Page 26 of Beer & Broomsticks
She gave him a dubious look. “What Ronan had to say.”
Scrubbing his hands over his face, weary to the bone, Ruairí admitted he hadn’t been listening.
“Your crafty cousin has been tracking Loman through his finances and putting the squeeze on dear old da by hacking into his investment accounts.” She grinned, and Ruairí experienced a twinge of jealousy toward Ronan that she admired him so. “With his magic not one hundred percent, Loman has no way of correcting the hack.”
“Which makes my uncle even more dangerous!” Ruairí was angry at his cousin’s lack of insight. “Loman will strike sooner rather than later, to be sure, and we all need to be prepared. Without the finances to keep him afloat and hidden from the Council, he’ll make a play for your power. And I’d be surprised if Moira hasn’t already told him of our connection.”
All traces of amusement died from Bridget’s face to be replaced by worry. “Then we need to get Piper, Aeden, and the twins to safety.”
“Where will they be safe from the very devil?”
With a wary look around, she lifted his arm and pushed back the sleeve of his jumper. With the tip of one nail, she traced letters onto his arm: T H O R N E S. He nodded his understanding, drawing his sleeve back down and grabbing her hand, pulling her in close enough to whisper.
“If I’m not mistaken, there was jewelry created for all of you to communicate without words, yeah? Let’s put them back into play, so we have the advantage should anyone be listenin’ in.”
Looking up at him, she nodded and mouthed,thank you.
I love you,he mouthed in return.
Some of her tension drained away, and the smile she graced him with was soft and affectionate. The smile of older, wiser Bridget, and one more valuable in his opinion because those were harder to come by.
* * *
Ronan was expecting the visit,so when Quentin showed up, he wasn’t surprised. “You could’ve knocked.”
The other man shrugged and proceeded to meander about the room with its ample space, touching things as if he’d never seen everyday trinkets before.
Ronan toed off his shoes and folded his arms behind his head as he leaned back against the headboard. “Will you be gettin’ to the reason for this little meetin’ sometime today?”
With Quentin in profile, it was easy to see the flash of his grin before it disappeared. Just as Ronan suspected, the man was toying with him.
“What do you know about your ancestry, O’Connor?”
“It’s a long one, filled with gobshites.”
Again, the other man grinned. “Fair enough. Anything else?”
“Why don’t you save us both the time, friend, and tell me what you want me to know, yeah?”
“Can’t do that. I’m waiting on someone else to kick off thislittlemeetin’of yours.”
“Sure, and you do a passable accent. It’ll amuse those ignorant of the real thing.”
Quentin laughed off the insult. “I find myself liking you in an odd way. I suppose that will be a good thing if what I suspect is true.”
Dropping his arms and all pretense of casualness, Ronan leaned forward and drew on all those vicious years of training he’d received. Tone as frigid as an arctic evening, he said, “Get to the point, man. I’ll not be toyed with.”
As he approached the foot of the bed, Quentin did away with all the games. “I noticed your resemblance to someone close to me right away. I wanted to see what you both have to say about it.”
Right when Ronan opened his mouth to reply, the air around him became heavy and sparked with magic. The sharp crackle sounded like professional fireworks on an American holiday weekend. He wasted no time standing and preparing for battle. Only his father had magic enough to cause that type of entrance.
Quentin, on the other hand, didn’t appear fazed in the least. In fact, he looked as if he found the entire thing hilarious.
A ripple in the fabric of the space around them opened, and a blinding light poured into the room, forcing Ronan to shield his eyes or go blind. When the brilliant glow faded, Loman was standing next to Quentin, and Ronan’s stomach dropped below his bollocks.
“You told me you didn’t know my father, you fucking maggot!”
“And I don’t.” Quentin gestured to the man next to him. “This is mine.”
