Page 22 of Whiskey & Witches

A muffled noise by the doorway caught his attention, and he sat up to peer into the darkness. He always left a nightlight on for Aeden, but it wasn’t currently glowing. Although it was on a sensor, bulbs burned out on occasion.

After shoving back the covers, he padded to the stairs and listened, worried Roisin had decided to climb them, despite her condition, and that she’d possibly injured herself further. Earlier, she’d elected to stay the night but refused to sleep in their bed, instead choosing the sofa. No amount of arguing changed her mind.

“Stubborn fecking woman,” he muttered.

A shiver of awareness hit him a second before the attack. That slight premonition saved him from a bashed skull, and he ducked. A hurling stick slammed into the wall beside him. The instinctive need to protect his family clicked into place, and he went into defense mode, rising up and balancing on the balls of his feet.

His brother Cian had trained him well, and Carrick had a surprise move or two up his sleeve. His first was to bend sideways and kick out toward his assailant’s midriff. The whoosh of air from the guy’s lungs was satisfying to the extreme, and Carrick followed it up with a front kick to the man’s chest, sending him crashing into the wall.

Upstairs, the sound of his son’s running feet could be heard, and Carrick hollered a warning. “Hide, Aeden! Don’t come out until I call for you!”

Feeling as if he were in a fight for not only his life but for that of his son and Roisin, Carrick channeled his fear into a deadly calm. But what was left of his prickly anger built inside him, and one by one, his cells warmed to just shy of burning. Acting on pure instinct, he held his hands roughly a foot apart and allowed the tingling heat in his body to gather between his palms. A pulsing cobalt ball formed and crackled. Tiny sparks of steel-blue flames flared higher until the room was lit with an eerie glow and revealed the intruder.

Seamus McLeary stared at the energy ball in horror. His wide, terror-filled gaze then locked with Carrick’s arctic one.

“Youdareattack my family, Seamus McLeary? We welcomed you into our pub.Into our homes!And this is the repayment you see fit to give?” Rage ruled Carrick now, and he wanted to maim. But the small, still-sensible part of his brain required answers. “Why? What have we done but offer you friendship?”

“It’s not personal, Carrick. Ya should know that.” A look of chagrin came and went on the man’s anxious face. “Ya own what I want, ’tis all.”

Blinding fury filled Carrick, needing an outlet, and without a second thought, he flung the magical weapon he’d conjured.

Seamus must’ve recognized the intent, and he saved himself without a second to spare. He dove for the open side door as Carrick gave chase.

“Da!”

Aeden’s hoarse scream stopped Carrick’s pursuit, and he swung around to see his son huddled on the top step.

“Here, and I told you to hide,” he admonished. He cast one last glance at the door and took the stairs two at a time to reach his son. Scooping him into a tight embrace, Carrick thanked Anu he woke when he had. “Where’s your mam? Did you see where she went?” he asked as he scanned the living room from the upstairs landing.

Aeden, in his high state of agitation, couldn’t answer. He attempted to move his hands, and Carrick eased his hold to allow his son to sign.

“Outside.”

Carrick’s blood ran cold.

Seamus had run out back!

If he encountered Roisin, would he try to hurt her?

“Get in your room and lock the door,” Carrick ordered and wasted no time tearing down the stairs to find his wife and assure himself she was all right. When he couldn’t find her immediately, his heart plummeted to his stomach.

“Roisin!”He didn’t care if his bellow woke the entire fucking village at this point. He needed to find her.“Roisin!”Frantic and on the verge of a complete meltdown, Carrick raced to the front yard, but his wife was nowhere to be found.“Roisin!”

Adjacent to his property, the O’Malley’s Black Cat Inn came to life. One by one, lights flipped on and shone from every window.

Bridget rushed out to join him on the lawn. “What is it, Carrick? What’s happened that you’re screaming loud enough to wake the dead?” She seemed more worried than irritable as she cinched her robe and shoved back her messy mass of hair. “Why are you shouting for Roisin?”

“She’s missing.”

“Missing?” His sister looked taken aback, and she surveyed the surrounding area then drifted toward the road that led to Roisin’s family cottage. “I don’t understand.”

He gripped fistfuls of his hair and growled. “I’ve not time to explain, Bridg! I’ve got to find her!”

Beside him, Aeden—who clearly disregarded his order to stay put—signed an explanation to Bridget. His hands moved at such a rapid pace, even Carrick had a difficult time keeping up with the conversation.

“Seamus McLeary paid us a visit tonight, hurley in hand. He tried to use my head for practice,” Carrick told her impatiently to clear up her confusion. “I need to find Ro. Aeden said she was outside, and I fear she may be hurt.”

“Then we’ll all look, yeah? I’ll place a call to Cian and Piper, and they can search the property to the fence line. She can’t have gone past that, not this fast.” Bridget clasped Aeden’s hand in hers. “You go to her cottage, Carrick. I’ll mind Aeden until you return.”

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