Wine & Warlocks by T.M. Cromer

Author:T.M. Cromer
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781956941067
Publisher: Fae Press

To remain alert to external dangers, Ronan kept his attention locked on the landscape beyond the Aether’s darkening garden. He also kept his ear tuned to the conversation between the three friends gathered in the sitting area behind him.

Damian Dethridge, Alastair Thorne, and Alexander Castor—a perfect trifecta. Three crafty men with unique powers, all destined to walk the line dividing good and evil for the ones they loved. Rumor had it, they’d crossed that line plenty of times in recent years. It made one raise a brow at the frequency with which it happened, but Ronan had been privy to enough of their secrets to understand the why of it.

Case in point, Good Ol’ Uncle Alex had the brilliant idea to question the baby Aether about the future outcome of their plan to trap and destroy Loman. But based on their heated conversation, Damian was adamantly opposed to details being revealed for any reason.

“It would limit the loss of life,” Alastair argued, backing Castor’s request. “People we all care about are putting themselves at risk, Dethridge. It’s only natural to want assurances.”

“We don’t know what kind of repercussions it might have, Al,” Damian replied with what sounded like fatigue heavy in his voice. “We’ve been over this numerous times.”

Satisfied there was no immediate threat outside, Ronan watched the three friends in the reflection of the glass.

“Quentin and I can find a way to summon our future selves, but it would only give us one or two possible outcomes at most.” Castor shrugged. “Option three would be to secure the Traveler’s sphere Athena gifted to Francesca.”

“My understanding is that it was only meant for Quentin’s daughter when she came of age,” Damian warned. “It’s not wise for either of you to use what belongs to another.”

“Could you or I use it?” Ronan asked Damian as he joined the others. “As individuals with uniquely universal abilities, would either of us have the power to turn it on?”

Damian shook his head. “Me, perhaps. You? It’s doubtful. You would need to possess the knowledge to not only activate it, but to control it as well. If one isn’t careful, they could get lost in time with no way to return.”

“That would suck, sure.” Sitting on the sofa, he rested his head along the back and stared at the ornate ceiling of the Dethridge study. “But we can’t go into this blind, Damian. My da is always steps ahead of us on a good day, and I don’t fancy anyone else’s blood on my conscience.”

“It’s quite possible the Fates designed it so some would perish.”

“Do you know that for certain?” Ronan asked him. “You’re the Aether and a law unto your own self, man. There isn’t another who can take your place or offer up your distinctive perspective. The Fates, and by extension the Authority, would be fecking eejits if they punished you for doing what is necessary.”

The Aether’s reaction was wry amusement. “You’re young by comparison to the rest of us, O’Connor, so you don’t know.

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