Page 29 of Cocktails & Cauldrons

“There is absolutely no intrusion, uh—I didn’t catch your name, dear.”

“Brenna Sullivan,” Alastair supplied.

Aurora’s head whipped back and forth between them. “From the gallery? Didn’t you mention you met a sweet young girl?”

“I did, and this is her.”

Unable not to, Brenna grinned at being called a sweet young girl. That she’d made an impression on someone as worldly and sophisticated as her host was flattering to the extreme.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Brenna. My husband told me you saved him from your overeager aunt. For that, you have our thanks.” Aurora groaned. “Oh! She’s still your family, isn’t she? I just put my foot in it again, didn’t I? Blame my lack of tea. I was waiting for Al to come home before I ate.” Frowning at him, she said, “Why do you look guilty? If you had tea without me…”

“Only half a scone,” Brenna said quickly to stave off any conflict.

His wife shook her head and smiled widely. “Sorry, my dear, but I know my husband too well.” To Alastair, she said, “She really is delightful, darling. I think she’ll fit in well with our crowd.”

“Uh, thank you?” Feeling confused, Brenna followed the couple into the house, pausing to sniff a rose here or trail her fingers over a leaf there. In less than a week, her life had been drastically altered. It was mind-boggling to think she was walking through such a lush landscape with honest-to-god witches like these two.

“Mr. Thorne?”

He’d halted by the French doors, patiently waiting for Brenna to follow. When she called out, he returned to her side. “Yes, Ms. Sullivan?”

“Please, call me Brenna.” She inhaled deeply and asked the question upmost in her mind. “Do I have the ability to do what you did? To go from one place to the other so quickly?”

“As one of the oldest magical families in Ireland, the Sullivans possess great power. I don’t know any of them personally, but I’ve always kept my pulse on the community as a whole.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “I suppose what I’m trying to say is that, yes. I believe you should be capable of teleporting like I did.”

“If I figure out how to unleash my potential abilities, will you teach me?” She hated to ask, but she had no one to show her such things. If she had, they’d have taught her already.

“I can. But I have a niece around your age who’s knowledgeable about everything in our world. She has a photographic memory and can recount every enchantment or potion she’s ever read.” He tucked his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. “I believe she would be better suited to teach you how to use your abilities. Don’t you agree, Rorie, my dear?”

Aurora leaned forward and peeked around his shoulder. “What he’s trying to say is that Spring isn’t as stuffy as Al is. It might be more fun to learn from her.”

He raised his brow and looked down at his outspoken mate. “You really are a pain in my left butt cheek.”

She laughed and smacked his ass. “There. Now I’ve made it a fact.” Blowing him a kiss, she headed for the house. “Tea is in two minutes, lovelies.”

“Goddess, I love that woman,” he said, admiration heavy in his voice.

“She’s fantastic,” Brenna replied.

“That, she is, child. That, she is.”

CHAPTER 12

Spring Thorne was even more beautiful than her mother. With chestnut hair, gleaming jade-green eyes, and curves that went on for days, she intimidated the heck out of Brenna. Then she opened her mouth to speak, and Brenna’s ability to converse intelligently disappeared altogether. She mumbled a lame excuse and crossed to the bookshelves on the other side of the study, pretending an interest she didn’t feel.

“She has that effect on everyone,” Alastair said from beside her.

His comment eased Brenna’s insecurity and tension enough for her to say, “I think that’s a repeat of the very first words you spoke to me.”

“I believe you are correct.” He chuckled and handed her a glass of wine. “I imagine you’ve had a long day, my dear. If you want to take your wine and go to bed, you can, but I believe Spring might have insight on what’s happening with you.”

“I’ll stay.” She took a careful sip of the wine and sighed her relief upon tasting it.

“Not like the swill your aunt served at the gallery,” he murmured right before walking away.

She snorted a laugh—as he’d probably meant for her to—and dutifully followed him across the room to where mother and daughter happily chatted away.

“Ah, I’m glad you decided to join us, Brenna. Spring was just telling me a delightful story about her sister Winnie’s triplets. I fear they’re running their parents ragged.”

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