Page 3 of The Seer

“I hate it when you do that,” he grumbled. Deflecting was his specialty, and having it used against him was irritating.

“What?”

“That.Skirt a volatile situation as easily as ya do, ya scut!”

Draven laughed, and the sound was pure magic. Low and throaty, but leaving one in no doubt his amusement was real. “You’re tryin’ to fight me so you don’t have to deal with one petite female? She doesn’t seem threatenin’ to me.”

“You’ll be after tellin’ me why, ya will. And how you know Taryn.” Fintanwasannoyed this time. He may not want her for himself, but he sure as feck didn’t want to see her hook up with Draven. The thought of them together was acid searing his soul, and it burned hotter than expected. Imagining someone else touching her, hearing her laughter, and being the recipient of her affection hollowed him out. If his friend had designs on her, Fintan wanted to know.

With dark-blond brows drawn together in confusion, Draven shook his head.

“Give in now, Fintan. You’re head over heels.”

He didn’t bother to deny it, not when the truth was a rising tide he couldn’t hold back.

“I didn’t say Idon'tcare about her,” Fintan grumbled. “Just that I don’twantto care about her.”

“She’s yourultimate demise?”

“Aye.”

Draven clapped him on the back and grinned. “What a way to go,cher! What a way to go!”

“Sure, and I never got a clear vision of the future with her or why,” Fintan mumbled as he scratched his chest and stared at the offending door.

“What’s all this?” A gravelly male voice asked from behind them.

He didn’t turn around. He’d known five minutes ago Trevor Blane would be joining their group. Next would be Alexander Castor, then Creed Calder. Only Jordan Brothers would be late to this pointless meeting of the Aether’s.

“Our man Fintan is stallin’ for time. He doesn’t want to face what’s on the other side of that door.” Draven smirked triumphantly when Trevor chuckled.

Fintan never wanted to plant another person a facer as badly as he did his long-time friend. He didn’t dignify Draven’s response with a reply. Instead, he charged toward the fecking door. When he raised his hand to knock, it swung open, and the one person he wished to avoid stood there with a welcoming smile on her too-grand face. Her aqua eyes shone brighter than jewels, and the breeze kicked up, as if waiting to caress her, and tossed her titian- and mocha-brown hair with its white-blonde highlights.

He scowled.

She ignored his ire.

“Fintan. Just the man I was hoping to speak with,” she said with a peek over his shoulder at the others. “Hi, Trev. Soleil’s in the greenhouse if you want to stop before breakfast. Damian is running a little late. Baby Nate was fussy.”

“Sure, and did we need a rundown of his bleedin’ problems?” Fintan grumbled. “The man could’ve texted and delayed the feckin’ meeting.”

“Don’t mind him,cher. He’s been in a bad mood since birth.” Draven pushed past him and kissed Taryn on the cheek. “Thank you for lettin’ us know.”

Her responding grin was like pure sunshine illuminating the faerie-blessed green fields ofÉire, and it caused Fintan’s heart to pound harder. The urge to turn and run was hard fought, and despite his misgivings, he crossed the threshold of her home.

The ancestors had something to say about it, and his body seized.

When Fintan regained consciousness, he was lying on the floor, and half the household, along with his fellow Sentinels, were peering down at him. It took a precious extra minute to realize his head was cradled in Taryn’s lap, and she was stroking his hair back from his hot forehead. The realization lit a fire under his ass, and he jumped to his feet so fast it was sure to insult her.

Taryn sighed in disappointment.Not at Fintan. He was doing what he’d always done when it came to avoiding her. No, the frustration was directed at herself. Once again, she’d let down her guard, and Fintan Sullivan had stomped all over her tender feelings. The jerk couldn’t scramble away fast enough.

For the span of a heartbeat, she met his tormented gaze.

And wasn’t that the problem? When he wasn’t eyeing her like she was about to steal the silver, he looked at her like he wanted to eat her up. His intense expression put naughty thoughts in a girl’s head and fed her dreams. It also made one wonder what kept them apart when his desire was apparent for all to see.

He still possessed a rockstar quality after all these years. His stance, seemingly casual, was commanding, and his body—oh, Goddess that fucking body!—had muscles to spare. Though not overly tall, he was built like a prizefighter with biceps putting a spinached-up Popeye to shame.

“May I speak with you in private?” she asked him.

---