Blood Magick (The Cousins O'Dwyer Trilogy #3)(40)

“Ah, Branna, my mother’s thriving at Maureen’s. She’s happier than I’ve seen her in years. Roses in her cheeks, a sparkle in her eye. She showed me her bedroom, and I have to give Maureen full marks there, as it’s as fussy and pretty as Ma would want.”

Meara sighed, but it was a sound of contentment. “Having us all in one place meant the world to her, that I could see. And didn’t Maureen take me off to a corner to tell me how good it is for Ma to be there—I even let her go on about it, as if it had been her notion all along.”

“It’s a weight off you.”

“A heavier one than I knew. And she’s so pleased I won’t be having sex with Connor much longer outside Holy Matrimony.” Laughing, Meara sat by the fire. “She’s already talking more grandchildren.”

“And you?” Branna brought over a tray with steaming tea and sugar biscuits.

“I want them, of course, but likely not as quickly as will suit her. A bridge to cross at a later time.” She sipped at her tea. “I’m glad you said I’d timed it well, coming in on you. I wanted to talk to you. Just you and me.”

“Is there a problem?”

“That’s what I want to ask you. I don’t remember a time we weren’t friends as it all started when we were still in nappies.”

Branna took a bite of a sugar biscuit, grinned. “And may be in nappies again before we’re done.”

Meara snorted out a laugh. “That’s a thought. As we’re forever, you and I, we can say things maybe others can’t. So I want to say this to you. Could it be good for you, Branna, this dream linking you’re about to do with Fin?”

“We all agreed—”

“No, no, I’m not asking as part of the circle. I’m asking only as your friend, your sister. Nappie to nappie, we’ll say.”

“Ah, Meara.”

“I’m thinking only of you now, as it’s only you and me here. It’s intimate, this dreaming together. I know and understand that well. It’s a lot to ask of yourself, Branna, of your heart, your feelings.”

“Dealing with Cabhan comes ahead of all that.”

“Not for me. Not between me and you. I know you’ll do it regardless, but I want to know how you feel about it all—friend to friend, and woman to woman besides. How you feel, and what I can do to help you.”

“How I feel?” Branna loosed a long breath. “I feel it must be done, that it’s the best way we have. And I know there’ll be hurt, for it is intimate as you say. I know Fin and I must work together for the good of all, and I’ve accepted that.”

“But?”

She sighed, knowing she could tell Meara whatever she held in her heart. “Since he came back months ago, since he’s stayed all these months, and I’ve seen him fight and bleed with us, it’s harder to hold back what I feel for him, and always have felt. It’s harder to set aside what I know he feels for me, and always has felt. What we do next will make it harder still, on both of us. And I can only be grateful knowing you’re there, you understand.”

“Couldn’t Connor go with him, or Boyle, or any of us?”

“If it was meant to be Connor or Boyle or any of us, it wouldn’t have been me pulled into the dream that took us to Midor’s cave. I can deal with it, Meara, as he can, though I know it’s no easier for him than for me.”

“He loves you, Branna, as deep as any man can love. I know it hurts you for me to say it.”

“No, you don’t hurt me.” Branna rubbed a hand on Meara’s thigh. “I know he loves me, or some part of him does. Some part always will. Love’s powerful, and it’s vital, but it’s not all.”

“Do you blame him still for his lineage?”

“It was easier when I did, when I was so young, so shattered, I could. But not blaming him doesn’t change the facts of it all. He’s Cabhan’s blood. He bears the mark, and that mark came on him, manifested after we’d been together. If there’s any of that lingering in me that blames him, well, it blames myself as well.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Meara replied. “I wish you wouldn’t take on blame, either of you.”

“My blood, his blood. He bears the mark as much because of Sorcha as Cabhan, doesn’t he? I think now that we’re older and know more than we did, we both understand we’re not meant to be together.”

“If we defeat Cabhan, would you still feel that way? Still believe you couldn’t be with him, and happy?”

“How can I say? How can I know? It’s fate that drew us together, and fate pulled us apart. Fate decides these things.”

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” Meara said, with heat. “We decide our own fate, by our choices, our actions.”

Branna smiled, sat back. “You’ve a point there. Of course we’re not merely puppets. But fate deals the hand, to my way of thinking. How we play the cards matters, but we only have the ones we’re dealt. What would I do if fate hadn’t dealt me you? I wouldn’t have a friend who’d know to come give me her shoulder.”

“It’s always here for you.”

“I know it. I’m built to stand on my own, but God, it’s good to lean now and then. I can wish I didn’t love him. I can wish I could look back at the girl I’d been and say, well now, she had her fling and her disappointment, her bit of heartbreak. Now she’s moved on. But whatever cards I hold, he’s one of them. And ever will be.”