Page 37 of Cocktails & Cauldrons

“I can see you know how to appreciate a fifty-year-old scotch. Well done, my dear.”

“Gran loved Glenfiddich.” She nodded toward the bottle with the stag emblem. “It was her favorite go-to when celebrating or imparting wisdom.” Nostalgia washed over Brenna as she sippedher drink. The alcohol contained notes of orange with vanilla, and although there was an underlying taste of oak, it had a mild sweetness. The rich flavor filled her senses to full, and she silently saluted her gran on her excellent choice of whisky. With a sigh, she placed the glass on the coffee table in front of her and faced Spring. “Tell me why you think Aunt Odessa’s hold is weaker, please.”

“Your appearance, for one. You’re nothing short of gorgeous, Brenna.”

With a quick glance at Eoin, who confirmed what Spring had said with the smoldering heat in his gaze, Brenna nodded, barely suppressing the need to preen. Not once in her entire life had she been called gorgeous. The sensation was headier than the booze.

“And for two?”

“Your ability to conjure monsters in the walls. Toconjureanything, really. My understanding from Uncle Al and Eoin was that you didn’t know you were a full-blown witch before today.”

Again, Brenna nodded her acknowledgment and to confirm what Spring had learned.

“The truth is, Odessa couldn’t contain your power for long. A Siren is at her strongest when her desire to mate takes hold.”

In the midst of taking another sip of her scotch, Brenna choked. Her throat and lungs were on fire, and she coughed until tears streamed down her cheeks. “Holy macaroni! That burns!”

Spring’s musical laughter annoyed the blasted hell out of Brenna as the other woman thudded her back. Spring knew she’d get a rise out of her, and why she’d said it was questionable. Brenna daren’t look at Eoin, or she’d accidentally conjure a hole in the floor to eat her up.

Quickly dismissing the image, lest she actuallydoit, Brenna ran a shaky hand under her eyes. “Mating and desire. Got it.” She cleared the remaining heat from her throat. “Does this meanI can break free of the curse attached to Eoin and me? The allergic reaction, as Mr. Thorne called it?”

“We discussed it while you were sleeping, and we believe it’s why you split off from yourself the way you did. As a work-around to the adverse reaction you have when he’s close. You were able to manifest an entirely new form. None of us have ever seen it done or even heard about an astral projection like yours.” Spring clutched Brenna’s hand. “And ifIhaven’t read about it, it’s probably never been done. You could very well be the strongest Siren of your line!”

Her excitement was contagious, but at the same time, Brenna didn’t dare embrace it. She couldn’t forget what she’d done in Eoin’s bedroom and how tempted she’d been to sing to him. Or how she’d rubbed herself against him like a cat in heat, practically purring when he held her to teleport here. Who was that woman? Certainly not her. Or not the her she had been.

But maybe she liked the new version of herself a little better than the old Brenna. The take-charge attitude was different for her, but it garnered results. Slowly, as she processed all she’d discovered about herself, she nodded. The way she saw it, she could either keep her abilities and hone them, or she could find a way to get rid of them once and for all. Because it didn’t seem right to reject the gifts she’d been born with, Brenna decided learning to control herself was the better option of the two. For now. If at any time she became a threat to others, she’d find a way to rid herself of magic.

“So, is there some type of Hogwarts for people like me?”

Spring grinned. “I’d hoped you’d ask that.”

“Spring wants you to move in with her while she trains you in the ways of a witch,” Eoin said.

The crushing rejection Brenna experienced made it difficult to acknowledge him, but she kept her chin high and pretended it was no concern of hers, even though inside, her gutswere churning. Was she back to being homeless and jobless? Technically, she hadn’t lost the homeless status, but if Eoin didn’t want her working for him, she’d need to find gainful employment as soon as humanly possible.

“But sure, and I don’t like the idea of you so far away,” he added.

Brenna jerked her head up and met his fierce gaze. The admiration and concern for her seemed real, but were they a reaction to the seductive power of a Siren? She had no answer other than she didn’t like the idea of being so far away from him either. But she couldn’t tell him that, and she no longer intended to wear her heart on her sleeve. No one needed to tell her, but she instinctively understood the curse attached to her could, and probably would, become more severe should she ignore it to remain with him. If Aunt Odessa had created it to control her, then she’d have thought of contingencies should Brenna continue on her current path.

“I want you to meet someone before you make a decision, child.” Alastair drained his glass and set it on the sideboard, where it promptly disappeared. Brenna wondered if she’d ever get used to things of that nature. This entire situation she found herself in seemed too fantastical to be real.

“Who?”

“His name is Damian Dethridge, and he’s what is called an Aether.”

“I don’t know what that means. Well, other than Dubheasa and Eoin discussing a baby Aether.”

After a long look at Eoin, Alastair said, “Damian is the balance between good and evil, darkness and light. He can give or take magic on a whim.” He narrowed his eyes. “I want him to read your energy and determine if you are worthy of remaining around those I care for. I’ll not have you endangering their lives, whether intentionally or not.”

“Al—”

He held up a hand, interrupting his wife. “Do I make myself clear, Brenna?”

“Crystal.” She clasped her hands in her lap, nearly cutting off the blood flow. She made a decision then and there. It used her remaining courage, but she was damned if she was going to be bossed around anymore. “And let me make myself clear, Mr. Thorne. I’ve had quite enough of domineering individuals. I believe you truly want to help me, and for that, I’m appreciative. However, I no longer intend to reside under someone else’s thumb.”

Expression arrested, as if she’d surprised him, Alastair paused for a heartbeat or two before barking out a harsh laugh. “You and Damian are going to get along famously, Brenna Sullivan. I guarantee it.”

With those words, Alastair Thorne instilled a near-debilitating dread inside her. A clearer warning didn’t exist.

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