by A. C. James
“Did you hear me, mate?”
“What?”
“I said what do you make of it?” Tomas asked, nodding toward the priest’s table.
“I’m not sure.”
His stallion picked up on bits and pieces of their conversation, but even with his acute hearing it was hard to make out the details with all the voices and laughter that filled the pub. Púca. It didn’t make sense. Were they talking about them? Had he heard the priest right? Niall had thought the priest had something to do with the veil from the moment he’d spotted him outside the pub. And now the one with hair like honey and shapely curves had something to do with it, too. He had to get close to her and find out what this meant. Yes, get close to her. We want her to ride us. Niall silenced his stallion. Inconvenient beast. Now was not the time to let his stallion’s desire to bed her get in the way of discovering why the veil had lifted.
“But we should stick around and find out,” Niall said.
Niall didn’t notice the bartender approach.
“Can I get you two more whiskey?” she asked.
“Aye,” Tomas said. “You don’t happen to know those two talking to the priest?”
She looked a little miffed at his question, which she clearly took to mean Tomas was interested in one of the women. “That one over there…” The bartender pointed to the woman that had Niall’s stallion ready to mate, even if he wasn’t. “…is here to investigate you.”
The bartender was summoned by a man seated at the other end of the bar, and left to serve him. Niall watched the honey-haired woman with even greater interest. This definitely had something to do with the veil’s disturbance. He didn’t know what, but if she was here to investigate him then maybe he should give her what she’d come for. Just then she looked up and met his eyes across the bar. He wasn’t sure why, but couldn’t help grinning at her. Must be his stallion. Her cheeks were flushed. His nostrils flared. Shite. This is going to be harder than I thought. His stallion could smell her desire. And he coughed, because he noticed something else had grown hard, too. She ignored him and said something to the priest instead. Niall frowned. He didn’t know why it bothered him that she disregarded the hunger his stallion had clearly awakened. Another woman joined their table, and they talked for a few minutes. Then both the priest and the woman who’d joined them got up and left, the priest stopping to talk to the man who’d summoned the bartender for a drink a few minutes ago. Then he walked past where he and Tomas were seated on his way out of the pub.
“You should go talk to her,” Tomas said.
“Aye, we shall. If she’s here to investigate us, then let’s give her what she wants.”
His stallion pranced in agreement.
Tomas chuckled. “Your stallion is what she wants. I could smell her from here and I don’t think it was me she was looking at.”
Niall grinned. “You caught a whiff of that, too.”
“Aye, maybe you’ve found a mate in that one.”
Niall groaned. His stallion had wanted her from the moment she walked into the pub, but it didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want a mate, and he didn’t know if she had something to do with the veil. But that didn’t seem to convince his stallion, who suddenly perked up. She was staring straight at him. Go to her. He grinned.
“There’s no denying there’s something that lass sees in you, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what,” Tomas ribbed. “And I think your stallion is in agreement.”
Niall laughed. Talk to her. His stallion gave him a swift kick. He tossed back another shot of whiskey and headed toward her table.
Chapter 9
Felicity could feel the heat creep into her face. Damn. This time he’d caught her staring, and she wanted to crawl under the bloody table. The one sitting next to him said something and he laughed. Then he slung back a shot and was heading straight toward her. And his friend was too.
“Crap,” she murmured.
“What’s with you?” Cyn asked before she noticed the two men walking toward their table. “Oh, my. And isn’t he someone I’d like to bang.”
“Which one?” Felicity asked sarcastically.
“They’re both hot and I’m not picky, but I think I like the tall one better,” Cyn said and nodded toward his mate, the one who’d made him laugh.
Honestly, the only thing Felicity was thinking as he walked toward them was that this guy could definitely hurt her. He was far too good-looking, and one night wouldn’t mean anything to him—but then again, she wasn’t ready for anything except one night. She’d let him chat her up so Cyn could get her hooks into his mate. God knows it had been far too long since she’d slept with anyone. It was still easier to write away the pain that William had inflicted and chase down hoaxes than put herself out there. Felicity wished she’d ordered that beer after all. A little liquid courage wouldn’t hurt.
“Can we join you?” he asked when he reached their table.
Oh, she was in trouble. There was no denying the chemistry firing between them. If that accent and the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled made her giddy, she’d come undone. Damn, he was dishy. He had brown hair a little longer than was respectable, and warm brown eyes with flecks of gold. Those flecks filled with laughter as his eyes locked with hers. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and she regretted it immediately. Even though it appeared that he’d shaved, the shadow of stubble lined his jaw.
“I’m Cyn,” her friend answered for her. “And this is my friend Felicity.”
“I’m Niall, and this is Tomas,” he said, but his eyes never left hers.
Niall and Tomas filled the seats that the priest and Jenna had vacated. Felicity had never been shy, far from it, but her heart hammered against her chest when Niall looked at her like she was the only woman in the pub that could hold his attention. She felt like such a silly little school girl. Blast! Why was her tongue tied, and why did she feel like such a bloody fool?
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, love,” Niall said. “What brings you to the island?”
“We’re on holiday,” Felicity lied.
No sense in telling him she blogged about supernatural phenomenon. He’d fall into a fit of laughter and then she really would be foolish.
“How about a drink, love?”
God, yes. But for the love of all that’s holy stop calling me love. Felicity was going to be a blubbering mess if he kept looking at her like that and talking all…all…Irish and whatnot.
“I’ll have a Tom Crean Irish Lager,” she said, trying not to sound nervous. Her mouth felt like sandpaper.
Niall grinned before he got up and went to the bar. The band that was setting up when she got there had started playing. Before long she couldn’t hear Tomas and Cyn over the fiddle, but from what she could tell it sounded like Tomas was asking her a bunch of questions. Most of them revolved around her family. She supposed he must really fancy her if he was taking the time to get to know her. She hated to say it, but Cyn would break his bloody heart.
Felicity couldn’t remember the last time her friend kept someone around for longer than a day or two. Three if she really liked a fellow. She’d always wondered if that wasn’t why Cyn had never slept with Nathan. Maybe Cyn made him off-limits because she wanted to keep him around and valued him as a friend too much to let sex ruin it. She moistened her lips as Niall made his way back to her with their drinks. He was someone she might want to keep around, if she wasn’t such a big, broken mess.
He sat their drinks on the table and took the seat across from her. “I thought I’d come over and say hello before you caught me staring, but then you started staring right back.” Niall took a swallow of his beer.
Felicity’s face burned. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“It’s all right, love. I don’t mind when a pretty girl is staring at me. Usually it’s not when they’re sitting with their priest, mind you, but I won’t hold that against you.”
He was laughing at her with his eyes. Yes, this one
would make her forget that she’d sworn off getting involved with someone for a good long while. Breathe. She was complicated, damaged, and the last thing she needed was to get mixed up with some local hottie who didn’t know better.
“He’s not my priest. I’m on holiday, remember. No, actually I brought Cyn with me because it’s her birthday, and I was just interviewing him for a story.” Oh, god. You’re rambling. She always did that when she got flustered.
It wasn’t like her to be so easily shaken, but he was looking at her like he could devour her and like she was some fascinating mystery that he needed to figure out. And when he looked at her like that, she wanted him to figure her out. Never mind that it was a very bad idea to let him get close. Besides, she’d come here to do a job. Felicity traced her finger over a knot in the wooden table. Anything was better than looking into those big brown eyes and letting him see how vulnerable she was.
Chapter 10
Niall had to admit she was cute when she fidgeted. She drew the outline of a knot in the table and his stallion wanted to draw her finger into his mouth. Taste the saltiness of her skin. Even though he didn’t care for the duty that had been thrust on him, his stallion didn’t have any issue with taking her as his mate.
Bloody hell. What was wrong with him? He needed to know she wasn’t a threat to the veil, and somehow he knew the priest had something to do with it. Niall urged his stallion to simmer down and tried to focus on learning more about this story she’d been sent here to write.
“Story?”
Felicity looked at him as if she was trying to figure out how much to tell him, and he really couldn’t blame her for doing the same thing he was. Niall admired her hesitation, because he was a stranger to her. While his stallion wanted to take her for a ride, he wanted to know what this woman was about, to know if he could trust his stallion’s instincts.
“I’m a blogger, and I’m here to do a story about a local legend,” she said as she took a slow sip of her drink.
And you’re holding back.
“Something tells me there’s more to it than that.”
Felicity folded her hands. “You wouldn’t believe me.”
“Try me.”
The corner of her mouth rose in a sexy half-smile, and he could only imagine what she was thinking. We like her. He ignored his stallion, who seemed to grow more enraptured with her by the minute.
“Do you believe there are some things in this world that can’t be explained?”
Niall raised his eyebrow. Something in her voice told him she wasn’t entirely sure of herself. “Aye, I do. The better question is whether you believe it.”
“It’s my job to remain sceptical and not jump to conclusions. I look for evidence, and I go where it leads me. My job is to report only the facts. I’ve learned there are very few things that can’t be explained. I believe what I see. And that doesn’t mean some photograph that may have been tampered with, but what I can see right in front of me. Concrete evidence.” She took another sip of beer.
“And what kind of evidence are you looking for?”
“This town is supposedly haunted. I just need to prove whether or not it’s true.”
“Haunted by what? Ghosts?” He would enjoy teasing her.
“Púca.”
Tomas coughed. “I’m going to walk Miss Becket back to Pier House.”
-You’re going to find out if she knows anything, right?-
-Aye, I’ll question her and see if I can find out more about the priest while you take that one.-
Tomas gave him a curt nod that promptly ended their telepathic transference.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Cyn said with a wink.
The two of them left the pub—too bad for her that Tomas was taken. He would be thorough in questioning her, but he’d never cheat on his mate. Divide and conquer. That was perfectly fine with his stallion, who wanted Felicity all to himself. Blasted beast! But Felicity stiffened as her friend left. He couldn’t tell whether she was upset her friend had gone with Tomas or if she was suddenly uncomfortable at being alone with him.
“She’ll be all right, love,” Niall said. “He’s my best mate and I’ve known him all my life. Trust me, she’s in good hands.”
Felicity laughed. “It’s not her I’m worried about.”
“What are you worried about?” He searched her eyes for an answer, but his stallion could see how skittish she was around him.
“Cyn likes to have a bit of fun, but that’s all it is and I’d feel bad for your mate if he’s looking for more. I bloody love her, but that’s her MO,” Felicity said, as she took another sip of her drink.
She looked ready to bolt now that it was just the two of them. And he couldn’t deny that even he felt the spark that ignited between them.
“Why were you staring at me?” Her voice was almost a whisper.
He could hardly tell her, but he’d start with a small truth. “You’re beautiful. You light up the room, love.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
She looked away. His stallion wanted to protect her and make sure she never looked away from them again. She was sad, scared, and she was ready to run. Someone had hurt her, badly. Her expression darkened, but even if he hadn’t seen it he’d have known anyway. His stallion could sense the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface.
“Cyn lights up the room,” Felicity said quietly.
“Not for me.”
“I should go. I have to be up early and meet with the priest tomorrow.”
His stallion wanted to comfort her, so he’d try cheering her up instead. Niall grinned. “Aye, well at least let me walk you back. If there is a púca haunting the place, then you shouldn’t be walking alone.”
Felicity smiled. “So you were paying attention. And you’re not going to ask me what they are?”
“Nah, I’ll let you describe the noble beasts you’re so determined to write about,” he teased. “Let me pay our tab and you can tell me on the way.”
She hadn’t agreed to let him walk her back yet, so he didn’t give her an opportunity to object. Before she could say no, he went to the bar and paid the bill. When he glanced back at the table she looked a little more relaxed. He didn’t know why his stallion wanted to make her stay, to be his mate, when he had never wanted to be tied down…let alone for the rest of his life. But Niall admitted he would love to see her laugh. He warred with his stallion’s desire to kiss her senseless, bed her, and take her beyond the veil to have the sacred mating ceremony performed at once.
He’d heard this instinctual urge to mate when you found a human able to bear púca offspring could be intoxicating. Niall rationalized that that was all it was. Had to be a mating frenzy. He wouldn’t believe it possible that he’d found his one true mate. All of that was merely happy horse shite. He’d found someone capable of bearing his offspring, and his stallion was reacting to her fertile scent, nothing more. His stallion huffed. Niall walked back to the table. He’d be a gentleman, walk her back, and make sure his stallion kept his hooves off her. He could do that. Right?
“Shall I walk you back to Pier House, love?” But it wasn’t a question.
He watched her war with herself, an internal battle, and it looked like the part of her that wanted him won. His stallion could smell her attraction like a heady perfume that drove his beast wild. Niall could also sense that she was nervous, but he wanted to prove that she could trust him. He wouldn’t think about why that was so important to him.
“I’ll walk with you,” she said.
“Aye, reckon that’s a good idea. Wouldn’t want a púca to run off with you.”
She showed him that sexy half-smile again as they left Tí Joe Watty’s. The brisk evening air was a relief from the warmth of the crowded pub. Felicity was quiet on the walk back. He’d welcome the silence if it was a comfortable one, but he could tell she was lost in thought.
“So tell me more about this story you’re writing,” he as
ked.
“Not much to tell yet, but we got a tip from someone on the island that there was a rather mischievous púca causing quite a bit of trouble. My boss sent me here to investigate a photograph that was taken.”
Niall narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t happy they had a picture. “Can I see it?”
Felicity slowed her pace and pulled the photo out of her coat pocket. “You can’t see the púca very clearly. The picture is probably a fake. They’re almost always fakes.”
The picture was clear to Niall, whose vision was far better than that of a human. The guard posted at the North Tower and the looming stone structure were clear as day. And he was pretty sure the púca in the picture was Tomas.
He gave her back the photo. “Aye, it must be a fake.”
“Right.” She stuffed the photo back in her pocket.
“Then why write about it?”
“I suppose I’ve always been curious. I never imagined using journalism to blog about strange cases, but it’s fascinating and I get to travel. My job just sort of happened by accident.”
“Aye, what I meant is if it’s fake, if it’s not real, then why write it?”
Felicity laughed. “Our blog readers love the story, even if we discover it’s a hoax. They like to watch how it unfolds.”
“So you like working for…where did you say you work again?”
“Everyday Supernatural. It’s an online blog.”
“Online?”
She looked puzzled when he asked that. Shite. He really should have had the bartender fill him in a little better on all the things he’d missed in the past fifty years.
“Sorry, I meant the Internet. I was actually surprised they have Wi-Fi on the island.”
