Page 23 of Whiskey & Witches
“Get inside the Black Cat and lock the doors, Bridg,” Carrick ordered. “And get Ruairí to come stay until I return.”
“I’ll not have that dope in my home,” she snapped. “And you shouldn’t even consider giving him the steam off your piss. That fecker.” Giving Aeden’s hand a light tug, she said, “Come, Aeden. We’ll wet the tea and have scones ready for when your mam gets back.”
She muttered all the way back to the door, calling back with a few choice words about Carrick’s judgment and sanity and how his mind must be away with the fairies. If he hadn’t been half out of his head with worry for Roisin, he’d have laughed at his sister’s misplaced indignation. Ruairí O’Connor was a decent sort. Likely the only one from that line.
With a shake of his head, he made one more quick search of the house and grounds, then jumped in his car to race for the cottage.
* * *
Roisin woketo the sounds of Seamus McLeary arguing with a woman, her head practically throbbing from the pain. She remembered his voice well enough from Lucky O’Malley’s Pub when she’d picked up the extra shifts to help Bridget since the man never stopped jabbering on.
“You couldn’t just kill her and be done with it, you fool? You had to bring her back here?” the woman yelled.
“Shhh, or you’ll wake Ronan with your screeching, ya banshee! It’s enough to make me ears bleed.” Seamus growled. “Besides, we don’t know that she’s ‘the One’, now do we?”
The female snorted. “You abduct Carrick’s woman—one you failed to kill in that bleeding accident like you should’ve—and bring her back here toRonan’shome? You’re missing brain cells, is what you are. Not a lick of sense in your potato head. He’ll not let you hurt her once he discovers she’s here.” The sound of hands slapping on the table echoed in the space around them. “Yeah, that’s just fecking grand.”
Roisin recognized the voice, but from where, she failed to recall.
She couldn’t seem to open her eyes, and a tight, cloth gag across her mouth prevented speech. Try as she might, she couldn’t move, and a clawing panic snaked its way through her. Putting herself in Seamus’s path to gain information hadn’t been the wisest course of action. Yes, she finally learned who had been targeting her, but she had a too-stupid-to-live moment when she failed to hatch an escape plan. She also hadn’t counted on him knocking her out when he snatched her, the scaldy bastard. But he’d pay for that along with all the other trespasses against her family soon enough.
Think, Roisin!she ordered herself.Forget what you’ve heard and think, woman!
Inhaling a deep breath through her nose, she exhaled the same way in an attempt to clear her mind and calm her nerves, but also listen to see what these impulsive fools were about. Later, when she was out of this mess, she’d give more thought to what they’d revealed, but now wasn’t the time.
This was her first abduction, and yeah, she was in a sticky predicament. She needed to take stock of her surroundings, then get the hell out. Keeping one ear trained on their argument, she went inside herself and reached for the magic to return home. Her cells warmed, but her teleport was aborted before it had begun, telling her she wasn’t at full capacity quite yet. The failed effort on her part proved they’d not thought to render her magic useless, just that there was a ward against leaving this particular location. She could work with that.
The coarse material used for the gag was scratchy against Roisin’s tender scars, and her first order of business was to loosen the knot locking her jaw in place. She did the same with her blindfold and the ropes around her hands and feet. It required more than a little magic to hold the illusion her bindings were still secure, although she’d hastily disposed of them, and she feared she might not have enough when she needed it later. She prayed to the deity that she could keep it up for a short while until she had the chance to escape.
“What the feck is going on here?” asked a deeper, more commanding voice than the others.
A shiver of recognition ran through Roisin’s body as an imposing figure of a man stepped into view. His coloring was the opposite of Carrick’s, and yet, the two resembled one another. Perhaps it was the alert expression in his all-seeing eyes or the impression of sharp intelligence he gave off, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. She was almost positive they’d met before.
The man was a virtual giant and looked to be about six-and-a-half feet tall. His sheer size gave Roisin pause.
“Our fool cousin thought it would be a brilliant idea to steal away Carrick O’Malley’s wife,” the woman said with obvious glee in her shrill voice.
In an instant, Roisin recognized Moira. Cian’s previous lover. The skank had faked her death and, in the process, had torn his poor heart out. Having met the woman a time or two, Roisin couldn’t understand Cian’s obsession. Thank Anu, he met Piper and woke up to what real love should be.
All expression dropped from the blond newcomer’s face as he slowly turned toward Roisin. “Christ O’Mighty!Tell me you weren’t so fucking stupid, Seamus.”
Roisin couldn’t look away from the man’s mesmerizing silver stare to see if Seamus felt remorse for his impulsive act.
“Wait!Wife?” The stranger spun back around to pin Moira with a glare. “Carrick O’Malley’s wife died in that accident you and Seamus engineered,” he stated with a silky softness.
“It appears we were all mistaken.” Moira shrugged uncaringly and sauntered over to a sideboard and poured herself a glass of wine. “Seamus killed the wrong woman.”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Seamus denied hotly. Color crept up his neck, and Roisin could practically feel his embarrassment and smell his unease from where she’d been deposited by the hearth.
When the conversation overrode her fear and fully sank into her brain, it registered that she was staring at the people responsible for her sister’s death and Aeden’s trauma. Fury gave her the strength to sit up and shrug off the illusion of her bonds. Uncaring if she gave herself away, she was intent on hurting them all as they’d hurt her.
With carefully channeled power, she struck out. The gold band of light knocked the wineglass from Moira’s hand on its way to wrap around Seamus’s thick neck. The sound of the shattering glass was ignored in favor of the gurgling noises he made as he clawed at his throat.
Using the rough stone of the hearth to brace her back, Roisin slowly rose and stalked toward him, throwing one hand up to halt the other woman with an invisible wall should she attempt to save Seamus. A quick glance showed the newcomer wasn’t inclined to step in. She met his steady stare, and when he gave a subtle shake of his head, she had a moment’s pause. Clearly, he was trying to communicate a message to her, but she’d be buggered if she knew what.
A quick look at Seamus showed bulging eyes and blue-tinged lips. If she didn’t release him, he’d strangle to death. The revenge-seeking part of her held no concern, but her conscience was another matter. Could she take a life, regardless of what he’d done?
“Release him, Roisin,” the tall, blond man ordered softly. “He’s not worth it.”
