Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation by M. R. Sellars

proximity of the
college. That, and the book bags and notebook computers propped on
their tables. Complimentary wi-fi internet access was one of the
advertised features of this particular shop, and from the looks of
things it was definitely being used.
    But, the truth is they didn’t really matter.
They were strangers. The people I didn’t want hearing this
conversation weren’t. They were family.
    “Well, I wouldn’t say private, exactly,” I
returned with a shrug. “Maybe just somewhat confidential.”
    Even though I had been trying to set up this
face-to-face with her for better than two months, I was finding it
hard to get the ball rolling. Now that the opportunity was finally
here, I had to take advantage of it and I knew that—even though my
head still hadn’t stopped pounding and a phantom pain was once
again setting up shop in my neck.
    “In other words, you wanted to speak to me
without Shamus around,” she replied.
    “Well, I think we both know I’m not his
favorite person,” I said, struggling not to wince as a fresh sting
made itself known. Unfortunately, I failed miserably and felt
myself physically twitch.
    “Are you okay, then?” Maggie asked, furrowing
her brow as she looked at me.
    I nodded slightly then picked up my
overpriced cup of coffee and took a sip, for no other reason than
to stall while the stab faded. “I’m fine,” I told her. “Just a
headache is all. Tension probably.”
    “Did you take anything for it?”
    “Yeah. I took some aspirin before I left the
house. Hopefully they’ll kick in soon.”
    I knew full well the handful of analgesics
weren’t going to get rid of the pain, they never did. But if I was
lucky, they just might dull it enough for me to function, at least
until I was back home and didn’t have to do anything other than
stare at a wall.
    “You aren’t coming down with something, are
you?” she asked.
    “Maybe,” I agreed to appease her, just as I’d
done when I’d heard the same thing from my wife the day before. As
common as the simple question was, the way she asked it gave me the
distinct impression Felicity had picked up a few verbal traits from
her mother as well.
    Before Maggie could push any further, I
continued my earlier thought. “So, like I was saying, since I’m
sure Shamus would just as soon not have any more contact with me
than he has to, I thought we should meet someplace other than your
house.”
    “He would just have to get over it then,” she
replied. “But I certainly understand your not wanting to deal with
him right now. We all know Shamus can be very vocal about his
opinions, not to mention totally unreasonable as well.”
    “Thanks for seeing my side of things,” I said
with a slight nod.
    There was a time when I would have been
shocked to hear her say that about her husband. I had long been
under the impression I was merely tolerated by the majority of my
wife’s family, especially her parents. I couldn’t be sure of all
the factors surrounding the negative sentiment, but I knew the
primary reason was because of my religious beliefs since I had been
told as much. In fact, I had even been accused more than once of
corrupting Felicity, which was laughable given that she had been a
practicing Witch long before I ever met her.
    However, very recently, some of the dynamic
had radically changed due to an O’Brien clan secret that had been
brought into the light. With it had come a personal revelation
that, while minor in comparison to the secret itself, was
monumental to me: it was the fact that Shamus was really the only
one who truly had the issues.
    Unfortunately, his self-righteous attitude
where I was concerned hadn’t dulled in the wake of the shakeup,
even though he was actually the one harboring the dirty deeds. It
didn’t seem to matter to him that the family skeleton revealed was
the fact that he had carried on an extramarital affair with his
sister-in-law, Caitlin, and had even fathered a child with