“Bollocks to that.” Connor tipped more whiskey in his own glass. “Bloody, buggering bollocks to that.”
“Well said,” Branna agreed. “’Tis I who’s sorry. Every st
ep in place, every detail. But one. I never thought of him slipping through time like that, not on command. I didn’t know he could so quickly, and with us so close.”
“No.” Fin shook his head when she glanced at him. “I never saw it coming. He’s too clever by half, changing the ground to one where his power burned stronger than we knew.”
“And where we couldn’t get to Iona. Where she was alone, after all.” Boyle reached over, took her hand, held it firmly in his.
“But you came, all of you.”
“Not as fast as I would like. It’s not enough to know where, but when. We might not have found you, but you called so strong. You believed, just as you said, and you called. You finished the circle, even with all that, you finished the circle, opened the power, and we could find you. And nearly took him.”
For a moment, Branna closed her eyes. “Nearly, I swear it was close.”
“It’s no fault of yours,” Connor told Iona, “or anyone’s come to that. It’s true enough we didn’t finish him, but we gave him a hell of a fight, and we hurt him. He won’t forget the pain we gave him this night.”
“And he’ll be more prepared for next time.” Meara lifted her hands. “It’s true, and needs to be said, so we don’t walk into that kind of trap again.”
“That’s fine, but . . . you’re burned.”
Meara glanced at her wrists, the backs of her hands, and the scatter of
burns. “Blowback, mostly. What about you?”
“Fin and I took care of each other. Why didn’t you say something? Stubborn arse.” Connor rose, gripped her hands.
“I’ve worse cooking breakfast.”
“There’s no need for pain. Are you burned as well?” he asked his sister.
“Not a fucking mark. We have his blood, and the ash his torn flesh turned to. We’ll use it against him. We’ll figure out just how, and we’ll use it against him when next we come at him. And it won’t be his ground the next time. We’ll be sure of it.”
Iona didn’t ask how. Sitting there, with those she loved, with her hand in Boyle’s, she felt her faith come back.
“He couldn’t take it,” she said slowly, and touched her free hand to her amulet. “Even when I was helpless, or as close to helpless as I’ve ever been, even when he hurt me, he couldn’t take it from me. He needed me to give it to him. He could kill me, but he couldn’t take what’s in me. That pissed him off.”
“Good.”
Iona smiled. “Damn good. I stabbed him with my athame.”
“Did you now?” Fin rose, walked over, and, bending down, kissed her hard on the lips. “That’s our girl. A weapon of light against the dark. It may be why there was so much blood left for us.”
“We’ll use that as well. I’m putting a meal together. I can’t promise what it might be, but we’ll eat well tonight. And there’s a bottle yet of that French champagne. We didn’t finish it, but I’d say the first battle is ours, and we’ll celebrate that. You lot can give me a hand. Not the two of you,” Branna said to Iona and Boyle. “You took the worst of it, so you’ll sit there and drink your whiskey by the fire a bit.”
“I’ve not finished with the stubborn arse yet.”
Meara punched Connor’s shoulder. “Mind your own arse.”
“Why when yours is not only stubborn but shapely as well?”
“In the kitchen, I said.” And this time Branna rolled her eyes at Connor to give him a clue.
“Fine, fine, I’m half starved anyway.”
He trooped out, dragging Meara with him.
“I’ll take a look at the horses. So you can rest your mind there.”