“It was, as Sorcha’s poison was. But neither finished him. I can’t find what we missed—and yes, we should work together. You’ve a good hand with potions and spells. We have until Samhain.”
“Why Samhain?” Connor asked her.
“The beginning of winter, the eve of the beginning of the year itself for us—the Celts. I thought on this while making this meal. We thought the longest day—light over dark—but I think that was wrong. Maybe this is something we missed. Samhain, for we need some time, but as he’s coming after one of us so blatantly, we can’t take too much of it.”
“On the night the Veil is thin,” Connor considered. “And where it’s said no password is needed to move from realm to realm. That could be it, one of the things we missed. He can pass easy as walking across the room. On that night, it may be we can do the same without struggling first to find where, or when.”
“The night when the dead come to seek the warmth of the Samhain fire,” Fin added, “and the comfort of their blood kin.”
“The dead—ghosts now?” Meara demanded. “Witches aren’t enough for us now.”
“Sorcha,” Branna said simply.
“Ah. You think she could come, add to the power. Sorcha, and the first three as well?”
“It’s what we’ll think on, work on. If we’re all agreed to it.”
“I like it.” Boyle lifted his glass to Branna. “All Hallow’s Eve it is.”
“If we can hold him off that long, and learn enough,” Branna qualified.
“We can. We will,” Connor said decisively. “I’ve always been partial to Samhain—and not just for the treats. I had a fine conversation once with my great-granny on Samhain.”
“Who was dead at the time, I suppose.”
He winked at Meara. “Oh, gone years before I was born. When the Veil thins I’m able to see through it easier than other times. And since we’re all thinking he’s testing me, in particular, it might be I’m the lure we’re after. And you thought of that,” he said to Fin.
“It crossed my mind. We’ll think a great deal more, talk it through, and work carefully. I can give you all the time you need, Branna. At any time.”
“No ramblings coming up?” she asked carelessly.
“Nothing that can’t be postponed or put off. I’m here till this is done.”
“And then?”
He looked at her, said nothing for a long beat. “Then, we’ll see what we see.”
“He’s only made us stronger.” Iona took Boyle’s hand. “Families fight, and they make mistakes. But they can come back stronger for it. We have.”
“To squabbles and fuckups then.”
Connor raised his glass, the rest lifted theirs, and with a musical clink, sealed the toast.
12
HE KNEW IT FOR A DREAM. IN HIS MIND’S EYE HE COULD see himself, tucked warm and naked in bed with Meara, and could—if he drifted back, feel her heart beat slow and steady against his.
Safe and warm in bed, he thought.
But as he walked the woods, the chill hung in the night air, and the clouds that flirted with the three-quarter moon deepened dark shadows.
“What are we looking for?” Meara asked him.
“I don’t know till I find it. You shouldn’t be here.” He stopped to cup her face in his hands. “Stay in bed, sleep safe.”
“You won’t lock me in or away.” Firmly, she gripped his wrists. “You promised it. And it’s my dream as much as yours.”
He could send her back, into dreams where she wouldn’t remember. But it would be the same as a lie.