Blood Magick (The Cousins O'Dwyer Trilogy #3)(39)

“It’s stunning. It’s old and stunning and still hums with power.”

“I found it in a fussy antiques shop in New Orleans, though it didn’t come from there. It had passed from hand to hand long before it came to that fussy shop where they had no idea what it was. I knew it for yours as soon as I picked it up. I’ve had it a few years now as I wasn’t sure how to give it so you’d accept it.”

She stared down at the bottle. “You think I’m hard.”

“I think nothing of the sort. I think you’re strong, and that makes it hard for both of us. Still, I couldn’t leave it in that shop where they didn’t know what they had, and not when I knew it for yours.”

“And you know when I look at it, I’ll think of you.”

“Well, there is that advantage to it. All the same, it’s for you.”

“I’ll keep it in my room, and despite my better sense I’ll think of you when I look at it.” She couldn’t risk her lips on his, but brushed hers to his cheek, and for a moment rested her cheek to his as she’d once done so often, so easily. “Thank you. I— Oh, she had it made very particularly. I have a glimmer here,” she murmured, staring at the bottle. “The dragon was hers, I think. And she had this made, just so, to hold . . . to hold tears. A witch’s tears—so precious and powerful when shed for joy, when shed in sorrow.”

“Which did this hold?”

“I can’t see it, but I’ll think joy, as it’s Christmas, and a beautiful gift. It should hold joy.” She set it carefully on the counter. “We should have champagne, and we should have music. And I won’t check the windows any more tonight.”

? ? ?

THAT NIGHT, LATE, SHE PUT THE BOTTLE ON HER DRESSER, and, sliding into bed, watched it catch all the golds of the fire.

And thought of him. And thinking of him, laid a charm under her pillow to block dreams. Her heart was too full to risk dreams.

? ? ?

THINGS NEEDED DOING, BRANNA THOUGHT AS SHE SPENT the day—happily alone—in her workshop. She’d enjoyed every minute of Yule, of Christmas. Gathering with her circle, preparing the food, making music together. She’d loved the trip to Kerry on Christmas Day, didn’t feel the least guilty she’d magickly flown to see her parents, to spend time with them and other family. And had felt warmer yet, as Connor did the same, with Meara.

It had done her spirit good to see her parents so happy with this new phase of their lives. Boosted her confidence to recognize their complete faith in her, in Connor.

But now it was back to practical matters again. To the work that earned her living. To the work that was her destiny, that was life or death.

She replenished some of her most popular lotions and creams, worked on the pretty travel candles that all but flew off her shop’s shelves.

Then she gave herself the pleasure of experimenting with new scents, new colors, new textures. She could focus her mind on her senses, how did this look, what mood did this scent evoke, how did this feel on the skin?

She glanced up when the door opened, found herself happy to see Meara come in.

“Well now, this is perfectly timed. Take off your gloves, would you, and try this new cream.”

“It’s an ugly day out there, all cold, blowing rain.” She pulled off her cap, unwound her scarf—tossed her thick brown braid behind her back. “And in here it’s warm and smells like heaven. A fine change from the damp and the horse shite.”

She hung up her coat, walked over to Branna, held out bare hands. “Oh, that’s lovely.” She rubbed in the cream, sniffed at her hands. “Just lovely and cool, and it smells like . . . air. Just fresh air, like you’d find on the top of a mountain. I like the color of it in the bowl, too. Pale, pale blue. Like blue ice.”

“A perfect name for it. Blue Ice, it is. It’s made for working hands and feet. I thought to do it in a sturdy sort of jar. The sort men wouldn’t fuss about having for themselves. I’m thinking of doing a line of it. A scrub as well, a gel for the shower, cake and liquid soap. Again with packaging women will like, but men won’t feel insults their testicles.”

“I don’t know how you think of all of it.”

“If I didn’t, I might have spent the day in the cold rain and horse shite with you.” She walked over to put on the kettle. “And I feel as we come to the end of the year, it’s time to think of new. Just yesterday my mother asked if I couldn’t create some products exclusive for their little B and B. Some they could use as amenities for the guests—then sell in full size. And after year’s end, I’m going to see what I can do about that.”

“It was lovely seeing your mother yesterday, and your father as well, and the rest. Connor sprang it on me all at once. Why don’t we fly down and see my ma and da for a bit before we’re off to Galway? I’m saying how I’d love to see them, and shouldn’t we ring them up first, but he just takes my hand, and pop we’re there.” She laid a hand on her belly. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that mode of traveling.”

“It meant a lot to them, and to me, to have you both there for a few hours.”

“Christmas means family, and if we’re lucky, friends as well.”

“And yours? Your family?”