Page 22 of Charmed

Fiona knew her aunt was right, but the assurance did nil to calm her fears. Without her gifts, she was nothing. Defenseless.

The others took their seats between the chairs and couches, watching her like she might crack any second. Goddess, that was almost worse than not having her abilities.

Kaida rubbed her forehead. "How did he get a potion in the first place? The Meaths don't have magick in their blood."

"He must have sources." Brady took her hand, lacing their fingers. "Between the glamour spells and witching blade, someone's been helping him."

More knee bouncing from Riley. He was unusually quiet, too.

"It was black magick. Old, as well." Fiona rolled her head to stretch her stiff neck. "I don't know how or what, but I sensed darkness immediately when he showed us the vial." She closed her eyes and struggled to bring sensory to the surface. "I smelled mustard seed and white rose."

Ceara frowned. "I'm not as good at potions as you. What are those used for?"

"A lot of things. Protection, love, and purity mostly." Trepidation slithered up Fiona's spine while oh-crap rammed her skull. "Together, their primary purpose might be a binding spell."

Riley's knee bounced faster.

"Can you undo whatever it was?" Brady asked.

"Maybe. If I knew precisely what it was or the intent."

Tristan leaned forward, elbows on his thighs. "Would you like me to go into the clearing? I could collect the vial shards. Perhaps there's something left for you to analyze."

"No, that's okay." Tomorrow, if she still felt weird, she'd go check it out. With potions like the one used on her, they vaporized upon release, so she doubted there would be anything there. Aunt Mara was correct in saying the spell would wear off. "Thanks, though."

He nodded. "Are you up to telling us what happened?"

She chewed her lip in thought and glanced at Riley. His account would be more accurate.

His anxious gaze locked onto hers, edges of frayed unease in their depths. More bounce, bounce, bouncing of his knee. Finally, he closed his eyes and sighed.

As he recanted the events, they came back to her in blips and spurts. By the time he was finished, she had the crazy urge to crawl in his lap until both of them settled down. Cling to him and the sudden sense of safety he was beginning to invoke.

Which was absurd. She was fine. He was fine. Flirting and banter were one thing, crossing the line was another. She'd been on her own this long. She certainly didn't need a man to keep her safe or to provide comfort. Least of all Riley.

"So he does want us to finish the tasks." Brady shook his head. "Why try to kill Kaida then? Or knock you out?"

Fiona shrugged. "I can only assume he doesn't know we have to recite the spell together once we have all three parts. Could be he's playing us. My impression was he didn't care if he lived forever or not. His goal has always been to stop our bloodline. I think he's growing weary of immortality, though."

"Aye, I can relate." Aunt Mara offered a weak smile.

"All right," Tristan said and stood. "Let's call it a night and talk tomorrow. You need some rest."

Aunt Mara and Ceara hugged Kaida goodbye, then retreated upstairs with assurances they were close if Fiona needed them. Tristan and Brady stepped onto the porch, Kaida in tow, and Fiona turned after noticing Riley wasn't with them.

He paced in front of the fireplace, hands deep in his hair and fingers clenching the strands. Gone was the jovial guy who always had a quip on the tip of his tongue. He'd been replaced by an edgy, rigid version of his former self who was all but crawling out of his skin.

Jeez, he'd saved her life tonight. Had taken care of her when she hadn't been capable. She owed him more than offering peace of mind, and her heart squeezed at his avid torment.

"Go ahead and take off. I got him."

Tristan didn't seem positive. "Are you sure? I can pour a bottle of Jameson down his throat and call it a success."

She laughed. "I'm good. Go on."

Closing the door, she faced Riley. He'd stopped pacing and was staring at her like he was point five seconds from flying over the cuckoo's nest. Her chest pinched in sympathy. "Follow me into the kitchen."

As if just what he'd been seeking was for her to take control, his shoulders slumped in relief. "I won't stay long." He scrubbed his hands over his face. "I couldn't leave you here. I just..."

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