Page 50 of Highballs & Hexes

“I know what he did. He fabricated an entire compound and lied to everyone, me included. And sure, it’ll take time to trust him again, but I don’t think he’s evil. I don’t believe he hurt anyone intentionally, Noah. He was mixed up in his mind and seeking the familiar in a cold, hard world.”

With a sad sigh, he patted his thigh. “Take a nap, Fi. It’ll be sorted soon enough.”

As Noah strokedFi’s wavy strawberry-blonde hair and tucked it behind her ear, he listened for her altered breathing to indicate she was finally asleep. He’d failed to inform her Patrick O’Malley would face the Witches’ Council for his actions, preferring not to destroy her heart completely. The sentence would be death should Patrick fail to make his case.

The man had asked Noah to see her home, stating she’d need him more than ever. But as he sat here with the woman he loved to distraction, he knew he wasn’t who she wanted. It mattered not that his body craved hers and his heart refused to consider another. His time with Fionola was at an end, and he’d lost his chance at a happily ever after. No matter what happened with Patrick, Fi wouldn’t come home to him. She’d never be his completely. And Goddess forbid the man was put to death, because she’d be inconsolable.

Footsteps on the pebbled path caught his attention, and based on the quixotic emotions of the newcomer, it was no surprise when Patrick turned the corner. He came to a stop a foot away, and his hungry gaze swept Fi’s form before settling on her relaxed visage.

The man’s longing was the worst. Noah could feel it like a living thing, tingling beneath his skin and causing the hairs tostand on end. The want wasn’t sexual in nature, and his desire was pure, raw yearning. Patrick O’Malley hungered for Fionola Bohannon to love him as much as he loved her. The fierce ache was heavy and constant, much like a never-ending heart attack, causing pressure in the man’s chest.

Noah understood the emotion for what it was. He felt close to the same for Fi, himself.

“She won’t go,” he said in a low voice.

“Aye. She’s a stubborn one.” Patrick’s voice was equally low, but his possessed a raspy quality, as if, maybe like Fi, he’d been sobbing, too.

“You’ve gotten to know her well, then?”

Murky green eyes met his. The color told the tale of a miserable man, but Patrick skillfully hid his emotions behind a blank mask. Only when he looked at Fionola did his adoration for her show through.

“Well enough,” Patrick said gruffly. “She’s too open and sweet for her own good. You’ll teach her not to be so trusting, yeah?”

“I’ll not be teaching her anything, old man. She’s a grown woman with a mind of her own.”

A half smile tugged the corner of Patrick’s mouth up. “Aye, she is. But like I said before, she’ll need ya, all the same.” His lips firmed into a straight line. “They’ll be after putting me to death tomorrow.”

“I know nothing about Council business, but I’ve heard they’re an ill-humored bunch,” Noah said in agreement. Hadn’t he drawn the same conclusion mere minutes before? “Do you have a representative to defend you?”

“Don’t need one. I’ll welcome any punishment they see fit to hand out.”

“You’re a fool not to fight, O’Malley.” Noah shook his head and dropped his gaze to Fi. “If only so you can return to her.”

“She’ll not have me.”

He snorted and shot an amused look the man’s way. “So, you’re a fool in general, then, aye?” Chuckling at Patrick’s scowl, Noah shook his head. “I’ve been around for a couple of centuries, and as sure as I’m sitting here, wishing things were different and she loved me instead, I can tell you that the woman is mad for you.” He allowed all the sincerity he could muster to hang between them. “Ones like Fionola Bohannon don’t come along every day, man. If your brain has truly knitted back together, then you’ll recognize it and make feckin’ sure to come through the trial alive.”

CHAPTER 22

Patrick let Noah’s words marinate as he pulled up an uncomfortable patch of grass and watched the man continually tuck Fi’s hair behind her ear in long, soothing strokes.

Part of him wanted to break the offending hand, but he no longer had the right to be jealous of their closeness. Perhaps he never did. Like a stalker, he’d watched them from upstairs. After nearly beating the living shite out of the man—much to Patrick’s delight—Fi had allowed Noah to hold her as she sobbed her heart out.

From where he’d stood, Patrick imaginedhewas the root cause of all her problems and heartaches. He hoped like hell his death could give her the peace she deserved.

“She clings to you in her sleep,” he observed, careful to keep his jealousy from his voice. “If you love her, you should let her know.”

“Sure, and I did, but she wants you.”

“And you’ve a mind to let me win?” Patrick’s laugh was genuine, albeit a bit rusty after the last few days.

“Fuck no! But it’s not like I have a choice, do I? She’ll pick who she picks, and I’ll not grovel like a hungry dog.”

“But it’s what we both are, man. Hungry dogs for her affection, aye?” He shouldn’t feel an affinity for his competition, but he did. In the end, though, it was about Fi’s overall happiness.

Fionola’s lids lifted, and she met his gaze. Her expression was void of emotion, like his and Noah’s. It was as if they all feared revealing too much to the other.

“If you want my affection so badly, why is it you told everyone who’d come out here to send me away?” she asked.

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