“Okay, well that sucks. Here I thought we were friends.”
Gran pours herself another cup of tea and adds a squeeze of honey. “Ye may be right, and it was a heartfelt offering. Ye simply can never be too careful is all.”
Granda takes the teapot next and refills his cup. “Next time say somethin’ like, ‘Your gift is kind. I will treasure it,’ or ‘The honor of your gesture won’t be forgotten.’ Ye see how that’s expressing yer appreciation without opening the door to being in their debt?”
“Okay, yeah, but ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry’ are a reflex. I’m Canadian. We’re known for being overly nice.”
“So you keep sayin’.” Sloan rises to take his plate to the sink. “I’m waitin’ to see it myself.”
Gran sips from the edge of her delicate, flowered teacup and sets it gently on the saucer. “What did ye say to him exactly, luv? Do ye remember?”
I run it back in my mind. “I said, ‘Thank you, very much,’ then I hugged him. Was that wrong, too?”
Sloan drops his plate in the sink and sends up a plume of bubbles. “He let ye touch him?”
His wide eyes make me giggle. “A quick hug to say thank you and goodbye, yeah.”
“Och,” Granda says. “Then maybe yer all right. I’ve never known a Man o’ Green to allow such a thing. He obviously trusts ye not to hold him ransom fer his gold.”
I chuckle. “Or he knew I’m not stupid enough to try. That’s why he lives with the dragon queen. She eats anyone who catches him when he leads them to his stash.”
“A canny and dangerous lot, them.”
I think about the time spent with Patty and the dragon waiting for the eggs to mature. We played a lot on his game console, but could it have been seven weeks?
“How long does it take for dragon eggs to hatch?”
I look at Granda because his discipline is being a walking encyclopedia. “Somewhere between fifty-two and sixty-eight days, I believe.”
It was only after the majority hatched that the she-dragon said I could go. Wow. Seven weeks. “I’m surprised Da isn’t here. He must’ve been out of his mind.”
The room falls eerily silent.
Sloan is finished with his plate but remains facing the sink. His shoulders are rigid, the muscles in his back tense. Granda clenches his jaw so tight that I’d bet he’s grinding his molars to dust. And my sweet gran looks at me and her chin starts to quiver. Is she tearing up?
“What happened? Did something happen to Da?”
Granda shakes his head. “Niall did come when ye first went missing—and yer right, he was in a state. We searched every avenue we could think of. The Order called in favors as we combed the countryside. But then yer father was called home on another matter.”
A hot flush ignites my whole body in a rush. Da would never abandon his search for me unless another one of his kids needed him more. “Who is it, and how bad?”
“It’s yer brother Brendan,” Gran says, her voice soft. She reaches over and squeezes my arm. “He was admitted to the hospital after being shot. The doctors did everything they could. I’m sorry, Fi. He passed a few weeks ago.”
I swallow. My hearing whooshes as blood thunders in my head. Brenny? “But… He can’t… I wasn’t there.”
“It’s not yer fault ye weren’t there, luv. Ye were missing. Yer family understands that. Yer brother would under—”
I press my hands flat on the table and stare at them, trying to hold back the shakes. “What happened? Was his cover blown? Did they find out he’s a cop?”
“Not as far as anyone can tell,” Gran says. “From what yer father said, the men he was investigating accosted a woman and her daughter on the street. Things got out of hand, and a fight ensued. When the man drew a gun in anger, yer brother stepped in front of the bullets.”
“Of course, he did.”
“He met his end with honor and bravery,” Granda says. “He saved the woman and her girl. A true hero.”
The scrape of wooden chair legs echoes in my skull as I rise from the table. The last time I saw Brendan, I pretended I didn’t know him and walked the other way. If I knew…
What? Would I have broken his cover? Would I knowingly put him in more danger?
I wander back to my room but can’t decide what to do with myself. I stop, locked in a whirl of indecision. My fractured attention bounces around the room. It’s not my room.
Not really. Why am I here when…
I’m sorry, Red.
I crawl onto my bed and pull the quilt over my head.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Me, too.”
It’s my biggest fear come to life. I’ve worried about each of them for years—known this could happen. Still, I don’t know how to dislodge the blade piercing my heart.
The mattress dips beside me, and a hand presses on the quilt tented over my head. A rush of healing energy takes the edge off the pain but doesn’t ease the loss. “I’m sorry, luv. With all the magic in our lives, ye’d think we could fix something like this. Alas, there was nothing to be done.”
I pull the blanket down and wipe my eyes. “I have to go home, Gran. They need me, and I need them.”
She nods. “We knew that would be yer first thought. Sloan’s agreed to see ye safe home. That distance will take a lot out of him. Since he won’t be able to return straight away, Lugh asked him to keep up yer trainin’ fer a few days until he’s strong enough to make his way back.”
“Thank you.” I hug my gran and look around the room. “I guess I should pack.”
Chapter Eighteen
Sloan portals us onto the back porch of my beloved Victorian house. It’s mid-morning, and the city is alive and bustling in the hum of the air around us. Our backyard is fairly private, but I check to see if our neighbors or anyone driving down the back lane saw us arrive. “You should’ve poofed us straight inside.”
“I’ve never been inside,” Sloan says. “I can only portal places I’ve been.”
That reminds me that he had likely been in my backyard when he was spying on us for Granda. “How’d you get here when you came to test our powers in the beginning?”
“I flew economy here and portaled home after ye laid yer beatin’ on me. Da thought I’d been mugged in the big city. I didn’t have the stones to tell him I got whipped by a wee girl.”
I know he’s trying to cheer me up, but it doesn’t touch the heaviness in my chest. “Come inside. Then you won’t have to spook the townsfolk next time.”
I set my computer bag on the table against the stairs and find Da, Calum, and Aiden in the front room. They’re sitting together, each of them with a longneck bottle in their hands but a million miles away in their minds.
“Hey,” I say. “How about a hug?”
The three are on their feet in the next instant, and love swallows me. “Fiona Kacee Cumhaill,” Da says, refusing to let me ease back from his embrace. “Let me hold ye a bit longer before the world crashes in. I need to convince myself yer real.”
I don’t argue. I’m exactly where I want to be.
I’m home.
When I’m set free from my dad’s embrace, Aiden takes his turn. “Hey, baby girl. Howeyah?”
“Sad. You?”
“Same.” He kisses the side of my head, then eases back to look at me. “Sorry your grand return from adventure is shrouded with shadow.”
I shrug. “It’s okay. Brenny’s the hero. Granda said he saved a woman and her daughter?”
“That he did,” Da says. “I spoke to the ladies myself and read the report. Yer brother is the only reason they live today. We need to keep that foremost in our minds.”
“Nothing makes it better,” I say, “but that helps.”
Da sees me tearing up and opens his arms again.
Yeah. It’s good to be home.
“Is this him?” Dillan flies in from the front door and goes directly for Sloan. “You’re the bastard who took Fi down in the alley and scared the shit outta Kady, yeah? You filthy
piece of shit.”
Oh, crap. I rush to stand block between them, both hands flat on my brother’s chest. “It was a test, D. Remember I said how he never hurt me or took a swing or anything? He wasn’t here to do harm.”
Dillan scowls at me, his dark hair much longer than when I left. “Tell that to Kady. She’s fucking traumatized. She can’t even walk to her car at night by herself. Whether or not Granda’s little messenger man meant to do no harm, he did.”
“I’m sorry,” Sloan says. “I was singularly focused on saving yer grandfather’s life. If ye let me apologize to the woman for the misunderstanding, I’ll fix it.”
“Yeah, no. I don’t bloody think so. There was no misunderstanding. You assaulted her, plain and simple. I’m gonna run you in.” Dillan lunges around me and grabs Sloan’s wrist. “You’re under arrest, asshole.”
Sloan disappears and reappears across the room. “No. I’m not.”
“What the fuck?” Dillan closes the distance and grabs at him again.
Sloan flashes back to the hall. “I’m sorry—truly, I am—but your choices here are to either let me fix it or forget it. There’s no scenario where you arrest me for doing my duty.”
Dillan goes for him a third time, and once again, Sloan slips his hold by using his wayfarer gift. He reappears in an empty corner of the room right as Shannon and Liam arrive.
“How the… What just happened there?” Shannon steps in from the front hall. “And why is Dillan trying to kill that man?”
“He’s the guy who assaulted Fi and Kady in the alley.”
Okay, now Shannon looks like she might try to kill him.
“Everyone, calm down,” I shout. “Can we not fight tonight, please? Yes, Sloan is the guy from the alley. No, he wasn’t mugging or assaulting us. He was testing the potential strength of my powers.”
Shannon looks at Da and frowns. “And why aren’t ye tryin’ to kill him yerself? The man roughed up Fi and took her to ground.”
Da, bless him, is calm as ever. “Sloan and I made our peace in Ireland while we looked fer Fi together.”
I meet Sloan’s gaze and wonder why he never mentioned it. A head-to-head with Da couldn’t have gone well.
“My father is a persuasive bastard, and Sloan was duty-bound to find which of my children held the most potential to save his life. Fi fit the bill, and he did what he did.”
“Potential fer what?” Shannon asks.
I search the faces of the men in the room and realize Shannon is the only one still in the dark. “Da, would you like to do the honors?”
He laughs and waves that away. “Och, no. This is yer shite-show, Fiona. You opened this particular kettle of worms, so have at it.”
I do my best. I start with the tattoo appearing on my back the morning after the alley incident, then explain how the letter arrived by courier with the same seal, then go into all the Ireland stuff, and end up right where we are.
Da and my brothers hadn’t heard the last part about being held captive by a leprechaun and a dragon, so that threw them a bit, but in the end, everything is out in the open.
Liam goes to the kitchen and grabs an armful of beer. Emmet, who came in halfway through the recap, helps him pass them around.
“Sloan is my friend,” I say, surprised that I think so after all the crap he’s put me through. “And yes, he’s too serious, quite conceited, and awkward to get to know, but if you take the time, he’s worth it.”
“If you say he’s an acquired taste, I’m going to hurt you,” Dillan says.
“No. He’s more like a fungus that grows on you.”
Sloan rolls his eyes. “Maybe it’s best I leave.”
“Best idea I’ve heard all day,” Dillan snaps.
“Ye’ll take the pullout in the basement,” Da says, pegging Dillan with a look. “And Dillan, ye’ll leave him in peace and bring Kady by in the morning. Give Sloan the chance to apologize and make it right with her.”
“But Da—”
My father lifts his hand. “If ye do somebody wrong, ye make it right. Sloan is offering to do that. It’s not yer place to deny it fer either him or Kady.”
Shannon’s sitting in my armchair in the corner, her arms crossed as tightly as her lips are pursed.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
She sighs. “I think ye’ve suffered an ordeal and what ye think is true and what is actually true is night and day different. All this craziness about magic and druids and dragons is a tale yer mind has told ye to help ye through. A coping mechanism, of sorts.”
I look at my brothers lounging around the room and shrug. “Let me prove it to you. I want you to meet someone. Ready for your big family debut, Bear?
Ready and waitin’, Red.
“He’s what the druid’s call an animal companion.”
Sloan snorts. “Still not.”
“Oh, shut up.” I wave at Sloan, and his smirk is all censure. Ha! Too bad. I’ve been waiting for this moment for months. “Now, he’s a little shy, so lean in and stay very still.”
They humor me. It strikes me then… Brendan would’ve loved this. He was the king of Cumhaill pranks. This one’s for you, Brenny. Watch this.
“Okay. Come on out, baby.”
The flutter in my chest precedes the manifestation of my massive brown bear in the living room. Emmet, Calum, Dillan, and Aiden jump back with a shout. Shannon pulls her knees up and screams. Liam yips and jumps behind the chair.
Da takes it all in with a chuckle. “Hello again, bear.” He walks over and gives his shoulder a scratch. “Looks like ye get yer city adventure after all. Welcome home to ye both.”
“What the fuck, Fi?” Calum shouts from his perch on the back of the couch. His eyes are bugged. “You have a pet bear?”
“Not a pet.” I drape my arm over Bruinior’s broad neck. “He’s my druid animal companion.”
“Again, no,” Sloan says. “Yer sister’s cracked. Her bear is a bound spirit meant to be a beast to cast in battle.”
“Fuck me.” Aiden takes a long draw on his beer and comes over to meet him. “Can you imagine having backup like this in the thick of a takedown?”
Emmet snorts. “The perps would scream and run faster.”
“Nah, they’d piss themselves and crumble. Most criminals are only brave in their wheelhouse. The rest of the shit you see on the street is machismo.”
Liam leaves his position of human shield between Bruinior and Shannon and flops onto the couch. “Holy shit, Fi. A little heads-up would’ve been nice.”
I’m still laughing. There’s no helping it. Their reactions were as good as I hoped. “Not on your life. The past two months emptied my heart of joy. That filled me right back up. Thanks, guys.”
“You’re demented.” Emmet brushes his shirt where beer sloshed down the front. “But damn, you deserve an Oh Henry! for that.”
I raise my hands in triumph. “Yessss!”
Aiden nods and holds up his palm for my bear to sniff. “Yeah, Brenny would’ve loved that one. Definitely chocolate bar-worthy.”
Sloan looks lost, so I fill him in. “Brendan was our trickster. When we were kids, he created a scoring system for how well your prank ranked in the hierarchy. You get points in four categories: originality, reaction, fallout, and reach. If you kill it in all four categories, the prize is an Oh Henry! bar. To be awarded one is a grand family honor.”
His gaze skitters around the room. “Ye come by it honestly, then. Yer all cracked.”
Emmet’s grin warms me. “Now you’re suckin’ diesel.”
Da holds up his beer and smiles. “That one was all craic, Fi. Good on ye. Brenny would be proud.”
“To Brenny.” Calum holds up his beer in salute.
“To Brenny,” we all repeat.
“I’ve never seen so many men in uniform.”
I cast Sloan a sideways glance and smile. “Is it doing something for you, big boy? Is it only cops that crank your gears, or do sailors do it for you, too?”<
br />
Sloan rolls his eyes, but before he can throw a remark back at me, I grab two whiskey bombs from a passing tray filled with courtesy libations and give one to him. “Thanks for coming. I know you’re not the most popular guest in the room, but I appreciate you being here.”
“When has popularity been a concern, right?”
“With your winning personality, likely never.”
“Exactly.” He lifts his gaze and scans the crush of cops, friends, and neighbors. “He must have been one helluva guy, yer brother.”
I slug back my whiskey and track the burn as it slides down to the icy pit in my belly. “He was. Brenny had a big heart and a wicked sense of humor. Most of the scolding we got as kids was because of him or something he thought up. Da always said, ‘Never listen to Brendan once he gets that look in his eye. It’ll only lead ye back here to me.’”
“I’m glad ye didn’t miss it.”
I smile at all the familiar faces, thankful that Da held the wake until they knew for sure if I was lost or not. It would’ve broken my heart to miss Brenny’s celebration, and he knew it. “Yeah, me too.”
“Hey.” Emmet joins us as we ease around the perimeter of our guests toward the bar. He kisses my cheek and lifts his chin in greeting to Sloan. “The band is going to start in a few. Before things get too loud, do you guys want that minute with Kady?”
“Did she agree to talk to Sloan?” I ask.
“Dillan’s not happy about it, but yeah. Da explained what happened to her, and she’s game.”
“He what?” Sloan says.
Emmet tilts his head. “Well, not the real reason, of course. Who in their right mind would believe it was a druid testing the magic of Fiona’s heritage power? No, he said you were a misguided fool who tested Fiona’s defensive skills on his request. He asked you to make the attack realistic, but you were too good at your job, and now that you’re back in town, you’d like the chance to apologize. Come on. She’s wrapping more cutlery. You can do your thing and be done with it.”
A Gilded Cage (Chronicles of an Urban Druid Book 1) Page 15
