Page 32 of Cocktails & Cauldrons

“Trapped?” Knox’s wary gaze surveyed the room around them, looking for enemies as if he was preparing for a second attack.

Martin, Alastair’s head of security, stepped forward. “Yes. It was the oddest thing, sir. Whoever or whatever was behind this tried to come through the drywall, stretching it like silly putty. Like something out of a horror film, if I’m being honest.” A slight tremor wracked his body, and Alastair had a difficult time containing his laugh. Martin feared nothing and was top-notch at his job.

“That’s exactly how I would’ve described it.” Alastair eased Brenna down on the closest sofa, then addressed his staff. “Let’s get on the wards. I want to know why they failed.”

“They didn’t, sir. The perimeter hasn’t been breached. This came from within.” Martin shook his head. “I don’t know how or why, but something inside the house caused this.”

Aurora’s shout caused him to turn back toward Brenna. The young woman’s body was floating a foot or so above the sofa, and she was encased in a shimmering blue light.

“Spring, I’m going to need you to find out everything you can on Sirens. What would cause her to do what she did here, and why has she put herself into stasis.”

“Is that what she’s done? Have you ever heard of anyone in stasis floating?” Rorie inched closer, lifting a finger as she prepared to poke the glimmering bubble surrounding Brenna.

“Don’t!” Alastair gripped her wrist and drew her back as an electrical current arched and struck where her hand had been. “That’s a fierce protective force field she’s got going on, my love. It’ll knock us all into next week.”

“Fascinating,” Spring murmured. “Okay, I’m on it.”

In seconds, she was gone with Knox on her heels.

CHAPTER 13

Chapter 13 has been omitted because the author is of the superstitious variety. Feel free to take a break, feed your pet, and pet your spouse. Then return for the next part of Eoin & Brenna’s story.

CHAPTER 14

When Brenna dreamed, it was of Eoin.

He was reclining, half-asleep, in the bed she’d occupied at the Black Cat, in nothing but a sheet, his back against the headboard, half-asleep.

“Eoin.”

Opening his eyes, he tried to focus on her in the darkness as he frowned. “Brenna, love, what are ya doin’ here? I thought you’d left with Alastair.”

“I did.”

“Did he cure ya, then?”

She shrugged, unsure if what happened tonight could be considered a cure. But she didn’t need to answer, since she was in a dream state. Hell, maybe she was dead and not just dreaming. Wouldn’t that be something? To be stuck in a loop with Eoin in the bed with her unable to be with him.

She sat on the edge of the mattress and stretched out a hand. “Should we try it?”

He placed his palm flat against hers, and when she didn’t react, he curled his fingers over hers and tugged her closer. “What did you do different?”

“What do you mean?”

Fingering a lock of her hair, he lifted it so she could see. “You’ve added highlights and smoothed your curls.”

“I can’t remember doing that,” she murmured. When had that happened? Was she losing her damned mind?

“And your glasses are gone, too. Sure, and ya must be wearing contacts.”

She wanted to touch a finger to her eye, but the idea of doing so gave her the heebie-jeebies. That squeamishness was the primary reason she still wore glasses. “No contacts. But I can see you just fine.”

He drew her to kneel between his sprawled legs, and he ran his clever fingers over the planes of her face before burying them into her hair and tugging her face closer. “You were beautiful the way you were, Brenna Sullivan. I told ya you didn’t need to change a thing.”

“I didn’t,” she protested softly.

A twinkle lit his impossibly green eyes, and he gave her the devastating grin that always weakened her knees. “Aye, ya did, but I’ll not argue the point anymore. Stay the night with me, love.”

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