Page 23 of Beer & Broomsticks

Aeden laughed as only a small child could, clear and without restraint. His voice still had a raspy quality, but it didn’t seem to pain him to talk as it once had. “You’re bigger than him, you are!”

Leaning in as if to impart a secret, Ronan said with a stage whisper, “Well, yeah, but he’s got more fat around the middle, don’t ya think? Perhaps a little more mutton for brains if we’re to be honest.”

The child’s bright green eyes danced with his merriment as he snuck a look at Quentin. “I think he’s all right.”

“Well, I suppose if you like him, I’ll be givin’ him a chance, I will.” He rested a hand on Aeden’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m happy to see ya healed, boyo. But you’ll be promising me here and now you’ll not be going up against anyone in my family again, yeah?”

Some of the happiness left Aeden, and his eyes turned solemn. “I promise, Ronan. Anu said to leave it to you, and I will, but I don’t want you to be hurt either.”

Nerves ate Ronan’s insides. The only reason the child would say something of that nature was because the outcome of Ronan’s battle with his relations was questionable at best. He drew Aeden in for a quick, tight hug. “You’ll not worry about me, yeah? I’m resilient and inclined to save my own skin when the need arises.” Standing, he ruffled Aeden’s golden hair. “You’d make a man proud to call you son, boyo.”

Beaming, Aeden darted off as quickly as he arrived. The moment he was out of sight, Ronan’s forced smile fell from his face, and he addressed the others as he stared at the empty space where Aeden had been, tone as tough as steel. “Loman and Moira must be stopped at all costs. I’ll not let Aeden suffer again.”

CHAPTER10

Bridget swallowed her tea wrong the second she spotted Ronan walk into the room. She hadn’t been prepared for such a beautiful man. In her mind, she’d build him up to be a monster, but the person in front of her possessed kind eyes. Eerie with the flash of silver, but kind, all the same. A memory tried to make itself known, like a pesky fly buzzing about her, but she couldn’t recall where she might’ve met him.

His gaze flitted around the room as if he were marking all the exits for later use. A single glance allowed him to sum up all the occupants and weigh the threat.

What must his life be like that he always needed to be on guard?

After rising and placing her tea cup on the table, she approached him. It was disconcerting to realize she only came up to his armpit. With grim determination and a whole lot of trepidation, she held out her hand.

“Welcome to the Black Cat.” His large hand swallowed hers, and she felt the small zing that told her despite what the others had said about him losing his magic, he still had enough to cause trouble. “It’s thanks I owe you for helping Roisin and my nephew,” she said. Fairness dictated she offer that much.

“You owe me nothing, Bridget O’Malley, and believe me, you’ll prefer it that way.” His warm smile could be felt to her toes, and she released a girly sigh. She hadn’t realized she still held his hand until Ruairí separated them with great purpose, keeping his arm around her, lest she be unable to control herself in the presence of their company.

Ronan’s wicked laugh nearly took her out at the knees, and she understood where his true power lay. His charm. Just like Quentin, he possessed a lethal side disguised by a tantalizing smile. Two such men in one place was enough to make a woman lightheaded.

Roisin and Holly sent her understanding looks, and Bridget poured them more tea in an attempt to compose herself.

“I’ve a mind for something stronger if you have it,” Ronan said with a grimace. “I’ve a lot to impart, and it isn’t all pleasant. None of it is in fact.”

“Sure, and stronger you’ll have,” Carrick said, walking to the sideboard to grab the whiskey and enough glasses for everyone present. After everyone was served, he sank down on the arm of his wife’s chair, absently caressing her neck. “You should just come out with it, man. Makes it easier all around.”

With a silent toast of his whiskey tumbler, Ronan downed the contents and closed his eyes to savor the burn. Bridget noted the fine lines around his eyes and mouth, as if he had once laughed frequently but now wore a grim expression much of the time. For a man like him, on the run from the only family he’d known, his existence was grim indeed.

He lifted his lids and pinned her with a stare, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. A shiver ran through her, and she inched closer to Ruairí for added warmth. The gesture wasn’t lost on Ronan, and he looked between the two of them with a faint smile, one that seemed to mock her, although she didn’t understand why.

Focusing on Carrick, Ronan said, “I don’t know how much Ruairí has told ya, but my father has escaped from the Witches’ Council prison and is in the wind. He’s the worst of our lot, and lethal to boot.”

Her brother glared at Ruairí. “He’s told us nothing.”

“That’s not true.” Bridget placed a hand on Ruairí’s knee in a show of support. “He told me about Loman O’Connor when he arrived, but we’ve not had a chance to talk to the rest of you about it with the exception of Dubheasa.”

“Why the delay, Bridg?” Roisin asked quietly. “Seems that’s something we should’ve known right away, yeah?”

How did Bridget tell the others she’d been so tangled up in Ruairí’s presence, she forgot all about the threat? It was an eejit move to leave them all in the dark as she had.

“Aye, and I’ve no good excuse, but I suppose I’d hoped to find the Sword of Goibhniu first. Maybe solve the last part of the puzzle so we could have our rightful abilities fully restored.”

“Jaysus!” Carrick jumped to his feet in an explosion of anger and movement. “Why in the Goddess’s name would you go off on your own to find that feckin’ thing? You’ve no magic, Bridg. You could’ve gotten yourself killed. It’s a fool move, is what it is!”

Anger coursed through her. She’d been cleaning up his boneheaded messes her entire life, and he had the nerve to take her to task for trying to resolve the prophecy?

“Sure, and exactly why would you think I’d go off on my own? I intended to take Ruairí all along. He has more magic thanyouto protect me, and he’s had it longer.”

She felt him stiffen under her hand, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she’d used him to insult her brother or because, in her anger, she’d squeezed too tight. Taking her hand in his, he entwined their fingers then placed a kiss on her knuckles. “I’ll always protect you,mo ghrá,” he assured her.

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