Page 76 of Beer & Broomsticks

She gave him a concerned look as he passed her, but he kept going until he was breathing fresh air again. When had his family become embroiled in murderous games? Had he been so oblivious to the goings-on of his siblings, so willfully ignorant of the dangers?

He ran a hand across his buzzed hair and winced in pain. The beating he’d taken at the hands of Shane’s hired mercenary came back to haunt him in the form of his bruised scalp and broken finger. His ribs didn’t feel all that grand either, now that he was moving around.

“Eoin?”

Alastair Thorne turned the corner, and Eoin had a moment of panic. Was this a ploy, then? Were all the O’Conner family members going to show up as Alastair and try to hurt his family in sneak attacks?

“Calm down, son. Your emotions are all over the place, and you’re making it hard to concentrate.”

One look into Alastair’s concerned sapphire eyes, and Eoin breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry, sir. There was another—” he pointed toward his home “—another you that wasn’t you. I’m a little on edge, to be sure.”

“Another me?” Alastair’s dark-blond brows snapped together, and the air around them grew overcast and dark as he tugged first one cuff, then the other.

The changing weather and approaching storm clouds told Eoin all he needed to know. This was, indeed, Alastair Thorne, one of the most powerful warlocks to ever walk the earth, and the type who didn’t suffer fools lightly.

“You can remain calm. A hair model named Knox took care of him for you, he did.”

As quickly as Alastair’s temper flared to life, it disappeared in the face of Eoin’s comment. “Hair model?” he choked out on a laugh.

“It’s all those flowing Loreal-blond locks of his. I’m sure I saw that exact shade on a shelf in the supermarket.”

Alastair nearly bent double laughing, and Eoin joined him. Maybe it was the relief of knowing his family was unhurt, or perhaps the punch to the head had sent him over the edge, but suddenly, the entire situation seemed hilarious.

After they both sobered, Alastair’s gaze swept him from head to toe. “Do you need a healer, son?”

“For my broken hand, yeah. This hard head of mine likely wasn’t damaged.”

Lips twitching in an effort to suppress his grin, Alastair held out his hand. “Then let’s get those broken bones repaired.”

* * *

After leavingwork with all her belongings in a box, Dubheasa climbed in the back of a cab and texted Eoin she was going away for a long weekend. With a sigh, she shut off her phone and tossed it into her Coach shoulder bag. Lost in thought, it didn’t register right away that her cabbie had made a wrong turn.

“Hey!” She leaned forward, prepared to give him a tongue lashing, when she caught sight of the man driving.“You!”

“Dovie, I need you to hear me out.”

“Stop the fucking car.”

She tried the handle, uncaring that she was in the middle of rush-hour traffic or that she’d need to leave her box of personal items behind, prepared to jump if she had to.

“Listen, love, I’m not going to hurt ya. We just need to talk.”

“I said,Stop. The. Fucking. Car!”

“No.” He winced when she screeched. “Jaysus, woman! You like to deafen me!”

“I’d like to cut off your bollocks and shove them—”

He turned up the radio to drown her out.

“I swear by all that is holy, I will gut you!”

When he began whistling as if he didn’t have a care in the world, she lost her temper completely and banged on the glass partition. “This is kidnapping, and a punishable offense here in the States, you tool. I’ll see you locked away for life, I will.”

With raised brows, he turned down the music. “Did ya say somethin’, love?”

Slipping a hand inside her purse, she felt around and withdrew pepper spray, surreptitiously setting it in her lap, then reached inside for her phone.

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