Sacrificial lamb, he reminded himself as he hit the button to call Brannigan.
He picked up on the second ring. “I know Rose’s life is in danger, but you are aware that I sleep during the day? Because you’ve called me all day.”
“It’s nighttime now.”
“Not my point. I should be wide a-fucking-wake right now, but all I want is a nap.”
Fionn tried and failed to bite back an impatient growl.
“Fuck, you sound like an animal when you do that. You sure you’re not part wolf or vampire?”
“Bran, if you don’t shut up, I will rip your heart out when I see you. Capisce?” The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it.
He rolled his eyes.
That bloody woman was infecting him.
“Capisce? Are we now—”
“Bran,” Fionn warned.
“Right, right. I take it you’re calling for an update.”
“I am. And you can be frank. No one is listening in, not even Rose.”
“Where is she?”
“Asleep in another carriage.” He sighed. “She killed a warlock today.”
“Ah. Troubled, is she? The first kill is the worst.”
“Aye, well, she’s strong, she’ll get through it. Any news on the jacket?”
“It’s destroyed,” Bran relayed.
Relief moved through Fionn. Not that he was afraid of taking on any more hunters. He just didn’t want Rose to have to deal with it. Barcelona would prove challenging enough without more O’Connor hunters on their tails.
“You’re not out of the woods yet. My informant tells me they’d already sent more hunters after you before we destroyed the jacket. They don’t know what train you got on, but they know what direction you’re taking. If they hear about An Breitheamh, then it’s safe to say they’ll be able to deduce you’re on your way to Barcelona. They’ll assume you want it to stop the Blackwoods from completing the gate ritual.”
Just what they needed. Fionn sighed. “We’ll deal with that if it happens. What about Rose’s parents?”
“They’ve booked tickets to Zagreb. They leave in a few hours. Look, I’ve been thinking, your phone is untraceable and their coven still doesn’t know where they are, so as far as I’m concerned, it’s safe for Rose to call them and tell them to stay put.”
The last thing Fionn wanted was Rose getting sentimental with her parents. He needed her focused on him, staying with him, not hearing her parents’ voices and longing to be with them.
“It would put her at ease.”
Remembering the tight expression on her face even as she slept, Fionn cursed under his breath. It would ease her worries to know her parents were okay. “Fine, I’ll let her call them.”
There was a moment of silence between them and then, “You like her.”
Fionn scowled. “What?”
Disbelief rang clear in Bran’s voice. “You haven’t complained about her once and you’re doing her favors I thought I’d have to talk you into. You like the little fae. I mean, it’s not surprising, I’ve seen her picture. She’s definitely got that extra something.”
“Bran,” Fionn warned, sweat dampening his palms.
“And she’s survived two attacks, even taking out a warlock, so she’s an impressively fast learner, yes?”
“Bran …”
“Maybe it’s time to reconsider—”
“I’ll kill you, Bran,” Fionn threatened, voice devoid of emotion. “If you utter one more word about changing my mind regarding Rose and the gate, I will end your bloodsucking existence. Are we clear?”
Considering he’d never seriously threatened to kill his friend before, Fionn was guessing they were clear when Bran replied coldly, “Oh, we’re clear.”
Fuck.
“Do you think this is easy for me?” he hissed, the fae audible in his voice. “I have no other choice. You know that.”
“You have a choice, Fionn.”
“I don’t, friend,” he offered the word in apology. “I am nothing if I am not my revenge.”
In answer, he heard fast typing down the end of the line.
“What are you doing?” he finally asked.
“Checking for the nearest underground fights.”
“I don’t have time for that.” Although, it might do him some good. Underground fights between supernaturals had existed for centuries. It was a place for werewolves and vampires to unleash the aggression they tried to hide from humans. Now and then, a witch or warlock would fight, but they weren’t allowed to use magic, so it was considered a death sentence for them.
At the fights, Fionn pretended to be a vampire. It explained his long life to those who were old enough to remember his face at other fights.
Only one being had ever questioned what Fionn was in the last three centuries, and that was an old werewolf acquaintance with secrets of his own. Although he wasn’t sure