Ride: Felicity and Niall: Episodes 1-4 (Puca Mates Collection)

by A. C. James

  If she comes around, his stallion huffed. It’d be better to mate her according to our customs.

  He silenced the beast.

  He’d suggested working together because he wanted to win her trust and show her he had nothing to do with what was happening on the island. The veil between their worlds was thinning, but the complication had brought him his true mate.

  Maité soul.

  He’d never believed in the legend, and now he couldn’t imagine not having her by his side. Telling her everything was a risk he’d had to take.

  Niall walked into the foyer. He and Maelíosa had always been close, probably because they were twins. Even though he trusted his father not to give Maelíosa to her promised mate, Niall wanted to make sure she was all right. Stubborn though she might be, his sister was a highly complex female whom he’d never quite understood. Tough as nails on the outside and soft-hearted at her core.

  He stood in front of the intercommunication portal’s watery reflection. “Beannachtaí mo chara… Maelíosa.”

  His sister appeared on the other side. She scowled. “Would you put a bloody shirt on already?”

  “Sorry. It was raining after I walked Felicity back to Pier House. It’s drying by the fire.”

  She crossed her arms. “You’re always walking around half-naked. Shifter or not, you’re my brother, and it’s disgusting.”

  “I’ll just grab another.” He went to the wardrobe in his bedroom and pulled a sweatshirt over his head before returning to his sister.

  She grinned. “Much better.”

  “You’re a real pain in me arse,” he said affectionately. It had always been like this with Maelíosa—irritating and playful—but he loved her with every fibre of his being.

  “You’d be really bored without me riding your arse,” Maelíosa said, putting her hands on her hips.

  Niall grinned. “I don’t doubt it.”

  “Felicity is the one you’ve chosen.” It wasn’t a question.

  “If she’s willing and can accept it,” he said.

  Maelíosa nodded. “She’s very bonny.”

  “Aye, she is. She’s also my true mate,” Niall said, quietly.

  Her eyes widened. “I thought you didn’t believe in the legend. And I never imagined I’d see my brother mated, let alone that you’d find your maité soul.” A huge smile spread across her lips.

  “I’ve never met anyone quite like her,” he admitted.

  “I want to meet her in the flesh.”

  “I’m hoping you will. If she agrees to be with me after all this is over, I’ll cross the veil and bring her before our sire.”

  Maelíosa shook her head. “Then I’ll come to you. I want to meet the woman who finally turned my brother’s eye.”

  Her approval was important, and not just to him. If his sister accepted her, then Felicity’s acceptance into the clan would be easier. The rest of the female púca would follow suit. But with the uncertainty surrounding the construction site and everything going on, Niall wasn’t willing to put his sister in harm’s way.

  “You mustn’t cross the veil. It’s not safe. Not until I know more.”

  “I know how to handle myself.” She toyed with the sheathed dagger at her waist before placing her hand back on her hip.

  “Aye, I know ye do. But I don’t need to worry about you on top of everything else.”

  Maelíosa tapped a finger on her tunic-covered hip, looking as if she was going to argue with him about it. “You do realize she’s going to have to meet the clan.”

  “If she’ll have me as a mate, she will. Eventually.”

  She dropped her hands, and Niall let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His sister was incredibly stubborn. She got it from their mother. He and Maelíosa had both had a chance to know their mother, though Darcy hadn’t. She’d been the only one who could put Fallon in his place. He imagined Maelíosa had a bit of that effect on their father, too. Otherwise she’d be mated to that piss-poor excuse for a stallion.

  “All right. But meeting me will ensure the other female púca-shifters will accept her mating with you. You’re one of the more prominent members of our clan. They may try to challenge her, as is their right. You know this is true.”

  His position as the chieftain’s son meant that any female in the clan could challenge the mate he selected. His father faced the same predicament if he ever decided to bond with another. If another female púca-shifter won, then what he wanted wouldn’t matter.

  Niall ran a hand through his hair. “Aye, you’re right. I’ll see to it when the time comes, but I still need to make sure the veil is shrouded. Protecting our people comes first.”

  “Have you had much luck finding out what’s going on?” Maelíosa asked.

  “The islanders have voiced rumours about a púca haunting. Everything revolves around a resort that’s being built on the ocean side of the island. The families who’ve been here since the very beginning know our history, which has become folklore to them…but now they believe. And it has something to do with the construction site. It’s the only answer.”

  Maelíosa nodded. “And you’re trying to find out what started these rumours?”

  “Aye, knowing the source can help us quell them and restore the veil.”

  “I wish I could help you. I’d love to nose around that site.”

  Niall frowned. “You said you’d stay put…”

  “Fine,” she said, and then paused. “I never thanked you.”

  Maelíosa’s image flickered in the portal.

  “For what?”

  “You didn’t have to take a mate. You did this for me. I wanted to meet her and make sure she makes you happy,” she said quietly.

  Maelíosa was never good at expressing her true feelings. She was in your face or riding your arse most of the time, but deep down his sister had a softer side. Her admission nearly shook his resolve. He’d love for her to meet his true mate, but it simply wasn’t safe. She was the chieftain’s eldest daughter and their father would have his head if something happened.

  “She does make me happy. But I’ll be back soon. I promise you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. That’s enough sappy shite. Goodbye, Niall.”

  Now that was the Maelíosa he knew and loved.

  “Dea-fhortún agus tairiscint mé tú slán.”

  And the portal was a mirror once more.

  Chapter 6

  Felicity paused her fingers on the laptop’s keyboard. She was posting an update on the blog about her investigation, but of course, it was all a bald-faced lie. Sighing, she questioned her journalistic integrity, knowing this was because she cared about Niall a lot more than she wanted to admit, and she needed to believe he was telling her the truth. She was pretty sure he was, because he could’ve easily hidden what he was and wiped her mind of everything.

  She closed the laptop and then slipped into the pair of sandals tucked partially under the foot of her bed. She grabbed her purse before going downstairs and headed for Father Cleary’s house. Felicity breathed in the air as she made her way down the dirt road. Today was sunny and bright, contrasting with the stormy emotions swelling within her.

  The priest’s house was right behind a small stone church, and the brisk walk helped clear her head. She was kind of glad Cyn had slept in, since she’d teased poor Father Cleary when he’d welcomed them to the island. Felicity followed the flower-lined pathway that led to his home and knocked on the door.

  Father Cleary opened the door to greet her. “Aye, welcome. Come in and make yerself comfortable. Would you like some tea?”

  “That’d be grand,” she said as she followed the priest into a tiny kitchen.

  “Have a seat.” He gestured toward a metal table and chairs. “It’s nice to have company come for a chat.”

  “Thank you for seeing me, Father.”

  “Aye, the pleasure is all mine. Anything I can do to help you with your investigation. I’m sure you’re eager to
return to London.”

  Felicity nodded. “Yes, but I’ll be sticking around for the week.”

  “I hope you’re enjoying your stay on our island.”

  “The community is very welcoming. Everyone has been quite friendly.”

  Father Cleary nodded. “Aye, that it is.”

  She folded her hands on top of the table’s surface. Felicity’s thoughts wandered as he moved about the kitchen to make tea. His cottage was quaint, and he kept it neat. A large fireplace took up most of one wall. It wasn’t lit, but it was littered with ash. She imagined it was quite cosy to sit in the rocking chair and read one of the books from the stack that almost overflowed an end table overlooking the hearth.

  Father Cleary set two cups of tea on the table and took a seat across from her. “Now, what is it ye be wanting to know?”

  Felicity smiled. “You cut right to the chase, Father.”

  “Of course, if you’d rather craic about something else, but I see no sense in beating around the bush.”

  “Right, then. Where did the island legend about the púca come from?”

  He took a sip of his tea. “It’s a story passed down through the generations for as long as I can remember. I first heard it bouncing on my da’s knee when I was just a wee child. His father told him the story before that, and so on and so forth until the very beginning of our island’s history.”

  “And the islanders…do you think they truly believe it?”

  “Aye, especially farmers whose families have worked the land going back several generations.”

  Then it made sense that some islanders might believe it was true. Especially with the warning carved at the construction site and the worker with a head wound who’d burst through the pub door. Even the least superstitious of the bunch could be made to believe the rumours. Now she’d found out it was true, but she wasn’t about to tell Father Cleary. There had to be a reason someone wanted to get everyone on the island riled up—surely for their own advantage. She was determined to find out what it was.

  “Is there anyone else who’s had to give up land because of that resort being built?”

  “The church is being relocated and two small farms were bought out. It was all settled right and fair. No reason anyone should have a complaint.”

  Felicity pulled a small notepad and pen from her purse. “Which two farms?”

  “The McSharrys sold first, and the Tierneys shortly after.”

  She jotted down the names on her notepad. “And how did they feel about the resort being built?”

  “Both were given a right good offer, but it’s hard to say how they felt about it.”

  “Are they still on the island?”

  “The Tierneys moved to Galway, they have people there. But the McSharrys are still here.”

  Felicity wondered if the McSharrys were somehow involved. Maybe the offer they were given wasn’t good enough to give up family land. She could see the motive, but doubted their plan would deter Mr. Archer from building the resort. Not with time and money on the line. It’d probably take a lot more than a few missing tools, a warning, and a bloke with a busted head.

  “I’d like to talk to them,” Felicity said.

  “I’ll arrange a meeting then.”

  “That would be grand. Is there a historian or someone who could tell me the origins of the púca legend?”

  “If anyone could tell ye a thing or two, it’d be the bartender over at Tí Joe Watty’s. Her family has the deepest roots, and she knows the legend of the púca better than any other.”

  Felicity sipped her tea. “Thank you, Father. Perhaps I’ll pay her a visit.”

  She was supposed to meet Niall at noon for lunch at the pub anyway.

  Chapter 7

  Felicity walked over to Tí Joe Watty’s bar. A puffy white cat that reminded her of a cotton ball sat on a stone wall across from the pub and eyed her curiously as she approached. It probably belonged to one of the locals eating lunch. The door creaked as she opened it. The place was largely unoccupied, except for a handful of islanders. She settled in a stool at the untended bar, but she didn’t have long to wait.

  A twenty-something woman, maybe a few years younger than her, stepped out from a backroom to greet her. “How can I help you, Miss Forrest?”

  She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the woman made her slightly uneasy. “How do you know my name?”

  The woman laughed. “Everyone on the island knows who you are and why you’re here.”

  “Right, of course,” Felicity said, shaking her head. “Actually, I came here to see you. Father Cleary told me the bartender here would know the most about the island’s history and the legend of the púca.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper.

  “I’m Caitlin. It’s my aunt ye be looking for. She’s the bartender here. I’m just filling in.”

  “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

  “Sorry, I don’t. But I’ve learned quite a bit about the history from my aunt, and a lot about the legend. Maybe I can help you.”

  “That’d be grand. Could you tell me about the legend?”

  Caitlin cleared her throat. “The legend is very old. No one truly knows when it first began, but all the wee children are told the story. Some say the púca take the shape of goblins, dogs, or even eagles. They’ve become the proverbial bogeyman we use to keep our children from straying. But none of it’s true.”

  This was all readily available information that Felicity had researched in London when she’d prepared for her trip. But an unexplained chill ran down her spine when Caitlin claimed the folklore was false. The air of certainty in her voice made it seem as if she were talking from personal experience.

  “How do you know it’s not true?”

  “Let’s just say my family has been responsible for tracking their history. One day I’ll take my aunt’s place. It’s what I’ve been groomed for.”

  Felicity frowned. She wasn’t quite sure what Caitlin meant, and she was being a bit vague. She didn’t know whether that was deliberate or not, but it was bloody irritating. There was resentment in her voice when she talked about following in her aunt’s footsteps. “What? Is she the island historian or something?”

  “Aye, in a way, and she’s kept the legend a secret. It’s better if everyone believes the folklore.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s easier to understand than the truth,” Caitlin said as she wiped down the bar.

  Felicity’s breath hissed in. “What truth?”

  “The púca aren’t mythical creatures…they’re real. They’re an ancient race of shapeshifting horses. They taught our people how to farm on land that’s mostly limestone. They blessed our crops and married our daughters. Then organized religion came to our land and the world changed. Some say the púca took to the mountains and hills of Ireland’s mainland, never to be heard from again. That’s how the folklore began, but in truth, their world is cut off from ours.”

  “And you believe all this?” Felicity whispered.

  It was more for her than Felicity. She knew it was true without a doubt. She’d rode Niall in stallion form, twice. No amount of pinching herself could change that fact. But she was surprised to discover someone else knew the truth. And that she’d readily share the information with Felicity meant only one thing in her investigative brain—there had to be something in it for Caitlin.

  “This story has been in my family for generations. It’s hard not to believe it.” There was bitterness in Caitlin’s voice, but Felicity didn’t know why.

  “Do you think they’re responsible for the accidents at the construction site?”

  “I really couldn’t say, but I do know this…” Caitlin paused, “…you may want to speak to the priest’s brother Michael.”

  “What does he have to do with this?”

  “He’s married to Kelly Tierney, and she inherited the family farm. They turned the place around, fixed it up, and then had to sell out to Archer.”

  Why didn’t
Father Cleary tell me that?

  “You’re certain?”

  Caitlin looked smug. “Aye, and I’m betting Father Cleary left that little detail out.”

  Felicity’s eyes widened. “I think I’ll take that drink now.”

  “What can I get ye?”

  “Whiskey,” Felicity said.

  She never really cared for liquor, but it seemed fitting. Caitlin poured her a shot and left her to chew on this new bit of information. Father Cleary seemed like an honest man. It didn’t make any sense. If there was even a remote possibility his brother was behind this, then he wouldn’t bring a paranormal investigative blogger to the island, would he? Unless he hoped Felicity would come up with a supernatural reason for the threat and vandalism rather than the truth.

  A cool gust of air brushed against her back, and she turned to see Niall walk through the door. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt. He smiled when he saw her, and it warmed his brown eyes, with their glowing amber flecks.

  “Hello, love. Sorry I’m a little late.”

  “It’s all right,” she said as she hopped off the barstool.

  His smile faded at her expression. “What’s wrong?”

  She glanced down the bar, where Caitlin appeared to be chatting up another patron. Her bubbly smile and loud voice had the man laughing over a pint. Still, there was something about her demeanour that seemed off.

  “Let’s get a table. I’ve got something to tell you.”

  Chapter 8

  Niall steered Felicity toward a table in a quiet corner where they could have some privacy. His stallion had immediately taken a protective stance when he’d sensed Felicity’s confusion and distress. His beast had become even more deeply aligned with her emotions since he’d discovered she was his true mate.

  “Tell me, love, what’s wrong?”