Epilogue
“Have you heard anything from Carrick or Ruairí?”
“Not a word,” he quickly answered, moving Joy from one arm to the other, then grabbing his coffee mug.
“You should have gone with them,” Vanessa said, for what seemed like the hundredth time. “We would’ve…”
“No. I’m not going anywhere until the Blackwood Sisters are found, even Angelica.” Holding up his hand just when Vanessa was about to speak, he kept going. “I know she helped you, but blood is thicker than water, and…”
“And she wasn’t with the Angeline and Angelique when they ran off with all the others. I still think…”
“You still think that we should find her, take her in, and help her.”
“Yes.” She nodded even though her back was turned while she finished making breakfast before they had to go to Christmas Dinner with the Ryder Pounce at the Grand Hall. “And I also think you should’ve gone with Carrick and Ruairí to look for their brother.”
“No.”
“Yes,” she repeated, turning away from the toaster and nodding to her Mate. “Joy and I would’ve been fine. We’re here with everybody in the Ryder Pounce within yelling distance, Della is just two doors down, and we already decided we’re not going to the Isle of Skye until after New Year’s.”
“I know.”
Chuckling, Vanessa walked over, ran her fingers through his hair, and teased, “I think he just wanted to spoil you, Miss Joy. If we’re not careful, there’ll be a pony out back before you can walk.”
“Oh, it’s already…”
Interrupted by a strong, Magical static that had the hairs on her arms standing on end, goosebumps raised at the nape of Cyrus’s neck, and Joy wailed, Vanessa took the baby from her Mate and grabbed the tiny amulet Della had given.
Placing it on Joy’s chest, she breathed a sigh of relief when the baby instantly quieted.
“You have to get a cord or a chain or something for that pendant,” Celeste all but commanded. “Our Joy needs to have it on all the time.”
“You’re right. We’ll get it today.”
Switching her focus from the Polar Bear Princess to her Mate’s mental conversation with Carrick, Vanessa was surprised to hear the thick rumbling brogue of the Enforcer, Ruairí.
“We split up. He said we needed to cover more ground. He had a dream that Gunnar was being drained of his Magic, and he and his Dragon King were fading fast.”
“It was just a dream?”
“Yes, but you know…”
“Yeah, I know how he can be.” Getting to his feet, Cyrus went on, “Let me see if I can…”
“You are going,” Vanessa cut into their conversation. “You can call the others and get as much help as you need, but this is Carrick you need…”
A swarm of angry bees warring with cicadas, with wasps and hornets cheering, burst into their mental conversation. It was loud and angry and growing stronger with every second.
“I-I…” More static, and a low roar that shook the confines of Vanessa's mind, interrupted.
Then everything went silent.
It was deafening.
Worse than the cacophonous buzz from seconds before.
Ready to push her Mate out the door, Vanessa was forced to grab ahold of the counter to stay upright as a shrill, gravelly voice, so nasally that it resonated with every syllable, announced, “I have two of the O’Clery Dragons. Care to make it three?”