Dark Witch (The Cousins O'Dwyer Trilogy #1)(112)

“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.”

Iona smiled at Fin. “Thanks. They’re fine, but it never hurts.”

Then she leaned her head back, closed her eyes. “I was fire,” she said softly. “Not just making it, being it. It was terrifying and glorious.”

“It was, looking at you with Connor and Branna, burning like a torch, all white and heat. It was terrifying, and glorious.”

“And still, it wasn’t enough. I wanted it to be over, now. Tonight.”

“Some things don’t happen as fast as you like.” Boyle turned her hand over in his, then gave in and pressed it to his cheek. “It doesn’t mean they won’t happen.”

“That’s right. And Branna’s right. When we weigh it all, we tipped the scales on this one. The way you flew through the fog. You and Alastar, you’re my heroes.”

“Since I know what store you put by the horse, I’m in fine company.”

“When I close my eyes and see your hands. See them on fire.”

“Look at them here. See that? Same as ever.”

Big, scarred. Precious.

“I didn’t think we’d get to you.” He spoke slowly, and with great care. “I didn’t think we’d get to you in time if at all, and that I might never see you again. I didn’t have your faith. I want you to know I have it now. So, you can say you’re my hero as well.”

She tipped her head to his shoulder a moment.

“And I think, all things considered . . .”

She took a sip of whiskey. “What things?”

“I’m saying, I think considering all of it, and the fact we’re done for now, and don’t know as yet what might be next. Considering all that, and all the rest, I think it would be best all around if you married me.”

She lowered the glass to stare at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know all you said after I was, well, just a raving git, and I’ve done what you wanted, or tried my best to. But I think it’s time we were past that now, and considering it all, we’ll get married and put all that away.”

“Married.” Had the battle, the bruisings, the flaming addled her brain? “As in married?”

“It’s the sensible thing. We’re good for each other, as you’ve said yourself. And . . . we have horses in common.”

“Can’t forget the horses.”

“It matters,” he muttered. “You love me. You said you did, and you’re a woman honest about her feelings.”

“That’s true.”

“So, we’re good for each other, and have the horses. You love me and it’s the same for me, so we’ll just get married.”

She decided her brain was working just fine, thank you. “What’s the same for you?”

“Jesus.” He had to stand for a moment, circle around the room. Stall by tossing more peat on the fire. “I never said it to a woman not my mother or related in some fashion. I don’t toss such things about as if they’re nothing.”

His hair, caught between brown and red, was a tumbled mess. She hadn’t noticed before, she realized. Or the blood on his shirt, the way his jaw set, so stubborn.