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“The Irish are calling him MahDoc,” Neal said to me over the phone.

I thought about it for a moment before nodding; “How fitting, MahDoc…Mad Doctor...son of the Mad Hatter. The Irish sure know how to give names.”

“Declan, this shit is motherfucking insane. He set the goddamn O.S. on fire…while he was inside it, too!”

“Wait, what?” I frowned, putting the book in my hand down. “He was inside? As in inside the fire? Is he okay?”

“Is he fucking okay?” He snapped at me. “The kid—he’s taking a quote ‘power nap’ right now, after stuffing his face with chicken and prawn Pad Thai, two bagels, and Jell-O.”

I had so many questions.

Like when did hospitals start serving Pad Thai? Why the fuck was he saying Pad Thai with a shitty accent? Did the bagels come before the Pad Thai or after? Did he just stop himself from calling Wyatt a ‘kid’ out of fear? Was he afraid of little Wyatt now?

Postponing all of those questions for the more serious ones, I asked, “Have you heard from Ethan?”

“No, but I’m not worried about it because I’m sure now that he’s the sane one out of the three of them,” he grumbled.

“Dona is the most reasonable—”

“If Dona wasn’t well on her way to being the Supreme Princess of Monaco, she would have killed Ivy or Ethan…or Ethan then Ivy, before trying to burn everyone else alive.”

The laugh that came out of me was reflex…mostly because it was crazy and true, but no longer a real possibility. It was funny. “You know who you remind me of right now?”

“Who?”

“Your father…Sedric.” He knew who his father was. I said his name only because I missed saying it. The moment I realized I wasn’t alone, I glanced behind me, toward the back of the Jet, where Evelyn sat, across from my sleeping wife, on the couch. She smiled at me, and I smiled back. Without a word between us, she went back to reading on her own. Cora had made us all book nerds.

“Why do you think so?” he asked, a little less animated and definitely soberer.

“When Liam and Melody got married, he knew what they were doing was crazy. But he couldn’t help but get excited about what might happen next,” I answered…thinking back to a time that felt like a lifetime ago.

“I remember. But you can’t say that shit to me now, man. I’m the same age as he was when he died now.”

“Fuck, you’re old.”

“Fuck, your hair is grayer than mine!”

I laughed. “That’s only because you dye it.”

“I do not.”

“Bullshit.”

“I got bull but no shit, brother. Some of us are just blessed.”

Rolling my eyes hard, I nodded. “Fine. It makes sense now that I think about it anyway…grey hair comes from stress. Stress from thinking…I guess in your case you just never—”

“The moment you get off the plane say it to my face, you little cunt.”

We were both silent…and I didn’t realize why until I remembered. “That’s that point where Liam would have said something to insult the both of us, right?”

“Or praise himself,” Neal snickered bitterly.

Inhaling, I nodded and smiled to myself, leaning back into my chair. “We aren’t burying any more of our family, Neal. I’ve seen far too many Ceann Na Conairtes come and go, Neal, in this lifetime.”

“You? What about Mom? She’s still good, right?”

I grinned. “Evelyn is made of something out of this world. I wouldn’t be surprised if she lived to be 200.”

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