Page 28 of Whiskey & Witches

Right when he’d have put the papers back inside, the light reflected off a small object in the far corner of the box. Shifting the batch of notes to his left hand, he reached inside with his right and felt around. When his fingers touched the object, he lifted it out, gasping when he understood what he was holding. The Byrne grimoire.

In a blink, it expanded from the size of a dollhouse book to that of a standard-sized spellbook, and the weight of it nearly severed his fingers when thunked to the table. Quickly shoving the hand-written love notes into the box, he put on the lid and set it aside. His fingers itched to open the grimoire, but he feared in doing so, he might open up a world of trouble.

“What do I do, Piper?”

“Obviously, it wanted you to find it. I’d say ask it for the cure you’re seeking.”

He did.

The leather-bound lid flew open, and the parchment pages of the book whipped back and forth as if a great wind had swept the house. Eventually, it settled, staying open to a specific place. He wasted no time scanning what was written.

“What does it say?” Cian asked, even as he peered over Carrick’s shoulder.

The three of them crowded around the book, reading the spell in their own time.

“This looks simple enough,” Piper murmured.

“I’ve no idea where to find these things,” Carrick said with a grim sigh.

The doors of the cabinet over the refrigerator flew open, and the contents inside clanked so loudly, he worried the glass would break.

“Aye, we get it,” he called out. “Thank you,” he added for good measure. He wasn’t one to be selfish with gratitude when the magical energy surrounding them was trying to help. After dragging a chair over to the fridge, he climbed up and peered inside the cabinet. He smiled, seeing Roisin’s beautifully organized pantry of magical goods. She loved making things pretty, his Ro. Sobering, he swallowed past the thick lump of sadness in his throat. It was probably why she took her disfigurement hard. The loss of what she’d deemed her “beauty” must’ve been devastating.

“Not as devastating as the loss of her son and husband,”the little voice in his head countered.

Without a backward glance, he asked Piper to call out the items they’d need.

“One green candle, one purple.”

Carrick dutifully withdrew both candles and handed them to Cian.

“See if you can find a pink quartz crystal.”

Again, he located it easily enough. “Next?”

“We’ll need dried mugwort, wormwood, yarrow, and St. John’s Wort, along with a copper bowl and something to grind it all into a powder.”

Carrick found it all and again handed the things to a waiting Cian. “Anything else?” When he didn’t receive an answer, he looked over his shoulder. “Piper?”

“Is it too much to hope for that she’d have basil oil and charcoal up there?” Skepticism was heavy in her voice, and Carrick chuckled.

“I don’t suppose that bleedin’ book would lead us this far and not provide all the ingredients, but if need be, can’t ya just conjure the rest?”

“The basil oil needs to be prepared at the start of a new moon. It’s a process.” She shrugged. “But yes, to the charcoal. I could always call my cousin GiGi. She’d definitely have the basil oil.”

Carrick rooted around in the cabinet and touched on a medium-size bottle. He squinted into the dark interior in his attempt to read the label. “I wish I had more bleedin’ light,” he muttered in his irritation.

His cells hummed to life, and instantly, a pale-blue glow filled the space and allowed him to see clearly.

“Holy shitballs!” Piper yelled. “Did you do that?”

“I think so,” he admitted with a rueful grin. “It’s the third time today something like this has happened. Ro was sure the magic came from me.”

Piper turned wide honey eyes to her husband and squealed. “Do you know what this means?”

Cian’s gaze darted to Carrick and returned to his fiancée. “No?”

“The O’Malley power is on the verge of returning!” She squealed again and threw herself at Cian, who easily caught her and held her tight.

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