Page 37 of The Scald Crow
“But you’re flesh and bone. You’re a woman.” His words carried a note of wonderment. His eyes appreciated my every curve, enhanced by the clinging velvet.
I tossed my head and pouted my lips. Two could play that game.
“Well, I’ll take the compliment.” Is that what I was? What did I know about the banshee? Who was the legendary woman from popular Irish myth?
I visualized the times I’d blurted prophecies to unwelcoming ears. In those moments, did my essence travel to where it was needed? No, no way, not the same. That would require powerful magic.
I rose to my feet, scanning the distant parking lot, searching for the cosmic blue family van.
“TheBean-Sidhecame when my father died. If you don’t believe me, you can ask her.” He nodded toward his mother, a slight woman shrouded in black, surrounded by mourners. “The house shook. TheBean-Sidhekeened. Wailing cries, like fingernails on a blackboard. She went outside thinking a storm was coming. When she returned, Da was gone. You were that storm, Calla.”
I recalled our first touch. He clutched my forearm, propelling me to safety and saving me from falling. I could not account for those lost moments. I closed my eyes, calling upon the sensation to return and hit the wall.
“You remember, don’t you?” His rumbling voice demanded an answer.
“No. I don’t remember anything.” I glared at him. Where did I go? Those moments were lost to me.
“Your eyes flashed silver. You told me I was too late. You left me, Calla. Only aBean-Sidhe—a faerie woman possessing extraordinary powers—could do that.” He lifted my wrist, drawing his thumb along the center of my palm. His gaze narrowed. “Your cut has healed.”
“What are you saying? I’m a shapeshifter? That I traveled in ethereal form to your family’s home. That I, Calla Sweet, sing the song of death? How is that even possible?” I clenched my fingers into a fist, refusing to acknowledge the abrasion that bled profusely and healed seamlessly overnight.
I laughed, but my laughter sounded hollow. It was all I could do not to cry. If what he said was true, I wasn’t crazy. I was something else entirely. I gathered my skirt and walked away.
“Calla, wait. Please, listen. I want to apologize.” He dropped his hands to his sides, his expression sheepish.
“Excuse me?” I lifted my chin, gazing into an azure ocean. A warm breeze caressed my face. The mountain crept closer, the mist calling me. “No. No. No.” I huffed a loud breath, pushing the salacious fantasy six feet under.
“What you said about Ciarán blew me away.” He seemed not to notice the heat flooding my face.
“Okay.” I bit my lower lip, stilling the hum.
“Which does not justify my behavior. I dropped by your place uninvited. It was inappropriate. I hope you won’t hold it against me.” He spoke in slow, melodic syllables, soothing my mind.
“Look, I have to go.” I combed the parking lot for Niall.
“I would like to start over,” he said in a voice that would charm most women.
“Start what over?” I raised my eyebrows, reminding myself of one obvious fact. I was not like most women, and even though I was falling in lust with him, I would not be his fool.
“Give me a chance, Calla. I’m not a bad guy.” His rugged features framed in copper were bewitching.
“Why do you think there’s a ‘you and me?’ Did I ever give you that impression?” I snapped. The sooner I rid myself of Colm O’Donnell, the better.
“Something happened, Calla. We have a connection. I don’t understand, but I want to.” He extended his palm, his eyes beckoning me to go with him.
“Do you have any admirers I should know about?” I took one step backward, unwilling to admit he was right.
“I dream of you, Calla. It’s the strangest thing. I feel I’ve known you forever.” He loosened his tie, his face turning a pretty shade of pink.
“So, let’s get this straight. I’m the scary banshee, yet you want to be what? Friends?” Heat tore through me—dizzying heat.
“TheBean-Sidheis a source of pride for many families. Some say only the ancient clans have them.” A lick of longing tore through his gaze.
“Really?” My stomach coiled. The edges blurred, and I feared I might pass out.
“She warns of coming demise. She doesn’t cause death. The way I see it, she’s the most industrious of the Tuatha Dé. She has a job to do, and she does it well. It could be worse. You could be aLeannán Sídhe, the Faerie lover who takes men’s souls.” He shrugged, bristles shadowing the underside of his jaw.
Silence rippled between us.
