Page 23 of Cocktails & Cauldrons

His gaze dropped to her cheek, and he took two large steps backward. “Would ya be up for a little test, then? To prove you aren’t either a Siren or Succubus, as Alastair claims?”

“Of course!” Brenna looked from one to the other in rapid succession, desperate to prove she was normal.

“It’s a simple matter, yeah?” Eoin met Alastair’s thoughtful gaze with a nod. “She passes the test, she’s good in your book?”

“I suppose so.” Alastair nodded slowly. “But how do you expect to prove anything, son? You can’t get within ten feet of her.”

“Well, sure, and we’ll have to fix that problem first, but I have an idea.”

“I’m all ears,” the older man stated dryly.

With hands on hips, Piper shook her head. “I don’t like it.”

“You haven’t heard anything yet, Piper. How is it you’re not likin’ it when ya don’t know whatitis?”

Despite the thick tension in the room, Brenna smothered an inappropriate giggle. Eoin had a way of pointing out the absurd and making light of it. That ability was one she had admired from afar whenever she heard him work his wiles on potential art critics and customers alike. He charmed everyone with whom he came in contact.

Glaring her displeasure, Piper waved a hand for him to continue.

He lifted a thick tome of a book. “The answers are in here. I remember reading about Sirens as a kid.”

“Wait! No O’Malley has been able to open that book for years. Not since Goibhniu’s curse, if what Cian and Bridget told me is true.” Piper looked confused as hell, and Brenna felt sympathy, because she was right there with her.

With a shrug, Eoin gave Piper a secretive smile. “I like keeping some things for myself.”

Trying to peer closer, Brenna leaned forward. “Is that called a grimoire?” She hadn’t seen one before, or not that she remembered anyway.

Once again, Alastair scowled. “Why is no one teaching the newer generations the basics?”

Brenna and Eoin shared a look and a smile at the man’s indignation.

“If you’ll remember, all the O’Malleys were without until recently, and Brenna claims she didn’t know true magic existed.” Eoin shrugged. “So I imagine there was no onetoteach us, yeah?”

“It’s disgraceful,” Alastair muttered, straightening his tie. Curling his fingers and gesturing for the book in Eoin’s hand, hesaid, “Hand it over, and let’s get busy with solving the proximity issue. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s allergic to you.” He halted halfway to Eoin and slowly twisted to face Brenna. “That’s it!”

“What is?” She wrung her hands and gnawed her lip.

“Your body is reacting in a negative way to Mr. O’Malley’s. But not to mine and not to Piper’s. That means Thorne blood seems to be fine, but perhaps O’Malley blood is not. Let’s try something, shall we?” Turning slightly, Alastair kept his considering gaze on Brenna as he addressed Eoin. “Be kind enough to fetch your brothers, son. We have an experiment to conduct.”

“I don’t like the idea of experimenting on Brenna.” Objection in every line of his face, Eoin took two steps forward only to immediately back up as she hissed in a breath from the burn. His resistance dissolved and turned to resignation. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left.

“What do you intend to do?” Brenna asked warily, rubbing the area of the receding pain.

“I’d like to know if you are reacting to all O’Malley men or just the one.” He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “If it’s all, then it could mean bad blood between the Sullivans and O’Malleys and you’re caught in between. If it’s the one, the target is you. Perhaps a jealous lover or someone wishing to keep you apart.”

“Not me. My only lover is dead,” she blurted. When Piper gasped and Alastair looked nonplussed, she held up her hands and shook her head. “Not by me! I swear!”

After a full minute of sweat-soaking silence—mainly on Brenna’s part, Piper sighed. “I think she doesn’t know what the hell she is, Al.”

“I’m inclined to agree, my dear. Why don’t you both have a seat, and I’ll conjure a bite to eat. I’ll assume whatever was being prepared is now a loss.”

“Eoin was about to make me scones,” Brenna said lamely as she eyed the dough with regret. Ten minutes ago, everything was normal. But all that had changed with the arrival of Piper and the opening of Brenna’s small suitcase. She caught her breath and pointed. “The odor from the case! It all went to crap when I sneezed!”

Without a by-your-leave, Alastair waved a hand and encased the travel bag in an iridescent dome.

“Holy spitballs!” To say Brenna was shocked was an understatement. All she could do was stare. Never had she known magic like his was possible, and she’d have called anyone who said it was a damned liar.

Piper snorted. “I think the term isshitballs.”

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