Page 31 of Cocktails & Cauldrons

“Brenna, wait!” Spring hollered. “This is Knox. He’s here to help.”

Adrenaline pumping through her veins and limbs trembling madly, Brenna nodded and backed away. “Sorry, I…” With fear in her heart, but hoping to be courageous for once, she faced the wall Alastair was attempting to hold by use of magical force andran to see what she could do to assist him. “Can you, like, tap into my magic and use it to bolster yours or something?”

He didn’t spare her a glance. “I could if yours was working properly.” The color of his skin deepened, becoming a little flushed, and he frowned as he struggled against whatever intended to enter his home. “Please, Ms. Sullivan. Go stand beside Spring.”

“Sorry, Uncle. She’s on her own. Knox and I are going to amp up your power with ours.” She touched her hand to his forearm as her fiancé protected her back and touched her shoulder. Presumably to fuel whatever spell Alastair was using to keep his enemies from entering his home.

Stunned stupid by the entire experience, Brenna watched as the air in the room picked up speed. Her heart pounded a rapid drummingta-dum,ta-dumin her throat, and it felt too thick to swallow. The temperature plummeted to bone chilling, but even as she registered the cold, a fire flared to life in the hearth. A noise similar to screaming banshees tore through the room. The shriek was torturous to listen to, and Brenna clasped her hands over her ears in an effort to stem the sound.

In seconds, Aurora was in front of her, gripping her wrists and leaning in to speak. But Brenna was unable to make out the words as the shrill screeching became more pronounced. It felt as if her eardrums were about to burst, and she couldn’t prevent her own scream at the unbearable agony in her head.

“Make it stop!” she hollered.“Please!”

A wave of anxiety,then excruciating pain, washed over Alastair an instant before Brenna screamed. Sweat beaded along his temples, and he fought the urge to bend double against the agony. But he’d endured worse. He wanted to help the girl, but if he took his attention from whatever was breaking through hispreviously indestructible wards, his family would be in serious jeopardy. And his loved ones came first. He didn’t care to think of Brenna Sullivan as a casualty of war, but he wouldn’t risk Aurora or Spring.

“Al, her nose is bleeding. I think it’s a psychic attack. She appears to hear something we don’t,” Rorie hollered through the whipping winds. “I don’t know how to help her.”

“Leave her. We’ll heal her after if we must.” Focusing his energy and pulling more power from Spring and Knox, Alastair pushed back when the threat on the other side of the wall began to gain ground. “Where the devil is our security team, and when did the wards fail?” he shouted.

The dull thud of a body hitting the floor had him half turning. However, Rorie’s cry of distress let him know it wasn’t her but Brenna who had dropped. His conscience plagued him, but he shoved it aside to continue battling the unknown assailants.

Then, with disconcerting suddenness, the attack stopped.

The wind died, the temperature climbed back to normal, and the fire was snuffed out abruptly.

“Was that the work of our phantom threat?” He nodded to the soot coating the interior of the hearth and the scattering of items on the floor.

“I thought it was you, Uncle.”

“Not me. I didn’t have the energy to spare to wreak havoc on the room,” he said grimly as he knelt beside Brenna. “How is she?”

“The bleeding has stopped, but I’m not sure what happened. She was clutching her head as if in great pain,” Rorie told him, cradling Brenna’s upper body in her lap and cleaning the blood from her face with a tissue.

A thin platinum streak developed from Brenna’s forehead and raced to the ends of her once frizzy hair, which had smoothed to loose curls. The bland color turned a richer shadeof brown, not quite dark, but enough so the new highlight complimented the overall look. The freckles on her cheeks faded, leaving a smooth porcelain appearance to her skin.

“Goddess! She’s gorgeous!” Spring eased closer and stared down at the woman on the ground. “How could she transform like that?”

Displeased he may have missed a viper in their midst, Alastair scowled and said, “Perhaps she was glamouring to fool us all.”

“Or perhaps someone else was doing it for her.”

They all turned to stare up at Knox, who’d come up with that insightful nugget.

“Explain, son.”

“Have you ever had that type of thing happen before tonight? Someone able to fool you completely?”

Alastair didn’t need to think back. Other than his cousin, Delphine, who was a master in voodoo and black arts, no one ever had. She’d only fooled him because he trusted her and hadn’t looked deeper. He should’ve done, and he hadn’t made the mistake since. “No one I’d spare a moment’s sleep over should they perish.”

Knox shrugged. “We have to consider whatever that thing was, it was after her. Maybe the glamour was put in place by someone else to hide who and what she is.”

“Odessa?” Rorie suggested.

“She doesn’t seem the type, but we can’t rule her out, that’s for sure.” As Alastair scooped Brenna up and rose to his feet, his security force burst into the room, led by a harried-looking Alfred. His butler was loaded for bear, and the determination on his face told Alastair the man needed a raise for his loyalty.

“A little late to the party, fellas, don’t you think?” Spring said dryly.

Under her direct stare, the unflappable elderly Alfred stumbled. His butler had been smitten with her from the moment they met, as were most men. “I’m sorry, Miss Spring. The men and I were trapped in the armory.”

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