in front of something she wants. She’s never had her heart broken—romantically,” Sally qualified. “She’s had her ego, her self-esteem, both always wobbly, shaken and dinged, but not her heart.” He leaned forward. “Don’t be the first.”
“I’m not—This isn’t about romantic reasons.”
With a manicured, hot-pink-tipped hand, Sally patted Keegan’s. “Whatever you say, handsome. And that’s my cue. Enjoy the show.”
It was hard not to, even with growing impatience—when the hell would she come out again?—when the place erupted with applause and cheers.
And Sally took the stage.
He admired performers, and quickly saw Sally had spoken true. He’d been born for the stage.
A presence was what it was, the movements, the confidence, as he sang about a bad romance with many patrons joining in on the chorus as they might at a pub sing-along.
And though he enjoyed, he knew when Breen came in. Just a tip of power in the air. It always amazed him people in this world couldn’t feel it.
He turned his head, and saw her as she saw him.
When she started toward him, he rose.
“What are you doing here?”
“We need to speak. If you’d come with me back to your home.”
Instead she sat. “We can speak right here.”
“It’s a conversation I’d rather in private.”
“This is private enough.”
Her self-confidence didn’t appear so—was it “wobbly”?—as her heart mother thought.
He started to lean forward, but the waitress stepped up, set down a glass of wine. “Marco thought you’d like one. Can I get you another beer?”
“Thanks all the same, this is more than fine.”
“Just send out a signal if you need anything.” Hettie looked deliberately at Breen. “Anything.”
“You’d think I’d come to drag you off by the hair,” Keegan muttered.
“We look out for each other here.”
“As do we,” he reminded her. “You said you’d come back, but it’s been more than a month.”
“Not quite a month,” she corrected. “I speak with Nan nearly every day.”
“And she’d say nothing that might weigh on you. In any case, I’ve been at the Capital these last days. You need to come back. The signs are growing.”
“What signs?”
“Of the dark that’s coming. You gave your word you’d come when needed. You’re needed.”
“I didn’t think you took me at my word.”
“Bugger it, woman, I was well pissed off, wasn’t I? This isn’t about your feelings or mine, but of duty.”
The music pulsed. Sally slid into “Born This Way.” People crowded onto the dance floor. The lights glimmered.
Everything, everything in the moment was so familiar, so safe, so normal, she craved it like breath.
“Tell me the truth. If I go to Talamh, I could die there.”
“Everything I have, everything I am will fight to protect you.”
She looked at him; she drank some wine. “I believe that. But I could die.”
He fisted a hand on the table, but didn’t pound it. “As I could, as all could. And if we fail, as all here could in time. Odran won’t stop with Talamh.”
“I see the land burning. I smell the smoke and the blood. I hear the screams.” She set down the wine.
He closed a hand over hers. “Will you do nothing, and let that happen?”
“No.” She rose, looked toward the stage at Sally, then at the bar and Marco. After pressing a hand to her heart, she started toward the door.
“I have a flight on hold for next week,” she said as Keegan came after her. “I told everyone who matters I was going back—to Ireland.” Outside, she began to walk quickly. “I needed to tell them, needed to say goodbye. Now I have, so I’ll see if I can book an earlier flight.”
“You were coming back.”
She rounded on him. “I said I would.”
“I apologize.” He grabbed her arm as she turned and hurried on. “I’m sorry. Truly.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Sure and it does. I questioned your word, insulted you there, and that hurts you. I’m sorry for it. And three times sorry, so it should be enough for anyone.”
“I’m afraid.” She looked straight ahead as she spoke. “Everything here is what I know, and I have something I always wanted with writing. It’s like, here’s your chance to be happy, Breen, really happy, to finally find your place.
“But it’s not my place, or not my only place,” she continued. “When I think about the cottage in Ireland, or the way the air feels on my face in Talamh. What it’s like to watch Morena’s wings spread, or the scents in Nan’s workshop, her kitchen. How her door stays open.”
She sighed, closed her eyes. “And I miss it like a heartbeat.