“You can’t tell me you never think about who your parents might be?” I murmured. “Or what your name was? Or if you left anyone behind?”
Boone stared at me, then winced as a headache tore through his temples. Raising my hands, I pressed my thumbs against his forehead and began rubbing slow circles, coaxing my magic to soothe the sting of his attempt at reconciling his memories.
“I do think about it,” he whispered as the pain eased. “I had this whole other life I’m disconnected from. But it’s gone, Skye. Who that man was, I don’t know him. He’s a stranger.”
Oh, Boone… He’d been distant because he’d believed Carman might use him to get to me. Wolves had been chasing him the first night he arrived in Derrydun just like the wolf that appeared at the hawthorn and attacked me. Thanks to Hannah, he’d thought he was to blame for it almost eating me. I also suspected he believed everything that had happened since his arrival was his fault.
They weren’t in the slightest.
“Promise me,” I said, grasping his face in my hands. “Promise me properly this time.”
“Anythin’.”
“Promise me you’ll never keep any secrets, and I’ll do the same. If something is bothering you, talk to me about it. Me, too. I don’t want to go through another breakup. I wouldn’t survive it.”
“I promise.” His hand grasped my thigh, and he squeezed. “I more than promise. It’s me vow.”
“Our greatest strength is our bond,” I said, sounding all philosophical. “If we have that, then they can’t hurt us. Screw their prophecy.”
“One day at a time.” He leaned in for a kiss.
“Sounds good to me.”
Chapter 12
The following morning, I moseyed on into Irish Moon feeling happier than I had in a while.
The witchy life was never going to be easy breezy, but at least Boone and I were in a good place. And now that I’d seen his place and dispelled the mystery over his sleeping arrangements, we could go back to staying at mine. It didn’t reek of boy at the cottage.
We parted ways in the garden that morning with a risqué kiss. Then he went off to Roy’s to work the fields, and I skipped around to Irish Moon. We were the perfect couple, finally.
I also ignored the tarot cards and didn’t bother drawing another. Nothing could burst my bubble today. Nothing. At least until twelve o’clock rolled around, and my stomach began to growl, demanding to be fed like a pouty toddler.
“I’m just going to get some lunch before the next bus rolls in,” I said to Lucy, who was pottering around the shop, straightening the stock after the last stampede. “You’ll be right for a sec?”
“Sure.”
“Can I get you anything?”
She shook her head. “I brought me own lunch today, but thanks.”
It was freezing outside, so I darted across to Mary’s Teahouse as quickly as my feet would carry me. Pushing into the neon pink cottage, I was hit square in the face with a wall of blissful heat.
“Hi, Mary,” I called out as I closed the door behind me.
The older lady shuffled out of the kitchen and smiled when she saw me beside the counter.
“Skye,” she exclaimed. “Are you back for lunch again?”
“I can’t get enough of your chicken and salad sandwiches. You know that.” Eyeing off the display of cookies on the counter, I pointed to the double chocolate chip. “Throw in one of those for dessert if you wouldn’t mind.”
She clucked her tongue and reached for the sandwich she’d already prepared, knowing I was coming in all along. Man, I loved Mary. When it came to food and divining the future of it, she was pure magic.
She slid it into a white paper bag, then added the cookie.
“You know what?” I said. “Put in an extra cookie for Lucy.”
“How is she gettin’ along?” Mary asked, slipping another treat into the paper bag with my sandwich.
“She’s great. She’s great with the customers and actually interested in working, you know?”
“That’s fantastic. Good for you.”
“She’s no Mairead, but she’s pretty close.”
Mary made a face, and I chuckled. It wasn’t any secret she didn’t understand the Goth girl and her fashion choices, but at least it was innocent. Mairead had told me stories about being bullied at school because of her black lipstick.
“Tell me, Skye,” she began, looking shifty. “What do you think of chicken and lamb for the mains?”
“What?”
“I know you kids like to have a vegetarian option, but I’m still workin’ on some recipes.”
“Options for what?”
“We need to lock in these things early. There’s a lot of plannin’ for a weddin’ of this size. We can’t just slap a few sandwiches on a plate and call it a day.” She clucked her tongue.
“Mary!” I exclaimed. “Boone and I are not getting married!”
“You say that now…” She waggled her finger at me. “But when you find a good man, you better get a ring on your finger quick smart. There are plenty of sharks out there waitin’ to take a bite, Skye.”
I let out a frustrated cry and snatched up my sandwich. Storming across the teahouse, I shoved the door open with a violent jab.
“Remember the sharks, dear!” Mary called out after me. “And let me know what Boone thinks about the menu!”
What was with this village and their obsession with marrying me off to Boone? I loved him, but we’d only been together like two months or however long it had been. I hadn’t exactly marked it on my calendar. I wasn’t into shotgun weddings. Besides, there was nothing to shotgun. My uterus had never been occupied, past or present, thank you very much!
Stomping across the street, I opened the door to Irish Moon and stopped dead in my tracks.
Lucy was mucking around with the tumbled stones, forcing them up into the air. She was making them float, her fingers twisting and turning, manipulating their trajectory. Lucy was a witch! I could sense her magic as clear as day.
I let out a dramatic gasp, and my grip loosened on my sandwich and cookies. They fell to the floor with a plop, and Lucy turned around, her mouth falling open.
“It’s not what it looks like,” she declared, the stones falling back into the display.
“Noooooo,” I said, drawing out the word. “I knew you were too good to be true!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!” I pointed my finger at her. “You’re a witch!”
“So are you!”
“I can’t believe I bought you a cookie!”
“You bought me a cookie?”
I chased her around the display, firing off questions.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. “If you knew, then why didn’t you say?”
“You know what it’s like,” she said, backing away. “You know what’s out there.”
“But we’re on the same side!”
“Really? I’ve known others who would sell out their own children for a bit of favor.”
“Seriously? That’s terrible!”
“Power corrupts,” she said defiantly.
She had a point.
“Why are you working here?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “What do you want from me? Are you a spy?”
“No!” she declared. “I’m not!”
“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure you knew or at least suspected what Alex was.”
She paled and ceased her fleeing.
“If you suspected, then why didn’t you warn me?” I demanded. “He almost dragged me away!”
“You’re one of them,” she said with a squeak.
“One of them?” I exclaimed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know your own family history. You’re a Crescent Witch!”
Her tone of voice made it sound like she was calling me a Crescent bitch. Like I was some self-important, stuck-up princess with her head in the clouds. Boone had referred to t
he Crescents as the most powerful coven in Ireland before their decline in the wake of Carman’s betrayal, but I didn’t know anything about that. I might be the last member, but I wasn’t a name.
“Four months,” I said. “Four months and…” I counted the days on my fingers. “Two weeks. That’s how long I’ve known. I never knew my mother, I never knew the coven, and I sure as hell don’t know you!”
She cringed, clearly frightened of me.
“How did you know who I was, but I couldn’t tell who you were?” I demanded, almost stomping on my sandwich.
“Everyone thought the Crescents were over,” she said. “I didn’t believe them!”
“Who? Where are the other witches? Why won’t they show themselves?”
“You know why,” Lucy exclaimed. “They’re afraid of losing their magic!”
“So I’m left to fight on my own?” I demanded. “How is that fair?”
“You’re a Crescent,” she said again like it was the answer to everything.
“So?” I threw my hands up into the air. “It’s not an excuse to hide like cowards! Do you really think I can protect an entire country on my own? Huh?”
“Skye, I didn’t…”
“Didn’t what?” I placed my hands on my hips and waited.
“When we heard about the last Crescent passin’, we thought that was it. We might be able to come out of hidin’.”
I stared at her, my expression falling. “What does that mean? You don’t want me?”
“I know you don’t mean it,” Lucy said, stumbling over her words. “You can’t help bein’ born.”
The prophecy. My blood was the key to breaking the chains—the chains being the curse that barred Carman from Ireland. Since my ancestors had locked the fae realm, I was the sole key to opening the doorways. She’d been collecting magic for a thousand years, and all she needed was a way to get close to the hawthorns, which was where the prophecy came into play.
The Crescents were at the heart of this whole war, and I was to blame for everyone’s pain and suffering by simply being born. Now I knew why I’d never met any witches. They hated my guts because of the color of my magic.
“No, I don’t mean it,” I said sharply. “I never asked for any of this. I never asked to be the sole soldier in a war for a people I’ve never met, and now you’re telling me they don’t even want me? I didn’t start this war, but I’ve been lumped with it all the same.”
I picked up my sandwich from the floor and peered inside the bag. It was still good, and so were the cookies. My cookies.
“Skye—”
“You can go home for today,” I interrupted, not wanting to hear it. “Maybe I’ll be more amicable about being an epic pain in the ass to the people I’m supposed to protect, no questions asked, tomorrow.”
Turning my back, I took out my sandwich and began unwrapping it. Behind me, the bell above the door jingled, signaling Lucy had fled. Only time would tell if she came back.
Here I was all ready to go into battle against an unknown power that might kill me, and my own people would rather I die than even try to defeat the biggest evil of all?
Shoving a cookie into my mouth, I sighed, spitting crumbs across the counter.
What an epic slap in the face.
“I knew she wasn’t all that!” I declared as I stormed across the top field, barely missing a pile of sheep droppings.
Boone raised his head and proceeded to look perplexed.
“What are you talkin’ about?” he asked as the sheep scattered.
Phee streaked across the side of the hill after them, herding the black and white puffballs back into a neat pack.
“Lucy!” I declared, putting my hands only hips. “I caught her!”
He straightened up and dusted off his hands on his jeans. “Caught her doin’ what? Was she stealin’ out of the till or somethin’?”
“No! She was making the tumbled stones float! She’s a witch!”
Boone’s mouth formed an O shape.
“So we were both right, thank you very much.”
“You thought she was a fae,” he countered.
“Don’t make this into an argument.”
“You’re the one who stormed up here,” he said, trying not to laugh.
“Why aren’t you outraged?”
“If she’s a witch, then I would hope she’s on our side?” he offered.
“I can’t believe it,” I said, seething. “She hid from us this whole time.”
“You can’t blame her for that. We live in troubled times. It’s been this way our whole lives when you think of it. For centuries even. Growin’ up and havin’ to keep what you are a secret? That would have to sew some seeds of mutual distrust, don’t you think?”
My shoulders sank, and I rolled my eyes. “Why do you have to be so wise?”
“Someone has to be calm and level headed.”
I slapped him on the arm, and he laughed, moving out of range.
“What happened? Did she say why she hid what she is?” he asked once I’d calmed down.
I shrugged. “I’m more worried why she took a job at Irish Moon in the first place.”
“Why did she?”
“Stuffed if I know. She spoke about me like I’m the messiah who has to do this all on my own or else!” I felt like stomping my foot on the ground. “Where does it say I have to fight Carman solo in the witchy handbook? Robert O’Keeffe—wherever he’s slunk off to—never mentioned there was fine print when he zapped me with that golden pen of his!”
“He’s a leprechaun—I think—so he’s only concerned with things that directly affect him.”
“Typical male.”
Boone laughed and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. This Lucy thing was rather alarming, and his reaction hadn’t soothed me at all. He was so calm and collected about life-threatening events it drove me up the wall. He was the same when the craglorn came looking for a snack.
“She said the witches are pissed that the Crescents didn’t die out with Aileen. Why would they say that?” I felt a wave of tears welling in my eyes. “It’s the prophecy. My blood can bring Carman back to Ireland.”
“But it can also stop her. Don’t forget that. It sounds like Lucy’s fear is talkin’.”
“I don’t trust her.”
“Then don’t trust her,” Boone shot back. “But don’t make her out to be a villain until you know for sure. Fear can do strange things to people.”
“I didn’t tell her about you.”
“Good, I suppose. But if she’s a witch, then she might already sense somethin’ off about me.”
“Really? Is that why I can feel your aura?” I lifted my hands into the air and felt the space around him. If anyone were watching us, they would be scratching their head right about now. “That’s not a sexual magnetism thing?”
“Nay,” he said with a chuckle. “More like animal magnetism.”
Phee barked, starting to get bored waiting for us, and sat at Boone’s feet.
“Play it safe,” he went on, scratching the border collie behind the ears. “Figure her out, but don’t get too close. She might be able to help you with your magic. You’ve been complainin’ about not knowin’ any other witches.”
“I’m still outraged.” I pouted.
“You wouldn’t be Skye if you weren’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, I have to make a break for it before you realize I’m pullin’ your leg.” He took off across the field at a run, Phee barking happily as she chased him.
“Hey!” I called out. “Don’t you run away from me!”
Chapter 13
The next day, Lucy didn’t come back.
Opening the shop, I sat behind the counter, mentally preparing myself for a day manning the trenches on my own. Taking out the tarot cards, I shuffled, staring out the window at the murky day beyond.
A misty rain was falling, the kind of rain that blew in all directions and
was so fine it did nothing but annoy the shite out of everyone it touched.
The bell above the door rang merrily as Boone appeared. He stamped his feet on the mat inside the door and was an inch away from shaking himself off like he was in his fox form when I held up my finger.
“Don’t think about it!”
He smirked and crossed the shop, his coat all dewy with itty-bitty droplets of rain.
“She didn’t show up?” he asked, leaning on the counter.
“No, she’s over there with her invisibility cloak on.”
“Ah, the rain’s gettin’ to you too, huh?” He smiled and rubbed his hand over mine, then gestured to the tarot cards. “Have you drawn a card?”
“No. Not for a while,” I replied. “I’m not sure I can handle another ominous warning.”
“It might be good.”
Boone was trying to cheer me up, but I was so deep in the doldrums I couldn’t see a way out. Everything seemed so pointless. The fight, the whole destiny thing, even learning how to use my magic felt like a waste of time.
“The thing is, I know trouble is coming. It’s always looming, you know? I don’t even know how Aileen put up with it, not knowing when or where it might strike. Pretending to care about a world that didn’t care about her.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” he murmured. “It’s not about bein’ liked.”
“Then what is it about?”
“Sometimes, you need to be somethin’ people hate in order to save them,” he said.
“I’m not sure I can be that person,” I muttered. “I want people to like me, Boone. I want to belong.”
He smiled but didn’t give me the reply I knew was coming. Sometimes, we don’t get to belong, even though we long for it.
“Will you draw a card?” he asked.
I shuffled the deck once more, tempted to see what message was waiting for me, but I ended up setting the cards back into their box. If the Three of Swords showed up again, I might’ve spontaneously combusted.
“No,” I said, putting the box under the counter. “I’m not strong enough for that today. Maybe tomorrow.”
Outside, a white flash streaked past the window, signaling the arrival of the first bus for the day.
Crescent Prophecy Page 10
