Blood Magick (The Cousins O'Dwyer Trilogy 3)
“Then I will. Good night.”
Meara waited until Branna was out of earshot, Kathel by her side, then walked over to put the kettle on. “You’re the one who’s worrying, Connor.”
“She didn’t eat, not a thing.” He glanced toward the kitchen doorway, stuck his hands in his pockets as if he couldn’t quite figure out what to do with them. “She only pretended to eat. There were shadows under her eyes that weren’t there at the start of the spell. Then letting you and Iona fuss over her without putting up a fight? She’s worn to the bone, that’s what.
“You’ll look after her, won’t you, Meara? You and Iona will see to her. I won’t be long at Fin’s unless I’m needed. And we’ll stay here tonight.”
“Give Fin what he needs, and we’ll see to Branna.”
“Without making it like you’re seeing to her.”
She shot the fretting brother a glance. “I’ve known her near as long as you, Connor. I think I know how to handle Branna O’Dwyer as much as any can. We’ll give her a bit of female time, then leave her alone. She’ll do best with the quiet and alone.”
“True enough. I’ll run over to Fin’s, and be back as soon as I can.”
“If you need to stay, you’ve only to let us know.” She turned her face for a kiss when he came over, smiled at his quick, hard hug.
She finished up Branna’s tea while Connor put on his outdoor gear, and turned to Boyle when they were alone. “It looks like you’re left with the dirty dishes.” Meara gave him a quick pat on the shoulder as she sailed out.
He looked around the empty kitchen, sighed. “Ah, well.” And rolled up his sleeves.
• • •
CONNOR WALKED STRAIGHT INTO FIN’S AS HE HAD SINCE the day the front door went up. Before, come to that, as he’d installed the door himself.
He found Fin with another whiskey in front of the living room fire, the little stable dog Bugs curled up sleeping at his feet.
“I’ve orders to check in on you,” he announced, and thought it was good he had. Fin looked as worn and bruised as Branna.
“I’m fine, as you can see plain enough.”
“You’re not, as I see plain enough,” Connor corrected, and helped himself to a whiskey, then a chair. “Iona’s after drawing Branna a bath, and Meara’s making her tea. She’s letting them, which tells me she needs the fussing. What do you need?”
“And if I ask it, you’ll give it?”
“You know I will, though it’s a mortifying thought I may be drawing your bath and tucking you up.”
Fin didn’t smile, only shifted his gaze from whatever he saw in the fire, met Connor’s eyes. “It was a hard pull, a bloody brutal pull. For a moment I could feel all it promises. That power beyond what any of us hold. It’s black and it’s cold, but it’s . . . seductive. And all I have to say is, I’ll take it.”
“You didn’t. And you won’t.”
“I didn’t, this time. Or times before, but it’s a call to the blood. And to the animal that’s inside all of us. So I’ll ask you for something, Connor, as you’re my friend as near as much a brother to me as you are to Branna.”
“I’m both.”
“Then you’ll swear to me, on your own blood, on your heart where your magick roots, if I turn, if the pull is too much and I fall, you’ll stop me by whatever means it takes.”
“You’d never—”
“I need you to swear it,” Fin interrupted, eyes fierce. “Otherwise I’ll need to go, I’ll need to leave here, leave her—leave all of you. I won’t risk it.”
Connor stretched out his legs, crossed his boots at the ankles, stared at them for several moments.
Then slowly, he lifted his gaze to Fin’s.
“Listen to yourself. You want his end more than the three, more than the three we come from, but you’d step away, on the chance you’ve put in your block of a head you could fall when you’ve stood all this time.”
“You weren’t in the cave. You didn’t feel what I felt.”