Page 52 of Beer & Broomsticks

The sound of silence registered on them both, and they turned to see the entire room of people, goddesses included, watching them in varying stages of disbelief and amusement.

A side glance showed Bridget’s cheeks were flushed, and Ruairí couldn’t help but chuckle. “Scarlet is your mam for yellin’ at me like ya did,” he whispered.

His comment earned him a side pinch, and he laughed outright. Goddess, he loved a feisty woman.

Bridget rolledher hand in a gesture for the others to continue their discussion. If Ruairí hadn’t been plaguing her with questions, she might know what was going on with the others. But like always, he was the perfect distraction. His mere presence could make her forget herself most times.

“No tomb, Ronan O’Connor,” Isis said. “Should you choose to accept our offer, you’ll be the Guardian of the next generation of children. The three Fates have warned us there is a potential for war in the years to come, a war the likes to make that of the Désorcelers society seem tame. You and your mate will play a vital role in training those with powerful magic and seeing to it they are on the right side of that war.”

“Mate?” Bridget asked, unable to help herself. “He’s mate-less at the moment, he is.”

Anu’s lips twitched and dimples appeared in her porcelain-smooth skin, making her even more beautiful than she first appeared. “He will not be long without a mate.” Her brilliant green eyes swept the length of Bridget’s body and came to rest on her face. “Would you care to fulfill the position?”

Speechless, Bridget stared at Anu. How did she insult a goddess by saying as fit as Ronan was, he didn’t appeal to her half as much as the man sitting beside her?

“Fuck no!”

She breathed out a sigh of relief at Ruairí’s emphatic response and tightly gripped his hand.

A wink accompanied Anu’s knowing smile. “I thought not.”

“I’m crushed, to be sure,” Ronan said dryly.

“Hush, you plonker,” Bridget said with a laugh. “You’re not disappointed in the least, and you know it. You’d live in fear of me every day of your worthless life.”

He grinned. “You don’t speak for me, Bridget O’Malley. But you’d have made a formidable Guardian.”

The second it registered on her that she’d have been granted powerful magic, she dropped Ruairí’s hand and stood. “Wait! Does this mean I’ll not have abilities at all, then?”

With a sexy swish of her hips, Isis was at her side and tucking a stray strand of Bridget’s hair behind her ear. “It doesn’t mean that at all, Beloved. No need to sacrifice yourself to gain your rightful power.”

“Sacrifice?” Ronan said indignantly, apparently still smarting over the decree he was to be called into service. “I’ll have ya know—”

Isis waved a hand, and the rest of his words were choked off. Alastair’s muffled laughter gained him an arch look in reprimand, but he was completely unrepentant. She continued as if she were never interrupted. “That will come when you fulfill the rest of the prophecy.”

With a lingering look at the sword resting against the sofa’s side, Bridget muttered, “I thought I had.” Despite her personal feelings for Ruairí in the past, she’d allowed small concessions like entry to her pub, giving him a job—although that benefited her more than anyone else—and access to her inn.

“No, dearest, you haven’t. You will need to open your heart for that to happen,” Isis told her in a low voice. “There lies your true magic, and once found, it will never go away.”

But I can’t trust him with my heart, she thought silently.

“You can,” Isis said aloud, startling Bridget with her ability to read minds. “You’ve only to trust yourself and what you feel.”

With a helplessness she couldn’t shake, she stared at Isis, wishing she knew how to get beyond the overwhelming sense of dread and the terror of another betrayal. Maybe it was because she lovedtoomuch that she feared opening the gate.

Isis gave her a tender smile.

That’s when it occurred to Bridget the prophecy had nothing to do with the physical “gate” to their garden and everything to do with the one guarding the secret place where her soul resided. She closed her eyes in resignation. Either she had to trust Ruairí, or she had to let him go and any chance of magic with him. She almost laughed, and bitter the sound would be if she did. Loman O’Connor was closer to winning than he knew, and he didn’t need to do a feckin’ thing to make it happen.

She felt the heat of Ruairí at her back when he rose and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Close enough to have heard everything, he offered her the support she didn’t know she needed.

“I believe you will come to the right decision and be happier for it, Bridget O’Malley,” Isis said kindly. “But should you choose a different path, your life will be as fulfilling. This is my promise to you.”

“Thank you, Exalted One.” Bridget bowed her head, overwhelmed and grateful for the choice. Beside her, she felt Ruairí stiffen, but he remained silent. They’d yet to finish the discussion they’d started in her room, and things were left unresolved. The atmosphere was heavy with his disappointment.

Isis smiled at him, and her expression was filled with gentle understanding. “All will be well, Ruairí O’Connor. Trust the process.”

His steady regard brought Bridget’s head up, and they locked gazes. “There’s only one way this will be well, but I’ll not stay where I’m not wanted.”

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