Retribution: The Seer Series, #4

By R.M. Walker

Blood bonded under a full moon on Samhain, Lily, Nate, Matt, Josh, and Jake, are closer than ever.

And after spending time with her father, Drew, Lily is back with her boys and hoping for some peace and quiet. But confrontation comes from every side, and with horrifying visions, kidnapping, and more betrayal, their lives are in constant turmoil.

When Gerry, her mother's fiance gets hurt by Lily's magic, it triggers events that will lead them to a final battle with Hestia.

Lily, desperate to protect her boys will do whatever it takes, but when everything is over and the last spell is cast, who will be left standing?

And at what cost?

Retribution is the fourth and last book in The Seer Series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: RM Walker
• Release date: Sep 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393029373

R.M. Walker

About the Author RM Walker has spent her entire life dreaming up tales of fairies, witchcraft, magic, and romance when she should have been concentrating on other things. Having a head full of fantasy, she decided to turn her dreams into stories for others to read. She hopes that you will enjoy them as much as she loves spinning them. You can find RM Walker online and she promises not to bite. https://www.facebook.com/rm.walker.180 https://twitter.com/AuthorRMWalker https://rmwalkersite.wordpress.com https://www.instagram.com/boshomengro

Book preview

Aperio

I t goes right back . Lily pointed at the page. See?

I can’t. Only you can.

Oh, yeah. The twins had shown her when Jonas had let her look at his book.

Hestia was linked to Morris, and then two names beneath; Fitzgerald and Norman. Fitzgerald led to Lynda and Sarah and then her name was underneath Sarah’s with a connection to Drew.

If I’d have looked at this when they first showed me, I’d have known that Lynda wasn’t my mother, she mused.

You wouldn’t have believed it, he replied. You were in denial for a while.

Yeah, much to Nate’s delight, she admitted.

Not the most patient of people, I take it?

I frustrated and worried him. They thought I’d get superpowers, or I’d blow something up when I turned eighteen. She turned the page.

What happened when you turned eighteen?

Well, I didn’t get an extra eye in the middle of my forehead. I’m grateful for that. It was just another day, really.

Normally, you’d already be in your full powers, trained by the current seer. It’s a ritual, a coming of age thing.

A ritual? Like slaughtering a virgin and offering the heart to Hern the Hunter?

He looked sideways at her. "Sometimes, though it pains me to admit it, I sympathise with Nate when it comes to your imagination. Virgins weren’t sacrificed to Hern or any other god or goddess for that matter. These days you’d be announced to the Council as the next seer to take the seat, that’s all. Long ago you’d live in a convent until the active seer died and then brought before the king.

Convent? She pulled a face.

Yes. If you weren’t a virgin on announcement you’d go into isolation. Kept away from court life to live in shame.

I knew there were virgins in it somewhere, there always are. She poked the page with her fingertip. And what a misogynistic approach. What did it matter if she was a virgin or not? And how on earth would they discover that?

The king would have taken his conjugal rights.

Conjugal rights? She snorted. His conjugal rights? I’d tell him where to shove his conjugal rights.

And he’d have taken your hands as punishment.

I’d have cast him into next week or given him a serious case of boils on his dick. No! I’d have castrated him with a spell.

He laughed, wincing. Remind me never to upset you.

She laughed, looking back at the book. It’s getting confusing. Why can’t it look like a family tree?

Read the names and I’ll draw it. He fetched a pad and pen from the cabinet behind him and sat back down. Okay, what were Hestia’s parents called?

Elizabeth Collins married Ronald Smyth, seer to the Reformation. Hestia was their only child, she said.

He linked the names together. Whose line are you tracing?

Elizabeth and Ronald were both witches according to this. Elizabeth’s dad is David and her mum’s Rosie. Neither of them were magical.

All right, skip to Ronald; who are his parents?

Clarence and Oliver Smyth. Ah, Oliver was also a witch seer. Oliver’s dad was the previous witch seer. There’s been a witch seer in every generation back to six. The force is strong in my line.

It is indeed.

Lily read through to the beginning of the eighteenth century. In all the generations, there were only two with no witch seer. She went back to Elizabeth Smyth.

Jonas is wrong, isn’t he? she mused, coming across more magical folk than not.

He’s lost touch with reality stuck in the back of beyond for so many years. Add in your boys sucking any intelligence out of him like leeches, and it’s no wonder he’s lost the plot.

I’ll ignore that, she murmured.

Good for you. He patted her shoulder.

Didn’t you look in this? Didn’t you see Sarah was a seer on here?

No. I’ve only recently got this. I know my family line anyway and never thought to look at Sarah’s. Cup of tea?

Yes, please. She nodded. Oh my god! Dad!

What? He turned back to her.

I’m related to them.

Who? he demanded.

My boys; Matt, Nate, the twins. It’s very watered down, but there’s a connection.

My granny to the power of five, had a niece called Bonnie. She had Cynthia who married Boyd Mayberry. Boyd had Robin, who had Frank, who had Judith! Something tugged at her memory. Something important?

Judith? he asked.

Judith is the boy’s grandmother. Their mother’s mother.

It’s a small world when you’re not magical, even smaller when you are, he said.

Especially considering the multi-species flavouring you have going on.

Multi... He levelled his eyes at her. Your line through Sarah is pure witch. If there was the odd vampire or wolf shifter, I’d have been more surprised.

I have to tell the boys! She dug her phone out of her pocket.

Tell them you’re too close for a relationship with them.

I’m not, though.

No, but it’d be fun to hear their reaction.

She poked her tongue out at him; he wiggled his eyebrows at her and stood up. Tea?

Please. She pressed Josh’s number.

Hey, babe, need us to come and tuck you in?

Always, she replied, her smile widening.

You okay? Nate asked.

Yes. We’ve been going through Sarah’s bloodline, and you’ll never guess what we found out.

How are you doing that? Matt asked.

Dad has an Aperio. Go on, guess.

You really are royalty, and we’re your knights in shining armour? Jake suggested, making her laugh.

Alas, no, but you’re still my knights in shining armour... or well, holey jeans and oil-stained t-shirts.

Oi! Josh exclaimed. No holes or oil here.

For once, Matt said. Go on, Lil, tell us.

We’re related.

Silence fell on the other end of the line, and she thought for a moment she’d lost connection.

You what? Jake was the first to speak.

We’re related. It’s very distant, but one of my great greats was sister to one of your great grans. Cool, isn’t it?

Which side? Judith or Raymond? Nate asked.

Judith.

It’ll make your blood bond even stronger, Drew remarked as he came in with a tray of steaming mugs and a biscuit tin.

He knows we’ve bonded? Nate demanded.

Keep your hair on, Drew called, putting the tray down. I saw Lily’s scars. It explains why you were wimpier than you usually are when we left.

Dad!

They’re lucky I’m not hanging them up by their entrails. Blood bonding on Samhain without knowing the entire consequences. His voice rose towards the end.

We didn’t realise.

Nate’s voice was low, so she put it onto speaker.

No, but that’s why you research first, or ask me, Drew countered.

We didn’t know how tight it’d bind us. But we’d do it again in a heartbeat. Lily is all that matters to us.

I know. Drew dunked a biscuit into his tea. And that’s the only reason your entrails are still nicely tucked inside of you. Hurt her for any reason, and I won’t be so accommodating.

Understood, Nate said. That does go both ways, though.

Drew’s lips twisted in mockery, and her stomach clenched.

Drew caught her gaze. Understood. He winked at her, and she smiled in relief.

Lil?

She took the speakerphone off and held it to her ear.

Ring us when you’re in bed, Matt said.

Yes, I will. I had to tell you that. I thought it was cool. Talk to you soon.

She put the phone down and picked up her mug. Why do you have to wind them up so much?

He leant back in his chair and crossed his legs. It’s my prerogative as your dad. Plus, it’s easy and fun. They try being nice for you, but they fail every time and the devil in me can’t help but make it harder for them.

That’s unfair. She helped herself to a biscuit.

He bit into his biscuit, and she saw the wicked humour in his eyes.

You’re just big kids, aren’t you?

Basically, he admitted, laughing.

He held out his mug in a toast. To the future and to my precious daughter who I will always love.

And to my dad who is so much more than I could ever wish for. She clinked her mug against his.

Something flickered in his eyes, but it was gone before she could identify it.

Okay, so what are you after? Buttering me up like that? he enquired.

A full pass in history.

He roared with laughter. How about this instead? He brought out his wallet and took out a black bank card with her name on it.

Her stomach flipped. I can’t take that.

Yes, you can. Yes, you will. I’ve told you, you’re my daughter. It’s nothing compared to what I’d have willingly spent on you. He held her gaze. I need to do this.

Regret and guilt shimmered in his eyes, and it made her chest ache. She took the card. Thank you. I’d have taken the pass in history though.

He rumbled with amusement. Drink your tea before it goes cold.

Wand, water, and will

A gain.

Lily huffed, slumping.

Again. Keep going till you have it, he commanded.

Can’t I have a wand? I’m sure if I had a wand, it’d help.

She expected him to laugh or get annoyed. She didn’t expect him to cross to the cabinet and return holding a slim, silver stick.

You’re joking. It was broader at one end and tapered off to a blunt square. There were no mystical symbols, just the plain silver.

Go on, try now, he said, sitting on the sofa opposite her.

She focused on the bowl of water on the coffee table. Lifting the wand, she waved it in a circular motion over the water. I’m being dumb, aren’t I? She sighed, slumping again.

Try it. You’ll never know if you don’t try. He flapped his hand at her.

Circumroto, she whispered, pointing the wand at the water.

It rippled and then spiralled into a whirlpool.

I did it! She looked up at him in delight.

There you go then. He smiled at her and stilled the water. Try it without the wand and don’t say the words out loud.

She concentrated, thinking the spell, and the water spun into a vortex.

Excellent. He stilled the water. Don’t think the word, look at the water and will it.

Concentrating, she imagined the whirling water, and it responded.

Calm it, he commanded.

Tranquillitas. The water obeyed, and she smiled.

No. Without thinking or speaking the spell. He set the water in motion once more, and she lifted the wand, her eyes on his. He shrugged, and she pointed the wand at the water and willed it to stop moving. It obeyed, and she blew out her breath,

You don’t need the wand or the spells, you need confidence.

Then why are they there?

Because others need them. Take our delightful friend Nate—

Be nice, she warned unable to stop the grin tugging her lips.

He winked at her. He’s a fairy. Fairies can practise limited magic, but it’s not intrinsic with them. They use spells and such to harness the magic to his wants. You won’t see it, as they’ll do it mentally.

They said Im is the secret name of air.

That’s right. Jonas would have taught them all the spells. He frowned. Do you think he had any idea what Hestia was doing?

Do you think he knew what they were doing?

No. He was suspicious enough to get out, though. He went through hell for them.

Drew nodded and leant his head back against the sofa, closing his eyes. He’s not a bad man, but he has to whip those boys into shape.

What do you mean?

They’re ignorant. They haven’t a clue of the magical world. All they’ve known is what he’s told them and that’s warped so far. He won’t be around forever. If they go off to university, what’s he going to do then? Campuses are the stamping ground for recruiters.

They’re like sons to him, he’ll protect them till he dies. Lily wondered if Matt had told him about leaving home. Jonas would take him in with no questions asked.

He’ll have to, Drew remarked, his eyes still closed. He’ll have to keep that cover over them for the rest of their lives. Or at least the rest of Hestia’s life. They’ll never be free from that.

Neither will we. Her gaze was on the wand, but all she saw was the woman who’d ordered the torture curse on Jonas. Jonas said healer faes are rare.

He’s right. He opened his eyes. It’s an incredibly rare gift. About five percent of any magical generation at any one time.

He said seers were rare too.

Seers aren’t as rare as healers, but witch seers are. Only one in every generation. And judging from the Aperio, only one bloodline too. I didn’t know that.

Only one?

Yes. I expect if you had the time and patience, you could go right through and find Morgan Le Fey.

Arthur’s half-sister? Lily perked up.

"A later addition to the romances. She wasn’t a relation to him. She was the chief of the nine fae who lived in Avalon. Arthur was taken by boat to her when he was dying from the battle of Camlann. The graves of Arthur and Guinevere were found in Glastonbury in the 12th century. Back then, the Tor was an island, so it’s feasible this was ancient Avalon.

Fae? But she was a witch seer too?

Yes, both. The last of the fae seers. She’d given Arthur a vision he shouldn’t fight Mordred at Camlann but wait for Sir Lancelot who’d come to his aid. Arthur listened and proposed a truce, to which Mordred agreed. Fourteen knights from each side met on the field of combat where Arthur and Mordred were to sign the treaty. An adder slithered from a bush, bit a knight on the foot and he used his sword to kill the snake. The other side saw the glint of sunlight on his blade, declared treachery and the battle began. Arthur killed Mordred, but he was mortally wounded.

Can you see Arthur’s grave still?

We can. It’s in the ruins of Glastonbury Cathedral. We’ll go next time we’re up here.

What do you mean we can? Can’t everyone?

No. They weren’t supposed to be found. Merlin came with Morgan Le Fay and interned them in the church which later became part of the Cathedral. They veiled the area with magic, so Arthur can rest in peace until needed.

Needed?

Hic jacet Arthurus, rex quondam, rex futurus. It’s inscribed on the tomb and means: Here lies Arthur, king that was, king that shall be. Legend has it he’ll return in the hour of Britain’s greatest need and inaugurate a golden age.

He’s missed the boat on that one then. Two world wars were Britain’s greatest need.

Maybe it’s a magical need. Who knows? Much is lost in history, let alone the stories of Arthur.

But Arthur, Merlin, Morgan Le Fey, they’re true?

Yes, that part is.

Just out of interest, did Merlin use a wand?

He frowned at her and then shrugged. I don’t know, why?

Just wondered. What about a training wand like this? She held up the silver wand he’d given her.

No idea. Does it matter?

No, well, no. Not really.

You don’t need it either, but if it helps for a while, hang on to it.

It’s yours.

It’s nothing special, just one I had lying around.

You don’t use one, though.

No, I don’t. None of us do. Think about it. How are you going to explain to someone that the door shutting was a draft while you’re waving a wand around?

She laughed. It doesn’t feel as good as I thought it would, to be honest.

Don’t be too disappointed. Wands have changed to fit fairy tales, anyway. Originally, they were dowsing rods. They’d break a Y shape branch from Hazel trees. When the branches finished, they’d split the Y and use them for protection in the home.

I still prefer Disney’s way.

Well, being able to turn the boys into flies has its merits, he mused.

She threw her cushion at him, and he caught it, laughing.

Come on, get on with it.  No wand, no spell, he ordered.

She pulled a face and set the wand on the coffee table next to the bowl.

Don’t get lazy, or dependant now, and you won’t have a problem later. Will the water into a vortex and lift it clear of the bowl.

What? She stared at him.

He tilted his head, and she gasped as the water spiralled and rose into the air like a mini tornado. The water lowered into the bowl, and he smiled at her. Your turn.

She’d asked him to teach her everything he knew; she couldn’t give up at the first challenging task. But, damn, she hadn’t realised how hard it would be.

Focusing, she made the water rise into the air while spinning. Excitement rippled through her, and she lost concentration. The water splashed onto the table.

She looked at him, wincing. Sorry.

Don’t be, just clean it up.

I’ll get a cloth. She rose, but he stopped her with a hand.

No, use magic.

She eyed the coffee table. Will it?

Will it.

She concentrated, and to her delight, the water evaporated leaving everything dry.

I did it!

He grinned. I didn’t doubt you. I don’t doubt you. Now stop doubting yourself and there’ll be no stopping you.

To do things with magic without having to concentrate would be liberating. To be free to cast spells as she wanted. Except she wouldn’t be free. She’d never be free, none of them would until Hestia was rotting in her grave.

What put that face on you? he asked.

Hestia. She’ll always be there to stop me, us.

There’s not much we can do.

There must be. Anger rose inside, coating her mouth with a bitter taste.

Lily. He snapped his fingers, catching her attention. It’s not time yet.

You said that before. Time for what?

Retribution.

You are planning on taking her out, she whispered.

I didn’t say that. All things will eventually balance out. She’s changing the course of nature, the course of magic. Nature won’t allow her.

Yeah, well, Nature better get on with it before she finds Matt.

Or you, he murmured. Nature sometimes needs a helping hand.

What are you saying?

Just making an observation. Now stop stalling and keep practising. I’ll make a start on tea. I want you to split the water into three vortexes by the time I get back. He got up.

Three? She stared at his retreating back. He was mad if he thought she could do three. No way!

Yes, way. Three. He went out, laughing.

I thought this was a holiday, she called, folding her arms.

It is. That’s why I only want three and not the five I should expect to see.

She huffed; he’d be lucky if he saw one. She shook her head and focused on the bowl.

There’s no water in it, she crowed. I’ll have to try later.

Water splashed into the bowl from nowhere, and she pulled a face.

There you go, don’t say I never give you anything.

I wish you didn’t give me that, she muttered, glaring at the water.

You’re welcome.

She made a rude noise and sat forward.

Chalice Well

She was ready to go home, to be with her boys. Even with ringing, texting, and the connection between them, it wasn’t the same as being with them.

Drew taught her a lot and they’d spent time in his library pouring over old magic books. He taught her dark spells and showed her how to control it. Despite the underlying ache of missing her boys, she’d enjoyed being with him.

He’d saved what he called the best place till last. It was special to him, but he wouldn’t say why, telling her to wait and see.

As soon as she got out of the car at Chalice Well, she’d felt the magic in the air. It was encompassing, invigorating, and filled her with a happiness that made her smile.

She couldn’t stop the laughter from escaping her as they walked the meandering paths through the beautiful gardens. Magic hummed around her, tingled across her skin like bubbling water. Alive, real, tangible almost.

She reached out, wanting to touch the magic, and butterflies danced from her fingertips.

Not here. We’re not alone, unfortunately. Drew winked at her.

What is this place?

Different things for different people, he replied. Some stories say it was where Joseph of Arimathea washed the cup used at the Last Supper, turning the water red with the blood of Jesus. Hence the name Chalice. For us, it goes back much further, to the beginning of time. Magic in all its purest forms exists here. Here is where I’m closest to Sarah.

They sat on a bench nestled against the curved hedging in the Sanctuary gardens. He leant his head back, the late afternoon sun dancing across his face. A small smile played around his lips as he closed his eyes. It was the most relaxed she’d ever seen him. He was content here, the tension draining from his posture.

Explore. You’re safe. Just don’t let your magic slip. He didn’t open his eyes.

Taking the hint, she kissed his forehead and got up. She wandered down the path leading to the Chalice Well.

A few late summer flowers still clung to the last of their glory, but autumn was advancing, and the ground was falling into sleep.

She swept her fingers through the air as she walked. Energy sizzled through her, leaving peace in its wake. Wandering slowly, she soaked up the surrounding beauty, committing it to memory. For her, this was the closest to pure magic she could get. It was stronger than Dozmary Pool, the forests, or the ley lines surrounding Trenance.

She descended rough, moss-covered steps into the Wellhead. The cover was removed and stood behind the Well, guarding the source of life. She looked down the grating, lights illuminating the red of the water flowing beneath her feet.

She crossed to sit on the surrounding stone wall and tilted her head back, letting the afternoon sunshine warm her face. Peaceful contentment washed over her, taking away the stress.

Oh! Look at that! Isn’t it beautiful? It’s the same symbol from the entrance gate.

It’s boring, can we go yet?

Tourists coming into the circular area disturbed her peace.

Two sullen looking tweens followed their parents. The dad didn’t look too interested, but the mother was soaking it up as she studied the cover.

It’s called a Vesica Piscis. Drew stepped down behind them, his hands in his pockets and an easy-going smile on his face.

Pardon? The woman turned to him.

The design is an ancient sacred symbol. Two interlocking circles. The circumference of one circle going through an identical circle.

What does it symbolise? she asked, studying the cover.

Catch us up, Vera, I’ll take the kids to the shop. The father was already moving away.

Okay, she called before turning to Drew. Do you know?

Union. The spirit of heaven and the matter of earth.

And the line through the middle?

That’s based on a mediaeval design. It’s a lance passing through the circles, possibly to represent the lance used to stick Jesus in the side on the cross.

Or splitting the union? she asked.

Yes, or protecting it, he replied and sat next to Lily. Have you tried the waters yet?

No. Reggie worried I’d get parasites.

You won’t. The water is pure and can be drunk safely. Try the healing pool too.

It’s safe too?

Trust him. He’s the doctor—Lily quipped—of history.

Well, if the doctor says it’s okay, I’ll try it. Vera smiled, and offering a wave, she left the wellhead.

I want to show you something. I think you’ll like it. Drew turned to her.

Okay. She stood, brushing off the seat of her jeans.

I can show you here. They’re the only visitors here except us. Everyone else has left.

She sat back down and looked at him.

He held his hand out to her. Watch.

She clasped his hand, electricity crackled between them, and she sucked her breath in.

A wave of dizziness blurred her eyesight and made her nauseous. She tried to pull her hand free, but the nausea passed, and her vision came into sharp focus.

No longer in the Wellhead, she was in the Sanctuary and it was night-time. A full, heavy moon hung above, casting a silvery glow on the gardens.

Movement caught her attention and held her captive. Sarah came into view, a bouquet of wildflowers in her hands. A garland of matching flowers encircled her hair. With her head lowered, she looked through her lashes at a much younger Drew. There were no lines on his face and no pain in his expression. He was gazing at Sarah, his adoration clear. No one else was present, but she didn’t feel intrusive. They were her parents, her blood, and it tugged on her heart.

With the Lenten Moon as my witness, I promise to love you, cherish you, and share my all with you. Your breath will be my breath. Your heart will be my heart. Your blood will be my blood. We are one. Drew’s soft reverent voice carried through the night air.

With the Lenten Moon as my witness, I promise to love you, cherish you, and share my all with you. Your breath is my breath. Your soul is my soul. Your heart is my heart. Your blood is mine. We are one.

By Blood.

A flash of silver and Drew sliced his palm and then Sarah’s, before pressing their hands together.

By Spit.

He captured her mouth in a passionate kiss. Lily’s cheeks heated. Now she was intruding.

By Seed.

It occurred to her what seed meant when she heard Sarah laugh and Drew growl.

They sank to the ground, and Lily covered her eyes with her hand. No way did she want to see this. Ever. Never ever.

You can look now. Drew laughed, tugging her hand from her eyes.

She was back in the Wellhead next to him. I was about to be eternally scarred. Knowing your parents must have got it on at some point is one thing, seeing it is quite another.

He laughed and slung his arm around her shoulder. I wasn’t showing you that much. I wanted you to see how beautiful she was.

She loved you very much. I could feel it. She turned to look at him, but his gaze was on the well.

There wasn’t a day I didn’t thank the gods she was mine. If I could change places with her now, if it had been me who’d died, I’d do it gladly. I would do anything to get her back. But there’s nothing I can do.

Is your soul fading? she asked.

I thought it was, he replied, looking at her. For a long time, I believed it was, but then I realised I wasn’t fading. I was waiting for you.

Thank you for showing me, she whispered.

He smiled, his gaze returning to the well. She laid her head on his shoulder, content to soak up the peace and magic. And wonder just what might have been.

Happy Birthday

Joint birthday parties with the twins were normal. His was so close to theirs it had always been the same. He was used to it, they all were.

But he wasn’t used to his father not being there. Or the disappointed worry because the girl he shared with his cousins was late to the party.

Granted, she wasn’t that late. He’d only got there three minutes ago himself, but he was already clock watching. They all were.

Matt buried his betrayal deep, refusing to think of his father, and concentrated on Lily. The bond confirmed she wasn’t hurt. The itch that started the moment she left had grown worse with every day. He needed her back with him. They all did.

Oh, shit.

Nate caught Matt’s attention, and he looked over his shoulder. He faced the bar, clenching his fists.

I think he’s drunk, Nate muttered.

Where’s my son? His father’s voice rose, and the room went silent.

Harold! You made it!

Matt winced at the forced brightness in his mother’s voice.

Of course, I made it. He’s my son. Where is he? he bellowed. What are you doing?

Matt looked over his shoulder as his uncles hustled his father into the back room.

Matthew. His mother came over, the smile on her face as false as the lashes on her eyes. Your father has managed to be here for you. Come and see him before he goes back to work, darling.

If he drives back to work like that, he’ll be doing six to ten years for drunk driving, he sneered.

Enough. Come now, Matthew. I won’t ask again.

You’re not asking now, he pointed out, shoving his fists into his pockets. Lead on, Mother.

You need us with you? Nate asked.

No, thank you, boys, you carry on, she answered.

Nate gave her an apologetic shrug before looking back at him. Matt?

Matt nudged Nate’s arm. I’ll be fine. Wait for Lil.

His mother clicked her tongue, spun, and walked away, her head high.

Matt followed behind her, aware of the looks from the locals.

My father’s busy, he mumbled, not knowing why he had the urge to defend him.

Aye, works hard, does your pa, one man said. He’s a good man.

Matt escaped through the door behind the bar. He stopped in the hallway, pushing his hands through his hair.

That’s how everyone viewed his father. A good man, a good politician who took his constituency seriously. He was just a lousy father and husband.

Matt sucked in a breath and went into the living room. His uncles were by the window, talking in a whisper while his mother fussed over his father. He ignored her, staring into the glass of whiskey in his hand.

He shut the door harder than necessary and got a kick when his father jumped, spilling his drink.

You know where I am if you need me. Jimmy crossed to the door. He clapped Matt’s shoulder. Happy Birthday, Matt.

Thanks, Uncle. Matt watched his father get to his feet.

I want to talk to Matt. His father turned to him. Alone.

Of course, we’ll go back to the party. We can’t forget the twins. Her cheerfulness was a façade. He saw it now, saw the front she’d been putting on for years and he hadn’t seen it through his own pain.

Touching her shoulder, he stopped her at the door. As she looked up, the depth of misery in her eyes twisted his heart. He placed a kiss on her forehead. Thanks, Mum, he murmured.

Tears filled her eyes, and she gave him a wan smile before following his uncles out.

We need to talk. His father paced, hands behind his back. Are you still seeing the slut?

He clenched his fists. I’m not seeing your mistresses, Father? What made you think I was?

His father stumbled to a halt, glaring at him. What did you say?

You heard. But if you meant my girlfriend, yes, I am still seeing her. That won’t change, ever.

Then I still disown you, that won’t change, ever. His father threw his words back at him.

There was no point in repeating history, and he turned, leaving the room. The noise of shattering glass accompanied his father’s roar. He grabbed Matt’s shoulder and spun him to face him.

Matt yanked away, breaking his hold. Don’t you dare touch me.

You’re my son! I should take the belt to you! Beat some sense and morals into you. You and your degenerate cousins.

I’m not your son. Matt got into his face. You disowned me, remember?

You’d throw your own family over for a bit of skirt? For a few fucks? You can then pick up anywhere, boy, they’re all the same. One pussy is the same as another.

He swung his fist into his father’s jaw, sending him into the hall table. It toppled and everything crashed to the floor.

Matt’s uncles pushed past, grabbing his father as he lurched towards him. Fury contorted his face, his eyes wild.

You filthy ingrate. Arrogant son of a bitch. Ungrateful pervert. You deserve to rot in hell with your cousins and your—

Steve and Adam hustled him into the living room as Jimmy stood in front of Matt. Nate and the twins were behind him, but everything was out of focus.

Calm down, son. Jimmy put his hands on his shoulders, but he shook him off.

Matt. Nate touched his back. Just hang on, it’s going to be okay.

You’re ruining the party, Matthew. He could hear his mother’s tears. Everyone could hear you.

He had to leave, to get out, before the anger consumed him.

We’ll join you. Josh touched his elbow.

He heard the hushed murmurs from the bar. Fodder for village gossip for years to come.

Matthew? Where is he?

He winced at the sound of his grandmother’s disapproving voice.

I need to go. I’ll be fine. I just need to clear my head. He looked at the twins. It’s your birthday too, and I’m ruining it for you.

Bugger that. You’re more important than a birthday, Jake said.

Someone needs to be here for Lil. She’ll be here soon, and I don’t want her on her own here. He reached out with his fist, and whereas before they’d made a complete circle, now they left a space. It didn’t stop the magic from zipping through him, but it wasn’t the same, and it made his chest ache.

We’ll let you know when she gets here, Nate said, lowering his fist.

He nodded and went to the back door before his grandmother could catch him.

His dislike for his father was growing, for everything he’d done to his mother, to him, to their family. So why did it hurt? Why did he still yearn for his acceptance, his love? Why was it so fucking hard?

Despite his claims to his cousins and Lily, he’d hoped it’d blow over. A sliver of hope had risen in him when he’d heard his father’s voice. But that last piece had shattered with a punch to his father’s face. A punch he didn’t regret.

More of a man than you’ll ever be.

Lily hopped out the back door, whistling through her teeth.

Give them my love! Drew’s falsetto voice made her laugh as she turned to wave at him.

I’m sure they’ll return it, she called, and he barked with laughter.

When hell freezes over they may see me as a friend, but not before. He waved her on and shut the door, his laughter still ringing in her ears.

Drew’d kept his promise and got them home before lunch. She’d enjoyed herself with him and she was glad she’d gone. But she was relieved to get back to her boys. The hum in the back of her mind itched. She itched. To touch them, bond with them now they were so close. She broke into a jog as she crossed the car park.

A flood of anger brought her to a stop and almost to her knees. One of her boys was furious, and it hammered into her. She couldn’t pinpoint which one, but the intensity knocked the air from her.

Movement out of the corner of her eye had her straighten, still gasping for air. She stumbled backwards as Harold came into the car park, heading towards his car. He saw her and stalked towards her. She struggled to force down the anger still ricocheting through her. It was Matt’s anger, and Harold must have been the cause.

You! You girl! He pointed at her.

She caught her breath as