Page 25 of Pints & Potions

Cian had chosen to cover his sister’s shift as he’d indicated earlier, to allow Bridget to catch up with her coven sister. And Piper found it a challenge to remain at the table when the main subject of her interest was likely next door, slinging drinks to lively pub patrons.

She could use the chaotic distraction of a bar, but if she went there, she’d probably moon over him all night. Self-torture wasn’t her gig, and she refused to fawn over a man who was only available for a one-night stand.

The main thing that played on her mind was the problem of Granny O’Malley’s elixir—or lack thereof. Bridget hadn’t brought it up to GiGi, and Piper suspected she wouldn’t for the sake of pride. The woman seemed steeped in it. In all honesty, Piper had been surprised Cian had confessed their issue earlier. However, they’d both been kind and she felt the need to help.

“Bridget, may I ask about Granny O’Malley’s special potion? Cian mentioned you’d used the last of it without any way to recreate it.”

Bridget’s lips compressed into a tight line, and from the fire in her eyes, she intended to bodily harm her brother for discussing their family business with a total stranger.

Compassion filled GiGi’s lovely face, and she touched Bridget’s hand. “What’s this about?”

“It’s true enough. Carrick’s wife used to conjure what we needed in the past. Since Roisin’s been gone, we’ve not had a way to create more. We used our last batch yesterday.”

“There’s no recipe to go by?” Piper asked. She had the fleeting thought that Spring might be able to provide any herbs for the recipe. With her working knowledge of plants, the woman was a miracle worker.

With a grimace, Bridget got to her feet and crossed to an old wooden built-in bookcase. There, she withdrew a leather-bound tome. A distinct thwack echoed in the dining room when she dropped it on the table.

“It’s located somewhere within these pages. Damned if I know where, because this bloody book is temperamental and refuses to give up its secrets.”

GiGi turned thoughtful. “How did Roisin recreate it before?”

“By doubling our existing supply.”

“May I?” Piper rose and skirted the table, stopping in front of the ancient grimoire. “Wow! This might be older than the Thorne’s.”

“After the first book was gifted by the gods and goddesses to the first witches, this was the next created.” Bridget ran a hand lovingly across the embossed Celtic design on the front cover. The tree of life was encircled by smaller, round Celtic knots. In the corners of the book were more Celtic designs, in the shape of triangles. All in all, a beautiful family legacy.

With reverence, Piper traced the design. Her fingers tingled when she came to the tree roots, and they all gasped when the tree lit up. The glow brightened the entire room before fading out.

“What in the world?” GiGi jumped up and repeated Piper’s actions, but without the same effect. “Has that ever happened before, Bridget?”

Wide-eyed, her friend shook her head. “Never.”

“Touch it again, child,” GiGi instructed Piper.

Following the same pattern as she did the first time; Piper outlined the design. The tree lit again, flaring brighter for longer. The grimoire’s magical light show held them all enthralled.

“What do you think it means?” Piper asked.

As she drew back, the cover flipped open and the pages fluttered back and forth as if a great wind rustled them. It stopped abruptly, about three quarters of the way toward the end of the book. She eased forward to read the page.

“Think this is your Granny O’Malley’s recipe?” she croaked out. She looked at Bridget, who had covered her mouth with her hands and stared at Piper through tear-bright eyes. “We can recreate it, Bridget. It’s all right here.”

With a squeal of pure joy, Bridget launched herself at Piper and hugged her tight. “You’ve no idea what this means to my family. No idea at all.”

“I’m glad to help. We’ll see what we need and gather the ingredients to get started in the morning. We’ll have a new batch for you to try in no time.”

“Thank you, girl. Your stay is free for as long as you care to remain.”

“Nonsense. This is your business, and my money spends as well as the next person’s.” Piper’s tone was firm. “But I won’t object to another of your wonderful dinners while I’m here. There’s nothing I can conjure that’s this tasty.”

Bridget hugged her again. “I’ll make anything your heart desires.”

Can you make Cian love me?

Uncomfortable with the unasked question, Piper glanced down at the recipe in the book. “Let us confer with Spring. There are a few ingredients I’m not familiar with, but it’s usually a simple matter to whip up.”

“I’ll dish up the apple cake while you consult with them.”

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