will be down my throat and up my arse at the same time. Branna, you’ll let us know if you need any help.”
“Be sure I will.”
Connor strode over, gave Branna a quick, hard kiss. “Don’t poison yourself.”
“I thought I would just for the experience, but since you ask so nicely . . .”
She breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind them, then found Kathel sitting, staring at her.
“Not you as well? When did I all at once become an idjit? If you want to help, go round on patrol.” She marched to the door, opened it. “I’m after cloaking the workshop and locking up besides. It wouldn’t do to have someone wander in for hand balm while I’m doing this work. Be helpful, Kathel,” she said in a more cajoling tone, “and you’ll tell me if you find Cabhan’s anywhere near.”
Another sigh of relief when she’d shut the door behind him.
She cloaked the glass so none but who she chose could see inside. She charmed the doors so none but who she chose could enter.
And turning back to the counter, began—carefully—with wolfsbane.
It was painstaking work, as one of the precautions involved psychically cleansing each ingredient.
Some said those who practiced the dark arts sometimes imbued poisonous plants with the power to infect strange illnesses by only a touch or an inhale of scent.
She didn’t have the time or inclination to fall ill.
After cleansing, she rejarred the entire plant, or crushed petals or berries, or distilled.
From outside, Fin watched her as if through a thin layer of gauze. She’d been wise to cloak her workplace, he thought, as even from here he recognized belladonna, and angel’s trumpet—though he could only assume the latter was Amazonian.
She worked with mortar and pestle because the effort and the stone added to the power. Every now and then he caught a quick glimmer of light or a thin rise of dark from the bowl or from a jar.
Both dogs flanked him. He wasn’t certain if Bugs had come along for himself or for Kathel, but the little stable mutt sat and waited as patiently as Branna’s big hound.
Fin wondered if he’d ever watch Branna through the glass without worry. If that day ever came, it wouldn’t be today.
He moved to the door, opened it.
She’d put on music, which surprised him as she most often worked in silence, but now she worked to weeping violins.
Whatever she told the dogs stopped their forward motion toward her so they sat again, waited again. Taking off his coat, so did he.
Then she poured the powder she made through a funnel and into a jar, sealed it.
“I wanted to get that closed up before the dogs began milling around, wagging tails. I wouldn’t want a speck of dust or a stray hair finding its way into the jars.”
“I thought you’d have banished any speck of dust long before this.”
She carried the funnel, mortar, pestle to a pot on the stove, carefully set them inside the water steadily boiling inside.
“I tend to chase them away with rag or broom as it’s more satisfying. Is it midday?”
“Nearly one in the afternoon. I was delayed. Have you worked straight through since Connor and Meara left this morning?”
“And with considerable to show for it. No, don’t touch me yet.” She stepped to her little sink, scrubbed her hands, then coated them with lotion.
“I’m keeping my word,” she told him, “and being overly cautious.”
“There’s no overly with this. And now you’ll have a break from it, some food and some tea.”
Before she could protest, he took her arm to steer her out and into her own kitchen.
“If you’re hungry, you might have picked up some take-away while you were out. Here, you’ll have a sandwich and be thankful for it.”
He only pulled out a chair, pointed. “Sit,” he said, and put the kettle on.
“I thought you wanted food.”
“I said you’d have food, and I wouldn’t mind some myself. I can make a bloody sandwich. I make a superior sandwich come to that, as it’s what I make most.”
“You’re a man of some means,” she pointed out. “You might hire a cook.”
“Why would I do that when I can get a meal here more than half the time?”
When he opened the refrigerator, she started to tell him where he might find the various makings, then just sat back, decided to let him fend for himself.
“Did Connor put a bug in your ear?”
“He didn’t have to. It would be better if you worked with someone