She angled her face up to his. “It’s a fortunate man you are to have such leisure time.”
“Today it is. I’m thinking you may have an hour yet to spare.”
“Well, your thinking isn’t—” She broke off, narrowed her eyes as the shirt she’d worn winked away, leaving her naked. “That was rude and inhospitable.”
“I’ll show you great hospitality,aghra.” Closing his arms around her, he flew them both back into bed.
12
SHEDIDN’TLEAVEUNTILMIDDAY,ANDFOUNDKATHELoutside playing run and tumble with Bugs. She ignored the fact that those who worked in the stables would have seen her car still parked when they’d arrived that morning.
The juice would begin to flow from the grapevine, but it couldn’t be helped. She gave Bugs a quick rub, told him he was welcome to come with Fin anytime at all and play with Kathel.
Then she whistled her own dog into the car, and drove home.
She went straight upstairs to change out of her party dress and into warm leggings, a cozy sweater, and soft half boots. After bundling her hair up, she considered herself ready to work.
In her workshop, she put the kettle on, lit the fire. And feeling a shift in the air, whirled around.
Sorcha’s Brannaugh stood, a quiver on her back, her own Kathel at her heel.
“Something changed,” she said. “A storm came and blew through the night. Thunder raged, lightning flamed even through a fall of snow. Cabhan rode the storm until the stones of the castle shook.”
“Are you harmed? Any of you?”
“He could not get past us, and will not. But another maid is missing, and a kinswoman, and I fear the worst for her. Something changed.”
Yes, Brannaugh thought, something changed. But first there were questions. “What do you know of demons?”
Sorcha’s Brannaugh glanced down as Branna’s Kathel went to hers, and the hounds sniffed each other.
“They walk, they feed, they thirst for the blood of mortals. They can take many forms, but all but one is a lie.”
“And they search out, do they not,” Branna added, “those willing to feed them, to quench that thirst? The red stone, we’ve seen its creation, and we’ve seen the demon Cabhan bargained with pass through it and into him. They are one. Sorcha couldn’t end Cabhan because the demon lived, and healed him. They healed, I think, each other.”
“How did you see?”
“We went in a dream spell, myself and Finbar Burke.”
“The one of Cabhan’s blood. You went with him, to Cabhan’s time, to his lair. How can there be such trust?”
“How can there not? Here is trust,” she said, gesturing to the dogs who’d gone to wrestling on the floor. “I know Fin’s heart, and would not know all we do now without him.”
“You’ve been with him.”
“I have.” And though she felt her cousin’s concern, even disapproval, she wouldn’t regret it. “The storm came to you. I heard it when I joined with Fin, and I thought fate clashed at the choice we made. But you say it was Cabhan who rode the storm, and you felt it was his power, or rage, that shook the stones. It may be the joining angered him—this speaks true to me. What angers him only pleases me.”
“I know what it is to love. Have a care, cousin, on how that love binds you to one who carries the mark.”
“I’ve had a care since the mark came on him. I won’t shirk my duty. My oath on it. I believe Fin may be the true change, the weapon always needed. With him, as no three has before, we will end this. Cabhan, and what made him what he is now. It must be both, we believe that, or it will never end. So, what do you know of demons?”
Brannaugh shook her head. “Little, but I will learn more. You will call him by his name. This I have heard. You must use his name in the spell.”
“Then we’ll find his name. How long since last we talked in your time?”
“Today is La nag Cearpairi.”
Day of the Buttered Bread, Branna realized. New Year’s Day. “As it is here. We are on the same day, another change. This will be our year, cousin, the year of the three. The year of the Dark Witch.”
