Silver at Midnight: A Paranormal Romance Urban Fantasy (The Keepers of Knowledge Series Book 5)

by Bridgette O'Hare

  “I . . . I was going to say marshmallows,” I breathed out raggedly.

  “Funny,” he inched his lips closer to mine. “That’s not what I was going to say at all.”

  I closed my eyes, fully expecting that I had already lost the battle of wills, until the alarm sounded. My eyes flew open and met his. For a split second, neither of us flinched. Then Cian’s stare snapped up and began to survey the darkness outside. From our position in the shadowy corner of the room, we’d be nearly invisible from outside. And that was our advantage.

  Movement caught my eye near the opposite corner of the cottage where the steps spread over the entire end of the deck. I touched Cian’s arm to get his attention, ignoring the heat, and pointed.

  “I need you to let the ward down just long enough to let me out, then put it back immediately. A’ight?” Cian directed.

  That wasn’t my first choice. My first choice would have been to run after them myself, but we’d agreed over dinner. So, I nodded.

  “Promise you’ll stay here?” Cian begged.

  “Okay.” I bobbed my head up and down.

  He eased to the door, I lowered the ward, and he slipped out into the darkness. I immediately reset the ward around the house and said a prayer. And I wasn’t even the praying type.

  Nineteen

  Cian stood at the back deck, hands on his hips, looking a little more than pissed in his now wet flannel pajamas. I dropped the ward and opened the door.

  “You do not look happy,” I stated. “What happened?”

  “I didn’t catch the bad guy, that’s what happened,” he huffed out as he strode into the warmth of the cottage and stopped just inside.

  I closed the door behind him and set the ward, then surveyed the area I could see through the darkness before turning back toward him. “You okay?” I asked.

  He let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, for someone who just chased himself down the beach, aye, I’m doin’ a’ight.”

  “I can see how that might be a lit’l on the strange side. I mean, at least ya can describe him, right?” I pulled my lips tight, suppressed my urge to laugh, and leaned back against the door frame. “Wait . . . how do I know you’re really Cian?”

  His face lit up with a hint of a smile. “Ya got jokes. Go ahead, laugh. I know ya want t’.”

  “I’m sorry. I know you’re frustrated. But imagine watchin’ yourself chase . . . yourself down the beach in the dark,” I snickered.

  He let out a chuckle. “I’m sure it would be amusin’ to watch. But ya know what pisses me off most about the situation?” he asked as he took a step toward me.

  I twitched my lips to one side, as if I were thinking. “Umm . . . that ya got the bottom of your flannels wet?”

  He shook his head back and forth, taking another step.

  Blood pulsed hard through my veins.

  “That . . . that your hot chocolate got cold?” I tried again, my voice struggling.

  Still shaking his head, he closed the gap between us.

  “That I didn’t get to do this—” In one smooth motion, his hand slid around my head, pulling me to him. With an intense urgency, his mouth molded to mine and then softened as the emotions of the last few days released into our embrace. I leaned into him, barely able to breathe as his warmth drifted over me, through me. It was a kiss deep with lingering affection and charged with the promise of something more. Something I was certain could be the end of me . . . and the beginning.

  When he eased his lips away and rested his forehead to mine, the rise and fall of his breathing filled the space between us. Swirls of energy like I’d never felt thrummed over my skin. When his lips pressed tenderly against my forehead, I let out a sigh and sunk further into his embrace.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that since I laid eyes on you,” he whispered.

  I smiled, my cheek resting against his chest, his arms safely around me. “What took ya so long?”

  His chest rumbled with a soft laugh. “I suppose that darn gentlemanly streak. And . . . I wasn’t sure it was a good idea,” he admitted.

  “And now?” I asked, looking up at him, eyes wide.

  “Probably the best idea and worst idea I’ve ever had,” he winked.

  “Aye, I’d go with worst,” I teased.

  “And why is that?”

  “Because now ya aren’t gonna want t’ help me go through all those books,” I nodded toward the coffee table. “Now, you’re just gonna want t’ kiss me again.”

  “Oh . . . like this?” He pressed his lips to mine once more, slow and sweet, leaving me a little light-headed.

  “You’re right,” he admitted. “Those books d’not seem as appealing now.”

  I shook my head. “Nope. I told ya. But if we are goin’ t’ meet with Uncle Lach tomorrow, he’s gonna want t’ know how we did with the research tonight. And I don’t think tellin’ him we studied anatomy is goin’ t’ go over well.”

  Cian huffed out a hard breath. “Fine. If ya don’t want t’ kiss me anymore, just say so.”

  “Okay.” I shrugged, spun out of his embrace, and twirled over to the couch, plopping down like a giddy teenager. I grinned over at him, still standing by the door, pretending to be hurt that I left him there alone.

  “Alright. If we are goin’ t’ actually work, I’ll heat the hot chocolate back up.” He grabbed my mug from a small table near the back door where I’d hastily put it when the alarm went off.

  While he went to the kitchen, I booted up my laptop and checked for an email from Lazlo and Kara. Everything looked good, so I saved the file and started the decryption process. I grabbed one of the research books from the table and knocked my notebook to the floor in the process. The note Pixie Witch had given me in the cemetery slipped out onto the rug. I picked it up and read it a couple of times then returned to my laptop and typed Silver Moon into the search bar.

  Cian joined me a few minutes later with now warm mugs of chocolate.

  “How’d ya know chocolate was the way to my heart?” I quipped as I took the mug and he sat down next to me on the couch.

  “Who said I was after your heart?” he teased and winked.

  “I know, ya just want me for my covert skills.”

  “A guy can dream.”

  “Well, so can a girl. And right now, I’m dreamin’ about how t’ decipher what this note means.” I stole a deep drink from the mug, set it aside, and began typing.

  Cian picked up the note, reading it aloud, then said, “I’m curious if you’ll find anything about a silver moon.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because they only happen once every . . . actually, I can’t remember the number of years, but I do remember reading about it someplace, and it was a rare occurrence. That’s why I grabbed—” he leaned over and picked a book from the table, “this.” He held up a book with the title Lunar Anomalies. “It just happened to be sitting next to the book on the Kanna Stone, and I don’t believe in coincidences. Everything happens for a reason.” He first checked the table of contents, then flipped to the index. “Here we are. Page seventy-seven.” He thumbed back to the middle of the book until he found what he was looking for and began reading aloud. “Silver Moons occur every 1,212 years on the twelfth day of all twelve months during that year. Hmph. That’s interesting.”

  “What? Is there more?”

  “Well, there is, but just that itself is interesting. Don’t ya think?”

  “Aye, ‘tis. But what else does it say?”

  “There’s something about reflections of the moon. Oh, and there’s a notation with some kind of equation here . . . and some coordinates. Seriously, someone actually wrote it all in the margins.”

  “Sounds complex. I mean, if it only happens every 1,212 years, that can’t be what this note is even talkin’ about, right? I mean, sounds like this guy is wantin’ me t’ do math. I like words. Give me a dead language or a riddle about an artifact and we can talk. Don
’t ask me t’ do equations or you’ll be sorely disappointed.”

  Cian offered an amused eyeroll. “Well, good thing for you, I can math, eh?”

  “Knock y’self out. Let me know what ya come up with.”

  We settled into a comfortable silence, Cian working on the Silver Moon calculations, me reading through the files Kara and Lazlo had sent over. There were only three files, and each of them offered a different, but equally strange, origin story for the Tartaros Blade. The more I read, the tighter my chest constricted, knowing I needed to find something tangible about this weapon. I glanced over and felt the magic tingling in my core at just the thought of his kiss on my forehead. I couldn’t allow that blade to take the life of the man sitting next to me. I tried to refocus.

  “Ha!” Cian proclaimed loudly.

  I crooked my head in his direction and raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s a math thing. I figured out the math thing.” He seemed pleased with himself.

  “Well, please do share with the class.”

  “If my calculations are correct . . . I’ve always wanted to say that.”

  I chuckled at his enthusiasm.

  “Anyway, if my calculations are correct, there have already been nine Silver Moons this year. This is the year. And there will not be another full year of Silver Moons for another 1,212 years,” Cian explained.

  “I’m not even going to bother asking how you calculated that. I like my brain not hurting. So, wait . . . if there have been nine Silver Moons, why haven't we seen them, or have we? What are we supposed to be looking for? Does that book give you that information?”

  “You sure ask a lot of questions,” he joked. “Let’s see.” He returned to reading the book. “Okay . . . so, according to whoever wrote this, it seems that a Silver Moon is simply a reflection of the moon itself. But it doesn’t really explain how that happens. I wonder if these coordinates have something to do with it. Maybe someone smarter than us figured it out. I’ll check the web.” He picked up his phone from the table and did a quick search. “So . . . these coordinates are only a couple of hours north of here. In the White Mountains.”

  “And this is supposed to happen on the twelfth?”

  He nodded.

  “Cian, that’s Monday. . .” I looked at the clock. It was just after ten. “Yeah, if it’s a midnight thing, that’s about forty-eight hours from now.”

  “Hmm . . . Sounds like a field trip,” he proposed.

  “Why couldn’t the Silver Moon be the name of some weird Supernatural Bar?”

  “Tell ya what, I happen to know a good bar. We can pretend,” he suggested.

  “Can’t say I’ve ever been much of the bar type, but I would like to see Rocky’s. I’ll even let ya buy me a drink.”

  “I think I can arrange that. Me and the owner are pretty tight.” He held two fingers up and twisted them together.

  “Question. Bit off topic. Other than a Mimic, who or what might be able to take on the form of someone else?”

  He contemplated a moment. “You’re referring to my unauthorized doppelgänger, right?”

  “I am.”

  “Well, without an artifact, it would have to be a Mimic. There's really no other explanation.”

  “That’s what I thought. I suppose we need to do a search and figure out what artifacts impart that ability on a person.”

  “Tomorrow is going to be a full day of research at the library, isn’t it?” Cian stated the question more than asked it.

  “I’ll add artifact search to the list.”

  “You and your lists,” he mocked.

  “Don’t mock the lists. You’re on one . . . maybe two.” I gave a flirtatious eyebrow wiggle and winked. “Now, get back to work. We have a lot to go over before we can call it a night.”

  Bantering with Cian was effortless and playful, but it also sent stabs of torment through my heart. Before I could even enjoy finding something comfortable that felt like more than a passing phase, I had to face the visions of losing it . . . and him.

  Distress weighed heavy on my heart as I looked at him. He caught my gaze and reached a hand over to grab mine.

  “What’s on your mind, lass?

  “I was thinking about the visions you gave me.”

  “Aye. What about them?”

  “Had you seen those before you—? I mean, I know ya must’ve had them in your own head t’ be able to share them, but ya hadn’t seen the last one. So, I’m wonderin’ if you had seen the war? The destruction The Saiad can inflict if they get the Kanna Stone before we can. Had you seen that before?”

  “Nay. I had not.”

  “Why do you think that vision came through? Why do you think I saw what I did? I've never had visions. Only Seer Sight which happens when I'm dreaming. But this . . . this was powerful. Different.”

  Torture filled his gaze as he squeezed my hand and hung his head. He closed his eyes for a moment and then looked up at me and asked, “Do you believe in fate? Destiny? Soul mates?”

  “I have always believed we have a purpose. That we have a higher calling than living our lives for only ourselves.”

  A knowing smile formed on his lips. “Here is what I know to be true. We are not meant to be alone or live only for ourselves. And when we find the soul we are meant to be with, we are capable of more . . . so much more, we shine brighter, we are stronger. I believe that's what happened between us. I believe we are stronger together—you and me.” He reached up and brushed a strand of my hair aside, tucking it behind my ear.

  I wanted to believe what he believed. I wanted to believe that soul mates existed and that somehow Cian and I would be strong enough together to change the vision. There were just so many obstacles standing before us, and I had to wonder just how strong we would need to be to remove them all.

  “Let me ask you something, Aish. Since arriving in Pyreshore, have you felt stronger? Have any of your gifts or abilities been sharper or different?”

  I considered his question carefully before responding. “I’m not sure. My dreams have been different. I don’t know if I’ve interacted with others enough or had the chance to notice a difference in my other abilities. Other than meeting Kage, Nira, and Dex Long, I’ve only interacted with Uncle Lach and you.”

  His eyebrows raised at the mention of the Dragon shifter I’d met only briefly. “Dex Long?”

  “Aye, Nira introduced us as she gave me my initial tour of the Library. Don’t worry, he’s not my type.”

  “Yeah, women never go for the good-looking billionaire types.”

  “You’re pretty hot when you’re trying not to be jealous,” I teased.

  “Not jealous. They say you just know when you know. Well, maybe you don’t yet. But I do. I knew it the moment you turned around and I looked you in the eyes.” He leaned closer. “So, you just take your time. I’ll be right here . . . already knowing.”

  Twenty

  I awoke the next morning curled up beside Cian, still snuggled on the couch where we’d fallen asleep. After the events and discoveries of the evening, and despite not getting through everything, we had put all the materials away and sat on the couch drinking hot chocolate and talking. A thunderstorm blew through around midnight, and that's the last thing I remembered before waking up next to him. I watched him sleeping, relaxed and free from our current troubles. Could I have faith like his—faith in him? Was there such a thing as soul mates and had I found mine? He sure seemed convinced. I was pondering the possibilities when he awoke.

  “Mornin’ beautiful,” he said, lightly kissing the top of my head. “You been awake long?”

  “Nope,” I answered with a subtle shake of my head. “Just a few minutes.”

  “How ‘bout I make us a quick breakfast?”

  After breakfast we changed and headed to Cian's to pick up a few necessary items and get his SUV. Before long, we were on the third floor of the library, searching through the Fae archives. I was take
n back by the level of security needed to gain entry to the third floor. The Keepers were not messing around when it came to the artifacts housed there. There was even a vault. According to Cian, the Silver Scroll Uncle Lachlan had been studying was kept in the vault. But until he returned from his trip with the access key, I couldn't get my eyes on it. So . . . I spent the majority of the morning reviewing Uncle Lachlan’s translation notes while Cian searched for leads to the location of the Kanna Stone.

  When I had exhausted all I could glean from Uncle Lach’s notes, I turned my attention to the two collective journals we had retrieved from the research room on the first floor. Cian had gotten a call just before I switched gears and went to Rocky’s to handle some business. He promised to return with coffee and lunch. So, when I heard voices in the corridor just outside the high-security entry to the archive room, I expected Cian to walk through with Uncle Lachlan.

  I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Cian sauntered into the room, coffee in hand. “Sorry I took so long. Had to pick up our Saiad contact a lit’l earlier than expected since Brenhin had a detour.” When he stepped aside to place lunch on the table, I was staring directly at a blast from the past.

  “Aish, I believe you know Darek,” Cian stated nonchalantly as he unpacked our lunch from the bag on the table.

  Thankfully, I was sitting down. I physically felt the blood rush out of my face. My mouth went dry, and a lump formed in my throat. I tried to swallow, but it wasn't happening. Breathing was a bit of a struggle as well. And before Darek spoke a word, I could see it in his eyes.

  He remembered me.

  “Hello, Aish,” Darek said softly, his tone laced with familiarity and underlying affection.

  Cian snapped to attention and slowly sat the coffee in front of me, his stare volleying between me and Darek.

  It took a moment, but I finally managed to swallow. I nodded in acknowledgment and uttered, “Darek.”

  “Ye look well,” Darek added as he stepped fully into the room and pushed the door closed behind him without ever diverting his attention away from me.