Shriek: Legend of the Bean Sídhe

by Jennifer M. Barry

  He could fix anything that came up, though. Dobbins was even better under a hood. Ridley would make it work, just like everything else in his life.

  Sara’s wide grin when he pulled up to the diner made it all disappear—the grief for the motorcycle, the uncertainty of his living situation. Everything.

  “I have so much to tell you,” she blurted as soon as he stepped out of the truck. Then, eyes wide, she glanced at the new vehicle behind him, finally registering that something was missing.

  “Wait. Where’s your motorcycle?”

  Ridley stared down at his boots as doubt slammed into him. Would she appreciate his reasoning?

  “Did something happen to it? Are you okay?”

  He looked up and shrugged. “I needed something you and Blue could ride in.”

  Sara put a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with wonder. “But… Didn’t you love that bike?”

  Ridley gave a half chuckle. “Yeah. I did. But it wasn’t really practical. I’ll be able to use the truck to clear out my woodworking supplies from Dad’s shed before he burns it all, too.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Well, that’s a bonus I wasn’t expecting. What do you build?”

  “Get your gun, and we’ll go shoot. I’ll tell you about it on the way.”

  She grabbed the box from her car, climbed into the passenger seat, gave Blue a scratch behind his ears, and then listened to Ridley talk about his tables, shelves, and chairs all the way to the clearing in the woods.

  “Do you sell them?” Sara sounded amazed at his secret hobby.

  “Sometimes. I don’t get to work on them often, so it takes a while to even make one. I thought about seeing if any of those fancy cabins in the mountains might want some.”

  Sara snagged her gun and turned around to speak through the open truck door. “That would be amazing! I could also help you set up a website, or a page on an online marketplace.”

  Having used only classified ads to sell his pieces before, Ridley was intrigued at the idea of setting up something more permanent.

  “Maybe. I have to get all my stuff first and, you know, make some things.”

  “Offer’s always open,” Sara said and shut the door.

  Her aim was getting better, but that didn’t stop her from dancing around every time she punched a hole in a can or bottle with a bullet. Ridley stepped back and just watched as she put the safety on the gun, set it down, and then went to retrieve her targets. When she needed to reload, he moved to help, but then stopped to see how she’d handle the ammunition on her own.

  Sara remembered everything he’d taught her. Every time she needed to reload, she worked to move more quickly. After several rounds, he was confident that she could handle herself in a moderately dangerous situation.

  Whoever was after her wasn’t moderately dangerous, though. He was hell-bent on killing her, and that would send Sara’s nerves flying. The only way to combat that was more practice.

  “You’re getting pretty good at that,” he drawled.

  She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “I’m a quick study.”

  “Want to take a break? You can tell me your news.”

  Sara gasped and nearly dropped the gun. “I can’t believe I forgot! You have a very sly way of making me forget everything.”

  Ridley closed the space between them and reached for the gun. A quick glance showed the safety was on, so he shoved it in his waistband and wrapped an arm around her waist. She melted into him, forehead against his chest, and took a deep breath.

  “It’s good news, but it’s also a little bad.”

  “I think I can handle it.”

  He slid a hand down her arm to twine his fingers through hers. She stepped forward when he tugged and followed him to the truck. With his free hand, he released the tailgate and patted a spot for her to sit.

  “I’m going to Ireland,” she gushed as she slid back onto the hot metal.

  Ridley felt a flutter in his chest, like his heart had taken a nosedive. “Is that safe? What about the hunter guy?”

  “The idea is to get out of America before he knows it. Then I can’t sing for you, either. We’ll stay with my cousins and see if we can’t figure out some way to break this stupid curse.”

  “Huh.” Ridley tried not to think about days and nights without her now that he’d gotten his head out of his ass and made her his.

  Was she his? He’d never even asked. She seemed to be. Seemed to want him just as much.

  He did want her. More than he’d thought possible. Maybe she’d had her eye on him longer, but the depth of his feelings for her—and the speed with which they’d developed—nearly took his breath away.

  And now she was leaving him.

  These words, words he should say, tumbled through his head. How to tell her how much he’d miss her. How to let her know he was hers.

  “You’ll take the gun?”

  Sara huffed a laugh. “Even if I got out of America with it, they wouldn’t let me into Ireland. I’ll have to leave it here.”

  Ridley’s fingers tightened around hers. “But what if—”

  “My dad will be with me the whole time,” she assured him.

  “He’ll know you’re gone,” Ridley started.

  “But not for a couple of days. Not until he can’t find me at my usual places. And the important thing is that you’ll be safe. I’ll have some time to see if I can figure this out, and you won’t die while I’m working on it.”

  He pulled his gaze from the ground and found her looking back at him, eyes clear and bright and filled with something like hope.

  “My cousins know more than I do, and their grandmothers even more. They found an old book from four generations ago, so it might have some answers to questions I don’t even know to ask yet. Together, we can maybe do something to stop this spirit for good.”

  “Just in case,” he whispered. “Just in case you… In case something…”

  Ridley couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Instead, he put his mouth to work on hers. And then his hands, first to cup her face, and then to tangle in her hair at the nape of her neck.

  One hand left her to reach into the gear box and wrestle a blanket free. It was dirty and flecked with dried grass and oil, but it would protect her legs from the heat of the metal truck bed.

  Sara pulled away and helped him spread the cover before taking her place back in his arms. He guided her back, gently, slowly. The heavy July sun beat down, warming the skin he exposed as he slowly lifted her shirt. His gaze flew to hers, hoping she’d say yes.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Higher, higher the thin cotton moved, until she struggled upright to pull it over her head. Only lace and denim between them. He kissed her again, lips and tongue searching, welcoming.

  ‘’Sara,” he moaned. How could she make him feel this way? This innocent girl, only recently a woman.

  She fumbled between them, first with the button to his jeans and then to her shorts. When both were gone, so was his mind.

  12

  From the bed of the truck, Sara watched the sliver of moon peek from behind the tops of the tall pines. Ridley’s fingers danced idly through her hair and over her bare shoulders. She’d put her bra back on, still shy in front of him in spite of the lovemaking. Twice.

  “I hated this truck when I bought it this morning,” Ridley murmured. “It’s currently my favorite thing I own.”

  Sara laughed and patted the truck bed through the blanket. “It’s a good truck. Sturdy.”

  Ridley pulled her over onto his chest and kissed the top of her head. “Wish I could go with you.”

  Sara sucked in a breath. God, how she’d love to explore Ireland with Ridley. But, no. That would defeat the whole point of the trip. Or one of the points.

  “I wish you could, too. You should see where your family is from. But the idea is that I’m so far away that I can’t shriek while you die. That doesn’t work if you’re right next to me.”

  “How lo
ng will you be gone?”

  “A week.”

  A week without Ridley. Her heart gave a weak thump again.

  “Just you and your dad?”

  “And my gran, if she can find someone to watch her cats while she’s gone,” Sara laughed. “Oh, my gran would love you. I have to take you to meet her when we get back.”

  “Or you can take me tomorrow. I’ll watch her cats for her, if they don’t mind Blue.”

  Sara sat up. “Really? What about work?”

  Ridley shrugged. “I’m still on the road crew fixing that landslide about halfway between here and Burnsville. Won’t matter one way or the other which way I travel.”

  “But what if Blue eats her cats?”

  At this, Ridley let out a belly laugh. “That dog doesn’t even chase squirrels. He’s not a hunter, that’s for sure.”

  “Let’s do it then. For now, I better get home. Mom thinks I’m working at the diner tonight, and Dad will only cover for me so much.”

  They dressed slowly, Sara still remembering every touch, whisper, kiss, as she covered the skin he’d seen for hours. She wondered if he would keep those memories, too. Or had she just been one more in a line of women who’d thrown themselves at him?

  He’d known exactly how to make her whimper and writhe. Every spot to give his attention. He’d held her with such gentleness and guided her to the places where he needed her most. He’d sighed and moaned along with her, never once making her feel as inexperienced as she clearly was.

  A man wouldn’t make a woman feel that way if she was just another notch, would he?

  Sara tried to force these thoughts away, but they persisted, as stubborn as she was, until he took her hand from across the cab of the truck and held it all the way back to the diner. When he had to switch gears, Ridley placed her hand on top of the gearshift, covered it, and guided her through the change before twining their fingers together again.

  No, she wasn’t a notch. Not even close.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Sara’s grandmother exclaimed as she opened the screen door. “You’re just as handsome as Sara said you were.”

  “Gran,” Sara yelped.

  She glanced over at Ridley, expression both exasperated and mortified. He just laughed.

  “Come in; come in,” Aine continued. “Bring in that sweet dog so he can meet the ladies.”

  Ridley nudged Blue forward but kept a tight grip on the leash, just in case. The pup had never made a move toward another animal before, but Ridley sure as hell didn’t want the first time to be Aine’s cats.

  Blue took a shy step forward and sniffed the air. He definitely was aware of the cats. One sauntered by a few feet away, giving the dog a once-over before prancing through the doorway to another room. A second cat hissed from atop the slipcovered sofa.

  After one quick flinch, Blue plopped down in the middle of the living room floor.

  “You are a good boy, aren’t you?” Aine crooned.

  When she leaned over to give the dog a good scratch behind the ears, Ridley was struck by just how much Sara resembled her. The sweet nature, the mischievous grin, and the love for animals—and that was before he registered how alike their big blue eyes were.

  “Well, this went better than I expected,” Sara said drily.

  “Of course it did,” Aine said and hustled them toward the kitchen. “Now, come have some Madeira cake and tea. I made it special for your visit.”

  Her Irish accent was still there in every word, colored heavily by a Southern drawl she’d picked up after decades in North Carolina. Ridley as fully charmed and accepted the generous slice of cake without argument.

  “Once upon a time, an O’Neill wouldn’t have been caught dead in my kitchen,” Aine started. “Oh, I guess that’s a poor way to put things, because he probably would have been caught dead.”

  Ridley snorted into his tea as Sara gasped.

  “Gran! No threatening the guests.”

  “Now, now. I just meant the O’Neills in Ireland knew to avoid the banshee.”

  He tried once more not to shoot tea through his nose at her constant foot-in-mouth. “Well, I supposed I’ve never been the brightest bulb in the house, but really I blame Sara. She’s pretty irresistible.”

  Sara opened her mouth, cheeks wild with color, but a yowl from the living room cut off whatever she was going to say. Blue trotted into the kitchen, unfazed by the threat, and plopped down at Ridley’s feet. Though he eyed the cake with interest, he didn’t bother to beg.

  Ridley took the opportunity to switch gears, saving Sara from her embarrassment. “The O’Neills in Ireland know that the banshee foretells their death?”

  “Mmm,” Aine confirmed, her mouth full of cake. “It’s widely considered a myth, a legend, in Ireland. Except by those who’ve lived it, of course. All the families we sing for are aware, have been for ages, but they don’t take it too seriously.”

  “Like Bloody Mary,” Sara said.

  “What’s that, dear?”

  “You know, the legend of Bloody Mary. You turn around three times in front of the mirror and turn the light on and off while chanting her name, and she appears.”

  “I used to play that,” Ridley said. “When I was a kid, we used to dare each other to do it and report back on the playground whether or not we saw her.”

  “And did you?” Aine leaned forward, fully transfixed by this new legend.

  “Hell, I thought I did.” Ridley huffed a small laugh. “Scared the— Scared me to death.”

  “Just an optical illusion from the lights,” Sara said.

  “Can’t tell that to a terrified kid,” Ridley said.

  Aine ran her finger over her plate to pick up errant crumbs. “I suppose it was something like that when I was a child. Whispers and dares, until I woke up at eighteen shrieking in the night. All too real, then.”

  “And you don’t know how to stop it?” Ridley followed her lead and picked the remaining cake and icing from his own saucer.

  “We’ve had a few bits and pieces of lore passed down over the years, but ‘tis scattered now, along with the rest of the families. If the answer is out there, we have to find the other girls and see what they know of the legends.”

  “If they’re like me, then nothing.” Sara stood to gather the dishes and busied herself at the sink. “I hope there’s something helpful in the book Brenna’s grandmother found. I’m so excited to meet them.”

  Aine went to haul out the photos again for Ridley while Sara finished cleaning up. They sat together, marveling again over how much Sara resembled her grandmother, discussing the Irish king that may have been Ridley’s ancestor, and even Ridley’s biggest problem—his lack of a real home.

  He found Aine as easy to talk to as Sara was, but then, he’d never really tried to talk to anyone before. His father was a strict non-starter when it came to feelings, and none of the guys on the crew welcomed chats over tea about problems. Dobbins was the exception, but not by much. Just enough to offer a place to live, but not so much an ear to listen to why he needed it.

  Before he realized what was happening, he’d shared the long-believed rumor about his father.

  “I don’t really know what happened. I was only four. Hadn’t even started school yet. I just remember a lot of yelling. My dad was throwing things. I hid behind the couch and stayed there even after he chased her out of the house. It’s all a blur after that. Bits and pieces of a funeral. My dad being nicer than I’d ever seen him for a while.”

  Aine reached over and patted his hand. He wanted to curl up in her lap, the first motherly figure he’d had since he could even remember. How, when he’d just met her, did she manage to put him so at ease?

  “No one said anything around me until junior high. The other kids probably didn’t even know until then. Parents whispered about it until the kids were old enough to talk out loud. And then they all taunted me about it during gym class.”

  “Jesus,” Sara whispered. “I’d always figured you had every
thing together. I mean, I’d heard the rumors and stuff, but you just seemed so…above it all.”

  Ridley shrugged. “I don’t know what happened. Probably never will. But I know my dad’s a mean bastard. He put down the drink for a few years; managed to get me to high school. But then he gave up. Spends every dime on the cheapest whiskey they have at the liquor store.”

  “They must have investigated,” Sara said.

  “I’m sure they did. But nothing happened to him. I could look it up now, but I don’t want to. I don’t know if I could handle what I’d find.”

  “Some mysteries probably shouldn’t be solved.” Aine patted Ridley’s hand one last time and stood. “Let me show you where everything is. I want you to make yourself at home while you’re here.”

  After the tour, Sara and Ridley gathered up Blue, said their goodbyes, and headed back to Cedar City.

  “She’s great,” Ridley said after riding in silence.

  “Yeah. I didn’t really get to know her until recently. My mom thinks she’s nuts.”

  He chanced a quick glance at her, struck by the sadness in her voice, but also the edge of anger.

  “Hey,” he started, hoping to comfort. “You have to give your mom a little credit. What would you think if someone told you they were a banshee?”

  Sara laughed and stuck her arm out the window. “To be honest, right now, I’d be thrilled. I know there are at least two more out there besides me, Fiona, and Brenna. But yeah, I know what you mean. She’s making a judgment based on what she knows to be true. And what she knows to be true is that banshees don’t exist.”

  “I’ll be honest. Sometimes I still have a hard time wrapping my head around it. I definitely thought you were crazy when you first told me.”

  Sara unfastened her seat belt and scooted across the truck bench to his side. “You gonna miss this crazy ass while I’m in Ireland?”

  Ridley wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, fighting back a sign when she rested her head on his chest. He chanced a quick kiss to the top of her head.