Page 80 of Pints & Potions

Piper made it to the second landing when she heard Seamus thundering down the stairs. Terror kicked her heart rate into high gear. Her enchantment should’ve lasted until she released him.

How the hell had he broken free?

The only plausible explanations were that he was prepared for her spellorhe had an accomplice, who was scrying and waiting to reverse whatever she threw at him. Neither possibility thrilled her.

Piper and Bridget rounded the last landing and plowed into Moira. They all went down in a heap of arms, legs, and creative swear words—the last on Piper’s part as the edge of the half wall connected with the soft tissue between her ribs. The air escaped her lungs in a rush, but inhaling more was a labor.

What was it with these asshats abusing her ribs?

She spared a worried thought for her little peanut, but the other women had broken her fall for the most part.

“Piper!” Bridget attempted to drag her to her feet as she cast a frantic look toward the stairs. “You’ve got to move, woman!”

“Can’t… breathe…” Piper dredged up enough brainpower to touch her tanzanite ring and send Alastair a telepathic cry for help.

As Moira rose to her feet, an evil smile curled her lips. “Convenient. Two of you in one place. This should be easy.” She backhanded Bridget, then drew back and kicked Piper in the same place that she’d connected with the half wall.

Piper’s agonized scream echoed around the foyer. The unfolding events were hazy for her as blackness dotted her peripheral vision and her focus narrowed to sucking in labored breath after labored breath.

The atmosphere around them crackled, and she was aware of a blinding white light. In the back of her conscious mind, she heard Seamus beg for mercy and a man’s derisive bark of laughter. A triumphant smile curled her lips.

Alastair had arrived.

29

Consciousness returned in small degrees to Piper. The noises penetrating her fog weren’t those of the battle she’d recently fought. If she didn’t know better, she’d think it was a soft snoring. She moaned as she turned her head toward the sound. The sight of her father dozing in the chair beside her bed brought welcome relief, along with a heavy dose of chagrin. Once again, he was playing nursemaid. She’d be lucky if he didn’t lock her in a tower and throw away the key.

“As hard-headed and resilient as we Thornes are, you must stop pushing the limits, child.” Alastair emerged from the shadows on the far side of the room.

She shivered at the eeriness of his ability to read her thoughts. “Noted.”

“Your life will be significantly shorter than the average bear if you continue on this course.”

“Thank you for charging to my rescue again, Cuz,” Piper said with a wide smile. “I’m assuming you kicked the big baddies’ asses?”

He snorted and tugged the cuffs of his dress shirt. “Need you ask?”

She sat up and hugged her knees. “No.”

“Actually, it wasn’t me alone. Bridget was happy to dispatch Moira with a solid punch or five.”

A laugh bubbled out of Piper, and she nodded her approval. “Good. I hate that bitch.”

“I’m going to assume you mean the duplicitous Moira,” Alastair said dryly.

“Who else? Please tell me she’s rotting in a jail cell. Or Hades. I’m happy if she was cast to the farthest reaches of hell. I’m not picky.”

He chuckled as he cupped the back of Piper’s head and leaned in to kiss her brow. “Never change, child. You’re perfect exactly the way you are.”

“Thank you,” she whispered past the sudden lump in her throat. She suppressed the urge to ask why, if she was so perfect, was she so abhorrent to the male population. But she’d already decided it would be her and her munchkin moving forward.

Her hand flew to her abdomen. “My baby?”

Alastair’s surprised expression was comical. His disconcerted gaze dropped to her belly. “GiGi didn’t mention…” He shook his head and smiled. “I’m sure he or she is fine. My sister would’ve detected distress if your child was harmed.” He hiked up his slacks and perched on the edge of the bed. “I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you.” Her gaze darted to her father. “How long have I been out? He looks exhausted.”

“You slept through the healing—about three hours. Hoyt just dozed off about ten minutes ago. He’s been cleaning up the last of this little mess.”

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