Page 2 of Whiskey & Witches

The salty sting of tears burned the open, raw wounds of her face.

Meg.

Gone.

Somehow, she’d already known that her larger-than-life, sassy sister who held the world in the palm of her hand was dead. Her rebellious sister who only truly wanted the one thing she could never have:Carrick. Roisin’s beloved husband.

“I’m not a healer, but I can pause the internal bleeding until I get you to hospital for the help you need.”

She opened her eyes and stared into the silvery depths of her savior. No longer able to manage speech or movement, feeling her life force fading, she blinked.

“I’m going to need you to hang in there and not die on my watch, Meg.”

His hand burned where it rested over her heart, but she felt the suffocating fluid filling her chest cavity recede, and her breathing was marginally easier. Turning her head away from his too-intense stare, her gaze touched on her son lying by the side of the road.

Aeden!

Her panic returned, and she feebly shoved at the thick, muscled chest holding her.She’d been unaware of speaking, but the gentle giant holding her was quick to ease her fear.

“I’ve put him to sleep. He’s not hurt but for a little smoke inhalation. The fire’s out now, and he’s safe.” He touched her hand. “If you know what I am, you know what I can do, Meg. I’m going to use my magic to probe your spine for injuries, and I need you to stay perfectly still for me. You can do that, yeah?”

She didn’t have the strength to move or speak, so she simply blinked her acknowledgment, feeling suddenly detached from it all.

A pulse of power, just shy of an electrical zap, slowly traveled from the base of her skull to her tailbone, hesitating around the area of her low back as if it were exploring that area.

“Nothing severe, but I think you have a few fractures, love. I need to get you out of this bloody mess, which means you’re going to experience a bit more pain.”

She opened her mouth to protest but closed it again as blood trickled out in place of her words.

“I’ve no choice, Meg. The whole thing could blow.”

With great care, he used his magic and large, gentle hands to ease her out of the wreckage, then strode with her to where Aeden was curled up. Bending, he used the hand supporting her legs to touch the crown of her son’s head. Roisin’s cells warmed, starting with the nucleus and burning outward, heating her entire body as he teleported them away from the crash site.

The sounds of an ambulance in the distance and of nearby shouting indicated they’d arrived at hospital.

As the blackness crowded the edges of her consciousness, she heard her rescuer’s smooth, confident tone as he explained the situation to another and handed her off to the medical personnel. She had enough presence of mind to grasp his hand and squeeze—the only thanks she could manage.

“Aeden is safe,” he murmured. “We’ll contact his da. Rest now, love.”

And so she did.

CHAPTER1

10 MONTHS LATER

Aeden O’Malley was playing in the yard when the blonde witch arrived. Even at the ripe old age of seven, he knew what she was. Her light was brighter than most, meaning she was magically stronger than others like them. But even as he watched, it flickered as if it could go dark at any second. As if maybe she didn’t have full control over it.

“How are you getting on, Aeden?” she asked, her pleasant smile reminding him of his mother. Everything reminded him of her. But she was gone now. Hurt so badly in a car accident that she was still in life-threatening stasis, unable to have visitors, according to his da.

Hurt by evil.

He’d tried to sneak off and see her once, only to get lost on the way and later be found by his worried da. His father had punished him for “takin’ years off his fecking life” and made Aeden promise never to attempt it again. The panic and mist of tears in Da’s eyes had made the promise an easy one.

As the witch moved closer, Aeden jumped to his feet and barred the walkway.

Her gentle smile shifted into a frown, and she looked beyond him to the door of the cottage, then back down at him. “Are you all right, Aeden?”

He wanted to ask why she was here. Demand to know why she kept returning to see him, but his vocal cords refused to work most days. His throat had been damaged after he inhaled too much of the smoke from the flames surrounding the vehicle his mother had driven. Six months later, he’d stopped speaking to anyone but his da due to the pain, and he’d learned to sign, communicating with his hands and a few grunts. Once or twice during a nightmare, he managed a terrified scream, and he could still speak, but not without difficulty.

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