Pints and potions, p.12
Pints & Potions, page 12
“I think I do,” Piper confessed. “But I’m barking up the wrong tree, as you’d say. He doesn’t want a relationship, Dad.”
“The man I saw downstairs cares, Pip. He may not love you this soon, but he’s on his way. Perhaps if you give him time to come to terms with hanging up his roaming ways, he might come around.”
“I don’t think he will.” She looked uncertain, as if she had the urge to say more, but she remained silent.
“Might as well spit out what you’re chewing on, girl. I can see it’s something right important.”
Piper scrunched up her face, then spoke in one rushed breath. “I thought about asking him to father my baby, the Goddess willing.”
Because he’d sort of expected she’d say something along those lines, Hoyt didn’t react as an outraged father might. “Couldn’t hurt to ask, I suppose, but don’t be disappointed if he says no. For all his so-called roguish ways, Cian strikes me as an old-fashioned guy. You’ve only to remove the rose-colored glasses you view him with to see it, Pip.”
She frowned her question, and Hoyt was exasperated that the younger generations didn’t seem to have the insight into the human mind that his generation did.
“He’s the type of man who, once he told you he’d protect you with his last breath, would do just that. Only took me less than a New York minute to sum up that boy. He’s all about his family and doing what’s right.” It pained Hoyt to admit it, but he said, “Cian’s one of the good ones, Pip.”
“I think my heart already knows that, Dad. It’s like the clouds parted and a beam of sunshine lit him up the second I met him.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly how it was the moment I was introduced to your mother. Prettiest gal I ever did see. Still is, and you look just like her.” Leaning down, he kissed Piper’s forehead. Although he knew some men’s hearts remained frozen against love and Hoyt hated to give her hope where it shouldn’t exist, he couldn’t resist saying, “Give your young man time, okay? He may surprise you.”
18
Piper woke refreshed and as if she’d shaken the last of their mysterious attacker’s spell. Perhaps she had, on some unconscious level. Magic worked wonders during a heavy sleep. Or it could be the wards and her father’s continued presence were the real deterrents. Or maybe the guy got tired and moved on. Whatever the case, she was ready to face the remainder of the day.
She sat up and grinned when she noticed the book Hoyt was reading. “Planning to farm in Ireland, Dad?”
Without glancing up, he flipped the page and shrugged. “If you choose to live here, which I highly suspect will be the case moving forward, it would benefit me to learn what crops grow best. Your ma won’t want to be too far from you.”
“It’s only a teleport away. And you have a lot of faith in my ability to change Cian’s mind about love.”
He peered over the edge of his book. “He’d be a gol-dern fool not to, Pip.”
A more supportive father didn’t exist. Tears burned the back of her lids. “I want what you and Mom have. Maybe that’s why I’ve been such a failure in the romance department and so desperate to find that perfect person.”
“The relationship between your mother and me isn’t perfect. Far from it, in fact. But we made a promise to always try to see the other’s perspective. We promised to calmly work through any issues as they pop up and never let the sun set on an argument.”
“I know unconditional love is reserved for children, Dad. I get couples fight, but you’re definitely a role model.”
He gave a firm nod. “Just so you know. Life ain’t going to be easy, Pip. We’ve all survived our share of troubles. The witches’ wars taught us that. Danger is always lurking right around the corner for us Thornes, and you’d best stay on alert when you’re here.”
“I thought the wards were strengthened earlier today?”
“They were, and Spring sat with you as Knox and I tested them, but that don’t mean you can let your guard down, you hear?”
“I understand.”
“And if it takes using your abilities to kick some butt, then you do it, girl. You don’t rely on physical strength and learned skills alone.”
She couldn’t stop her grin. This was her dad. The man whose stern looks and warnings were legendary in their family. The man who everyone believed was a mean old grizzly, when in fact, he was a teddy bear. All his life lessons and caution were from the root of a love so great, family was never in any doubt they were cared for.
“Promise,” she said as she placed a hand over her heart.
“Good.” He climbed to his feet and snapped his fingers. The book vanished into thin air and a mug of coffee replaced it. “I’m heading downstairs to see if that pretty boy of Spring’s found anything worthwhile about the attack in the woods. You drink this coffee and come down when you’re ready.”
He left her with a quick kiss on the forehead and her favorite flavored latte. As she sat back against the headboard and sipped her drink, she savored the feeling of being well cared for.
Twenty minutes later, she headed downstairs and encountered Cian on the landing. He looked rested and alert. And good enough to eat.
“I see we both had the same idea to nap,” she said with a grin.
“Yeah, and you’re a sight for these sore eyes. It’s happy I am to see you’ve recovered.” He ran a hand through his damp hair. “I confess, you took years off my life, love.”
“It may’ve taken years off my own, and my dad’s to boot,” she quipped. She touched his arm. “Thank you, Cian.”
He appeared befuddled. “For what? I almost got you killed.”
“You didn’t. And I’ve no doubt you’d have found a way to rescue me from the cavern had Knox not come along.”
“You give me too much credit, darlin’. I’d have tried, but I was near to losing my mind when you decided to take a nap back there.”
The colorful way he painted her encounter with death caused a bubble of laughter. Leaning close she lowered her voice. “I’ll tell you a secret; we Thornes, for all our enemies, are a lucky lot. Maybe it neutralizes your bad luck.”
“Your mouth to the gods’ ears.” His gaze dropped to her mouth and grew heated. “Speaking of mouths…”
She met him halfway and opened to him. The kiss was delicious. A lazy exploration of a potential lover—her favorite kind. His body pressed hers against the wall, and Piper would’ve stayed where she was to make out with him all afternoon if the sound of a man clearing his throat hadn’t penetrated her pleasurable haze.
With a girly sigh, she pushed Cian away much to both of their disappointment if his groan was a good indicator.
“I thought I’d have to throw a bucket of cold water on the two of you,” GiGi said from her place beside Ryker. Using her hand, she fanned herself. “Or perhaps take a cold shower myself.”
Piper laughed and moved to pass Cian, but he held her back to let Ryker and GiGi go by.
“We’ll catch up,” he said.
Ryker’s lips twitched, but he didn’t comment.
Once the others were gone, Cian tilted Piper’s chin up and kissed her again. The degree of heat wasn’t the inferno of the last one, but it was enough to warm her blood to boiling.
“I can put a meal together and we can head to the park behind the house, if you’ve a mind,” he said huskily.
“Is it wise with the threat?”
“It’s my family’s land, and we’d be within sight of the house.”
“Okay. But let’s see what, if anything, Dad discovered first.” She couldn’t resist running a hand over the hard plane of his chest. “Then I’d be happy to share your meal, Cian O’Malley. You’d better make it good, though, because I’m starving.”
“And isn’t the question what are you starvin’ for?”
She couldn’t prevent her sultry smile, and she tweaked his nipple through his shirt. “Brownies make me happy.”
He grunted and tucked her arm through his. “Sure, and I was hoping you’d have other appetites for me to satisfy.”
As they entered the sitting room, all heads turned their way. Cian wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable under all the curious stares, but he didn’t exactly enjoy it either. After escorting Piper to a seat, he left to pour her a glass of wine and himself a four-fingered shot of whiskey.
Once he’d handed off her drink, he perched on the arm of her chair. “Please tell me you’ve uncovered our threat.”
Their faces ranged from frustrated to angry and told Cian they hadn’t discovered shite.
“Grand,” he muttered and chugged his whiskey. “What’s our next move?”
“Don’t know,” Ryker said. “But we can’t have whoever this is going around creating earthquakes and making attempts on your life at every opportunity. Others are going to get caught in the crossfire.”
“We still aren’t positive of the target here,” Cian reminded him.
Piper placed a hand on his thigh to gain his attention. “What if it’s directed at both of us? Had anything strange happened before I arrived?”
“Other than our standard bad luck? Nah.” He smiled down at her. “But to be sure, good fortune blessed me the day you walked into our pub, Piper me love.”
She rolled her eyes and jabbed him in the side. “You’re laying it on thick again, Cian me love. Your put-on accent gives you away every time.”
He chuckled at being called out and didn’t challenge her comment. “What has you questioning the time before your arrival? Do you think you were followed to Ireland?”
“Maybe.” Her expression turned thoughtful, and she rose to her feet. “Be right back.”
“Anyone else have a clue what she’s talking about?” Ryker asked with a frown.
“I might, but I want to see how this plays out,” GiGi replied with a mysterious smile. Her full-fledged grin was smug when Piper returned with the O’Malley grimoire.
The soft glow emanating from the cover increased in strength with each step she took in Cian’s direction, and by the time she reached him, it was brighter than the noon-day sun. Squinting against the glare, he accepted it when she passed it off to him. In his hands, the grimoire resembled a dusty old tome, no light to be seen.
“I don’t understand,” he confessed, fighting discomfiture at his lack of magical knowledge. “How are you able to turn this on?”
Ryker snorted behind him, then grunted.
Cian could only assume the man’s mind took a side trip to naughty-ville and his wife gave him the express train ticket back to reality with an elbow to his ribs.
“Give it to GiGi, please,” Piper instructed without acknowledging his question.
He complied and noted that although a slight shimmering appeared in the etchings, GiGi’s touch didn’t cause the same effect as Piper’s.
“Pass the book around to all of you with magic,” he urged, growing more curious about how the grimoire would respond to the others. “It’s like it’s alive,” he murmured.
With the exception of Knox, whose god-like powers caused the design to flare bright for an instant then die out, the others only sparked the same response as GiGi.
“It’s never woken up that I recall.” Cian traced the pattern of the tree’s roots on the cover after it was returned to Piper, watching as the heatless fire flared up from the engraved leather. “What is it about you?”
“Us, Cian. I believe it’s responding to us. The first time I traced the pattern, like you’re doing now, the response was similar to when I first entered with it. Of course, it lit, but not to this degree. It never flared as brightly, and it becomes more active the closer I am to you.” She stared down at the illuminated cover, her expression thoughtful and a little awed.
“If this is like our family’s grimoire, you should be able to ask and have it respond,” Hoyt informed them.
Spring’s head came up and her astonished expression morphed into delight. “Of course! I’d forgotten about that neat little feature.” Bubbling over with excitement, she stood, crossed to Piper, and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Ask it what you want to know. Ask it why it responds to you.”
With a deep inhale, Piper met Cian’s eyes. “Do you want to do the honors?”
Did he? His heart rate increased with each second he delayed answering. What would he do if the bloody thing portended some cataclysmic event because Piper had arrived and disrupted his world? Knowing he was being ridiculous, yet unable to help himself, he withdrew his hand. “No.”
The grimoire went dark.
They all stared in bemusement.
“Think it ran out of battery juice?” GiGi asked dryly.
“I think Cian ran out of hope,” Ryker replied in a soft, serious tone.
Cian lifted his head and glared. “Hope for what?”
“The second you shut down, so did the book.”
He’d barely heard Ryker for the blood rushing to his head and the pulse pounding in his ears, but he managed.
“Tell me I’m wrong, man. Tell me you didn’t back off from fear,” Ryker demanded.
Cian’s frantic gaze darted between Ryker, Piper, and the grimoire. “I can’t.”
“It’s okay, Cian,” Piper said. “We can try another time.”
Her gentle understanding shamed him. This wasn’t her problem. She could walk away and leave him to whatever enemy decided to darken his door. But there she stood—brave and beautiful—prepared to uncover whatever mischief might be written on the pages, and also ready to yield to his wishes on the matter should they not align with hers.
“This type of magic is new to you, son,” Hoyt said, not unkindly. “No one can blame you for being skittish.”
Cian wanted to rail at the man for suggesting he might be ‘skittish’ but couldn’t, because Hoyt had spoken true.
With a muttered curse, Cian reached for the heavy tome and Piper’s hand. “I’m certain we’ll live to regret this, darlin’, but if you’re willin’ so am I.” The grimoire seemed happy with his decision and the illumination was more intense this time around. “At least this fecking thing is thrilled.”
She laughed. “Do you think you can tone it down a bit before you sear our retinas?”
“I’m not—”
“I wasn’t speaking to you.”
The glow faded to a mere flicker, but an impatient one at that. If Cian didn’t know better, he’d suspect the flashing was the grimoire’s way of tapping its fingers.
With a deep breath and a silent prayer to the Goddess Anu, he asked, “What is it you wish to show us?”
The thick, ancient binding whipped back and the pages fluttered at a blinding pace, finally settling on a passage around the center of the book.
“I can’t read it.” Disappointment was heavy in her voice.
“It’s Gaelic,” he replied.
“What does it say?” Spring asked eagerly.
“It’s the riddle.” In the face of all the blank stares, he said, “It has to do with a family prophecy. I’d forgotten about it, because it never mattered to me.”
“A riddle.” GiGi looked intrigued as she settled into her husband’s embrace. “Do tell. Let’s see if we can solve it.”
Cian silently read the passage three times. With each reading, he grew uneasy until his nerves were a proper mess.
“Cian?” Piper’s soft voice held a question, and he knew he needed to answer, but he didn’t know how to respond other than to speak the rhyme aloud.
“When the mighty Thorne pricks the heart of the Frozen, the end shall start in motion,” he croaked out.
There was a collective gasp.
“The question is which mighty Thorne,” Hoyt eventually said. “There’s a whole heap of us.”
“Right, but in dealing with the matters of the heart, I’m going to say the mighty Thorne in question is present and accounted for,” Knox said with a short laugh and a pointed look at Piper.
Cian stared at her and she stared right back. Neither could break the pull of the other, and the sickening realization they were the ones referred to in the first line of the prophecy smacked them both at the same time.
“You’re the Frozen, aren’t you?” she said achingly, no real question in her tone. Tears shimmered in her horrified eyes. “Am I supposed to stab you?”
Ringing started in his ears and it felt as if darkness was clouding his vision.
Jaysus! What if she were?
What if his death was needed to kick-start his family’s magic? Was he willing to be a sacrifice for a power they’d all lived without until now?
Hoyt changed positions with Spring and hugged Piper’s shoulders. “I think you’re taking this too literally, Pip.” He lightly rubbed a hand up and down her arm, as if to warm her. “You might touch Cian’s heart in another fundamental way.”
Her terrified expression dissipated but she didn’t appear any less thrilled as she nodded. “Good point, Dad.”
“Is that the only line of the riddle?” Spring peered over the edge of the grimoire. “It looks like there’s more.”
Cian swallowed in an attempt to moisten his desert-dry throat. “There’s more.”
“Don’t keep us waiting. There could be a clue to the first line,” GiGi said with her standard impatience.
But Cian knew there wasn’t. He dutifully read on. “When the golden Son sacrifices for the One, only then can the curse be undone.”
“I wonder who the golden Son is?” Spring murmured and gave him a curious glance. “I suspect you know, don’t you?”
He did, or rather he suspected he did.
Aeden.
He was the only blond babe born to their family in the last two centuries. “I believe I do, but I’ve no idea who the One is.”
“Another of your siblings?” Piper had lost her look of abject horror and seemed to be warming to the mystery of it all.
“Perhaps.” Cian was aware he sounded cagey, but he suddenly felt his family should be present for this discussion. Talking to virtual strangers about an O’Malley prophecy was wrong.
Perceptive as ever, Piper lowered her voice to ask, “Do you want to stop until you’ve consulted with Bridget?”
