late. When he glanced down in disbelief, it was to see a knife hilt protruding from his chest. Clara’s gasp matched another, but he was damned if he knew where it had originated from.

She gasped again as his body dissolved into a burst of shimmering lights and the knife clanked when it hit the floor.

CHAPTER 29

Fionola’s hand on Patrick’s chest brought him back to his physical form. Shouts from the cottage sought his notice, but he only had eyes for her, as she did for him.

“How did you know I was here and cloaked? And how did you break through my ward?”

“Noah figured it out. He felt your energy.” She smiled as she stroked his jaw. “As for the ward, you left it open for those who love ya, Paddy O.”

“And you instinctively knew that, did ya?” he asked dryly, dipping his knees to accept her sweet, lingering kiss.

“Not if I’m being honest. Fintan told me just as I approached ya.”

The door to the Bohannon home swung open, and Tadhg charged out.

“What happened in there?” she asked as she shifted to put herself in front of him, prepared to face off against her bullheaded brother.

“He stabbed me in the heart.”

She gasped but didn’t turn around, likely already guessing Patrick had astral projected into their kitchen.

“The bastard,” she muttered under her breath, causing him to huff out a laugh.

“Don’t be too hard on him, love. Remember, he went through hell.”

“As did you,” she reminded him over her shoulder. “But you’re not stabbing people in the chest, are ya?”

He opened his mouth to say he wasn’t above it, but Noah and Fintan joined them, creating a protective wall in front of him. The immediate realization that he’d acquired friends floored him. Patrick’s entire life had been a one-man journey. Him against the world. Yet they were all willing to confront a self-righteous prick who was justified in his anger.

Gripping Fionola by the shoulders, he moved her behind him. “I’ll not have you fight my battles, Fi.” He held up a hand. “Before you think I’m being a chauvinist, it has nothing to do with you being a woman—you’re fierce and capable—and everything to do with not putting someone I love in the middle of conflict.”

Her eyes softened.

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