by Ashlyn Chase
Shannon’s face was red and her expression livid. Then, as if she flicked a switch, she greeted them with a toothy smile. “Oh, did you have a nice time out there?” she asked with syrupy sweetness.
“It wasn’t too bad,” Rory said, carefully.
His youngest sister marched over to him, ripped the newspaper and logs out of his hands, and tossed them into the fire pit she had made with lava rocks.
Just as she ignited the paper with her breath, Chloe yelled, “Stop! That was our newspaper. We needed that to find jobs and such.”
Shannon’s jaw dropped. “Why didn’t you say something?”
Rory started laughing. Chloe had been leaning forward, probably to look menacing, then she reared back and burst out laughing too.
Shannon glared at them. “What’s gotten into you? You’re laughin’ like hyenas.”
Rory wiped the tears forming at the corners of his eyes and wrestled his mirth under control. “The newspaper was useless. It’s in Icelandic and every word is at least eleven letters long. We can’t read any of it.”
Shannon glared at her sister again. “Then why did you get upset?”
Now Chloe was wiping her eyes and trying to quit laughing—unsuccessfully.
“Oh, very funny.” Shannon folded her arms and mocked the two of them. “Let’s make our dear sister, who’s been keepin’ this bloody cave warm all day, think she’s done somethin’ terribly wrong when she hasn’t a’tall. How entertainin’ would that be?”
Chloe nodded. “Pretty entertainin’.” Then the two older siblings burst out laughing again.
Shannon strode outside the cave before she lost it and pummeled the two of them into kindling.
Rory came after her, carrying her parka and still chuckling. “We’re sorry, Shannon.”
“No, you’re not.”
Chloe followed. “Okay, we’re not terribly sorry, but you should have seen your face.”
Shannon shrugged into her new coat. “I’ve had about enough of you two. How can you laugh when we’re stuck in a land where we don’t know a soul and can’t even speak the language? Just how are we supposed to survive?”
Rory tugged on his jacket pocket. “Not to worry. I traded our boat for some magic beans.”
Chloe cracked up all over again.
“Knock it off!” Shannon yelled.
“Relax, Shannon.” Rory took his sister by the shoulders and turned her back toward the cave. As they walked together, he explained. “We were late gettin’ back because we sold some of the priceless antiquities that were on the boat. We found someone who spoke English, and he helped us. We were very fortunate. He gave us the name of a visiting billionaire whose appetite for rare antiques might turn our treasures into quite a pile of cash.”
“Then all we need to do is convert it into American dollars,” Chloe said. “The best part is that the man has a yacht and will have his crew take us to Boston.”
“Boston? What’s in Boston?” she asked.
“Apparently, a large Irish population,” Chloe said. “We can blend in. Plus we can speak, read, and write English. If we can’t get back to Ireland, it’s not a bad place to be.”
“But we must get back home,” Shannon insisted.
Rory balled his fists. “We will someday—when the leprechauns discover their mistake.”
“Since when have you known leprechauns to admit they made a mistake?” Shannon pointed out.
“One thing at a time,” Chloe said. “First we need a decent place to live. Then we can worry about gettin’ back into the little shites’ good graces.”
“Before that, I need to call Finn.”
“Uh. We tried callin’ the pub for you,” Rory said. “Somehow we’ve been blocked from even making phone calls to Ireland.”
“But we’ll keep tryin’,” Chloe said. “Let’s go check into a hotel, and we can try to email from there.”
Shannon fell silent.
There really wasn’t anything more to say. With magic keeping them out of Ireland, the dragons’ best hope was to find a decent place to operate from and to change the minds of those who cast the spells. If that place was Boston, then they needed to reach their temporary home quickly. Rory and his sister would come up with plans for revenge on the way. He was already thinking of a few ideas.
* * *
“I must be out of my mind,” Amber muttered.
A second before she rang Brandee’s doorbell, a tall, good-looking blond man opened the door. “You must be Amber,” he said in a whisper.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Sorry. I’m trying not to wake the baby.” He stuck his hand out. “Nick Wolfensen, Brandee’s other half.”
She shook his hand. “Is Brandee around?”
“She asked me to give you a message. She said the client she told you about just arrived and she won’t be able to leave the gallery for a while, but Bliss is expecting you at the Boston Uncommon Tearoom on Charles Street.”
“Oh. Bliss is there now?”
“Yes. Her best friend owns the place. They’re probably gabbing away.”
“I see. So if I walk back down the hill to Charles Street, is it a left or…”
“Go right. There’s a big teapot hanging from the sign. You can’t miss it. Oh! But before you go…” He retrieved a business card and handed it to her. “She wanted you to have this.”
Amber stared at the Beacon Street address on the card. “What’s this?”
“I understand you need an apartment. You have an appointment with the manager, Morgaine, at two o’clock.”
“Wait. How did you know?”
“Brandee didn’t say. Just trust me. If she’s sending you, there’s a good reason. She seems to know the future sometimes.”
As unsettling as that was, Amber said, “Okay. Great.”
“Have fun,” he said and smiled as he closed the door.
Uh, yeah. Fun. Crazy fun.
Amber headed down the hill, appreciating the gorgeous historic buildings and tree-lined cobblestone sidewalks. She wondered what it would be like to live in a pretty neighborhood like this. Her apartment building was situated among businesses and lacked any neighborhood feel at all.
When she reached Charles Street and traffic whizzed by, she felt as if she were reentering the city. The general vibe accelerated to its usual frantic pace. She had spent the previous evening scanning the real estate pages and getting depressed. Rents in this city were outrageous.
If the place on Beacon Street was as nice as most of the addresses in the area and reasonably priced, she’d snap it up. She checked her watch. Twelve thirty. Good. By keeping her schedule tight, she was allowing herself enough time to meet the modern muse, but she also had an excuse to leave if the muse tried to give her the hard sell.
She found the tearoom easily. Just as Nick had promised, a teapot dangled above the door. When she stepped in, the atmosphere was homey and lowered her stress level—slightly. She smelled baked goods and honey. The large front room held several tables with white linen tablecloths and happy diners. Mismatched bone china was set on the tables, but everything meshed in a cohesive design. Flickering candles helped illuminate the room, which added to the relaxing ambience.
A young woman with blond-highlighted hair greeted her. “Will you be having lunch?”
“I’m supposed to be meeting someone, but I’d love to order tea and a scone while I’m waiting.”
The hostess swiveled back toward the cash register where a very pregnant brunette was standing. “Is this the lady you’re looking for, Bliss?” she asked.
“Oh!” Amber said. “I probably should have asked for her by name since I was told… Never mind. Yes, I’m looking for her. I’m Amber,” she babbled.
The brunette’s smile and graceful walk, despite her advanced pregnancy, should have put Amber at
ease, but knowing she was meeting a minor goddess had her more on edge than she’d realized. She mentally rolled her eyes at herself. She had met Mother freakin’ Nature. Why should a minor goddess scare her?
Bliss surprised her with a warm hug…or as close as she could get to one.
“Nice to meet you, Amber. It’s funny…”
“What’s funny?”
“Your hair matches your name. It’s Amber.”
“Oh.” She chuckled. “Yes, I guess it does.”
“Let’s sit in the back.” Bliss hooked a hand around Amber’s elbow and swept her over to an empty table in an out-of-the-way back corner.
Now Amber was nervous again.
“There’s no need to be nervous,” Bliss said.
“How did you know… Oh, never mind. You probably know everything about me.”
Bliss raised her pretty, perfectly matched brows. “I know almost nothing about you. Here. Sit and make yourself comfortable. I heard you wanted tea and a scone. I’ll get us some. Any kind in particular?”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can wait.”
“I can’t. I’m starving,” Bliss said. “Besides, I used to work here. They think nothing of me going to the kitchen and serving myself.”
“Oh. Well, then, I’m not picky.”
“Okay. I’ll be back in a jiff.”
While the minor goddess was gone, Amber tried to mentally shake herself. A muse giving her a hug and waiting on her wasn’t at all what she’d expected, but how would she know what to expect? Try to relax, Amber. She felt like a pile of nerve endings, all crackling and snapping at the same time.
A few moments later, Bliss returned with a tray. She set two plates of blueberry scones and a pot of fragrant tea on the table between them.
Amber tried to appear nonchalant, which was sort of the opposite of how she felt. “So…”
Bliss smiled. “So I imagine you have some questions.”
Amber laughed nervously. “I do, but I don’t even know what they are yet. Thank you for taking the time to see me though.”
Bliss waved away the polite nonsense. “I was excited to hear that Brandee had someone to recommend for the job. Gaia has been nagging the… Well,” She lowered her voice and leaned closer. “I shouldn’t speak out of turn, but the Goddess of All isn’t very patient.”
Amber snorted. You think? “I’m glad I’m meeting you, because I was told you refused the muse job at first. Mother Nature said I’d regret it if I refused. Why is that? Did she do something awful to you?”
“Oh, heck no. She might sound threatening, but she’s a pussycat, not the monster she wants you to believe she is. But just FYI, you probably shouldn’t piss her off. She might whip up a blizzard just to prove a point.”
“But winter is over.”
“Exactly.”
“She can do that?”
“She’s Mother Nature. She can do pretty much anything she wants.”
“That’s frightening.”
“Tell me about it.”
Amber tried to get her heart rate under control again. “So is that why you refused?”
Bliss cringed sheepishly. “No. She doesn’t scare me—anymore. I guess I’m not the most forward-thinking person sometimes. My husband is a firefighter, and there’s a whole bunch more I can’t tell you about him. I’ll just say he had a bit of supernatural protection that kept him safe. When I was approached about the job, Gaia wanted me to be muse of the Internet.”
“The whole Internet?”
“Exactly. I told her it was impossible. Rather than do a half-assed job, I just flat-out refused.”
Amber took a sip of tea. “I can’t say I blame you.”
“Well, I hadn’t anticipated my husband giving up his immortality, but he begged Mother Nature to take it away. He refused to go on living for centuries after my death. While he was human, I had to worry about everything! His job fighting fires. His commute. Heck, he could have gotten the flu or slipped in the bathtub and drowned. It was intolerable, especially knowing I could change it.
“Finally, Gaia and I were able to come to a compromise. I would become the muse of email only. Drake took back his immortality when I received mine.” She looked down at her baby bump. “At least we were able to conceive while we were both human, so that much was worth the stress.”
Amber tried to sort it out. “So, it was more stressful being human?”
“Absolutely,” Bliss said.
“And your job?”
“I’m a greeting card designer,” Bliss said. “I still enjoy that, but when I get a psychic 911 that someone is about to send an obnoxious email, I can just excuse myself for a moment if there are humans around—run to the bathroom, then pop in behind the idiot and whisper, ‘You don’t want to send that yet.’ As soon as he or she decides to reword or just hit Delete, my job is done and I can go home.”
“But with all the email and all the, pardon me, idiots in the world, aren’t you flat-out busy all the time?”
Bliss laughed. “Brandee said I’d like you.” She shook her head and sipped her tea. “It’s not as bad as you’d think.”
“What about those who hit the Send button before you can stop them, or do it despite your best efforts?”
Bliss shrugged. “It happens. Then they learn from the consequences of their own actions. If a person is determined to self-destruct, they’ll find a way. No one can save everyone, especially from themselves.”
“Hmmm…” Amber had been thinking that failure wasn’t an option. But all that seemed to be required was her best effort. If that weren’t enough, it wouldn’t be her fault.
At that moment Gaia appeared in a chair that had been vacant a moment before. Everyone in the restaurant was frozen and silent.
Bliss muttered, “Uh-oh…”
Gaia rose and didn’t stop until she hovered a few inches above the floor. “Muse of email, are you out of your mind?”
“Uh…no. I may have made a tiny mistake, but I’m not insa—”
“Oh?” Gaia roared. “Tiny? Is that what you call it when you violate my number one edict?”
Amber hadn’t seen this side of the goddess, and her hand shook as she raised it. “Um… May I ask a question?”
Gaia paused, then said, “You’re right. You need to know what that rule is so you don’t accidentally screw up—unlike this one who knows better.” She pointed to Bliss with her thumb.
Can she read my mind? Now Amber was shaking visibly.
Gaia glared at Bliss. “Paranormals are not to reveal the paranormal world to humans without my permission. That means discussing supernatural business in public places. Conclude your business immediately and find a more appropriate place to meet.”
The goddess disappeared, and normal conversation resumed among the relaxed tearoom patrons.
“Let’s go.” Bliss rose.
“Don’t we have to pay for our order?”
“My best friend is the manager. She says my money is no good here.” Bliss grinned.
Amber couldn’t believe Bliss was grinning so soon after being chewed out by the most powerful being on earth. She herself was still reeling from the encounter.
“I think I know all I need to at this point,” Amber said as they wound their way to the front door. I like the idea of saying no, and I don’t have a husband to worry about.
Bliss waved to the blond behind the cash register.
“Are you sure? We can go to my house and talk. My husband is home today, but he knows all about us.”
Married to a minor goddess… What must that be like?
They stepped out onto the sidewalk. “No, I’m good. Actually, I have an appointment.”
Bliss looked askance at her. “Really? Or are you just scared?”
“No. I really do have an appoint—”
She felt a thump and turned around to see that a big man had bumped into her…a big, gorgeous man.
“Beggin’ your pardon,” he said. “I was payin’ more attention to me map than your lovely self.”
Amber adored accents and had heard quite a few in her travels. This one was decidedly Irish. But the sparkle in his blue eyes and his dark auburn hair would have given a hint about his lineage anyway. A red streak coming out of his widow’s peak flopped over his forehead. Quite a unique look.
Then she noticed the two women who were with him. There was a definite family resemblance, and that red streak didn’t appear as unique to him as she had thought. They all had one.
“Are you all right?” one of the women asked.
“Oh. Yes, I’m fine,” Amber said when she finally realized she’d been standing there mute and staring at the hot guy. “I’m sorry. My name is Amber. Are you lost? Maybe I can help.”
“Ah,” the man said with a smile. “Amber is a beautiful name for a jewel such as yourself.”
She grinned, completely captivated by his Irish charm. Get hold of yourself, Amber. It’s probably as much a load of blarney as any pick-up line. It just sounds better with the accent.
“And I’m Rory. These are me sisters, Chloe and Shannon. Actually, we are a bit confused,” he said. “From what we were told, Boston Uncommon is supposed to be a bar.”
“A special bar,” his sister said, implying…something.
“Let me see your map,” Amber said. When she reached for it, her hand touched his and a sizzle of warmth radiated through her.
Bliss jumped in. “I think I know what you’re looking for, but this isn’t it—anymore. As you can see, it’s now a tearoom.”
“That’s right,” Amber said. “You used to work here. Was it a bar at one time?”
“Oh yeah. And a special bar for sure.” Bliss winked at the guy.
Amber was a bit put out. Wasn’t Bliss married? She reminded herself that it was none of her business, but flirting could lead to… Oh, get it together, Amber. You just met these people.
Just then, Bliss whipped out her cell phone and brought up a picture on the screen. “I think you might like to meet my husband,” she said as she showed the photo to the Irish trio.
