Serafina asked why he hadn't shown her those books and he nearly froze like a deer in headlights. It wasn't all that common of an occurrence for the usually confident warlock. The last thing he wanted to explain how difficult it was to be with her without actually being with her. He paused for a moment, for once considering if he should even say the words at all. At last, he decided to admit the closest thing to truth. "Its difficult being around you, knowing you've moved on. I needed some time." He shrugged. Some time to wallow in his own pity party was more like it. But he really didn't need to paint that sad picture as well as admit the truth. Why couldn't he just paint a pretty lie or deflect? Probably because those stormy eyes could see right through his bullshit. "But if you want an excuse to come over.. my.. books are always available to you." there was that insinuation dancing off his tongue yet again. Deflecting but also truthful.. If she wanted to gaze upon those books she would have to come over and see them herself.

She bit her lip and he couldn't help but his gaze to be drawn to those lips he was once able to kiss. "Don't be modest, you're more of a magical force than I will ever be." There was a fondness in his words, he wasn't envious, no he was proud of her. Since when did she become so modest? How badly he wanted to reach out to her, cradle her face like he had done a million times before. But he didn't want to blur those lines he was so desperately trying to forge for himself. For his own god damn sanity. Serafina was a difficult woman to get over. It probably didn't help for the simple reason that he truly did not wish to. Don't worry honey, he was going to keep it deep down inside. He wasn't about to make a muck of the life she now had. But some emotions just couldn't be turned off. Fuck, he hated how complicated things were. So many rules.. too many rules.

Even as she raises her voice at him, he couldn't help but admire that fiery spirit, even when it was directed at him. She was so much like the turbulent sea, knowing very well how dangerous she could be and yet he could hardly bring himself to stop venturing out. "The things that went through that I know about seemed to come after me, it was like they were bloody hellhounds or something." He decided to leave out the one that he blew up in a suburban neighborhood park. Judging by the way she looked at him now, he would imagine that would not go over too well.

He decided to sidestep her harsh words about how royally he screwed up. He was so very aware of it, but he was out of his depth, even as he attempted to fix it. Even if the reasoning were selfish and not for the betterment of mankind. He really didn't possess many options here. She may have rolled her eyes and threw her sarcasm at him, but he knew she couldn't stay mad at him for long. She never did. At least some things, he hoped, never changed.

The duo trudged through the forest, he was well too aware that her mind was a waging storm while he was feeling bad for himself. His pride was wounded, not that it took much these days and she was pretty much the only one that could wield the dagger that injured him. Especially after he spoke those genuine emotions. He cursed her mentor. Not that cursing it would ever do him any good.

Who would have thought that this Irishman would feel relief at seeing the portal, at least he could focus on something other than his souring mood. He threw a rock into the portal, eyeing it as it rippled and sucked that rock into oblivion. He also kept an eye on the particular minx who made her own observations with skilled eyes. She was getting a little too close for his own comfort, so he issued a warning. He knew if she went into that portal he would dive have in after her, even knowing what that meant. God, this woman would be the death of him.

The eerie silence of that forest gave him the creeps, that silence seemed almost deafening. He wasn't sure what was worse, the silence or that negative power assaulting him. It still made him feel a little nauseous and suffocating.

She uttered a quick spell, chanting it in a tongue he had recognized in the books he read. Gibberish. That is exactly what it sounded like. Although, he did recognize some of those words. The spell seemed to work as it brought forth that angry blood red circle. It appeared like it was bleeding, as though that red substance rose from the ground. He fought the urge to touch it. Those very runes looked ominous and he didn't need to know what they meant in order to determine they were bad news. The whispers though, that only added the topping on the satanic cake. Although part of it felt familiar, part of it felt like it was calling out just for him. He shrugged his shoulders as if trying to rid himself of that dire sensation. He asked her if she felt it too. Or was this brand of horror was made specifically for the Irish man, the portal was fashioned for him was it not? He nodded in agreeance not even sure what he was agreeing to. He was enthralled by that ancient power that coiled about him, he suspected that was all part of it, the temptation.

He explained how he met that king in that sleazy bar, one of his regular haunts, even if the beer was piss poor. He gave her a very brief rundown that he had made a deal with the king of Italy to obtain a book. The only thing he was apprehensive of was the tea party, but he was willing to endure just about anything to put an end to this madness. "You sure that's the only reason why you want to come Sera love?" He raised a brow, that roguish grin spread across his lips. "But of course, you are more than welcome to come with me. I will let them know I have a plus one." He probably had to let those kinds of people know about things like that, didn't he?

He asks her what she might need for this protective circle. Was she not aware of these nifty newfound powers? Surely, she knew how he produced that bottle of whiskey. "Your wish is my command.. I could always make you a flamethrower..." He had to admit he was so bloody confused but she knew what she was doing and he wasn't going to question that. Witches ingredients always seemed so particular. "But why would you need matches for someone passing by?" He asked curiously.. Maybe he would make the flamethrower just for fun. That would surely work.

He started with the knife, that was easy enough. A pretty little dagger with intricate detailing on the hilt. Next, the bowl.. he focused on it suddenly producing a medium sized bowl.. He hoped it was the right size. He put the knife in the bowl, then the cinnamon sticks. He liked the spicy smell of cinnamon. He probably looked like a mad magician producing things out of absolutely nothing but his sleeve. The next was a shell, he produced a small conch, he didn't bother to look inside it, hoping there wasn't a mollusk still inside. He tossed it carelessly in the bowl with a clink. Next were the matches, he tossed them with the rest of the items casually. Hmm.. What was next?

Oh yes.. Salt... Just how much was a lot? She didn't specify, only said a lot. Maybe if he kept summoning salt until she got back that would be enough. Yes, that sounded like a plan. He turns his back to the portal. "Almost done here.." He called out to her, his eyes scanning for her amongst the trees. That was when the portal shimmered and a large doglike creature leaped out of it, the Irishman was oblivious. "See not entirely.. useless for a warlock." He never really finished the less part of useless because the creature leaped at him, barking and chirping excitedly. He was eating dirt before he realized what happened, he had crashed into the ground with a resounding thud he felt through his skull. The ring in his pocket went flying out of his pocket and somewhere close to where the bowl was. But Brennan hardly noticed.

"OOf." He exclaimed with that heavy creature on him licking his face. He yelled, scrambling to right himself. He was going to get mauled to death, at least the pretty little Serafina was the last thing his tired eyes would see. But then the whimpers from that creature seemed almost happy. Huh?

Once he was able to actually get himself in a position where he could see, he could hardly believe his own eyes. It couldn't be him... He saw him die.. right? Right before that beast turned on him. "Barnyboy, is that you??" He could hardly hide his own excitement. "I'd recognize that ugly mug anywhere." He uttered fondly. The large hellhound was practically leaping around him, happily as if attempting to get him to play. It knocked him over again as he pulled the big brindled beast into a fierce bear hug. He wondered if Serafina had heard the commotion, she had to, she hadn't gone that far.

Brennan O'Connell