“Not offhand, but... I suspect we could find one should we need one. I think it might be more simple and basic than that.”
“What’s simple and basic about finding out a demon’s name?”
“Asking it.”
Iona flopped back in the chair, gave a half laugh. “That would be simple. We could all come here, or all meet in the pub if you want to go over this tonight.”
“I think you can pass it all on well enough.”
“Then I will. When’s Fin coming by? I don’t want to be in the way.”
“Oh...” Branna went back to the soup. “We didn’t set any specific time. It’s best if we keep it more casual-like.”
“Gotcha. I’m going to go up, grab a shower, and change. I’ll just ask Boyle to swing by and get me. The four of us can put our heads together on it, and talk it to death with you and Fin later.”
“That would suit me very well.”
Evasive, Branna thought when alone again. She preferred evasive to deceptive. She hadn’t absolutely said she expected Fin. And it would give her brain a rest not to have to talk it all through, to give it all a day or two to stir around in her head first.
Maybe she’d rest her brain with the telly instead of a book. Watch something fun and frivolous. She couldn’t think of the last time she’d done only that.
“I’m heading out!” Iona called back. “Text me if you need me.”
“Have a good time.”
Branna waited until she heard the door close, then, smiling to herself, got out a container to freeze all but a bowl of the soup.
A bowl of soup, a glass of wine, followed by a bit of the apple crumble she’d baked earlier. A quiet house, old pajamas, and something happy on the telly.
Even as she thought what a lovely idea it all was, the door opened.
Fin, with Bugs on his heel, came in with a ridiculously enormous bouquet of lilacs. The scent of them filled the air with spring and promise. She wondered where he’d traveled for them, and arched her eyebrows.
“And I’m supposing you’re thinking a forest of flowers buys your way into dinner and sex?”
“You always favored lilacs. And both Boyle and Connor did mention going off tonight to give us the cottage to ourselves. Who am I to disappoint my mates?”
She got out her largest vase, began to fill it while Bugs and Kathel had a cheerful bout of wrestling. “I’m after a bowl of soup in front of the telly.”
“I’d be more than happy with that.”
She took the lilacs, breathed them in—remembered doing the same on a long-ago spring when he’d brought her an equally huge bouquet of them.
“I baked an apple crumble to follow.”
“I’m fond of apple crumble.”
“So I recall.” And so, she thought, this explained why she’d had a yen to bake one. “I had myself a fine plan for the evening. An all but perfect one for me.” She laid the flowers aside a moment, turned to him. “All but perfect, and now it is. It’s perfect now you’re here.”
She walked into his arms, pressed her face into his shoulder. “You’re here,” she murmured.
•••
BRANNA THOUGHT OF IT AS REFOCUSING. WEEKS AND WEEKSof studying, charting, calculating had brought her no closer to a time and date for the third and, please the gods, last battle with Cabhan. She rarely slept well or long, and she had eyes to see the lack of sleep had begun to show.
Pure vanity if nothing else demanded a change of direction.
Now that she was bedding Fin and being bedded by him, very well, thank you very much, she couldn’t say she’d gotten more sleep, but she’d rested considerably better in those short hours.
