Page 59 of Pints & Potions

Cian heard Piper’s sharp intake of air and his heart beat extra hard. Whatever they’d started, whatever he’d been about to confess to her earlier would have to wait. The moment was ruined by ugliness and bitter memories.

22

“What was that about, Cian?” Piper asked quietly as they walked toward the back of the inn. It had hurt her to hear his nastiness in respect to Meghan and Moira, and Piper wondered if he held a poor opinion of all women in general.

“It’s not for you to worry about,” he replied in a low, angry voice.

Her disappointment was keen. Part of her had hoped he trusted her enough to let her in, but he’d confirmed he didn’t. Nor would he ever. “Fine. I’ll leave you to it. Good night.”

As she picked up her pace, he ran to catch up, grabbing her arm to swing her back around.

“I’m sorry, Piper. It’s not you that has me salty.” The apology was heavy in his tone, and his expression held regret. “That woman is poison to everyone and everything she comes in contact with. I’d not have her taint your world in addition to ours.”

Understanding for his bad behavior came. Piper wouldn’t completely excuse it, but she could forgive. Feeling the need to warn him, she touched the hand still holding her arm. “She’s a powerful witch, Cian. Be careful of her. If she’s truly as awful as you suggest, you’ll be defenseless against her magic.”

“You think she’s enchanted my brother?” he asked, as if the thought just occurred to him. He shot a worried glance toward Carrick’s house.

“It’s possible. He appeared taken with her—and very much in love.”

A sickly expression passed over Cian’s face. “How do we break her hold on him? Can you help me? I’ll not have that foul bitch dig her claws into him.”

“Of course, I’ll help.” She pressed her palm to his worried face and drew his attention back to her. “We’ll protect your brother and Aeden from her. I promise.”

His relief was palpable, and he enfolded her in a crushing embrace. “Thank you.”

She rubbed his back in soothing circles, noting the slight tremble of his muscles. Whatever and whoever Meghan was, she scared Cian, and Piper would kill the woman herself before she allowed her to hurt him or his family. Especially Aeden.

“Will you tell me the story?” Piper didn’t want to be pushy, but she needed background on the situation if she intended to help.

“Come. It’s getting chilly, and this requires a drink and the comfort of a fire.”

She followed him into the house, shooting one last look over her shoulder. She couldn’t shake the feeling someone was watching from the shadows. After Cian had left her to confront Meghan, the sensation of another presence struck her, and it hadn’t abated.

Was Meghan’s evil reach all-consuming? Did it stretch like tentacles, able to wrap around everyone and everything, to spread poison, like Cian suggested?

“Do you think she’sthe Enemy at the Gate, like in the prophecy?” Piper asked, as she accepted the glass of wine he handed her.

“Nah. I think that’s Ruairí, based on something he said tonight. I’d not had a chance to talk about it before now, but he said it plain while we were tending bar.”

“What was it?”

“He was waxing on about his feelings for my sister. His exact words were, ‘I still love her, but to Bridget, I’m the enemy at the gate.’” Cian shook his head in wonder. “I don’t know how I didn’t figure it out before. Bridget should be the rightfulKeeper of the Sword, as she’s the eldest O’Malley.”

“Right!When the Enemy at the Gate is welcomed by the Keeper of the Sword, all that is lost shall be restored.” Piper’s excitement made her squeal and she flung her free arm around his neck. “You brilliant, brilliant man!”

Cian laughed and pressed a light kiss to her mouth. “I said much the same to Ruairí.”

“Bridget needs to accept and forgive him.”

Some of Cian’s joy fled from his face. “It will be snowing in hell when that happens. I suppose we’ll never be blessed with our rightful magic.”

“Miracles happen every day. Don’t give up hope, Cian.”

“Oh, I’ll never give up hope, love.”

The twinkle in his eye and the devilish smile on his tempting mouth sent a rush of warmth through her. She fought the urge to fan herself.

With his gaze locked on her mouth, Cian stepped closer, took her glass, and placed it on a nearby table without looking away from her. “We should start on that baby,” he said huskily.

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