Page 18 of Pints & Potions

“Useless boy, go ask your sister for willow bark, chamomile, and lavender oil.” He opened his mouth to ask why she couldn’t whip those up as well, but she answered before the question left him. “In other words, I want you to go away.”

Cian clamped his jaw tight, planted himself next to Piper’s side and clasped her delicate hand in his. “I’ll stay to see she’s healed.”

Pausing only a moment, GiGi gave him a brisk nod and conjured the items she needed to go to work.

One minute transitioned to ten, and still, they all stood around waiting for Piper to wake. By the concern on the three other faces, Cian suspected she should’ve recovered by now. Hell, even a mere mortal should’ve woken up from that light blow to the jaw. Most knockouts didn’t last but a hot minute.

“What’s wrong with her?” he finally asked as he rubbed Piper’s cold hand between his two much larger, warmer ones. “The tap to her jaw shouldn’t have knocked her out this long.”

“I don’t know,” GiGi admitted. “I agree with your assessment.” She touched a stone on her silver charm bracelet and said, “Brother, I need to talk to you.”

He felt Piper’s hand twitch, and he peered closer at her face.

The ring of GiGi’s phone distracted him, as did her quick conversation to relay the circumstances surrounding Piper’s injury.

Less than one minute later, the atmosphere crackled, growing heavy then contracting to steal all the oxygen from the room. Seconds later, the air around them settled and another man took up residence in the large salon.

Alastair Thorne, if Cian wasn’t mistaken. Of all the warlocks in all the world,thisone was the guy he didn’t care to meet in this situation. Or ever.

The man wasn’t as tall as Cian would’ve thought, no more than six feet one. He had a modest build but completely filled out the shoulders of his navy-blue suit. Bored but alert sapphire-colored eyes summed up the situation in an instant, and Alastair turned his steely gaze from Piper to pin Cian in place. Those same disturbing eyes swept the length of Cian’s body and returned to his face to linger for a nerve-wracking heartbeat or two.

What the guy saw was anyone’s guess because the elegant warlock was the type who didn’t give much away. Not one emotion played out on his remarkably handsome face. He could be a statue for all the life he showed, and yet, his presence was commanding. His look was arrogant, as if he were a supreme ruler and everyone around him was insignificant at best.

“O’Malley, I presume?” The man’s voice was as haughty as the rest of him, and Cian bristled at the tone.

“Yeah. And you are?”

Alastair’s lips twisted and his eyes lit with cool amusement—the first real emotion since he’d arrived. “Your worst enemy if Piper doesn’t wake up soon, son.”

Cian swallowed hard and did his best not to soil his pants. He wasn’t a coward, but Alastair Thorne was a legend and a deadly adversary. Cian, on the other hand, was known to hold his own in a physical fight, but with no real magic to speak of, he was useless against someone as powerful as this mighty warlock.

Again, Alastair’s eyes swept him as if weighing his worth. “You struck her?”

“No!”The word came out as a squeak. Ashamed of his lack of manliness, Cian cleared his throat, lowered his voice, and said, “No. She attackedme. I threw up an arm to deflect her punch and she moved into my fist.” He inwardly cringed at how implausible it sounded, but it was the truth all the same.

One dark-blond brow shot up, very much like his sister’s had earlier. “Aren’t you splitting hairs, boy?”

“Perhaps, but it’s important you know I’d not strike a woman. Even one who set out to kick my bollocks into the next century.” He grimaced in remembered pain. “My darlin’ Piper has killed any chance of future O’Malleys from my line.”

“Yourdarling Piper?”

“Oh, leave off torturing him, Al.” Ryker clapped Cian on the back. “He didn’t harm her on purpose. Piper mistook what she witnessed.”

“According tohim.” Alastair’s tone switched into dangerous territory.

Left with no choice, Cian recounted the tale, leaving nothing out, but maybe adding a few embellishments because he was Irish, after all, and his people were known for their fabulous story-telling skills.

During the retelling, Alastair examined Piper’s head, neck, and jaw. He barely spared Cian a glance when he’d finished. Finally, Alastair brushed a hand over one of her dark brows. “It’s time to wake up, child.”

She remained sleeping.

“I’m worried, Al. This isn’t normal,” GiGi said fretfully.

“No, I agree it isn’t normal. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s purposeful.” He shifted and placed an arm under Piper’s legs, moving into position to lift her.

Cian knew he had no right to object, but he found himself doing it anyway. “Just where do you think you’re takin’ her?”

Everyone in the room froze at his challenge.

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