Wholly Unholy

“Well,” Niamh said, “I’d have slapped him, personally, but whatever works.”

Ciaran’s eyes slipped closed, and he reached up automatically, tangled one hand in Brenna’s wild curls.

“I’d say he’s snapped out of it,” Deagan said.

“Or that she’s just snapped.” Niamh sounded too amused.

Ciaran moaned when Brenna pulled back. Her mouth was grave, but her eyes were bright.

“We don’t have that much time,” she said. “Come along. I have something you’ll want to see.”

“Under your clothes, aye?” Deagan grinned.

“Oy,” Odran said. “Not in front of the Holy Mother’s --”

“There’s nothing holy about it, old man.”