“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.”
“I will pray for it. I must go, the baby’s waking.”
“Wait.” Branna closed her eyes again, brought the image into her mind from the box in her attic. Then held out a small stuffed dog. “For the baby. A gift from his cousins.”
“A little dog.” As she petted it, Sorcha’s Brannaugh smiled. “So soft it is, and clever.”
“It was mine, and well loved. Bright blessings to you and yours this day.”
“And to you and yours. I will see you again. We will be with you when it’s needed, in that I will have faith, and trust.” She laid her hand on her dog’s head, and they faded away.
Branna lowered her hand to her own dog’s head, stroked. “Once I thought to give the little dog to my own baby. But since that’s not to be, it seemed a fine gift for my cousin’s.” Kathel leaned his great body against her in comfort. “Ah, well, we’ve work to do, don’t we? But first I think you’ve earned a biscuit for being so welcoming to our cousin’s hound.”
She got one for him, smiled when he sat so politely. “How lucky am I to have so many loves in my life.” She leaned down, pressed a kiss to the top of his head, then offered the biscuit.
Content in the quiet, she made her tea, and she sat with her spell books, looking for whatever she might find on demons.
She had the whole of the afternoon to herself, a precious thing, so mixed work and reading with some baking to please herself. She put a chicken on the boil, thinking chicken soup with chunky vegetables and thick egg noodles would go well. If she didn’t have a houseful, she could freeze most of it for when she did.
With dusk she shifted her books to the kitchen so she could continue to work as she monitored her soup. She’d just rewarded herself with a glass of wine when Iona came in.
“Boy, I could use one of those. I took Nan back, got weepy—sad she had to go home, so happy she’s coming back. And I thought I was done for the day.” She poured the wine. “But Boyle texted me they’d had a group of twelve who’d celebrated New Year’s at Ashford, decided they’d finished feeling hungover and wanted guided rides. So it was back to work.”
She took her first sip. “And I’m babbling about all that—can babble about more if necessary—to keep from asking about you and Fin if you don’t want to be asked.”
“You may have gleaned we had sex.”
“I think we all gleaned that was a strong probability. Are you happy, Branna?”
Branna went to stir the soup. “I can say, without question, I’ve had a long-nagging itch thoroughly scratched, and I’m not sad about it. I’m happy,” she said when Iona just waited. “Today, I’m happy and that’s enough.”
“Then I’m happy.” She stepped closer, gave Branna a hug. “What can I do to help? In any area.”
“I’ve dinner under control. You could sit there, read over my notes, see what you think of it all.”
“Okay. Boyle and I were going to eat out, and stay at his place—and Connor and Meara the same. We thought you’d have plans with Fin and wanted to give you room. But you’ve got that vat of soup going, so . . .”
“Don’t change plans on my account. I’d already thought of freezing the bulk of it. I was in the mood to make soup, and give my head time to think that way.” She didn’t mention she’d made no plans with Fin—and wouldn’t mind a night alone.
“You’re planning to keep seeing him—being with him, I mean.”
“A day at a time, Iona. I won’t think on it further than that.”
“All right, but I may as well tell you Fin was by to talk through some business with Boyle and he looked . . . happy. Relaxed.”