Page 15 of Pints & Potions

He rattled it off, and within a minute, Ryker was swearing on the other end of their connection.

“Cian, what does the woman look like?”

“Oh, she’s a wet dream.” He sighed and described her in detail. “But if we’re being honest, she screams like a banshee, has a wee vicious temper, and fights better than many o’ man I’ve seen.”

“That’s because she teaches martial arts at the rec center in her spare time, you damned fool.”

“You know her?”

“She’s my wife’s relation.”

“Don’t be windin’ me up, Ryker. It isn’t funny. I’m halfway to falling in love with the woman. I might, too, if I knew she wasn’t out to slit my throat as soon as look at me.” He reached down and smoothed a lock of hair from the flushed face.

“Shoot me a photo of the woman.”

Cian snapped a shot and hit send.

“You knocked her out?”

“She attackedme!Drew blood and kneed my bollocks into the next century. What was I supposed to do?” The long stream of colorful words from the other end of the line forced Cian to wince and hold the phone away from his ear. Sure, and he’d stepped in it with his friend. “Knocking her out was an accident, man,” he confessed sheepishly.

“Alastair Thorne is going to have your ass,” Ryker predicted.

“Why would—ah, hell no!Don’t tell me Piper is a Thorne. I’ll save everyone the trouble and throw myself off the feckin’ cliff right now.” Cian grabbed the back of his neck and started to pace. He was in deep shite. Everyone who was anyone in the magical community knew of Alastair Thorne. The man was lethal and not to be trifled with. “You have to help me, Ryker. What can I do to fix this mess?”

“First, tell me how badly she’s hurt. Should I teleport with my wife to come heal her?”

“I’m worried. She should’ve woken up by now. And, for sure, she’ll have a good-sized egg on her jaw. I’d rather she not sport a bruise around all of Ireland. And there is still the matter of finding out who wants me dead.” Cian sighed heavily. “Yeah, I could use the help.”

“Take her back to your inn. We’ll meet you there. Keep the sitting room clear of people so we can avoid detection.”

“Right. I’ll see you soon. I’m obliged to you, man.”

“Say that if I can keep Alastair or GiGi from detaching your head from your shoulders.”

Cian stared at the phone’s blank screen for a few heartbeats after Ryker disconnected their call. Gods, he was in trouble. Not only with Alastair Thorne, but with Piper herself. When the woman woke, she was going to be rabid. He toyed with the idea of dumping the whole mess in Bridget’s lap and disappearing for the foreseeable future.

A slight moan of pain shook him from his cowardly thoughts. No, he’d take his lumps like a true O’Malley. Bending, he scooped up Piper, and as he straightened, he noticed a petite dishwater blonde staring at him with suspicious eyes. How she’d snuck up on him, he didn’t care to know. He was growing soft in his retirement. It would see him dead if he didn’t apply his training more.

“Me wife. She tripped and broke her fall on a rock. I need to get her to hospital and make certain her injuries aren’t worse than they appear.”

“Of course.” The woman cautiously approached and frowned down into at Piper’s face. With a trembling hand, she touched a lock of Piper’s sweat-damp, black hair. “How badly was she hurt, and what proof can you show me that she’s your wife? I don’t see a ring.”

Damn and blast!

He had to go and stumble across a cautious American.

Bloody O’Malley bad luck.

Pasting on a rueful grin, he ducked his head to meet her concerned gaze. For a moment, he was caught by the overly bright amber irises. “Do I know you?”

Not bothering to answer, she shook her head and probed along Piper’s wound with gentle fingers. A barely discernible crackle sounded, and a faint red light arched from her fingertips.

Another witch!

What were the odds?

Not that high.

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