The Irishman (A Legacy Novella) (The Legacy Series Book 7)

by Sheritta Bitikofer

  “Can you believe the wedding’s tomorrow?” she whispered, leaning her head upon his shoulder as she, too, gazed out over the river.

  Dustin chuckled. “I sometimes wonder if I’m going to wake up at any moment and realize this has all been a dream.”

  Cassandra slipped her hand in his and held it tight. “This is real. We’re going to be married.”

  For a long moment, they said nothing and stared at the way the early evening sun cast shimmering lights across the surface of the water. He hoped that the weather would be this fine tomorrow. Such a wonderful day deserved fine weather like this.

  “When do you need to go back?” Dustin asked, dreading whatever answer she may give.

  “I think da knows I’ve been sneaking away to see you,” she replied, a smile flavoring her words. “He told me to make sure you take care of me and no changeling comes to steal me away.”

  Dustin shook his head. “Even if there were changelings running around in these woods, I wouldn’t let a single one touch you.”

  He kissed the crown of her head and she snuggled closer.

  “That’s good to know,” she giggled.

  He let his eyes drift up to the bit of blue sky peeking out from the treetops. “You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, right?”

  “You should save your vows for tomorrow at the church.”

  Dustin straightened and eased away so he could meet her stare. “No, I’m serious.”

  Alarm shadowed her face for only a second before she nodded. “Yes, I know… Or, at least I like to think that I do.”

  In that moment, he thought of all the things he had wanted to say over the years, all the words that had been bottled up inside of him. They were the ones he dared not speak into the open for fear that she’d laugh at him. Maybe now, just a day away from their wedding, she wouldn’t laugh.

  “I know I’ve never had much to offer you,” he began. “All I have are these two hands and a heart that’s always been yours. I’d never make you work. I’ll treat you like a queen and our house will be your castle. If you don’t want to live on the farm, then we’ll go wherever you want. We can even go to the colonies across the sea. Whatever you want, I’ll get it for you. Whatever you need, just say it and I’ll do my best to make it happen. All I want in this world is to make you happy.”

  A tear glistened in each of Cassandra’s stunning blue eyes. And when she blinked, they were loosed to roll down her cheeks. Dustin reached out and wiped them away with his thumbs, but her smile told him that these were joyful tears. Those were the only ones he would ever permit her to shed as long as he still had breath left in him.

  “First of all, Dustin Keith,” she started in, “I never want anything more than this. You and me, together. A big fancy house and lots of pretty things mean nothing to me. And I don’t care where we go, whether it’s the colonies or some faraway land where nobody knows us. Wherever you are is where I want to be. And your love is enough to make me ridiculously happy for the rest of eternity. Don’t you ever forget it.”

  She kissed him once more and he was tempted to believe that her speech was over until she pulled away once more, a new fiery look in her eye.

  “And what exactly do you expect me to do while you’re out in the fields slaving away for us? I certainly won’t be inside the house twiddling my thumbs. You know I could never just sit by, idle and useless. I’ll be right there in the fields with you and there’s not a word you could say to make me change my opinion on the matter.”

  Dustin smirked at her feistiness. “And what about when you’re heavy with child? Do you think I’d let you get down on your hands and knees to dig?”

  Cassandra lost a bit of her fire at the mention of children and just as quickly as the tide had turned against him, it flowed back into his favor. “I hope you won’t keep me pregnant all the time, then.”

  He shot her a smoldering look that suggested he might do just that, and then kissed her again. “Fine,” he mumbled against her lips. “Maybe just pregnant half of the time.”

  When the wedding was done and the guests had finally gone home to leave Dustin and Cassandra in peace for the night, she thought to herself that she had never smiled so much in her life as she did on that day. Cradled in his strong arms, she was carried into their new home, the one Dustin had been raised in and the one that the Keiths willed to him upon their passing.

  “You’ve cleaned up,” she remarked, looking around in the dim light of the room. No candles had been lit in preparation for their arrival, but they wouldn’t need them.

  “I knew if there was even a bit of untidiness, you’d have my arse for sure,” Dustin replied, his whiskey breath spilling over her face as he clumsily made his way past the furniture of the main sitting room.

  Cassandra laughed, despite his bit of rough talk. She never minded it, even when he was a little tipsy with drink. However, she did find it unsettling to be so helpless in his embrace while his footing was unsteady. More than once did he bump her legs against a doorframe as they passed through the house to end their journey in the bedroom.

  Trembling, and her cheeks hot with the anticipation of what was to come, she clung to his neck even more tightly. “I don’t know who sang more at the reception,” she said, masking her nervousness with conversation, “you or my father.”

  “At least I sang in bloody English!” Dustin exclaimed with a pleased grin as he dispensed her onto the mattress.

  Cassandra giggled as she bounced atop the quilted blanket. Dustin was on her before she could sit up, his lips met hers and were still flavored with the parting glass of the evening. She tasted it and savored the sweetness of the liquor. If allowed, she would have drank just as much as he or any of the other men. But under the watchful eye of her father, she thought better of it. There would be plenty more chances to drink with her husband and partake in some of the cheerful songs she had heard throughout the afternoon.

  Before she could realize what he was doing, Dustin’s eager fingers were tugging at the laces along her spine to make them come undone. She laughed at his efforts and pushed him off so she could make her stays more accessible to him. By the way he fumbled with the ties, she knew he must have been just as anxious as she was.

  Her hands, despite their constant tremor, undid his vest and made short work in liberating him from his shirt to bare the body that lay beneath. She couldn’t count how many time she had admired Dustin from afar as he worked in the fields, the sun caressing the muscled curve of his arms and chest. Each time, she fell breathless at the sight of him and longed for the day when she could touch his tanned skin just as she did now.

  Dustin shivered as her fingertips explored down the slope of his back and curled around his waist to glory in his indescribable figure. He ripped at the hindering cloth that kept him from repaying her for her caresses. Cassandra let out a startled gasp when she felt the cool air of the dark bedroom hit the exposed skin on her back and sides.

  Though it was doubtful that she would ever wear this dress again, she had at least thought she could save it for her daughter when it came time for her to marry. Now, she’d have to get it mended. What an awkward conversation that would be to the town’s seamstress.

  It took only a moment for the rest of their garments to be stripped from them and tossed to the floor beside the bed. Naked and vulnerable, Cassandra kept her eyes closed for fear that she’d shell up and demand that they take this slowly. She didn’t want to, not while this surge of passion had its sway over them. So, she purposefully blinded herself to the inconvenient reality of what they were doing. She loved Dustin dearly, more than she knew she would ever love anything in this world and she didn’t want any feeling of shame to ruin this for her.

  Dustin pushed her back down onto the quilt and she could feel her entire body given to that uncontrollable quivering. It had originated in her hands ever since she stood before the alter at the church. Whether it was from eagerness or timidity, she didn’t know. If it truly
was fear, then she hated herself for it. Why should she be afraid of something that all couples enjoyed?

  Another gasp escaped from her lips when she felt the tip of his warm, silky member trail up the inside of her thigh. Cassandra jerked away from it out of reflex, but forced herself to be calm for Dustin’s sake. He wasn’t proud, but she didn’t want to upset him with her own duplicity. She wanted this, she really did. She could feel it in the way this immense pressure began to build within her core, begging for a release that only he could provide.

  Before he could consummate their union, Cassandra sensed there may have been something wrong. Dustin stilled on top of her and his limbs went rigid. His lips pinched together against hers and he pulled away.

  “What is it?” she whispered, her fingers lacing into his hair as if that would somehow sooth him.

  She risked a look into his face, but it was too dark to see much of anything besides the shadowy outline of his head.

  Dustin cleared his throat and shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” He bent down to kiss her again, but she knew him too well.

  Gripping his thick brown locks in her hands, she tugged his head backward to end the kiss. “No, something’s wrong. Are you feeling all right?” His body shuddered and she felt the muscles of his arms tense. “Did you have too much to drink?”

  Once more, Dustin shook his head, but instead of demanding they continue, he crawled off of her and sat at her feet. “No, I didn’t… I don’t know what – “

  His explanation was cut short when he let out a short, gruff groan. He had to be in pain. Forgetting her own indecency, she went to him and placed her hands upon his shoulders. His skin felt hot to the touch and only grew hotter the longer she held him there.

  “Let me call for a doctor,” she said, “You feel feverish.”

  Dustin knocked her hands away and in what little moonlight shined through the window, she could see him wrap his arms around his midsection. Cassandra could only watch as he struggled to his feet.

  “No, I’m fine,” he repeated. “I just need…”

  He never finished his sentence. He crumbled to his knees and leaned forward as if he were being beaten mercilessly by some unseen force. Cassandra slid off the bed and came to him instantly, but her hand was stayed by another long, painful moan from her husband.

  The moonlight fell across half of his body, revealing what was happening.

  She heard the sickening pop as the first bone in his shoulder looked as if it would pierce through his flesh. Cassandra cried out and took refuge against the wall. Her eyes widened, taking in the transformation that consumed her lover. Stricken with panic, she wasn’t sure she was even breathing.

  Dustin screamed out in agony as the symptoms of this unnatural change continued. The instinct to flee for safety was matched by the need to help him in whatever way she could, but she hardly knew how to do that. Could she mash these bones back into place with her bare hands? What about the tail that manifested from the bottom of his spine? Could she rip out the black fur that seemed to sprout from every pore on his body? Or push in the muzzle that extended from his face, complete with sharp fangs and a wet nose like a dog’s?

  Her mind could scarcely come up with a single thought to explain any of this. There were only questions. What unholy beast was he becoming? Why? Had he done this before? Was this the first time? Was he truly a changeling as her father had teased about him so many times before? What had she married? Because, she knew for certain that Dustin was not a man at all. Not anymore. In all the years she had known him, all the years she had loved him, this thing had been lurking beneath the surface.

  Cassandra slid down the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest as her own body was given to spasms. She covered her mouth to keep the screams bottled up. But when Dustin turned to her, the shift complete, and stared at her with hungry golden eyes, she could no longer remain silent.

  “Sláinte!” they cheered as the crowd of men clanked their mugs together. A bit of beer sloshed over the rims and spilled upon the table at which they sat.

  Samuel grinned and took a swig of his drink. The festivities had just begun, but this was already his second drink in the hour. The knowledge of losing his only daughter was both a painful and joyful thing.

  Painful in the sense that he would no longer have her about the house, looking after his wellbeing, helping him with the chores. He would sorely miss the hours they had spent together by the fire talking about the farm and other town gossip. He, above all others, thought it was far too soon for her to marry anyone while he was alone in the world without her.

  But then there was Dustin. All of Glengarriff agreed that if they should lose Cassandra to any man, he was the one to rightly deserve her. All his friends had been commenting on the matter since the start of the engagement, saying that he wasn’t just losing a daughter, but gaining a worthy son-in-law that would surely help with the farm and not be selfish with his new wife. Dustin understood Samuel’s predicament and already promised to let Cassandra visit next door whenever she pleased. In all honesty, Dustin was liable to let her have whatever she wished, short of the moon. And even then, he’d probably try to build his own ladder, so he could climb up and steal it from the sky for her if she demanded it.

  And that was how the after party began. All his friends and the older men of the village came to console him in this bittersweet moment that all fathers must experience in their lifetime. Some made remarks on the wedding and how lovely the bride looked. Others turned the conversation toward themselves and how the first month of their own daughter’s marriage progressed. Stories and anecdotes were passed across the table and the nostalgia helped them along in emptying their glasses a little faster with each new telling.

  Samuel refused to lament, but tried his best to be happy for Cassandra, despite his loss.

  When Shamus was in the middle of relating some humorous story about his daughter coming home in a fit of tears because her husband had done something reproachful, a sound drove them all to sit deathly silent in the pub.

  A scream. Not like that of a wailing tomcat, which they were accustomed to hearing every now and again. And nothing like the braying of the donkeys from one of the farms. This wasn’t even a shrill cry of delight as some ladies were given to.

  This was a horrifying, other-worldly screech that made each man look to one another in pure astonishment. It was definitely feminine, and not even that close to the pub and main thoroughfare in town. It must have been coming from one of the houses further inland and away from the bay.

  Before the scream had even begun to cease, they all flew out of their chairs in such a hurry that both chairs and mugs were toppled over. Samuel, despite his stiff and aching joints, was the first to exit the pub and hurry down the road.

  He somehow instinctively knew that this had to do with his Cassandra. If it wasn’t her own scream, then it must have been the shrieking of a banshee, declaring an ill omen of death upon the house of the newlyweds.

  Lanterns were fetched, weapons were retrieved from houses, but Samuel didn’t waste time with any of these things, even if he was stumbling down the road in the dark with only the moon to guide him.

  The scream had long died away by the time he reached the Keith farm, his chest heaving for more air as his legs threatened to buckle from underneath him. Fatherly love carried him this far, but it was terror that made him stop at the front gate.

  Though it was hard to tell over his heavy panting, the house appeared silent. Silent as the grave. So silent that when the front door was crashed through, he nearly fell over in shock. With only the stone barrier that separated the front lawn from the road to keep him steady, he witnessed something burst from the home.

  It was neither man, nor beast, though its shadowed figure in the moonlight suggested it to be more beast than anything. Yet, there was a human quality in the way it regarded him with devilish golden eyes that glinted through the dark.

  He swallowed hard, unable to
move, unable to yell. It was like nothing he had ever seen outside of his own imagination and nightmares. The creature snarled at him, its lips curling up to reveal bloodstained teeth as its wolfish ears pricked forward in a sign of annoyance.

  He thought that the beast would lunge for him. The muscles that bunched and flexed under its dark pelt suggested it. But when the shouts and frantic voices of the other men signaled their approach, the beast quit its growling and darted off into the fields behind the house.

  Samuel’s knees finally gave out on him and he fell down onto the road, his hand gripping at his chest to make sure that his heart hadn’t pounded straight out of his ribs. It certainly felt as if it would.

  In a daze, he was vaguely aware that some men came to stand by him, asking too many questions for him to comprehend. Behind him, other men entered the house and came out to give the report that he already suspected.

  Cassandra was dead.

  He didn’t need to hear the details, nor did he want to. That beast, that wolf, must have killed her. But, what of Dustin? Where was his son-in-law.

  His mute question was answered when the other men confirmed that he was nowhere to be found, but his clothes were on the floor in the bedroom along with Cassandra’s torn wedding dress.

  Samuel dropped his head into his hands and began to weep. It had been what he secretly feared and occasionally teased in passing. Dustin was responsible for this. But he was no changeling. A changeling didn’t take the form of a beast like what he saw. It must have been a faoladh, a werewolf as the English called it.

  No one would believe him if he told them about the wolf. They wouldn’t follow him after the creature, because they hadn't seen it like he did. They probably wouldn’t believe him if he tried to explain his suspicion that Dustin had killed Cassandra either. No one could conceive that such a kind, protective boy like Dustin could ever commit such a crime.