Page 87 of Pints & Potions

“Alastair, where is Moira being held?”

“A Council cell. I believe Ryker is with her. Why?”

“She has something I need.”

“Meet me at the upper garden of my home. I’ll take you.”

She envisioned the landscape of Alastair’s estate. Her cells heated to burning, and when she arrived, it was to see Alastair striding out the double doors.

“Is this to help your young man?”

“Yes.”

“Come, child. I doubt we have time to lose.” He held out one of his scarred hands. With the other, he drew a symbol in the air, and as she watched, a crack in space opened between the garden and the Witches’ Council grounds. Keeping a tight grip on her, he tugged her through the veil between locations.

Most people wouldn’t recognize the difference between a teleport and stepping through a fold—the difference seemed subtle—but only the most formidable of magical beings had the ability to open a portal like he had. It was a rare gift, usually given from a god or goddess. Since it was thought by many that Alastair was Isis’s favorite, it wasn’t a guess who’d favored him with his unique talents.

“I’ve never been on WC grounds. Do you know where to go from here?” she asked.

Not bothering to answer, he gripped her elbow and ushered her toward a building on the other side of the paved courtyard. Council members lingering in the public area shot them odd looks, ranging from alarmed to resentful. Or rather, directed them at Alastair—and all from a respectable distance.

“You aren’t well liked, are you?” she asked in a hushed voice.

A wry smile twisted his lips as he held open the door for her to enter the prison. “They fear me. It brings with it distrust and hatred.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have no need to apologize, child.”

“It’s for me that you’re here, having to deal with their pettiness.” She touched his arm, hoping to convey her deep-felt apology. “I know you are an empath, Alastair, and I can only guess how much their viciousness must hurt.”

“I learned a long time ago to tune all of it out unless I’m in a dangerous situation.” He shrugged. “Think nothing of it. It’s actually useful to have them fear me.”

How he could be so blasé about the constant barrage of negative energy was beyond Piper’s comprehension, but he was Alastair Thorne and was a majestic island unto himself.

“I’ll warn you, don’t allow Moira to get into your head, Piper. I’ve known her kind. She’s a master manipulator and will do or say whatever is necessary to hurt you.”

“Because of Cian?”

“No. Or not completely, from what I can tell. She’s after something greater, I believe.” He grimaced. “For the moment, I don’t know what that is, but I intend to find out.”

“Ryker cares about Cian. I’m sure he’d be willing to help you figure it out.”

“I believe Rafe has also had a run in with Moira before. I’ll be sure to check with him, after this.”

“Rafe? As in Liz’s Rafe?” If Piper dragged Liz’s husband back into the world of intrigue and danger, her cousin wouldkillher.

Alastair chuckled. “One and the same.”

“Great,” she muttered.

“I won’t tell Liz that Rafe’s future involvement stems from this. It’ll be our secret.”

“It’s all right. I’d rather she know the truth. She might make my death swift and painless.”

Alastair’s wide grin always made Piper happy when she witnessed it. Rarely seen, it was like sunshine through a storm and brought with it hope and lightness.

Ryker met them in the corridor. “If you’ve come to question Moira, she’s gone.”

---