In order to save a boy no one else believes exists, Hannah Glass is willing to do almost anything.
Hannah Glass has a pretty fantastic life and she knows it. Both of her dads are awesome, she’s a human in a pack of werewolves, and her best friend is a werewolf, too. But her ability to see the werewolves as they really are has always unsettled some of the members of her pack. And ever since she was nine she hasn’t been able to let go of the idea that there is a little boy out there somewhere that needs her help.
When she receives a mysterious message telling her to stop looking for him, it only further fuels Hannah’s need to save him. But her alpha has already gone off on enough wild goose chases to rescue him and people are starting to doubt he ever existed in the first place.
To prove them all wrong and save him, Hannah will leave everything she knows behind to go on one wild adventure that will change her life forever.
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Irish Magic
Copyright © 2014 Caitlin Ricci
ISBN: 978-1-77111-919-1
Cover art by Carmen Waters
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Devine Destinies
An imprint of eXtasy Books
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www.devinedestinies.com
Irish Magic
Song of the Sea 1
By
Caitlin Ricci
Dedication
Welcome to the world of Pine Hollow, a place where werewolves make great friends, and the best fathers too. This is the first book in my new trilogy and it has been a long time coming. I hope you enjoy getting to know Hannah and her best friend, Ippy, through these books. This story does begin a bisexual polyamory relationship between three teenagers. This is a dynamic I have been wanting to write about for a while now and I am grateful that Devine Destinies took the chance on this story and the less traditional side of love within it. Here you’ll find adventure, family, acceptance, best friends, and love. But most of all, dear reader, I hope that you enjoy your time in this world.
Prologue
“Come along honey,” her dad said as he gave a light tug on the hand he held in his. Nine-year-old Hannah Glass nodded and took a step forward. The train was coming; she could smell the smoke in the air as the rest of the passengers crowded in around her. Daddy Liam shielded her from the other side, making sure no one got too close. She liked that about him, that he was always protecting her. Between both of them, she knew she was safe on the platform. She looked up at the sign above her head, then across the few faces of the people that she could see and frowned.
“What’s that?” she asked them.
“It’s a sign that says where we are and where we’re going. See?” Liam bent to show her a slip of paper with writing on it. “We’re in Dunmore. And we’re trying to get to Newport. This train will take us there.”
“I know where we are, Daddy Liam,” Hannah said quickly. She rolled her eyes, though she knew better. “I don’t know what that is.” Not wanting to let go of their hands, she nodded to the little boy in the oversized sweatshirt. He was down the platform from them, but he looked so weird. “He’s strange,” Hannah said aloud.
“Hannah Glass, you do not call people strange,” Daddy Liam said sternly.
She nodded. The wolf inside of him had been a fuzzy haze, but had quickly snapped into focus with his anger. “I’m sorry, Daddy Liam,” she said quietly. She wasn’t afraid of his wolf. Not one little bit. But sometimes he was too bright to look at. Like when her daddies told her not to look at the sun because it could hurt her eyes. But she still liked to look anyway.
She kept looking at the little boy, even as she swung her daddies’ hands in hers. He did look strange. She knew that she wasn’t supposed to think that and that saying it again would get her in trouble with Daddy Liam. But there was really something wrong with him. And it bugged her.
“Daddy Liam, I know I’m bad for saying it. But he’s odd,” she said as quietly as she could while she watched him. There was an old man with him the same age as her daddies, but the little boy didn’t look like he loved him like she loved her daddies. He looked mean, and the little boy wasn’t looking at him.
“Hannah, I’m not going to tell you again,” Daddy Liam warned. “You can’t call people names. It’s wrong. Now stop it.”
She shook off their hands to be able to point to him as hot, frustrated tears burned her eyes. “But, Daddy Liam! His fur is hurt!”
“His what?” her dad asked, clearly startled by what she’d said.
For a moment she wondered why she hadn’t just started with that. But then Daddy Liam was looking down at her, his bright blue eyes staring at her, and she was sorry for making him worry. Because he did look like it. A lot. He looked to the crowd and she waited for him to find the little boy, to go rescue him for her because she was too little to do it and they’d told her not to go off on her own.
“Hannah, I don’t see anyone,” Daddy Liam said after a few minutes of looking while she continued to stare up at him, hoping that he could see the little boy, too. She stared at him so hard that her eyes began to hurt. She couldn’t believe he’d given up—he hadn’t tried hard enough. She knew that he was out there and Daddy Liam would find him if only he really went looking for him.
Her dads were talking and she tried to listen, but all she could think about was the little boy and how scared he’d looked. She cried on the train ride home.
Chapter One
Six Years Later
Hannah turned over in bed and groaned. She was awake. Of course she was. Her alarm clock could stop crowing at her now, please and thank you. Here dads, though, had a funny sense of humor and had bought her one of the ones that she had to shoot with a laser to get it to turn off. She got right on that, eager to get the noise to stop as she hunted for the plastic gun that would silence it. It was hidden under her jeans from the day before.
“Hannah, time for school,” Daddy Liam called to her from the landing outside her door.
She shot the laser into the little target and welcomed the perfect silence that came with the absence of the alarm. “I know. I’m up.” The kids in the TV shows she watched didn’t like school. She pitied them, since she actually did. Though that might be because she went to a werewolf school and had werewolves as classmates.
Hannah showered and dressed quickly, having laid out her clothes the night before like her dad had insisted she do. Otherwise she would have been late, which she absolutely couldn’t do since her best friend Ippy wouldn’t hear of it. He was a bit picky like that.
The doorbell rang while she was lacing up her sneakers. She could hear her dads talking downstairs and rushed to grab her messenger bag and a hair tie before running out of her room and down the steps. “I’m here!” she announced, grinning at her best friend as he stood in their brightly light entr
y room.
You’re late. You said that you would be outside and you weren’t. So you’re late, Ippy replied.
Her dad must have been able to tell they were talking in her mind because he asked her, “What’d he say?”
“That I’m late,” Hannah replied automatically. They’d had this talk a few years back about how when Ippy said something she would share it with them to keep them in the conversation. She usually tried to remember to do it, but not everything was about her dads. They were just trying to keep her safe. She knew this. But damn, she was old enough to figure out that Ippy wasn’t some crazy murderer.
Her dad’s face pinched. She knew that look and quickly waved him off. He didn’t understand Ippy like she did. The teacher called him autistic. But to her, he was simply her Ippy. “Here, both of you eat a bagel,” Daddy Liam said, handing them both one in a small bag as he came around the corner and out of the kitchen.
Hannah smiled at him, gave both of her dads a hug and then left with Ippy in tow. The short walk to their alpha’s house was better with him next to her as they both pulled out their bagels and started eating. “Did you do the homework?” Hannah asked him around a mouthful of peanut butter and cream cheese goodness.
It was assigned.
She nodded, expecting that answer. Of course he did it. “Good job. I had trouble with the math. I’m not very good at it.”
Ippy took a small bite of his bagel, much smaller than the ravenous mouthful she had taken. I don’t like homework.
Hannah giggled. “I don’t think anyone does. How’s the bagel?”
He looked down at it, his too bright eyes shining in the early morning light. I taste something spicy. But sweet.
Hannah leaned over him to smell it and nodded. “My dad got some jalapeno jelly at the store yesterday. Do you like it?”
Yes.
Hannah knew that getting him to say that much about his food preferences was a pretty big deal. Her dads had taken to trying to get Ippy to try something new each time he was at their house, which was pretty much every day. Maybe they hoped Ippy would ask for something if they found a food he liked well enough. He hadn’t in the eleven years she’d known him, but she guessed they could still hope.
Walking to school took a while, but she didn’t mind. She liked the fall air, the crisp chill on the breeze and the brightly colored leaves that crunched under her sneakers. And Ippy didn’t like riding in cars unless he had to, so there was that, too.
“Hey, Ippy, can I hold your hand while we walk?” she asked him as they turned onto another street and passed by the park that was only a short walk from her house.
How come?
Hannah shrugged. “Because I want to? Because you’re my friend?” Some people might have thought that Ippy asking her that was weird or maybe even rude. They’d have gotten punched by her. He didn’t like being touched, not by her or anyone else, but he’d allow some people to do it if they asked. She liked that about him. Liked that he had boundaries. And that he knew what he wanted and could ask for it.
Too much of the time she felt like she had to be nice to people she didn’t really like for the sake of the pack. Being the daughter of the man that had the honor of being third in the pack was sometimes hard. She’d been told that it might be at times. But sometimes she wished she wasn’t in that place. She’d never wish to change being Liam and Travis’ daughter. But maybe not being in the pack for a bit would be nice. Sometimes. Maybe. She frowned, wishing those thoughts away. She loved her pack. Really she did. They were her family. And without the pack she wouldn’t have Ippy as her best friend or a whole lot of uncles and one kick ass aunt. But every once in a while she envied Ippy’s ability to flat out tell someone that he didn’t want to do something. He wasn’t trying to do it to hurt their feelings—she didn’t even know if he’d understand something like that. There was no pretending with him. If he didn’t want to hang out, he said so. If he wanted to see a movie, he told her so. Not in the way other kids her age did, but in his own way, and that was what made it even better.
She smiled at him as he held up his hand for her to take. He didn’t reach for her hand, but he allowed her to take his. Ippy had his own way of communicating with her and the rest of the world. Sure, most of it was written down or said through her since he didn’t talk to anyone else out loud, but she didn’t mind. They’d been together for the past eleven years, ever since her first day of pre-kindergarten when he had come in with his mom. He’d been two at the time and his hair had been just as wild back then as it was today. The only difference was the length.
I can feel my wolf today.
Hannah’s heart sped up and she squinted to see if she could see the shadowy haze of his wolf, too. Sort of. There might be ears coming from his head and a long, shadowy nose could be there. She wasn’t completely sure she wasn’t simply imagining it though. “That’s great, Ippy,” she said, encouraging him with a small squeeze of her hand.
Can you see him?
Some people might have told him yes, of course they could. Polite conversation said that she should. These white lies that society allowed were complete BS though, as far as she was concerned, and Ippy wouldn’t have had it. Lying was a big thing to him, so she told him the truth. “Maybe a little. I can’t really tell. But I’m glad you can feel him. Samson said that would happen soon.” She smiled at him again, hoping he would return the gesture, but knowing it was unlikely. Sometimes he did, when he was very happy, but it wasn’t often and she didn’t let it get to her. Maybe she had, once, but that was years ago.
When she was six, she’d picked up a book on autism from the bookstore Daddy Liam liked to take her to. He’d had to read it to her, since the book wasn’t for kids. They’d joked about making a book on autism for kids so that people her age could understand it a little more. But now that she was fifteen, she had no trouble reading the book and had, in fact, read it multiple times. It helped to refer to on the rare occasions Ippy’s behavior bothered her. Reading it put his behavior in perspective.
Like when she was twelve and wanted to take him to an outdoor concert in the park. He didn’t want to go and she thought he didn’t want to go with her. But really he just didn’t want to go. She asked him if he wanted to get ice cream instead and he said yes to that. Problem solved. She swung their hands together between them.
“It’s getting colder,” she said softly as she looked up at the trees. Some of them still had leaves on them, but it was nearly Halloween and most of the trees were naked and shivering in the breeze.
Colder is relative.
Hannah snorted in her laughter. “Yes, it is. So is it colder than it was this time yesterday?”
He stopped and pulled out his phone to check the weather while she waited. By three degrees. Do you know what makes it colder? Ippy asked her.
Hannah shook her head and tried not to step on a bug on the sidewalk as they started walking again. A few kids played in the park beside them. They didn’t go to school until later, she knew, because she saw their bus pull up every day when they were nearly at Samson’s house for school. She’d never gone to public school and didn’t think she’d like it much. Too many people, and Ippy would never be able to go. He couldn’t handle their little class of eight sometimes. He’d never be able to deal with a large class like she saw in the movies. She didn’t blame him.
You didn’t say anything.
She blushed. “Sorry, Ippy. No, I don’t know what makes it colder. Will you tell me?” Facial expressions and gestures were hard for him. Sometimes, not all the time. But she had to remember that.
Cold fronts.
She expected him to say more since weather was currently his thing, but when he didn’t she said, “That makes sense. Thank you.” She took the last bite of the bagel, then fixed her scarf as they got to the recycle can in the park where she could throw out her baggie. After years of holding hands with him whenever she could, doing things one handed had become
nearly second nature. “Think Mrs. Marsden will have us read anything new?” she asked him.
I can’t say. I don’t know her lesson plans.
Hannah smiled and took the bag he handed her before they got past the can. “I don’t think I can read the same old books again. Just once I wish she’d let us read whatever we wanted to. Samson and Christopher have a great library. I doubt they’d mind us picking through their books.”
I like Christopher. He makes cookies.
Hannah giggled. “Yes he does. Maybe he’ll be there today and we can get him to make us some during break. He likes cooking for us. Or, at least he doesn’t mind so much.”
They turned onto Samson and Christopher’s street and Hannah looked down at their entwined hands. She liked holding his hand, liked having a physical connection with him. But she knew some of the kids in the class made fun of them. They wouldn’t do it to her face—she was the daughter of the third in the pack after all—but she couldn’t always be there to protect Ippy. “Do you want me to let go of your hand?” It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she wouldn’t mind. But that wasn’t the truth. She didn’t want to let go. She’d rather hold his hand most of the day. It made her feel special that he’d allow physical contact with her. Even his parents sometimes got denied for hugs. She didn’t ask for them all that often, but he hadn’t said no to her yet.
Ippy looked down at their hands, too, as they stopped on the sidewalk. My finger is being crushed by your ring.
Her cheeks flamed instantly and she pulled her hand back, quickly switching the small silver ring on her middle finger to the other hand. “Jeez. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” She held her hand out again, knowing he might not take it. But he did and she smiled at him. “Thanks.”
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