Casting Dreams

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Casting Dreams Page 2

by J. L. Weil


  There was no denying the quick flutter of heat in my belly. Dear God. He was even more impressive than I remembered.

  Men like that broke hearts without spilling a drop of blood. And I did not plan to be one of them, no matter how fabulous his butt was. No, thank you. I didn’t need that in my life. I wanted to save his life, not bear his children―or so I kept telling myself, but it was hard to deny he was a marvel to gaze at. And our babies would be beautiful.

  Yep. He definitely had the ability to take my mind off what I should be concentrating on—how to save him from dying. All I could think about was that kiss. It had been a vision, so I guess that meant at some point I wouldn’t be able to resist his charm.

  Collecting myself, I headed in his direction, my vibrant, flowing skirt moving with the sway of my hips. Half-dozen gold bracelets clanged at my wrists as I picked up a droplet of amethyst. “Do you seek clarity?”

  He idly fingered the moonstone. “Is that what this does?”

  “Ah, among other things. I’m partial to amethyst myself.” I opened my hand, rings flashing on my fingers and held the purple stone in my palm.

  “And what does the amethyst do?”

  “Its mystical powers are said to open the mind.” I leaned a hip up against the table. “Are you in need of crystals? Or let me guess, you changed your mind and have come to have your palm read?”

  He grinned, turning those hypnotic eyes on my face. “Actually, I was thinking of dinner.”

  My automatic impulse was to refuse, but something gave me pause. I studied him. He hadn’t come to Kenmare looking for love, so what was it Conner wanted with me? There was more than one way to find out, but I decided to give the traditional way a shot. “Are you asking me out?”

  “That I am, Mirela.”

  I should say no. A smart girl would, but after dreaming of Conner most of my life, I was interested in everything about the man―who he was, why the wolf wanted his life, and what was so different about Conner Delany, other than his intense eyes. And hearing him say my name stirred up a little unexpected storm of lust inside me. “You’re going to be trouble.”

  He flashed me a single dimple on his left cheek. “Not the first time I’ve been told.”

  “Why are you really here, Conner Delany?”

  A thin scar cut through his left eyebrow. “You keep asking me that. Have dinner with me and find out.”

  I lifted a hand to my hair, the waves falling carelessly down my back. The big hoops at my ears peeked out of my raven hair. “Why not? Tomorrow night. Six o’clock, then?”

  “Do you recommend a restaurant?”

  “I’ll meet you at the pub. There’s only one in town. You should be able to find it easy enough.”

  “Until tomorrow, Mirela.” He gave me one last look before strolling out of the little shop.

  I sighed, turning the amethyst over in my hand. One thing was certain…

  Conner Delany was going to be bad for business.

  Chapter Two

  The little cottage in the woods gleamed under moonlight and had been my home for the last two years. The covered porch wrapped around the side, perfect for lazy mornings in the swing or stargazing in the quiet evenings. Moving out of Nan’s had been difficult, but we both knew the time had come for me to venture out on my own.

  Slipping my key into the lock, I opened the front door, letting the warmth of home welcome me. I kicked off my heels and hung my handbag on the hook inside the entryway. Just last year I’d spent a weekend painting the interior a toasted wheat color. The warm walls were framed in dark wood and lined with enchanting artwork.

  As in the shop, I surrounded myself at home in bold colors, but simple furnishings. Decorative rugs were scattered on the polished wood floors.

  Following my nightly ritual, I tidied up, brewed a cup of chamomile tea, and switched off the lights as I moved upstairs. Drawing hot water from the claw-foot tub, I lit a candle and indulged in a bubble bath, sinking into the fragrant water with a sigh and a book.

  No cards or enchantments tonight, just a romance novel with a happily-ever-after ending. Sometimes it was good to leave the magick at the shop and just be a woman at home.

  When the bubbles had fizzled and the water turned tepid, I climbed out and slipped into my comfiest pair of pajamas. Twisting my hair into a loose braid, I caught a glimpse of myself in the steamy mirror.

  My eyes, tired from the restless nights, were a deep, bright purple, long lidded and tilted at the corners. Gypsy eyes, my father often said when I was little. It was one of the few memories I had of him. And thinking of that, I felt tears well up.

  It was the lack of sleep. I wasn’t a crier, but some days, when my defenses were down, I felt emotions too deeply—part of the gift.

  The run-in with Conner had caught me off guard, and knowing tomorrow night I’d see him again, my whole life felt out of balance. There was a part of me that always knew he would come. What other explanation could there be for the constant reoccurring dream? But I thought I’d have more time.

  Wasn’t that always the case?

  There was nothing I could do tonight, but maybe in my dreams I’d learn something worthwhile, for things were changing. His presence was bound to have an effect—good or bad.

  Swiping at my eyes, I padded into the bedroom and crawled under the pinched-pleated white duvet. As I lay down for the night, I waited for the dream to come, and only minutes after my head hit the pillow, I was sucked under.

  I dreamed of Conner, of the wolf, and of the stone circle.

  Through the fog, at the edge of the circle, the wolf watched me from the trees. He was pure black, with eyes like gold coins. There was nothing friendly about his stance or the way he pawed the dirt.

  He growled, and I reached for the amulet hanging at my neck for protection, but it wasn’t there. Panic snaked inside me as I backed up, and I swore the wolf grinned.

  We’ve been waiting for you, the wolf’s voice sounded in my head. Dark. Seedy. And cunning.

  I never took the amulet off. This had to be a trick. “I won’t let you kill him,” I swore.

  The wolf laughed, a sound that sent ice running through my veins. There is nothing you can do, little dove. Spirit you have, but it won’t serve you here. Come then, stop me from taking his heart.

  I circled the stones, trying to think, the fog rising and clouding more than my feet, my path, my mind. In all the dreams, not once had I come face-to-face with the wolf. Before, I’d been an outsider looking down, never a participant in the dream. This, I wasn’t prepared for.

  Through the mist, a man emerged. Conner.

  With powerful strides, he went to the center of the circle, putting himself between the wolf and me, aqua eyes darkening with power and fury. There, surrounded by the stones, where the moon glistened full and white, magick called to him—to the night—to the sea—to his blood.

  It sang in his veins, filling him with a power as natural as breathing. The winds whispered something dark was coming. Endings. Beginnings. Destiny.

  “Run,” Conner told me.

  I tilted my chin up. “I will not run from him. I will not give him what he wants.” The chase. He wanted to hunt me, hunt us both. And I refused.

  The wolf showed its teeth in a terrible growl. Listen to him, little dove.

  Conner frowned. It was evident he wasn’t happy with me being here. “Take my hand, and whatever happens, don’t let go.”

  No hesitation, I put my hand in his. A zing of electricity had me hissing through my teeth.

  His scowl deepened.

  The wolf came on a howl that echoed over the trees and beyond the sea, pacing the outer edge of the stones.

  Conner, arms lifted high, face turned to the sky, and my fingers twined with his. “In air, in earth, in flame, in sea. As I will, so mote it be.”

  The wind spun, twisting up into the darkness and howling like a wolf on the hunt. The earth shook, trembling like a quake. The fire roared to life in wild red an
d gold, smoke disappearing with the wind. The water in the ocean crashed in violent waves against the rocky shore.

  All the elements present and accounted for.

  I stared up at the man beside me. Conner was more than just a man. He had magick.

  A flare of white light erupted, so bright it blinded me for a few moments. And then the wind stilled and the fog died, leaving just a man. The wolf was gone.

  Conner’s shoulders dropped, his face white and eyes glowing with power.

  “What are you?” I whispered. I sensed no freedom or booze could quell the restlessness that lived in him. I could sense it all, the thoughts that ran through his head. It felt invasive, but at the same time, I couldn’t stop myself.

  He released my hand, and I caught a quick shadow of something dark in his eyes. And then his voice was in my head. You must leave here, Mirela. My world isn’t safe for you.

  In the dark, with moonlight spilling through the sheer curtains, I woke with a jolt. The cool evening wind of spring blew through my tousled hair. It carried the scent of pine and sea, reminding me of Conner. I buried my head into the pillow, and my heart raced at the sound of a wolf calling to the night.

  I moved through the archway and into the sun-drenched room. Clusters of crystals dangled from a shelf, glinting in rainbows. The windowsill was lined with fresh herbs and charming figures of faeries.

  There was a deep-cushioned couch in blueberry that would welcome an afternoon nap, dainty, white sheer curtains dancing in the breeze that teased the open window, and the smell of books mixed with the airy fragrance of flowers. In the corner was a fireplace, perfect to snuggle up to on those cold winter nights and read one of the many books.

  Nan’s house was home, filled with childhood memories, most of which brought a smile to my lips; however, there had also been tears. Nan dried those tears, held me during the visions of a confused child. Her house had been mine since the night of the fire when I’d lost everything, and Nan became my world. It was she who taught me to hone my gifts, to embrace the visions instead of fight them.

  And it was here I came when I needed the comfort of someone who understood me and the struggle of possessing such a gift. If anyone understood, it was Nan.

  My mother hadn’t had any unique abilities, other than being a caring woman, but Nan, she was like me. Well, I wasn’t sure anyone was really like me. Although I did receive visions of others, mine were mostly centered on Conner.

  “I made tea,” Nan said, as I meandered my way slowly to her kitchen, dragging butt.

  “I may need something stronger this morning,” I replied, sinking into the wooden chair.

  “You’re pale, mo chroí.” Concern lined a face that defied her age. “The dream again?”

  I cupped the mug, letting the steam warm my chilled hands and nodded. “Things are changing, and I don’t know what it means. The wolf. The man. Death.”

  “All things reveal themselves in time. You know the craft cannot be rushed or pushed. You must accept it in whole, the good, the bad, and the unknown. Are you wearing the amulet?”

  “Always.” My hand fiddled with the charm hanging around my neck. It hadn’t been there last night when I needed it. I kept that little tidbit to myself, not wanting to worry Nan any more than I already did.

  “The amulet was passed to you, but not to your mother. She wasn’t the one, mo chroí. You are. It chose you to be its guardian, and the legacy of our blood was passed to you.”

  My gaze moved from her worried face to my cup of tea. “I don’t know how much time he has. I’m a part of this, but I don’t know what my part is. Am I to warn him? Am I supposed to prevent his death? What is the purpose of this gift if I can’t change his destiny?”

  She placed her hand gently over mine, a surprising strength in such a small woman. But that was Nan. Petite and fierce. “The answers are never clear. The sight is neither black nor white. But the choices forever remain yours.”

  I sighed. “Sometimes choices suck. And what if I make the wrong one?”

  “Life’s a gamble. There are no right or wrong choices.”

  Only those that got Conner killed. I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I need to prepare, get ready for tonight. Thank you for the tea and the chat.” I had needed both.

  “A hot date?” she asked with a wink.

  I rinsed my empty cup and put it into the sink. “Me or you?”

  “I’ve had more dates this month than you’ve had in a lifetime.”

  “Ugh, Nan. That is information I don’t want to know.”

  "Mirela, a night out might be what you need. A glass of wine, a meal with a nice gentleman…”

  I could see her soft green eyes twinkling, and the mischief behind them. If I let her, Nan would set me up with every eligible bachelor in Ireland. “Don’t even think about it. You know how I feel about being set up. I can find my own dates, Nan.”

  She folded her hands neatly on the table. “Of course you can. Look at you. Any man would have to be out of his mind to not want to date my granddaughter.”

  “That we can agree on. And actually, I’m going out tonight.”

  “The man in the dream?”

  I didn’t ask how she knew. She was gifted. I learned long ago, hiding things from Nan was impossible…so was lying.

  Had I been waiting for him? This whole time? Casually dating, but never taking things past a few dates. I’d never been in a serious relationship. And at twenty-two, Nan was itching for me to settle down. She wanted to see her great-granbabies before she left this Earth, and according to her, death was always looming around the corner.

  But Conner Delany made me think of things beyond first date kisses, and I didn’t know if it was the dream or something more. There was no denying he could make my heart skip.

  His warning from the dream echoed in my head as I stared out the window. What had he meant, his world? I couldn’t shake the feeling this was just the beginning of something big…and dangerous.

  Chapter Three

  A fire snapped in the hearth of the pub, chasing the chill of the rain. The room was cozy, with its worn wood floors and the comfort of voices around me.

  I found Conner at the bar, chatting up Fiona, the pretty brunette at the bar who was pouring a pint of Guinness. More like flirting. Maeve’s daughter was known for her flirtatious nature, and I couldn’t quench the bout of jealousy. Who could blame her, though? Conner was hard to ignore.

  His rich caramel hair was windblown. As I drew closer, attraction struck, tugging my heart and belly. Everything about him was sharp: the cheekbones, the jaw, even the bold color of his eyes, as blue as the sea. There was a glint in them as he caught sight of me from the corner.

  Fiona propped her elbows on the bar, gazing at Conner like he hung the moon. “Let me guess, you’re a Gemini.”

  I rolled my eyes as I took a seat beside him at the bar. I’d forgotten Fiona’s interest in astrology. She had spent an entire summer, a few years back, hanging around Nan’s, asking a million questions.

  “Impressive,” he said, pulling a swig from his pint.

  Fiona grinned, looking quite pleased with herself. Poor girl.

  My gaze locked on Conner’s. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

  He sent me a cheeky grin. “And here you are, Mirela. I was beginning to wonder if you would stand me up. I’m glad you didn’t.”

  “It crossed my mind, but tonight is the kind of night for wine to warm the blood.”

  Fiona set my usual on the bar. “Thank you, Fiona. It’s much appreciated.”

  “Should we grab a table before there are none left?” Conner suggested. A quiet booth, away from the prying ears of the locals, sounded good, so I nodded.

  “You’re not a Gemini,” I said as we walked to the rear of the pub.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “What am I then?”

  He was testing me, but I didn’t mind. I knew a whole lot more about Conner Delany. “A Scorpio.”

  “There was no harm in let
ting young Fiona think otherwise.”

  Although Fiona looked fresh out of high school, there was nothing youthful about her. “What about flirting? I suppose there is no harm in that either?” I asked, setting my glass down on the mahogany table.

  “There is never harm in making a lass feel special.”

  Our waitress came around just then, saving me from making a snide comment. She had a smile as bright as her crimson hair, and it was all for Conner. I might as well have been across the room, for all the attention I got. “What can I get you tonight?”

  “Mirela?” Conner prompted. At least he was courteous.

  I didn’t bother to look at the menu. I’d been to the pub more times than I could count, and like most things in Kenmare, the menu stayed the same, which was fine by me. Why mess with something if it doesn’t need fixing? “I’ll just have a bowl of Sean’s stew.”

  “Make it two of the house stews, luv,” Conner winked.

  I sipped my wine and considered a charmer who threw endearments around like they were candy on Halloween. Maybe, just maybe, there was something under the smug exterior. “Do you always use your smile as a weapon?”

  Conner leaned back into the worn leather seat and put on a look of amusement. “Only when it suits me.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re arrogant and cheeky?” I asked.

  Nothing seemed to faze him. If anything, I only entertained him more. “Never.”

  I wasn’t going to allow myself to get swept away by his dimple. Trailing a finger on the rim of my glass, I cut to the chase. “What is it you want from me, Conner? Do you want me to tell you your future?”

  “Do you know mine, Mirela?”

  “Aye, I do.”

  “There are many things I want from you, but a meal and your company will do for now.”

  I kept my gaze level with his. “I can be patient, but my patience only goes so far.”

 

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