Shriek: Legend of the Bean Sídhe

by Jennifer M. Barry

  “Who’s this doggo?” Sara stopped and stared, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. Her brow furrowed in concern. “Did you hit him? Are you guys okay?”

  A chuckle slipped past Ridley’s lips in spite of himself. “Yeah. We’re fine. I almost hit him when he ran across the road in front of me. Someone taped his mouth shut and set him loose out here by himself.”

  “Oh, my God!” Sara dropped to her knees without even a wince at the sharp stones and pressed her face against the puppy’s scraggly fur. “You poor baby.”

  “Uh, he might have fleas or something.” Ridley scratched at a spot above his ear at the thought, but Sara just waved him off.

  “He should probably see a vet. Look at the scratches across his nose and on his paws.” She held up a ragged leg and pulled a face at the raw skin visible through the blue-gray.

  Scars new and old told the dog’s sad and violent story. The tape on his muzzle was just the damning evidence of severe abuse. The little pit bull had been used as a bait dog, probably for animals more than twice his size and strength.

  He crouched and placed a hand on the pup’s head. When the dog leaned in, pressing against the warmth and kindness he felt there, a suspicious wetness prickled at Ridley’s eyes. How could this poor thing trust anyone right now?

  Sara clucked her tongue a few times, drawing excited brown eyes in her direction. “We need to get you back to town, little guy. I’ll go see if I have a towel or something to wrap him in.”

  As she stood and loped back to her car, Ridley forced his eyes away from her legs again and back to the dog. Of course, the dog stared after her, too. Ridley couldn’t blame him. Every word he’d said in Burnsville came back and slapped him in the face.

  And Sara, as mortified as she’d looked, set all that aside to help. Because she was a nice person, and probably more mature than any of the girls Ridley might have considered “old enough.” She definitely wasn’t giggling now.

  “This fleece is probably too hot for him, but at least it’s soft.” She held up a striped blanket and waved it like a flag.

  As a drop of sweat trickled down his face, Ridley didn’t envy the dog. June was shaping up to be one of the hottest on record, and July was just around the corner.

  “Let’s get him wrapped up and you guys can be on your way.”

  “I don’t…” Shit. How could he carry an injured dog back to town on his motorcycle?

  Realization dawned on Sara’s face and drew her pretty lips into a bow. “Oh. It’s cool. He can ride with me. Plus, I’ll see if my dad’ll float me a little extra before my next paycheck to cover the cost of the vet.”

  “No way.” He ground the words between clenched teeth. She wasn’t going to pay a dime, and neither was her father. “I don’t need your help. Or your dad’s.”

  Sara’s pretty features, all lit with excitement and friendship, crumpled. She tried to pull her lips up into a smile, but the corners trembled and failed. “Right. Never see me again. Sorry about that.”

  She kneeled and wrapped the blanked around bony shoulders. The dog leaned against her, transferring trust from Ridley to Sara. He tried to shake off the twinge of jealousy. He’d hurt her. Maybe not the way someone had hurt that pup, intentionally and with malice, but she’d still sting for a while. Was that better than the alternative?

  “I’ll just take him right to Doc Gentry and leave him there for you.” She lifted the bundle into her arms and turned toward her car.

  She didn’t look back.

  Sara tried to avoid him; she really did. But Cedar City was a small town. The more she tried to avoid him, the more she saw him. In Kroger, while she tossed bagels into her cart, he’d turned the corner and headed her way with a jug of milk and a pound of ground beef in his basket. She’d screeched the wheels of the cart on tile fleeing the scene.

  When filling her Honda at the gas station, she’d heard the roar of his motorcycle well before she saw him. Her wish that he’d keep driving didn’t come true. She’d stopped the pump at seven dollars and twenty-three cents, flung the passenger door open, and curled up on the floor until he drove away again.

  The one place she couldn’t turn and run from was the diner. When he roared up alone for breakfast just as she was arriving for her morning shift, she thought about running inside and locking the door. But because he was gorgeous and she was stupid, she stood and gawped.

  He fiddled with the strap on his helmet, oblivious to her panicked stare. If he saw her, there would be no stopping the death by mortification, especially since he’d made it clear he never wanted to see her again.

  Still, Sara’s gaze raked his form, shown to exquisite perfection by his battered jeans and snug T-shirt. The helmet covered his face for a moment, but it wouldn’t block the view for long. She hung in there for one glimpse, hoping there would still be time to hide before he saw her.

  She was never that lucky.

  “Damn it, Sara.” Gravel and irritation colored his voice as he stalked across the parking lot. “What are you doing here?”

  Sara presented the diner behind her like some television game show host and tried to smirk. “I…work here.”

  “Right.” Ridley’s shoulders dropped. “Of course you do.”

  “Besides, you’re definitely the one out of place here. You didn’t used to be. We’ve missed you every morning.”

  “Ah, yeah. I’ve been getting a biscuit at McDonald’s.” Shame laced his voice. “You know why, too. Anyone else, Sara, and I’d probably… Well, it doesn’t matter.”

  Anyone else? What did he mean by that? Sara’s heart did a flip in her chest. Did he mean… Could he maybe… Well, it didn’t matter. Whatever reason he chose to ignore her, the important fact was that he did, in fact, choose to eat fast food instead of her dad’s French toast. And for some reason, that was her fault.

  “Look, I’m not trying to stalk you. We just live in a small town. You can come into the diner or whatever. I’m not going to jump you or cry in my pillow at night when you ignore me. That’s not what this is about. I was serious when I said someone wants you dead.”

  His eyes fluttered shut, and he turned his face to the sky. “Did you hear someone say that? Do you know who it is?”

  “Not exactly.”

  He climbed back onto the motorcycle and set his foot on the starter. “Stop playing games, Sara.”

  With a roar, the bike rumbled to life. He closed the visor over his face, blocking the heavenly view, and shook his head one last time.

  “It’s not a game,” she yelled over the cacophony. “I’m not messing with you.”

  He either didn’t hear or didn’t care. The tires squealed against pavement as he drove away—probably to McDonald’s again.

  “Damn it.”

  That hadn’t gone how she’d hoped.

  Ridley grabbed a box from the kitchen table and started cramming whatever he could find into it.

  Dobbins came in through the back door and cocked an eyebrow at the mess. “Found a place?”

  “Well, I hope.” Ridley chucked a sweatshirt into the suitcase on the floor and sat down. “Still waiting to hear back, but I can’t keep imposing like this. Especially not now that I have Blue.”

  The pup, who’d been curled on a pile of towels in the corner, lifted his head. He knew his name already. Ridley had somehow sensed the dog was smart.

  Rick bent down and held out a hand for Blue to sniff. The dog didn’t even wait before nuzzling the palm with a snuffle.

  “You know I don’t mind the dog. He seems to know how to behave.”

  “But I can’t keep—”

  Dobbins cut him off. “So, half the rent with me. That would be cheaper for both of us.”

  Blue nudged the man until he sat down and then crawled into his lap. Ridley eyed the two of them, the doubt starting to seep away. What would it hurt to stay in Cedar City? His dad hadn’t come looking for him, hadn’t asked about him. He’d probably never see the bastard again.

&nb
sp; And then there was Sara. Except he’d pushed her away for good. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep an eye on her. He’d still have to have breakfast sometimes, right?

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah. I’ll clean out the junk room. You can get a bed or something. Or hell, keep sleeping on the couch. I don’t care.”

  Ridley turned the box over and dumped everything back onto to the table. “All right, then. Thanks.”

  Maybe he could keep his shit together long enough to get out of this town for good. Away from his dad. Away from the whispers and stares that followed him around town. Away from Sara, who hadn’t been a factor before but, for some strange reason, now was.

  “I’m not playing games.”

  Ridley looked up from his French toast and sighed. “Hey, Sara.”

  Sara had waited two days. Had bitten her tongue for forty-eight hours. But then he’d shown up for breakfast, and she just couldn’t help her damn self. It was almost cute.

  “I’m not,” she repeated firmly. “I feel like I’m running out of time, though. I don’t know what to do about this, and I don’t know who to tell or how to stop it.”

  “This is my prize for being the first customer of the day, huh?” His mild voice carried a sliver of irritation, but in truth, he wanted to laugh.

  Sara’s mouth was set in a firm line, her blue gaze laser focused on his. However crazy she seemed, she apparently really believed someone was after him. Determination was sexy on her—the toss of her head and swing in her hips as she stalked away without refilling his coffee.

  “Hey. I can’t make it through this day without caffeine. I may walk into the path of an oncoming truck out there.”

  Sara froze, back stiff and fingers white around the coffee pot handle. Slowly, she turned, eyes narrowed and chest heaving. Jesus, she really was something to look at. Ridley sat back and enjoyed the show as she strode back to his booth. Without a word, she filled his cup, tossed creamer onto the table, and spun on her heel. He got to watch her walk away twice. Not at all punishment for pissing her off.

  With a groan, Ridley covered his face and scrubbed at the scruff on his cheeks. What was he thinking? Mr. Donovan was nice enough, but his wife was the mayor. She’d never stand for Ridley being within yards of her daughter for any other reason than for Sara to serve his breakfast. For some reason, that just made him want her more.

  “You all right?” Dobbins sat down across the table and snagged a piece of bacon from Ridley’s plate.

  Shit. Of course he wasn’t all right.

  8

  Sara glanced around the diner one last time to make sure everything was in place. She hadn’t been happy when Kate had called and asked her to cover the night shift for her, but the money in tips had eased the irritation. She was closing with a nice wad of bills in her tote.

  With a resounding click, the deadbolt slid into place. Sara dropped the keys into her bag and began to turn toward her car, but her reflection in the glass door caught her attention. Her heart gave a great thump as adrenaline spiked, setting every nerve on edge. A scream threatened, but she bit it back and shoved her hand back into the pocket of her oversized tote, fishing desperately for the tiny can of pepper spray that hung on her key ring. As her fingers grappled, her eyes studied the figure behind her.

  Clad in black, the man only watched, but his body was coiled and ready to spring. No measure was taken to cover his face, so close-cropped black hair, sharp cheekbones, and a strong, square jaw were all visible. The amber lights overhead made his light eyes glow.

  A painful tremble wracked Sara as she tried to decide how to proceed. If she turned, he might strike, and she was alone in the middle of town. Not a soul was around to protect her.

  “You know who I am?” The man’s voice was low, meant only for her ears.

  She nodded and met his gaze in the reflection. A smile crept across his face, revealing straight, white teeth. One step forward had Sara scrambling for the keys again, but the man shook his head.

  “Ye can’t move quickly enough, I promise.”

  The lilt was unmistakable, setting every nerve and vein in her body on fire.

  Ireland.

  “Ye do know who I am.” Satisfaction oozed around the words. “And you know why I’m here. I can tell by the look on your face.”

  “Sealgair.”

  “Aye.”

  Sara still didn’t turn. He would have to attack her from behind if he wanted to kill her, but she somehow knew he wouldn’t. Did he want to look her in the eye as he killed her? Did he want her to fight back?

  Alone, with no weapon and no training, Sara would succumb quickly to whatever plan Sealgair had in store.

  “Will I do it here, you think? Out in the open, where the good people of Cedar City will find you tomorrow. The favored daughter of the town. People would weep for weeks when they saw what I’d done.”

  Steel replaced adrenaline, straightening her spine and strengthening her resolve.

  “You’ll have to, because I’m certainly not going to follow you somewhere darker and more private. People do live here, and they’d run if they heard me scream.”

  Sealgair took a forward step intended to frighten Sara further, but she held her ground and his gaze.

  “You wouldn’t have time for that, either.” With a wicked grin, he brandished a blade that glinted in the streetlight.

  Before she could register the words, he’d leapt the several feet between them to land only inches away. A gloved hand covered her mouth as his other arm pressed against her throat.

  “You see now? You see that you have no options. I can kill you here, but it would be best for everyone if I didn’t.”

  Sara swallowed convulsively around the metallic fear in her mouth, preparing to scream against the leather on her lips. Her fingers found the pepper spray at that moment, and she ripped her hands from her pockets to aim. As she pressed the button to release the chemical, her knee drove into the man’s groin. Though slightly off target, she caught enough of the tender tissue to elicit a pained gasp.

  He collapsed against her, shoving her into the door his body to hold her in place, and then crushed his palms into his watering eyes. She didn’t have enough room to slip away. A swift punch to his solar plexus only served to remind him she was there.

  “That was a mistake you’ll not live long enough to regret.”

  Tears coursed unchecked down his face as he grabbed her again and pulled her away from the door and into the parking lot. A dark sedan waited in the shadows at the end of the building, the engine still running. When Sara saw the car ready to carry her to her death, she swung an arm back and caught the man in the chest. His grip relaxed again as he gasped, and she took the opportunity to round on him with a punch in the direction of his nose.

  Sealgair dodged the blow with the practiced ease of a trained fighter. A feral scream ripped from her throat and mingled with the dull rumble in her head as every thought fled, and she struck out with both fists. As one hand landed a punch to his kidney, the other smashed against the side of his head. The next blow bloodied Sealgair’s nose with a crunch of bone and cartilage. As she drew back to strike again, the parking lot flooded with light and a roar that sounded like Hell’s demons.

  And then her world went dark.

  Ridley didn’t have to drive by the diner on his way home from work, but something pulled him in that direction.

  Sara, of course. How could he tell her to stay away from him when he’d drive out of his way to maybe catch a glimpse of her? She probably wasn’t even working at night.

  Even so, he flipped his visor up and turned to look as he passed, just in case the diner was still open. Just in case he could see her dancing behind the counter like she did when she thought no one was watching.

  But the diner was dark. He sighed and started to flip the visor back down when he saw movement at the side of the parking lot. At first, he could only see one person, but then he realized someone dressed in black was
dragging a girl to a waiting car.

  Not just a girl. Sara.

  Ridley slammed on his brakes and cut the bike sharply into the parking lot. His headlight illuminated the struggling pair just in time for Ridley to see the black-clad man clock Sara on the side of the head.

  His heart seized, stealing his breath. Red swam behind his eyes as he sucked in calming breaths. Losing his shit wouldn’t help Sara one bit. But the raging pulse in his ears deafened him. His hands shook. His whole world tilted sideways.

  What would he do if something happened to her? He’d fought feelings for weeks now, when he could have been getting to know her.

  He reached down and pulled his pistol from his ankle holster as the bike rolled to a sharp stop. With the gun pointed at the man’s head, he swung one leg over the seat and then stood with both hands grasping the butt of the pistol. He heard the old Honda fall to the side behind him.

  “I will shoot you,” he shouted. “If you don’t let her go right now, I will pull this goddamn trigger.”

  The shadowed man held his hands up, dropping Sara into a heap on the cracked pavement. Ridley started forward, eyes never leaving the assailant, ready to shoot if the guy so much as blinked.

  “If you’re still standing there when I get to you, I will beat the ever loving shit out of you. Run now or die.”

  The attacker looked down at an unconscious Sara. His shoulders lifted and fell, as though he’d let out a huge sigh. Then, before Ridley could take another step, the man stepped back and disappeared into the shadows.

  Ridley froze and listened, still ready with his gun aimed in case the bastard came back for more. Footsteps on the pavement turned to the crunch of twigs and leaves as they retreated. He dared to wait just a few more seconds, just to be sure he wouldn’t be caught off guard, before holstering his gun and rushing to Sara’s side.

  She was out cold, looking like Sleeping Beauty. Except she’d bloodied the guy’s nose, at the very least. Ridley had seen the thick red gush in the light from his bike. Princess? No. This girl was a hellcat.