A Magic Redemption Page 4

  A quiet sigh escaped her lips. His tongue slipped inside teasing, tasting, and dancing with hers. He hoped to convey what his words had failed to do. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned into him. He reveled in her curves pressed against him. Slowly, he released her and backed away. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

  “Thank you.” She took the keys from her pocket and unlocked the door. “See you tomorrow.”

  He waited for her to turn on the lights and close the door before he trudged down the streets to the pub. He started to insert the key into the lock. The door flew open and his best friend, Quinn, stood in the entrance.

  “You look like you could use a friend. You know, if you keep hanging around that girl, people are going to talk.” Quinn joked. “You haven’t fallen—” He glanced at his friend again. “Oh, no the ranks of the eligible men have decreased by one tonight. ’Tis a sad day for womankind,” Quinn quipped following him to the bar. “Hey, can a guy get a pint around here?”

  “No…we’re closed.” He punched his friend’s shoulder as he swung up the pass through. “I’ve no idea what you’d be talking about. Too much of the drink tonight?” He picked up the bucket, filled it with hot water, and plopped the mop in it. Water splashed all over the floor.

  “Naw, it’s written all over your face. What’s the matter? This one won’t succumb to the Shaughnessy charms, laddie?” Quinn leaned his elbows on the bar and watched as Gavin mopped the floor behind the bar.

  “They’ve never failed me, yet.” He shot back wringing the mop out, pouring the dirty water out, and filling the bucket again. “What brings you around here so late? Bridget kick your sorry arse out again?”

  “Oh, that’ll be the day. My woman loves my arse.” He jumped off the bar stool, did a little jig, and sat down again. “She’s all excited about going shopping with the girls next week. Chattering on the phone with Katie. You know—girl stuff. But the way you were working that muscle in your jaw all evening, thought something was bothering you.”

  “Bollocks to that. I’m fine.”

  Quinn leveled his gaze at his friend. “Sure you are. Don’t want to talk about it, all right. Tell me it’s none of my business. But don’t lie to me. We’ve been friends way too long for that.”

  “Okay. It’s none of your business,” Gavin said sharply.

  Both hands in the air, Quinn leaned back. “Okay boyo, whatever you say. You know where to find me.” He backed off the bar stool and started toward the door.

  Water sloshed over the rim, when he shoved the mop into the bucket. He tossed the pass through up and walked to his friend. “Quinn, sorry. I’ve a lot of things on my mind tonight. When I get them all sorted out, maybe I’ll bend your ear a bit.”

  “No worries.” He gestured dismissively. “Don’t want to keep my lass waiting too long.” He waggled his eyebrows. “See ya later.”

  “Okay.” Finished cleaning the pub, he loaded the glasses in the dishwasher and turned it on. He paused for a beat, then poured a pint, flipped the lights out, and walked to the kitchen. Kicking the chair out from under the table, he plopped down in the seat, leaned back, and stretched out his legs beneath the table.

  Taking a sip of his beer, he licked the foam off his upper lip. What a mess. Why did I ever agree to those bloody terms of Synn’s. He knew why. But he wasn’t ready to admit it to himself or anyone else. Water sloshed inside the dishwasher as it ran through its cycles, and he nursed his pint—thinking. Finally, he heard the dishwasher click off. He finished his pint, considered building another, and decided against it. Ambling over to the sink, he washed and dried his mug, turned out the lights, closed and locked the door.

  Arriving home, he kicked off his boots and moseyed over to the hearth. He’d banked the fire before leaving this morning. Taking a poker from the stand, he jabbed at the ash. Nothing. He walked to the neatly stacked wood, yanked a couple logs from the pile, and tossed them in the fireplace. A fine plumb of ash rose and scattered over the hearth. Crumpling up paper, he lit the corner before throwing it onto the logs. A tiny spark flamed and died. Aw hell. He flipped the heater on and stomped up the stairs to bed.

  Sleep was elusive. He tossed and turned until the wee hours of the morning. When he finally fell into a troubled slumber, he had nightmares of Baltizar kidnapping Synn as he stood paralyzed unable to help. Her terrible screams sent shivers down his spine as she begged Baltizar to let her die. When he awoke, his pajamas were soaked with sweat, his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.

  The clock read four in the morning as he grabbed his phone off the nightstand. When his feet touched the cold floor, he winced, then leaned over and felt under the bed for his slippers. He wiggled his feet into them, wanting so bad to hear her voice. Know she was all right. But she wouldn’t be happy if he called her now. Besides, how could he explain why he called at this ungodly hour?

  He padded to the bathroom, turned on the shower, let the room fill with steam, undressed, and stepped inside. The warm water cascading over his body relaxed his bunched muscles, cleared his mind from adrenalin overload caused by the nightmares. I need to have a conversation with Bruce or Tristian—Find out exactly… Not a good idea. I’m not on the best terms with either and Tristian is plain scary. Need another avenue of information. Angie?

  Flight always had a way of settling his nerves. He picked up a small bundle of clothes and stepped out the door. The edges of his human form blurred like a trick of light, and his gryphon took over. One push up from the ground and he was soaring. Midway to his destination, he hovered and dropped the bundle of clothes in a clump of trees.

  With every beat of his wings, he flew higher and higher. Sometimes, he never wanted to return to land. So much easier to glide along in the dusky sky, but the sun rose and the chance of him being spotted grew. The warmth of the sun on his wings as it peeked over the horizon improved his mood exponentially. He banked left over Ballycotton Cliff Walk. Not a soul to be found. Freedom of soaring above the sea and land made him forget his earthbound problems. With reluctance and several back beats of his tawny wings, he landed on the sandy beach as pinks, oranges, and reds blended together spreading across the horizon.

  With what would appear to most as a shimmer of light, he quickly transformed to human once again. Sprinting to where he left his bundle of clothes, he stopped and dressed quickly. The beach was still deserted as he set out for home.

  She danced inside the fringe of his conscious as he increased his pace, inhaling deeply the fresh sea air, and pushed her to the corner of his mind to be dealt with later. The memory of last night’s kiss seared across his mind. The warmth of her gentle curves pressed against him. Aww shit. His body reacted to the memory. Lost in his thoughts, he’d covered more ground than intended.

  Looking up just in time, he avoided a collision with a couple walking along the beach in front of him. He swerved, lost his footing, and crashed down on the rocky beach, striking his knee on a sharp stone ripping a large hole in his new jeans. Blood poured from the jagged cut soaking his pants and dotting the golden sand with red. Pain ripped through him.

  “You’re injured.” The man reached down grasped a hold of Gavin’s arm, helping him to his feet.

  Brushing the sand from his jeans, he said, “It’s only a scrape. I’m fine.”

  The man slung off his backpack and pulled a first aid kit out. “No, you’re going to need stitches. Can we give you a ride to the hospital?”

  “Not necessary, my house is right up there.” He pointed to the home rising from the rocky coast.

  “Then let me clean and bandage the wound. It’ll only take a minute.”

  “Are you a doctor?”

  “Yes.” He glanced at the woman standing beside him. “We decided to visit Ireland for our tenth anniversary celebration.”

  “And he never goes anywhere without at least a first aid kit.” She laughed sliding a lo
ving glance toward her husband. “It served him well and you too, this time.”

  He limped over to a rock outcropping, eased down, and winced as the doctor dabbed antiseptic on his knee then bandaged it.

  The doctor patted his arm. “That should hold you until you get home.” He stuck out his hand. “Roger Neal and this is my wife, Tara.”

  He clasped the man’s hand smiling. “Nice to meet you. I’m Gavin Shaughnessy. Thanks for patching me up. Sorry I almost mowed you down. My mind was a million miles away from here.”

  “We could tell. That’s why we slowed our pace. You might want to pay more attention while you run.” Roger grinned.

  “Will do. Hey if you get a chance, stop by Shaughnessy’s Pub.” He reached in his pocket, drew out a card, and handed it to Roger. “It’s not far from here. Pints on the house. It’s the least I can do after you kept me from bleeding to death.” He chuckled, glancing down at the wound, a speck of blood seeped through the gauze bandage.

  The doctor took the card. “We might take you up on that tonight.” He turned, waved, and ambled down the beach hand and hand with his wife.

  He stretched his leg and flexed the knee back and forth. The skin around the wound was tender, but it tightened as the healing process had already began. He blew out a breath, relieved the doctor left before an explanation became necessary. Walking up the path to his house, he paused and turned to survey the area. For several moments, he was unable to shake the feeling of being watched.

  Chapter Five

  A Girl’s Day Out

  Synn groaned and rolled over opening one eye. The bright sunlight made her squint. She flexed her arms. They were slow to obey her commands, and the muscles were taut like rubber bands stretched too far. Gingerly, she touched her fingers to her temples massaging in a circular motion to ease the pounding in her head. The disagreements with Gavin over the past week must have caused subconscious thoughts of Baltizar to surface.

  Each nightmare seemed so real. When she woke up, she was damp from sweat, and tears dried on her face. Several times she’d reached for her phone to call Gavin in the wee hours of the morning and thought better of it. Though nightmares had decreased in intensity, getting up and going to work had been difficult with little sleep, but she’d done it.

  The upside was that her arms were starting to get used to hoisting the heavy trays but being on her feet all night…not so much. She’d hope for a good night’s sleep since she had the day off and was going shopping with Bridget and the girls.

  No such luck, the nightmares had returned with a vengeance. She’d gotten up in the middle of the night, fixed herself a cup of the herbal tea that Angie gave her before she and the overlord returned to DC. Whatever was in that concoction always soothed her nerves and let her get back to sleep.

  But this morning—wow. The tea had never had this effect on her before. She suspected hefting the heavy trays nonstop all night at the pub had strained the muscles in her neck and arms. Hesitating for only a beat, she swung her legs off the bed, touched her feet on the floor, and scooted to the bathroom to stand on the comfy bath mat. At least it had a little warmth to it.

  A glance in the mirror and she winced. Her huge aqua eyes were puffy, and dark circles curved under them. She reached for a washcloth, turned on the shower, and waited for the water to get warm. Holding the cloth under the stream, she wrung it out then placed the cloth on her face leaning into its warmth while the water cascaded over her body easing her aching muscles.

  Jeez she was out of shape. The pounding in her head lessened. She washed her hair, lathered, and rinsed off, then stepped out of the shower and toweled off. When she wiped the steam from the mirror, her reflection hadn’t improved. This would never do.

  In the bedroom, she glanced at the clock on the wall. The girls would be here in less than an hour. She couldn’t go out looking like this. What would her new friends think? There was only one choice she’d have to use a glamour. She rubbed her hands together. A soft violet glow passed between her fingers. Her forehead creased. She touched her hands to her face and closed her eyes. Sucking in a breath at the sting of the spell, she slowly opened them and released a breath.

  Another glance in the mirror, her eyes sparkled, the swelling and dark circles were gone. She smiled. This was the first time she’d used magic in several months and hoped it didn’t draw attention to her. A swipe of green eyeshadow, a touch of pink lipstick and she was all set. Now what to wear? With no experience to draw on for a girl’s day out, she swallowed hard and looked at the clock on the nightstand. What if they’ve changed their mind?

  ****

  Half an hour later she was ready. Dressed in a purple V-neck sweater that hung to her hips, blue jeans, and black boots, she blew out a breath and hoped her attire was appropriate. There was a soft knock on the door. “Synn, you ready?” Bridget called out in a cheerful voice. “We’re going to paint the town red.”

  “I’ll be right there!” She rushed to the door, swung it open, and grinned. “Why would we do that? Won’t the shopkeepers be displeased? I don’t have any paint. Do I need some?”

  “Don’t be silly. Have you spent most your life under a rock? It’s an expression. We’re going to have a grand time.”

  “Oh.” She slung her tan bag over her shoulder, locked the door, and dropped the keys in her bag. Bridget grabbed her arm and towed her toward the car where Katie and Colleen were waiting seated in the back seat, grinning like Cheshire cats. Squished between them was an unfamiliar face. She slid into the passenger’s seat, giving a fleeting glance at the new face as Bridget got behind the wheel.

  “Synn, this is Gale Boohar. She was able to get away from her shop and join us today. She owns Pixie Magic a couple of blocks from the pub. Best lotions and herbal remedies in all of Ireland.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. Its secrets have been in my family for centuries. Nice to meet you, Synn.” The tiny woman with bright red hair, freckles, and blue eyes that sparkled with mischief offered her hand.

  A bit unsure, Synn shook it, trying to place the subtle magic signature she detected. It had to be coming from either Colleen or Gale, since it wasn’t apparent at the pub when she’d worked with Bridget. For that matter she’d didn’t notice anything when she’d passed by Colleen that night in the pub. Though she was busy, and the pub had its own aromatic atmosphere, there wasn’t any type of magic signature in the pub that night. She stole another glance at Gale who smiled amicably.

  “First stop, get Synn a pair of comfortable shoes and maybe a few accessories to spice up her wardrobe.” Bridget cackled.

  “My clothes are fine. Aren’t they?” She smoothed the wrinkles in her jeans. Maybe this whole trip was a mistake.

  “Oh, you look great, I love your jumper. Bridget just wants a reason to stop at the lingerie shop in Galway.” Katie snickered.

  “I don’t need any—lingerie,” Synn said uncertainty creeping into her voice.

  Bridget reached over and patted her shoulder. “Oh honey, we all need lingerie to keep those men in our lives interested and wrapped around our fingers.”

  “I don’t have a man in my life. And that works for me,” she said.

  “You couldn’t be more wrong,” Katie piped up from the back seat. “The way Gavin looks at you, it’s a wonder your clothes don’t go up in flames.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just friends. The whole family has been kind to me.” She shifted in her seat, slinging her arm over the back to join in the conversation with Colleen and Katie.

  Colleen shook her head. “In denial that one is.” She jerked her thumb toward Synn.

  Bridget smiled in agreement and continued. “Oh that may be true of Mary and Tim. They are the sweetest people—unless you cross ’em.”

  “Or mess with their family.” Colleen added. “Remember that time you—”

  “Hush Colleen. Don’t go there. Gavin and I weren’t meant to be.”

  “But you sure had the h
ots for him.” Katie laughed fanning her face.

  “Here we are,” Bridget announced her face flushed. “And none too soon.”

  The women piled out of the car. She hung back watching where the women were headed first.

  “Come on.” Katie gave her a little nudge. “The sooner we get your shoes and a few outfits for the pub the sooner we get to the lingerie shop. Then to lunch and wine.” Katie licked her lips.

  “I knew there was a reason I came along.” Gale snickered miming sipping wine.

  Forty-five minutes later, Synn had new sweaters, three pairs of jeans, and two pair of shoes. They were so comfy, she left a pair on and shoved her boots in the box.

  As they walked down the street, Collen asked, “So really Synn, is Gavin off the market?”

  “I already told you—”

  “No, you skirted the issue. Just friends my foot,” Katie scoffed. “Your longing glances at him, when you think no one is looking, tells a different story than you’re trying to feed us. With that bod, he’s gotta be great in bed.” She looked expectantly at her.

  Shit. How am I going to answer that? The heat crept up from her neck to her cheeks, which she covered with her hands.

  “Now that’s enough. We don’t know her well enough to be askin’ those questions. Katie is there a problem with you and Sean? Not getting the job done?”

  “Oh, no…we’re just fine. You know all the rumors about Gavin’s prowess—curious that’s all—” She shrugged. “Never mind, you’re right.” Katie pushed the door open to the Soft & Silky Lingerie shop and held it for the others.

  She enjoyed the light fragrance of perfumes wafting through the air as she and her friends entered the door. With a whoosh and bells tinkling, the door closed behind them.

  “Back again?” The dark-haired saleswoman teased, grinning at Bridget.