Page 29 of Beer & Broomsticks

A feeling of unease settled between his shoulders, and he suddenly didn’t want her out of his sight. “Will you stay close tonight, Bridg? Let one of the others man the bar.”

In typical Bridget fashion, she took umbrage. “I’ll not be shunning my chores, Ruairí O’Connor, and scarlet is your mam that you’d think I would.”

“Christ, she’s stunning,” Castor exclaimed as she stalked away.

“And a right pain in my arse most days,” Ruairí muttered. “Looks like I’ll be pourin’ drinks at the pub tonight if you’ll be needing me.”

The other men laughed as he hurried after Bridget.

He caught up with her at the bottom of the staircase, and she gave him an arch look.

“I thought you had a meeting with the man upstairs and Ronan.”

“Someone’s squatting on my grave, and the chill has reached my bones. ’Tis a feeling from boyhood, a warning of sorts. I’ll not be letting you out of my sight tonight.”

Her expression softened. “Ruairí, go do what you must. I’ve been taking care of my family and myself for more years than I care to count. I’ll be grand.”

“No.”

Brows almost to her hairline and mouth opened in a shocked O, she stared at him like she was seeing a stranger. And perhaps she was. Ruairí wasn’t the type to be insistent and was mellow most days, but when it came to her safety, he wasn’t having it.

She surprised him when she didn’t argue. Again, her eyes warmed to a lighter green and a tender smile curled her full lips. “All right. You’ll be my bodyguard for the night.”

The tension drained out of him, and he drew her into a grateful hug. “Thank you,mo ghrá.The wee hairs on the back of my neck have been tinglin’ since Moira showed her hand in the alley. I can’t seem to shake this feeling of doom plaguing me.”

“I’ve had those feelings. I like to think they are warnings from the Goddess. She looks out for her own.”

“Aye.”

* * *

Alex watchedfrom the railing above. Seemed the O’Connors had produced one decent fruit from the batch of rotten apples. He liked the young man’s pluck and determination. Spirit like his deserved reward.

Perhaps that was why his son had called him. Having recognized the remarkable resemblance between Ronan and him, Quentin needed the puzzle solved. Of course, the boy would cut off his left arm rather than admit to needing him, but Quentin was smart enough to know when he required backup. With a family to protect, he wouldn’t embroil himself in someone else’s war without assurances he could win.

That’s where Alex came in. He was known to wage wars single-handedly with no care for his own safety. When you had nothing to lose, it was easy to put your life on the line. For his son, he’d do it, too.

“He doesn’t deserve the life he’s been handed,” Ronan said quietly from beside him. “He’s the best of us.”

“I was thinking along similar lines.” Alex faced him. “But I suspect you sell yourself short, Ronan.”

“No. I’m little better than the others, and I’ll save my own arse first. Never forget it, yeah?”

Ronan reminded him of a small child trying out his bravado. He wasn’t boastful or arrogant in a way that mattered, but he didn’t want anyone to expect better of him. Quentin had gone through a similar stage before meeting Holly. Perhaps a woman would eventually be the making of the man in front of him.

“I won’t forget. I think it’s time we had a drink and you told me about your father. Last I heard, he was in a Council cell and they were preparing him for execution.”

Ronan cut a sharp look his way. “The execution is news to me. It’s a crying shame they didn’t carry through with it, all the same.”

“Isn’t it, though.”

Halting Ronan before he would’ve descended the stairs, Alex shook his head. “We no longer go anywhere without altering our appearance. Also, we stick to crowded areas. If we go to the pub, we pretend to be the hired help, enter through the back door, and blend with the locals.”

Comprehension dawned in his nephew’s intelligent eyes. “To make it harder to track us with his blood. By blending, we’ll be more difficult to pick out of the crowd.”

“Exactly. He’ll get a general location but not be able to scry and spy on us. Especially if we put Granny Thorne’s cloaking spell to good use.” He grinned. “I stole that one from Alastair, but if you tell him, I’ll deny it and blame it on Quentin.”

“NowI see more of the resemblance to my da,” Ronan said dryly.

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