Page 73 of Whiskey & Witches

Although Roisin caught movement in her peripheral, she didn’t take her eyes from Moira to check Damian’s progress. “You’re outnumbered, Moira. Give it up, and I won’t kill you like I did your evil cousin.”

Wrong thing to say.

Moira snarled, and the report of the gun sounded.

Distantly, Roisin heard a man shout, and she had the impression it was Carrick’s voice.

Damian was beside her in an instant, but Moira was already gone.

With frantic hands, Roisin patted her chest and abdomen, then her face and scalp. She hadn’t felt the punch of an impact, but her adrenaline was high.

“Looking for this?” Damian asked, holding up a small metal object.

“How… why… how…?” She looked down at the bullet and then up into his amused eyes.

“I’m the Aether.”

He shot a look around, and she assumed it was to see if Moira hadn’t gone far. Placing a warm hand on her lower back, he guided her toward the street. “Let’s get you home.”

Carrick ageda lifetime in the minutes it took Damian to cross the road and bring Roisin back.

“What the fucking hell do you think you were doing?” Carrick yelled when she was secure within his embrace. “Are ya mad, Ro? You’d take on a killer with no concern for your own safety?”

“Carrick, I’m fine.”

“Sure, and it’s no thanks to your recklessness, now is it?” He gripped her head between his palms and stared down into her beautiful, beloved face, unable to relay how frantic he’d been when she disappeared the way she had. “You could’ve been killed, Ro,” he whispered harshly. “Then what would I have done?” She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “I’ll tell ya! I’d have lost my fecking mind for good. My heart would be a pile of dust, and every time the wind blew, the particles would surf the current, looking but never finding you.”

He gave her a shake. “Don’t ever go after that bleedin’ bitch again, yeah?”

“Carrick—”

“You’ll not be getting around it with your soft-spoken ‘Carrick’. Right now, you’ll promise me, Ro.”

“I can’t make that promise,” she said, her voice full of regret.

His heart seized, and he knew she’d do it again if it meant protecting Aeden. And he couldn’t fault her for it because he’d do the same. Frustrated beyond measure, he dragged her close and tucked her face in his throat as he rested his cheek on her golden riot of curls. “You’ll be the death of me, pet.”

“Let’s not talk about death,” Damian said dryly. “Not unless it’s Moira’s.”

“She needs to be stopped,” Carrick told him.

“She will be.” Damian ruffled Aeden’s blond hair and smiled down at him. “But I suspect she’ll never get the drop on your family again. Between Anu giving early warnings to Aeden and Roisin’s premonitions, I think you’ll be just fine.”

“Premonitions?” Carrick drew back and looked down at Roisin. “What premonition is he talking about, Ro?”

She shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “He might’ve given me a gift yesterday.”

“Might’ve or did?”

“Did.”

With a snort, he caressed her cheek. “Then it’s glad I am of it. But I forbid you to go after her again.” When her brows shot up, he cursed himself for a fool. “Here, and what I meant to say, is that I wish you would consider Aeden and not go after her again,” Carrick amended.

Damian laughed. “Seems like you have everything under control here, Mr. O’Malley. I’ll be in touch.”

With that, the Aether was gone, and Carrick was left alone with his wife and son. He opened his arms to them, and they rushed into his embrace. He never intended to let them go again.

EPILOGUE

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