Crescent Legacy, Nicole Taylor [best 7 inch ereader .txt] 📗

“More than a witch going to a costume party dressed as a witch?

“You have a point, but I’m not fallin’ for one of your schemes.”

“Schemes?” I gasped, pretending to be mortally wounded.

“Your scheme to make fun of me.”

“Never.”

Smiling, I felt lighter than I had in days. This party was just what we needed to give us a break from the chaos that was being a Crescent Witch. One night without worry was heavenly. Maybe I would even get lucky downstairs by the end of it.

Glancing around the room, I sipped at my cider as I checked out all the costumes. Everyone had gone to a great deal of effort, even with Sean McKinnon’s half-assed attempt at a scarecrow, and Boone’s complete lack of being a pretend fox.

“Ah, there’s Mark Ashlyn,” Boone said. “I want to talk to him.”

“Go,” I said. “I’m a big girl.”

He made a face and melted into the crowd. Setting my cider on a table, I looked for Maggie. Spying her across the pub, I laughed as I saw her dancing with Sean McKinnon, then twirling away and into Roy’s arms. Cheeky old buggers.

A chill traveled down my spine, and I tensed, my gaze meeting a pair of blue eyes. No, it couldn’t be. My spidey sense was tingling to the point it felt like all my extremities had pins and needles.

Fae.

Focusing on the man, the air shimmered around him, and I sprang into action. Moving across the room, I zeroed in on the guy—a man I’d never seen before dressed in a leprechaun costume—and backed him into a corner.

“How dare you come here,” I said, my voice low and full to bursting with a warning. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t melt your brains out.”

“You know why I’m here,” he said, his eyes shimmering from human to fae. One second they were ordinary blue, then his entire eyeball was like iridescent crystal. Weirdo. “While you were enjoying the snow, she returned.”

The snowstorm? Carman must’ve used the snow as a cover for her return to Ireland. That meant the ritual worked after all, and the fae before me… Deep fried shit on a stick! He was a scout.

My hand shot out, and I dug my fingers into his forearm. There was no way in hell I was letting him out of here alive, not when he’d been snooping and testing my defenses.

“Do you really want to use your magic in front of all these innocent humans?” he asked, his lip curling.

“Don’t threaten me.” I allowed a small sliver of magic to heat my hand. It got hotter and hotter until I could hear the sound of sizzling over the music.

The fae’s expression twitched, giving away the fact he was in pain. I hoped he was stuck with my handprint seared into his flesh for eternity.

“There’s nothing you can do, witch. All that awaits you is death.”

“Then why don’t you do something about it, huh? You could end this all right now.”

The fae scowled, and I knew it had no power over me. The only thing that could end right now was him. I had a hold of it, and all it would take was a single thought to end its life.

I smirked and let it go. “You know what I can do, but that’s not the half of it. That? That was an appetizer.”

The fae cradled his arm against his chest and bared his pointy teeth at me.

“You’re an attractive lot,” I said, digging in the preverbal boot. “I’m guessing you’re an Unseelie, aka a dark fairy. Desperate for power, desperate for fear, desperate to get through the doorways. Just all round desperate. You won’t win. Ever. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.”

His eyes flared, and he tore through the crowd, practically breaking down the door as he went.

“What was that?” Boone asked, rushing to my side.

“Fae.” I went after the pointy-toothed fairy, brushing aside a plastic skeleton and a stumbling Sean McKinnon as I went.

Outside, the street was empty, and I cursed.

“Why did I have to let him go?” I exclaimed as Boone prowled along the side of the road. “I had my hand on him.” I could’ve held him for questioning…or something.

“You let him go?” Boone asked with a grimace.

“What was I supposed to do?” I exclaimed. “Melt him into a fairy puddle in front of the entire village? I know I’m wearing an ironic costume, but exposing the fact that I’m a witch would’ve been the worst thing I could’ve done.” I let out a frustrated cry. It echoed along the empty road, the little hawthorn absorbing some of the magic I’d expelled along with it.

“Skye,” Boone said warily. “What did he say to you?”

“The snowstorm the other week,” I began, my heart filling with dread right up to the flood marker. “It was cover.”

“Cover for what?” It came out uncertain like he already knew but didn’t want to believe. Of course, he knew. Boone was clued up about these things. It couldn’t be anyone else.

“Carman,” I said. “Carman’s in Ireland.”

“Cac,” he cursed. “The ritual…”

“I burned a calling card into that fairy’s arm,” I drawled, not wanting to think about the time I almost bled to death. “Did you see how he ran away from me? Let’s see how she deals with that.”

“You what?”

“I burned him with my magic.” I was confused. “Wasn’t I supposed to be able to do that?”

“I don’t think so,” he replied, staring down the road. “I don’t think you were supposed to touch him at all.”

“What makes you say that? I’ve touched fae before.” Namely, the one who’d been impersonating my ex-boyfriend, Alex. “I’ve melted them into puddles of fairy juice.”

“Because I didn’t sense him,” Boone said. “Not at all. To me, he was human. He must’ve had some kind of barrier spell…one you burned right through.”

I held up my hand and stared at it. Did this have something to do with the purple monkey typewriter? I was doing something