by Ashlyn Chase
She held up her palm to halt his assumption. “Not yet. We need to talk to the other party. Remember?”
His hope faded. “Of course.” He gestured toward the bedroom with a sweep of his hand.
Both of the managers approached the door and knocked.
“Who is it?” Amber called out.
“The managers,” Sly answered.
She opened the door a crack. “Have you come to a decision?”
Ah! She can’t hear through doors. That means she’s probably not supernatural, which is a point in me favor.
“We have not. May we come in and talk to you?” Morgaine said.
“Does a certain stubborn Irishman have to come in with you?”
“Not yet,” Morgaine said. “We’d like to talk to you both individually first.”
Amber stepped back and opened the door wider.
As soon as the managers were inside, she gave Rory an arrogant smile and closed the door in his face.
He was tempted to shift. His hearing was even better in his dragon form. He chuckled to himself as he pictured her expression when she came nose to snout with a full-sized dragon in her living room. She’d probably run, screaming.
Sly was speaking, but Rory could tell the vampire was trying to keep his voice low. Still, Rory was able to pick up the gist of the conversation. Why did she want to live here? Would her references check out? Had she ever been late with her rent? And, if she wound up with the apartment, could she get along with other tenants? All the normal questions a landlord with two potential renters would ask.
There was no question hinting about her being paranormal, which meant they didn’t know if she was.
Finally the managers emerged and Amber closed the door, but she didn’t lock it this time. That could be an oversight or a sign of confidence. Either way, he was sure he could convince her to leave.
Before either Sly or Morgaine spoke, a knock at the door indicated visitors. Rory strode to the door and opened it to reveal his grinning sisters. They held a futon laden with grocery bags and they hadn’t even broken a sweat.
“Ah,” he said. “How lucky am I to have such a strong and loyal family?”
Sly smiled. “Let me help you with that.”
“No need. We’ve got it,” Chloe said. “Where do you want this, Brother?”
“Me thinks right in front of the fireplace would be nice. Don’t you?” he asked Morgaine.
She nodded. “You can only burn candles in the fireplace though.”
“A pity. But I always abide by the rules.” He turned to his sisters. “You didn’t happen to purchase any candles, did you?”
They set down the futon in front of the fireplace and Shannon grunted. “We were thinkin’ you might like to eat and sleep, so we got you a bed, food, and cutlery.”
Chloe snorted. “I suppose you wanted a complete set of silver and bone china for twelve, but we didn’t get those either.”
He held up his hands. “You’ve got the right of it. I only need the basics for now.”
“I can bring you a few candles,” Morgaine said and smiled.
“Thank you!” Rory didn’t mean to sound so surprised.
The bedroom door opened. Amber glanced at the cozy setup and the girls carrying bags of groceries to the kitchen.
“Oh. You’re moving in? Well, don’t get too comfortable, because I just called a moving company to pack my apartment and bring all my things here.”
“And how are they supposed to get into your old apartment?” Chloe asked. “It’s not like we’re about to help you turn out our brother so you can leave.”
“I called my neighbor, Candy. She has an emergency key to my apartment and said she’d let the movers in.”
Everyone focused on the managers, who’d been silently observing the whole time.
At last, Morgaine said, “Since we can’t seem to come to a decision, we’re going to let the other tenants weigh in. Are you both agreeable to meeting them?”
“Absolutely,” Rory said. He hoped there were a lot of female tenants he could use his Irish charisma on…even though the only woman he wanted to charm at the moment was the one least interested in his existence.
* * *
Finn Kelley sat at a card table across from a gypsy inside a colorful tent.
I must be mad. Truth be told, he’d consult the devil himself to get a clue to Shannon’s whereabouts. The doctor was right, drinking didn’t solve the problem. As soon as Finn had sobered up, he’d known that.
“You’re missing someone,” the gypsy woman said. “A young woman, I see.”
Finn leaned forward, hoping to get a glimpse of whatever was in the seer’s crystal ball. “Where is she?”
The gypsy stared into the crystal and her brows furrowed. “Hmmm…”
She leaned forward and seemed to be straining to see something. A full minute passed. At last she shut her eyes, leaned back, and rubbed her temples.
“What’s wrong?”
“That knowledge is blocked.”
“Blocked? What do you mean?”
“I mean that bit of information is shrouded—being kept secret by someone or something. An entity… And trying to get to it is hurting my head.”
Finn narrowed his eyes. “Is this a ploy for more money? Will another dozen euros find a way through that block?”
Her back stiffened. “As much as I’d like more money to offset the pain I just suffered, I am not a fraud. I am telling you that someone or something is not allowing me to see more.”
“I don’t understand.”
She sighed. “It must be powerful magic. Now, don’t roll your eyes…”
He hadn’t.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard of the ancient little people, but I’d say the block must come from someone or something like that.”
Finn rolled his eyes—he couldn’t help it this time. “I’m Irish. Of course I’ve heard the legends of leprechauns, fairies, and the like.”
“They are not legends. Or as my people say, ‘Legends come from somewhere.’ They tend to be ancient truths.”
If this woman wasn’t a fraud, he’d eat his hat, but on the off chance she wasn’t full of shite… “Fine. Let’s say the little people are hidin’ her somewhere. How do I find them?”
“Ah, now that’s the trick. You’ll have to find someone who doesn’t want to be found.”
Here it is… I’ll need to pay her a hundred euros and go to some far-off location while she conveniently disappears.
“Fortunately, I know a bit of magic has upset the area recently. I’d say they’re a lot closer than you might think.”
“Close, huh? How close?”
“Right here in Ballyhoo. An ancient castle has appeared out of nowhere. It’s built into the cliffs off Braydon Road.”
Now she had his attention. Shannon’s cottage was on Braydon Road’s dead end. It was too much of a coincidence. Perhaps magic was responsible for her disappearance—if magic of that kind existed.
“I’m surprised I haven’t heard about an ancient castle appearin’. It seems like the kind of news that would spread through a small village in minutes.”
“That’s what the villagers get for shutting out us travelers. We see things, yet you turn us away from your pubs. If we’re not welcome, why should we tell the ‘good’ people of Ballyhoo what’s happening right under their noses?” She emphasized the word “good” as if she were spitting it. “They’d never believe us anyway.”
She had a point, but why hadn’t he seen a castle when he went looking for Shannon at her home? He’d been riding his bike and looking down to be sure he didn’t fall over a wagon wheel rut. He could have missed the castle—especially if it was tucked into a cliff.
He rose and reached into his back pocket. “How much do I owe you?”
“Thirty euros. But I already paid it.”
“Then our business is finished.”
He was surprised but not unhappy. “Is there anythin’ else you can tell me? Like, is she all right?”
“I’ve told you all I know.”
* * *
Finn rode his bicycle along the familiar tire ruts in the dirt road. For once, the weather was agreeable, allowing him to wear short sleeves and no slicker. Perhaps the cloaked hood he’d worn to keep the rain off his face had prevented him from seeing a castle before. He shook his head. Unlikely.
If there was a full-size castle near the Arish cottage, and not one made out of sand, he’d eat his derby hat.
When he rode into view of the cottage, he caught sight of a projection rising from the side of the cliff. Funny, I don’t think I’ve seen that before.
He hopped off his bike, abandoned it in the sod beside the road, and strode toward the ruin. As his view became clearer, he realized the projection resembled a turret and he quickened his pace. At last he ran toward the outcrop and halted in time to keep from tumbling off the grassy cliff.
Gazing down, he spotted a few openings in the cliff. Seeing such a thing wasn’t unusual in Ireland, but for stone arches to be built right into the side of a cliff like this… The caves looked more like doorways. How did the ancient residents get into it? And why hadn’t modern fishermen spotted it?
“What magic is this?” he muttered.
The sound of a throat clearing behind Finn startled him. He whirled around and came thighs to face with a small man. He was larger than a midget, but perfectly proportioned, unlike a dwarf. Wearing a green suit and a hat with red curls peeking out from under it, he looked like a…
“Top o’ the mornin’,” the little man said.
Hmmm… Nobody in Ireland says that anymore. Finn scrambled to remember all he’d ever heard about the little people, specifically leprechauns. They had gold and powerful magic to protect it. They liked to play tricks. His throat went dry. “Good mornin’,” Finn croaked politely.
“Can I help you?” the little man asked.
“I—um…” He had to find Shannon, and if the little people weren’t just a myth and had her, he had to find a way to ask. Careful now, Finn, he told himself. Legend says the leprechauns are easily insulted. Don’t accuse him of anythin’.
“Does your tongue work?”
“Ah, it does. I was just wonderin’ if in your travels you mayhaps have seen me friend. About yea high.” He held his hand out straight, level with his nose. “Hair as red as your own, but long and wavy. Lips like a perfect cupid’s bow, and eyes as blue as the sky this fine day.”
The little man scratched the short beard on his chin. “I can’t say as I’ve seen a lass like that.”
Finn hadn’t said she was a lass. The man was either lying or assuming her sex.
“I can see you love her,” the mysterious gentleman added quickly. “I’m sorry if she deserted you.”
Now Finn was insulted. He straightened his spine. “She would never desert me. Never. That’s why I’m afraid somethin’ terrible has happened.”
“Oh. Somethin’ terrible, is it? Let’s hope that’s not the case. Mayhaps you’ll find her—eventually.”
Finn was almost paralyzed with indecision. Should he grab the little man and, instead of demanding his pot of gold, insist that he return his ladylove? Not yet. Not until he knew who or what he was dealing with.
“We’ve not been properly introduced,” he said at last. “My name is Finnegan Kelley, but everyone calls me Finn.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Finn Kelley. You can call me Lucky.”
“A rare name. Does it apply?”
Lucky tittered. “Sometimes.”
Finn kicked at a clod of earth in front of him. “I wish I had a bit of luck right now. I must find Shannon. She was to be me wife someday. I miss her somethin’ fierce.”
Lucky reached out and laid a hand on Finn’s arm. “Close your eyes. See the lass in your mind,” he said.
Finn did as he was told. After all, he pictured her several times a day. When the small man removed his hand, Finn had a sense of peace and calm. It was as if he just knew she was all right.
“Well, I must be on me way,” Lucky said. “I have some business to conduct.”
Finn nodded. “It was good to meet you, sir.”
The leprechaun—or whatever he was—grinned. “No need for such formalities. I’m not a knight, after all. Not that you can tell from me appearance.” He chuckled and strode away toward the road.
Finn gazed at the castle again. He only turned his head for a moment or two, but when he looked back, Lucky was gone.
* * *
“Brandee,” Amber whispered as quietly as she could.
When no one appeared, she tried the other one. “Bliss? Bliss can you hear me?”
She figured if she could get someone to find Mother Nature for her, she’d gladly take the goddess up on her offer. Being the muse of air travel actually sounded interesting—depending on what the job entailed. And her actual job was getting so rote that she was thinking of switching to one of the bargain airlines just to have a little fun over the PA system.
When Bliss didn’t show up either, Amber decided to try the goddess herself.
“Mother Nature?” she called out quietly.
Rory’s voice answered her from the living room.
“If nature is callin’, the bathroom is free.”
“Crap.”
“Don’t stink it up,” he called out.
She marched over to the bedroom door and opened it. “You are the most disgusting man!”
He had the nerve to laugh. “Aren’t you glad we’re roommates?”
As gorgeous as he was, she would not tolerate bad behavior. This guy seemed to think he could do no wrong. “Arrogant Irish prick,” she muttered.
“Oh! That’s hardly ladylike language, me darlin’.”
“I never said I was a lady.”
He grinned and spread his arms across the back of the futon. “Is that so?”
She blushed and quickly added, “I don’t usually talk like that, but you deserved it.”
He laughed. “Perhaps you’re right. I’ll try to be less—what was it you said? Ah, disgustin’, I believe.”
“Good. And while you’re at it, maybe you could try to be less arrogant too.”
He crossed his long legs at the ankles. “That’s unlikely. Where I come from, a little arrogance is a positive trait. We call it self-confidence.”
“Oh, is that what it is? I thought it was overconfidence, conceit, and false pride.”
His big hand pressed his broad chest. “You wound me, luv.”
“I’m not your love or your darling. Let’s get that straight right now.” She crossed her arms and tried to look tough. The smattering of freckles across her turned-up nose made that a difficult task, and she knew it.
So did he, apparently. He just continued to grin at her, his green eyes twinkling mischievously.
“Why don’t you come and sit next to me? We should get to know each other if we’re to be livin’ together.” He patted an empty spot on the futon. He hadn’t left much room on either side, and she suspected that was on purpose.
She made a noise of repulsion and stared to her left. With no retort coming to mind, she shuffled into the bathroom and locked the door. She had to get some of those muse powers—and soon. Sure, she could have groceries delivered, but she’d prefer to pick the freshest items herself. She was used to being trapped in small spaces, but off the clock, she loved the feeling of being in an open space all her own.
She could barely breathe in Rory’s presence, but the enclosed space wasn’t entirely responsible. The h
andsome, infuriating Irishman filled the room with his presence and took her breath away.
Then Amber remembered something. When she met Brandee’s husband, he’d introduced himself by first and last name. Maybe he’s in the phone book. But she’d left her phone in her purse in the bedroom.
Panic seized her. Rory wouldn’t invade my privacy by going into my purse, would he?
She tore out of the bathroom and was relieved to see he was still on the futon. Whew. As soon as she grabbed her purse off a hook in the bedroom closet, she glanced through the contents. Everything seemed to be there.
Now, how would she explain needing her purse in the bathroom? Aha! Two can play the gross-out game.
Chuckling, she slung the purse over her shoulder and returned to the bathroom. “I needed something important. Something I use on a monthly basis.”
He laughed. “You didn’t even have to hint at it, me darlin’. I have sisters. You may think that’ll put me off, but it won’t a bit. Now, go take care of the responsibility Mother Nature gave you.”
Hmmm…Mother Nature. Interesting that he referred to her, specifically. Amber hoped the deity wasn’t too hard to reach. If she didn’t take this job… Her posture sagged. Nothing was going to discourage this stubborn Irishman.
“Why do you want this place so badly?” she asked.
“Because it feels like the right fit for me and me family. What’s your reason?”
She didn’t answer him—just humphed and shut the door.
Why did she want it so badly? Sure, she’d always wanted to live in the beautiful, historic Back Bay area. She’d grown up in the suburbs, but they were meant for families. This area was full of young, urban professionals. Okay, so that could mean a yuppie, but she really didn’t care. Someday she wanted to marry a well-paid guy and transition to being a dink—short for “dual income, no kids.”
This was the perfect area to meet someone of that caliber—when she was ready to date again. At the moment, she was still smarting over the pilot she’d dated for about a year. They’d only flown together a few times, but on the last flight, she’d overheard his outrageous flirting with one of the other flight attendants. He hadn’t realized she was listening, and when she confronted him, he admitted to having a little something on the side. Correction…a lot of little somethings.