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

“You’ll never guess what happened!”

“Mairead… You’re…” I made a face. “Happy.”

“So?”

“Aren’t Goths meant to be mopey?”

“Pfft.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s a stereotype.”

“Are you sure? Because when you wear black lipstick and smile—”

“I made up with me parents,” she blurted.

“Huh?” When did that happen? I was such a good guardian—forgetting to make sure she wasn’t getting high on paint fumes, feeding her microwave meals, making her do her own laundry, and not even knowing what was going on in her life. Superb parenting.

“They want me to come home,” she went on. “For Christmas, then…” She shrugged. “I gave them a paintin’ I did. The one of the gyrfalcon in the hawthorn tree outside of Irish Moon.”

“You did another painting?” I frowned. “Man, I’m such a bad parent.”

“No, you’re pretty cool.”

“So you’re moving back?”

She nodded. “They are me parents… Even though they kicked me out.”

“As long as they don’t try to force you to go back to Trinity.”

Mairead shrugged. “I don’t think they understood about me art. Now they’ve seen, I guess they came around. They were disappointed about how I came home…”

I nodded. She couldn’t exactly tell them about being kidnapped by evil fae who mistook her for me, could she? She hadn’t been happy at Trinity, but being snatched off the street had ultimately pushed her into coming back to Derrydun.

“Do they still think I’m the devil incarnate?” I asked, my lips quirking.

She grinned and backed away, weaving between Mary Donnelly and Cheese Wheel Aoife before using Mrs. Boyle as a buffer.

“Mairead!” I stamped my foot. “Don’t you walk away from me, young lady!”

“What’s going on?” Boone asked, appearing beside me.

“Mairead’s moving out.”

“Well, you did ask for a Christmas miracle.”

I gasped and slapped him on the arm.

“Ow.” He rubbed his bicep.

“I’m glad they made up. It was an awful side effect of her kidnapping.”

“See, Skye? Everythin’ is starting to work out.” Boone smiled and guided me to a spot he’d saved for us at the table by the fireplace.

Sliding into a chair, I fiddled with the cutlery as food started to appear. Maggie moved from table to table, laying out platters and jugs. Even Sean McKinnon was giving her a hand and walking more steadily than usual.

“Is Sean…sober?” I asked, leaning toward Boone.

“See?” he said with a wink. “Christmas brings out the best in everyone.”

I glanced around the pub, taking in everyone’s smiling faces. Roy was wearing a paper hat from the inside of a Christmas cracker. Mary Donnelly was decked out in pink and completely sloshed on mulled wine. Maggie was still flitting between tables, topping up beer glasses and ferrying out bowls of mushy peas. Mairead was sitting between her parents, looking pleased as punch, her black fuzzy Santa hat askew on her head. Fergus was feeding his dog scraps under the table. Even Mrs. Boyle looked as if she had a smile on her face.

An overwhelming pang of despair came over me at the thought of what was coming. How was I supposed to protect them from Carman? If she managed to take the hawthorn and open the doorway… The thought of what might come out of there was the stuff of nightmares. An army of fae just like the scout who’d threatened me at Halloween. Derrydun wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Skye.” Boone placed his hand on my thigh under the table and squeezed. “Don’t dwell on what-ifs.”

“I just…” I trailed off, knowing anything I said would sound lame. I was supposed to be the strong one. I was the last Crescent Witch, the sole member of the most badass coven there ever was. I was meant to know what to do. Watching and waiting didn’t seem like the Crescent thing to do.

“Ever since the craglorn, you’ve been stressin’,” he murmured into my ear. “We can only do what’s in our power.”

“You sound like a broken record,” I drawled.

“Life’s too short,” he murmured. Picking up his glass, he stood and bashed the side with his fork. Ding, ding, ding.

“What are you doing?” I said with a hiss, glancing around uneasily.

“Can I have your attention,” he called out to the room. “I’ve got somethin’ important to say.”

I tugged on his shirt as the din faded to curious murmurings. Mary Donnelly caught my gaze and gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up. All eyes turned our way, and I tugged at Boone more furiously.

“Sit down,” I whispered, trying to smile and glare at the same time. I must’ve looked frightening, especially since I was flushed red with embarrassment. “You can’t tell them…”

But Boone wasn’t listening. I was full-on ready to whoop his ass if he began changing into a silver fox when he started talking. Boone talking? I’d always taken him for ‘the silent and in the corner’ type, not a public speaker.

“Seven months ago, this curious Australian with her smart mouth and uncanny resemblance to her late mother, Aileen, landed in our laps quite unexpectedly. In that seven months, there’ve been untold amounts of chaos, excitement, and scandal,” he said.

“Hear, hear!” Roy bellowed, stamping his foot on the ground much to the amusement of the villagers.

“She’s filled me life with excitement, countless pop culture references that go straight over me head, frightful danger, and unwaverin’ support, and a smack on the back of me head when I’m throwin’ a tantrum. That’s why I cannae bear to be apart from her another day.” Boone turned to me and lowered himself to one knee. “Skye Williams…” He fished about in his pocket—while I tried to get my heart to start beating again—and produced a silver and gold ring. “An bpósfaidh tú mé?” Then in English, he said, “Will ye marry me?”

I dropped my fork, and it clattered to the floor. Fergus’s Jack Russell darted under the table and began gnawing at the choice bit of roast beef I’d been about to put into my mouth when Boone had stood.

“Skye?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes!” I shrieked, almost falling off my chair.

“I told you,” Mary said to Roy. “Spring.”

Boone grasped my face