“The sigils we created still seem to be holding. I suggest we all put a patch on before we go hunting because we have no idea what its capabilities are. It can mess with minds, and it might be strong enough that we don’t need to be asleep for it to use illusions against us.”
“How can we kill it if we find it?” Lachlan asked.
“The stories never mentioned anything working except warning people not to fall asleep near rivers,” Bridget replied. “If it’s strong enough to possess bodies, it might go down with a bullet to the head like a normal human would.”
Lachlan nodded. “Easy enough. We can make the bullet silver just to be sure.”
“If it can possess people, what makes you think it won’t just jump into its spirit form as soon as its host dies?” Valentine said, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful look on his face. “How about we carve some locking sigils on the bullets? Once it’s been shot with one, the magic will keep it from body jumping.”
Bridget frowned. “It still might not kill it. Just lock it in a decomposing corpse.”
“Least we will know where it is,” Valentine replied, a feral glint in his eye. “I have a spirit box I can modify that might act as a good permanent prison for it.”
Apollo made a choking sound. “What the fuck are you doing with a spirit box? Why would you make such a thing?”
“I don’t know? To see if I could. I thought the medieval guys were full of shit but turns out they really could make them. I followed their instructions.”
“Jesus, Val,” Reeve muttered.
Valentine rolled his eyes. “What? I wasn’t going to use it, but I suppose it’s a good thing I never threw it out either, isn’t it?”
Kenna cleared her throat. “For the uninitiated, what the fuck is a spirit box?”
“It’s a device that can trap someone’s—or something’s—spirit like a djinn in a lamp,” Cosimo explained, frowning at Valentine. “Unscrupulous magicians in the past have used them as power sources to fuel spells.”
“Charming,” Kenna said dryly. “And you think this box thing can hold something like a Brollachan.”
“I don’t see why not. Unless someone has a better idea to kill an incorporeal creature? Assuming the magic silver bullets don’t bring it down? No?” Valentine demanded. “Then save your judgemental looks for someone who gives a shit.”
Taranis broke the tension in the room by starting to laugh. “You know, Val, it really is a shame you don’t get along with Lena. You two think way too much alike.”
“Surewe do,” Valentine said with a roll of his eyes.
“Getting back to the task at hand,” Taranis said, ignoring him. “When fighting this kind of creature, the more magical hands, the better. Pair up, one magic user and one fighter in each group. Lachie and Apollo. Reeve and Charlotte. Cosimoand Valentine. Quinn and I. Bas and Bridget. The magic users can hold off the Brollachan until Bas gets there with Valentine’s spirit box. He’ll be the best equipped to go up against this thing.”
Bridget zoned out of the conversation, and her hand moved protectively to Bas’s knee. She really didn’t want it to be up to Bas to try and kill it on his own.
I won’t be alone. You’ll be with me,Bas replied.
“We can’t forget that Bridget is going to draw that creature like a fly to honey,” Apollo said, stirring his tea thoughtfully. “And we haven’t even considered that Auntie Quinn has oneiromancer abilities that it won’t help being attracted to. We cut off its food sources, so it’s going to be hungry.”
A deep, threatening growl came out of Taranis, rising the hair on Bridget’s arms.
“My mate is not going to be bait ever again. Understand me?” he snarled.
Quinn patted his hand. “Take a breath, love. No one is suggesting that. Apollo is just pointing out it might be attracted to me. So that you can protect me extra well.Right, Apollo?”
Apollo’s eyes went big and innocent. “Of course, that’s what I meant, Uncle Taran. I’d never want to put my favorite Auntie in any danger. How could you think such a thing?”
Lachlan snorted. “Because you did it last time with the Fomorian mage?”
“Shut your whore mouth, Lachlan Ironwood, or I will—” Apollo began and was silenced by Kenna banging her hand against the table.
“No one is using anyone as bait. If it’s drawn to Bridget, it will just give Bas an opportunity to kick its ass. Everyone pick a patch on the map to check out. We are losing daylight, and I’m done with your shit,” Kenna said, and everyone jumped to obey. Except for Taranis, who was glaring at the wall, eyes shining bright with fury.
Bridget leaned over and whispered to Bas, “I want to be her when I grow up.”
33
