“How’s Vivian?” Ronan asked Damian after they’d dialed him in for a conference call.
“Well. As is baby Nate.” The pride in his friend’s voice told Ronan everything he needed to know; Damian Dethridge was as smitten with his newborn son as he was with his wife and young daughter, Sabrina. “I apologize for not attending this meeting in person, but I’m not leaving Vivian when she needs me.”
“And if I’m remembering correctly, it’s Sabrina’s birthday today, too,” Ronan said.
“As if Beastie was ever going to let you forget.” Damian’s dry response was followed by a chuckle. “I’m to take her to pick out two puppies tomorrow, if you can believe it.”
“Ah, yeah, she had me escorting her to Baz’s place a time or ten to see them. But two? Are ya mad, man? No one in their right mind should be adopting two pups at the same time.”
He met Dubheasa’s laughing gaze across the table and shook his head. The things the Aether did to spoil his daughter boggled the mind.
Damian’s soft snort came through the line. “Yes. I’m completely insane, or so Viv assures me. A newborn and two puppies? I’ve completely lost it. Send help.”
Everyone, including Trevor Blane, laughed in unison.
A moment later, Damian sighed. “I suppose we should shelve the talk of my family and turn the discussion to yours, Ronan. Does anyone have eyes on Loman?”
“Not yet. He’s somehow managed to stay off the deities’ radar as well as all of ours.”
“It’s never a good sign when the Goddess can’t unearth his whereabouts,” Damian agreed.
Dubheasa leaned forward. “How is that possible? How can one man walk through the portal of the Otherworld, not once but twice, after being stripped of his powers, and still escape detection?”
“If I knew, he would be in hell right now.” Damian’s tone was as grim as Ronan had ever heard it. “That’s why I’ve brought Blane into this. Trevor, are you prepared to do what is necessary?”
“Aren’t I always?” Trevor asked with a coolly amused look for the rest of them. “I’ve spoken to my brother, Simon. He’s prepared to accept the abilities you discussed earlier this year. I’m going to pull him in for backup since my father is once again in the wind.” For a second, he looked uncomfortable, as if the next part of the discussion was going to be a big ask. “Dethridge, should anything happen to me on this mission, I ask that you please see my brother is trained thoroughly and that his wife, Evelyn, doesn’t suffer any of the side effects from his gift as a Death Dealer. Heal her when or if she needs it.”
“It will be done.”
“Thank you. Who else are we expecting to join our manhunt?” Trevor asked.
“Fintan Sullivan will work with Sabrina to determine the various outcomes of our plans. Alexander Castor has a stake in all of this. He is flitting about space and time as we speak, trying to dig up information or get a lock on Loman’s location.”
Trevor shot Ronan a questioning look.
“Castor is my uncle, twin to my father. He’s likely using his blood as a divining tool,” Ronan explained. “He’s probably the only one able to find the fecker, other than me.”
“You’ve bled enough last week while searching for him,” Dubheasa said, although she looked uncomfortable showing any sign of caring about his welfare.
“Ah, Dove. It warms me puir heart when ya turn all loving, the way you have.”
With an arch look that told him to pound salt and die, she turned her attention back to Trevor. “If I’m after understanding this plan, you’re going to be the one to stop Loman for good by obliterating his soul and making it so he can’t return again.”
“That’s the goal.” Trevor rubbed the back of his neck. “But the trick is going to be finding and containing him long enough for that to happen.”
“That’s where Alex and Ronan come in,” Damian replied. “Alastair Thorne also has his network of spies kicking over stones. We’ll find him.”
Bridget placed a tea tray on the table and gestured for them all to dig into the biscuits and small sandwiches. “It’s our slow season at the inn. If any of your team needs lodging, we’ll put them up here. Same goes for you, Trevor Blane.”
After shooting a glance Dubheasa’s way, Trevor smiled at Bridget. “Thank you, Ms. O’Malley. The offer is appreciated.”
“But you’ll not be sharing Dove’s bed, all the same,” Ronan growled.
As one, they turned to stare at him with varying degrees of horror. Trevor’s was more like horrified amusement.
“Way to stake your claim, fella.”
Ronan leaned forward to emphasize his point. “I’ve been pretty fecking clear from the moment we met, fella.”
Dubheasa literally growled. “Ronan O’Connor, I swear—”
“No murdering each other until Loman is a long-forgotten memory, please,” Damian said, laughter heavy in his tone. “And on another note, Ronan, have you discovered where your cousin Reggie disappeared to? I want to know if his participation in Loman’s death and subsequent escape was intentional.”
Meeting and holding Dubheasa’s worried gaze, Ronan nodded. “Reggie called Eoin and Brenna when we were all sequestered together. Look, I may be wrong here, but I’d say his move in planting that arrow squarely in my father’s chest was impulsive, not thought out.”
“Aye. He wasn’t about showing remorse, but he wasn’t boasting about helping Loman escape, either,” Dubheasa added.
“That’s one load off my mind.” A muffled cry sounded from Damian’s side of the call. “I believe Nate is hungry, my friends. We can pick this back up when Alex and the others get there.”
“Sure, and who are we to be expecting?” Bridget asked.
“I’ll text you the names. They aren’t due to arrive until tomorrow afternoon. With that, I’ll bid you good nigh—”
A second later, Sabrina Dethridge’s sweet young voice came through the line. “Ronan?”
“I’m here, ya wee wild beastie. What will you have of me this time?”
“I just wanted you to know about the puppies. Did Papa tell you we are picking them up tomorrow?”
Ronan grinned. “Aye, he did. And it’s excited he is for it.”
She giggled, and it was a glorious sound, causing those around their table to smile. “You’re so funny, Ronan. But I’m going to have Baz save you one, too. The one with the floppy ears that you said Dove would—”
“That’ll be grand,” Ronan said, trying to cut her off before she revealed his next step in wooing Dubheasa. Didn’t all females love puppies?
“Aye, they do,” Dubheasa replied with a twinkle in her eye. When he frowned, so did she. “What?”
“I didn’t say it aloud, Dove. But there you went, answering my question without me askin’ it.”
“But you did ask…” Her eyes widened as their group collectively shook their heads. “I can hear your thoughts?”
“It’s because you’re going to be his mate, Miss Dove. Guardians can do that,” Sabrina informed her proudly, not realizing she’d caused Dubheasa’s blood pressure to shoot alarmingly high and her face to turn a worrisome shade of fuchsia.
“I am not going to be his mate!”
But Sabrina had already hung up, secure in her prediction.
Sinking her head in her hands, Dubheasa let out a guttural yell.
“Yeah, and it’s a good thing the Black Cat is empty,” Bridget said with a laugh. “Otherwise, we’d be trying to explain the banshees haunting the place.” She rose to her feet and patted Ronan’s shoulder. “It’s late, and you’ll be wanting to rest for what’s to come with your da. When you’re done with your tea, have Dubheasa show you to room number six. I think it will suit your needs.”
“The one I had last time was fine.”
“Pfft. Your feet hung off the end of the bed. Sure, and we’ve got a proper mattress for you now.” When Ronan would’ve opened his mouth to thank her, she waved him off and said, “It was Ruairí’s suggestion, so save your thanks for him. I’ve a pub to run.”
“I’ll escort you and Mr. O’Connor back through the alley,” Trevor said as he rose to his feet and placed his napkin beside his plate. He held up a hand when she would’ve argued. “Please. Damian assigned me to this mission for a reason. If he didn’t believe Loman was lurking in the vicinity, he would never have called me in this soon.”
Bridget graced him with a warm smile. “We’ll gladly accept your escort, then.”
Ronan stared into his full teacup, wondering when he’d poured it.
“My sister did,” Dubheasa said absently, then jerked, her eyes flying wide. “I did it again, didn’t I?”
With a rueful half smile, Ronan nodded.
“Aw, fecking hell!” Dropping her forehead onto her folded arms, she groaned. “This is going to be torture.”
Her words struck him with the weight of a sledgehammer. If she truly wanted nothing more to do with him, it would be torturous for her to be on the receiving end of his thoughts. Having been forced into a life he’d not wanted as head of his clan, having to police his mad cousins and try to mitigate the damage they caused at every turn, Ronan knew what it was to suffer through a life not of his own choosing. Dubheasa didn’t deserve that, and in the end, he’d free her from it when he could if she hadn’t changed her mind.
But there was one benefit to their connection.
“It doesn’t have to be, love.” Risking a severed limb, he reached for her hand. “It could benefit us when my father comes. And we should be testing the distance while we have the chance.”
She rolled her head enough to look at their joined hands, seemingly content to let him touch her for the moment. “Did you know this would happen? The telepathy?”
“No. Every day brings a new talent with this job.”
She met his steady gaze. “Does it bother you? Caring for the Aether’s daughter?”
“Not anymore. But the thought of it terrified the shite right out of me when the Goddess first mentioned it.”
“And the process to receive such ultimate magic? I heard tell it was painful.”
After a squeeze of her hand, he released her. “Aye, Dove, it was. And it’s why your decision isn’t a light one. I’ll not blame you for rejecting me or the job, yeah?”
Her head came up in her surprise, and she touched his wrist. “Thank you.”
The gratitude in her eyes made his stomach flip. He’d thought to change her mind, eventually seduce her, and remind her of their epic chemistry. But it seemed the idea of them as a couple was completely repellent to her, and that, he couldn’t abide.
“I’ll state it plain to you now. I love ya, Dubheasa O’Malley. More than I’ve ever loved another. But I’ll not pressure you anymore, because I see it’s not what you’re wanting.” He downed his tea and stood. “How about we find our rooms, and tomorrow we start fresh?”
Climbing to her feet, she touched his arm a second time, and Ronan tried like hell not to read anything into the gesture.
“Ronan, about Trevor—”
“Aw fuck, Dove! I don’t want to hear the man’s name right now.”
He’d shoved back his chair and had almost reached the door when she said, “All I was going to say was that I’ll not be shagging him.”
Ronan stopped short, not daring to turn. The other shoe was about to drop. It always did for him. Ronan Fucking O’Connor wasn’t allowed things like hope or optimism.
“I’ll not be shagging him or thinking about him or any of the things to upset you while we’re sharing this link, yeah?”
Her words held an echo, and it surprised him to realize she’d communicated through their new mental connection.
“Thank you,” he said gruffly. “That’s all I can ask.”
Once again, he started to leave, and once again, she called to him.
This time, he turned, and the amusement on her face caused him to suck in a breath at the beauty of it. Like witnessing art in its purest form, was her expressive face.
“Don’t ya want to be knowing which room is yours, then?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“Your sister said six. And I just thought I’d open all the bleedin’ doors until I found the one with a bed fit for a giant.”