Fionn turned away, feeling a flicker of unease that he attributed to the once-human man he’d been. It was a shame to kill the girl. So far, she’d impressed him with how easily the fae abilities were coming to her and how quickly she was adjusting to her new reality. The truth could derail weak minds, or send humans into histrionics that lasted an interminably long time.
Not Rose, though. She’d been skeptical, as anyone would be, but with insurmountable evidence piling up, she’d accepted the truth and moved on.
Moreover, she’d told him about the encounter with her landlord and how she’d had the good sense to grab her passport before fleeing the apartment after the man declared her a witch.
Which was why they would jump on the first flight to Barcelona as soon as he’d retrieved his things from the hotel.
“Why Barcelona?” Rose asked.
Fionn turned his head and looked down at her. She stared up at him with those striking light blue eyes. Most eyes had striations of several colors in them, but Rose’s only had two. The dominant color was a pale blue; slightly darker blue striations bled out from the edges of the iris. Strangely, they reminded him of Cónán, the wolf he’d raised from cub when he’d been human. When he became king, they’d called him Rí Mac Tíre. The Wolf King, because of Cónán. He’d been loyal only to Fionn, and eventually Fionn’s family. Everyone else kept a wary distance from the wolf, and for good reason.
A small splinter in his chest made itself known before Fionn adamantly ignored it. It had been years since he’d thought of Cónán and the fae captain, Lir, who had killed him.
Before Fionn had made his escape from Faerie, he’d used An Breitheamh to end Lir. Cónán had been one of the few beings in this life Rí Mac Tíre had truly loved. He deserved justice.
Rose’s question and his thoughts of An Breitheamh brought Fionn back to the moment. “There’s something I need in Barcelona,” he responded. “And then we’ll make our way to Ireland.”
Before she could question him further, Fionn’s mobile rang. The screen said it was Bran. Wanting her to trust him, she had to think he was an open book. “It’s my associate, Brannigan. He’s a … researcher, for lack of a better word. He keeps me informed on anything of importance regarding the underworld we belong to.”
She nodded, her expression thoughtful, as she watched him put the phone to his ear.
“Hello.”
“Ah, you’re not alone if I’m getting a polite hello.” Bran’s amused voiced filled his ear.
“That is correct.”
Bran chuckled. “Is it the girl? Rose? Is she with you?”
“She is.” And considering she was fae, she could probably hear every word spoken between them. “I promised her I’d help. So … do you have any word about her birth parents?”
Catching on, Bran replied with a carefulness that was probably only obvious to Fionn. “For a start, William Kelly was born Cian Cosway, and Anna Kelly was born Rhiannon O’Connor.”
The vampire stressed the name O’Connor, and Fionn stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “As in the O’Connor Coven of Dublin?”
Rose tensed beside him.
“As in the O’Connor Coven of Dublin. Rhiannon is Rose’s aunt. Her mother was Valerie, the eldest daughter of the coven leaders and heir to the coven. I remember when Valerie and her husband, Lorcan, died. It was a big deal in the supernatural community because they did in fact die in a car crash. A pretty horrific one. Folks surmised at the time that it had to have all happened too quickly for such a powerful witch and warlock to have not escaped it.”
Fionn watched Rose’s face and saw her expression fill with sadness as she eavesdropped on their conversation. If they hadn’t been in public, Fionn would have just put the bloody phone on speaker. The fact that she could hear over the noise of the traffic told him her hearing was acute.
“They must have known,” Fionn said, studying his captive’s features. She had a slight sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose, so light he hadn’t noticed them until now. A tiny sparkling blue stud pierced the right side of her small nose. With her dark hair blowing back in the gentle breeze, he saw the cuff of her right ear was also pierced in several places.
“Aye,” Bran agreed. “There’s no way of knowing how they worked out Rose is one of the children. Perhaps even as a newborn she