Page 45 of Whiskey & Witches
Dropping her head, she swung a foot back and forth, stirring the grass by the root of the tree with the tip of her bare toes. “I’m sorry, Papa.”
“Doubtful,” Damian said with a laugh. “Go find your mother, Beastie. Ronan and I must talk.”
A mischievous grin curled her lips, and she gave Ronan the type of flirty look that only a manipulative seven-year-old girl could. “Save the Golden Son,” she ordered in a stage whisper.
Before he could respond, she was off and running, her dirty bare feet flying across the expanse of lawn as she headed toward the house.
“Here, I don’t envy you when she becomes a teenager, Dethridge.”
“For over two hundred years, I never had one strand of grey. Now, I feel them sprouting on my head daily.” Damian held out a hand. “It’s good to see you again, O’Connor.”
“You, too, my friend. And if I didn’t know you had a wild child gadding about, it’s been way too long.”
“For safety’s sake, Beastie isn’t common knowledge.”
“You really call her Beastie?” Ronan laughed. “That’s solid craic. And not a soul will hear about her from my lips,” he promised.
“Now, how about we get to why you’re here? As delightful as this visit has already been, I’m not a fool to believe you’re here because you missed me.”
Damian Dethridge was smaller than Ronan by at least six inches. Dressed in a grey shirt and black trousers that probably cost more than most people’s vehicle payment, the Aether was the picture of class. His black hair was always stylishly cut and his face freshly shaved, lending to the air of elegance.
“I’ve come to dump my problems at your door, man. And I hope you’ll take mercy on me. I need advice and likely backup should the Thornes and O’Malleys decide to retaliate.”
“You started a war?”
The dangerous Aether took the place of his life-long friend, and Ronan had a moment’s pause. “Not intentionally,” he finally said. “But I fear that’s where this is headed if we don’t stop it, and soon.”
Damian Dethridge had beenmany things in his life, but no one could ever consider him a fool. Although he hated to get in the middle of warring families, it was essentially his job as the Aether to do so and to keep the magical community balanced as a whole.
From his study window, he had watched as Ronan worked up the courage to approach the house, only to have Sabrina seek the man out before he could drum up his nerve. Knowing Ronan wouldn’t be a threat to his daughter, Damian had taken his time joining them, hoping Beastie’s unique brand of charm could put his friend at ease before he reached them. He should’ve known better than to think his daughter could keep her predictions to herself.
“Tell me, O’Connor. Who is the Golden Son? Alastair Thorne?”
“No. It’s from the O’Malley prophecy.”
Ronan ran a hand through his hair and looked out over the vast expanse of the Dethridge estate. Damian had a sense the man didn’t see anything.
“What’s going on, Ronan?” Though his voice was velvety soft, it was lined with steel. “I need to know if I’m to help.”
Seeming older than his forty-plus years, his friend faced him, and his haggard expression spoke volumes. “I’d never make war on women and children, but apparently my family has no qualms about it.”
Fury coursed through Damian. He hated conflict as a whole, and it was shit like grudges and wars that made his life difficult. After two centuries, all he wanted was a peaceful existence with his small family. Yet trouble always came knocking on his door.
“Who was hurt in their war?” His tone was deadly, and Ronan took a step back, rubbing his neck and looking wary.
“Can you rein it in, man? That anger shite ain’t comfortable.”
Damian made a concerted effort to contain his emotions. He was well aware how other people could feel his more powerful emotions like a slap to the face. It stung them when the tentacles of his magic reached out and struck.
“I ask again, O’Connor. Who was hurt in their war?”
“First, let me quote you the prophecy.” Clearing his throat, Ronan continued. “It starts with,When the mighty Thorne pricks the heart of the Frozen, the end shall start in motion.And to the best of my understandin’, that part was fulfilled when Piper Thorne saved Cian O’Malley a few months back.”
Damian nodded absently. Later, he’d confirm with the O’Malleys what went on, but for now, he’d accept Ronan’s story at face value. “The next line?”
“It states,When the Golden Son sacrifices for the One, only then can the curse be undone.”
“Who is the Golden Son, and who is the One?”
