Incomplete
Chapters:
24/?
Focus:
Cillian MacDuff & Owen Hayes
Story:
Magic and murder go hand in hand, if you're a blood witch. Cillian MacDuff is certainly not one. But when strange symbols start showing up alongside ever-increasing mangled corpses...
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"Naw, Preacher Man," Cillian was explaining. "Eoin ó Ceallaigh an' Eoghan Burke are different people, an' their names are also spelled different."
Owen simply gave him a flat look. "So there's three people named Owen here, including me. You're not messing with me?"
"You're American Owen. Ó Ceallaigh is 'e-o-i-n'. Burke is 'e-o-g-h-a-n'. We also call Eoin ó Ceallaigh 'Blond Eoin'."
Owen frowned. "No. Wait. You're definitely messing with me. There's no way that second one is pronounced the same as my name. I can buy the first one. But. 'E-o-g—whatever' has got to be a joke."
"Ask him, then."
"Absolutely not! I'll look like an idiot either way!"
Cillian giggled a bit. "I'm not havin' you on, Preacher. I swear on both me parents' graves. Besides, if you think that's bad? There's like, three Pádraigs in the family. An' Scottish half is worse. Come on. I want you tae meet Seán."
"Three?" Owen asked as he allowed Cillian to drag him across the room where he was introduced to an, admittedly, rather attractive man who looked to be about their age.
The stranger had dark auburn hair that hung in thick waves just past his shoulders and bright blue eyes and the kind of perfect smile that was almost irritating. Owen thought he looked vaguely familiar, somehow.
"This is my ma's cousin's kid, Seán Murphy," Cillian told him. "We were pretty close, growin' up. He's still my favourite cousin. Seán, this is Owen Hayes."
Seán laughed, holding out a hand to shake Owen's. His grip was firm and warm. "American Owen. Cil hasn't shut up about you in months. It's great tae finally put a face tae the name."
"You talk about me?" Owen asked.
Cillian's smile held a million secrets. "Only tae people who matter. I tell them how much you're drivin' me crazy."
"Oh, Cil," Séan cut in. "You were already crazy. Hell, you were born with a few screws loose."
Cillian flipped Seán off, but he clearly wasn't offended if the grin on his face was any metric. "Arsepiece."
Sean affectionately looped an arm around Cillian's shoulders, drawing him into a half-hug. "Did he ever tell you about the fact he used tae throw rocks at wasp nests for kicks?"
"Please telling me you're not actually that insane," Owen begged Cillian. "I wouldn't put it past you. But I want to believe you're not that deranged."
"I definitely am. Liked the adrenaline rush of runnin' away," Cillian replied. "Like me less?"
"Never," Owen said, surprising himself a little with the immediate honesty.
"You two are cute," Seán said.
Cillian was about to say something that was probably sarcastic, but he was snatched up by the waist and spun around by someone much taller than all three of them. He dissolved into laughter as he was carried off into the crowd.
