Blood of Destiny (Witch Fairy #6) (7 page)

“You got it, Ray,” Patrick says as he lifts the coffee pot from its warmer on the back of the bar.  He puts a little more coffee in each of our cups even though neither of us has touched them.

Ray pulls out the stool next to mine, close enough for our legs to touch, and I can feel Kallen tense on the other side of me.  He puts a protective arm around my waist.  If it wouldn’t raise eyebrows with Ray’s friends, I think he would pull me closer to him.

Tilting my head, I look up at the cocky magical being next to me.  Who is he?  Is he the Angel we’re looking for?  Or just some Witch jerk who wants to test me.  I guess we’ll see. I’m not big on waiting, though.  Using the magic I had already pulled, I sweep his chair out from under him.  He tumbles backwards onto the floor with a loud thud; followed by laughter from everyone in the room except Kallen and me.

“What’s the matter, Ray.  Nippin’ too much at the bottle today?” Patrick asks.

Ray stands up and wipes himself off.  With grin still in place, he says, “I think you spiked my ale today, Patrick.”  He rights his stool and sits down again.  He looks over and gives me a wink, which makes Kallen’s arm tighten around me.  Okay, he’s either the Fallen Angel we’re looking for, or he’s a Witch with a really laid back personality.

Patrick throws the rag he’s been using to wipe the bar in a bin and says to Kallen, “Migh’ as well get started.  The sooner I teach ye the ropes, the sooner I can ge’ down to Nan’s.”

I scrunch my brows together.  “I’m not complaining, but you just met us and you’re okay leaving us in charge of your bar?”

Patrick laughs from his belly.  “Lass, ye’re stuck on an island in the Atlantic Ocean.  Not many places for ye to hide if ye get sticky fingers.”

Good point.  Even though technically, we’re not stuck here.  I smile up at him.  “Okay, show me how to pour a beer.”  My first job is in Ireland where I’m chasing a Fallen Angel because I didn’t want anyone to know I had sex.  How strange is my life going to get?  I groan inwardly.  Every time I think something like that, things get worse.  Maybe I’ll be lucky this time.  Probably not.

Half an hour later, Kallen is hauling heavy stuff up and down the cellar stairs and I’ve served three ales to the old guys at the bar.  I’ve poured six, though.  It’s a lot trickier than it looks to pour ale into a pint glass without it all foaming up and spilling out.  Patrick has gone to see ‘his Nan,’ as he calls her.  Ray has simply enjoyed the show from the bar stool that I’m tempted to make him fall off from again.

“Tell me more about this long lost relative of yours,” Ray says, as I attempt to pour another drink.

I scowl in his direction.  “Why do you want to know?”  Yes, I’m defensive, but my hands are going to smell like beer for the rest of my life if I keep soaking them like this.  I don’t think it’s a smell I could get used to.  Ever.

He shrugs.  “Perhaps I know him.”

Yeah, because it’s probably him.  “Okay, we’re looking for someone who has similar…talents as we do.” 

Ray’s brows lift.  “And what talents would those be?”  Then he winks at me.  “Whatever they are, I believe I would like to discover more of your talents.”

I narrow my eyes in his direction.  “Do you like sitting on the stool better than sitting on the floor?” 

A couple of the old guys down the bar cackle.  “Watch out, Ray.  She’s a feisty lass,” one of them says.

Ray’s eyes haven’t left mine.  Wow, I still can’t get over the color of blue his eyes are.  “That she is, Seamus.  That she is.”

A loud thump makes me jump.  Kallen just dropped a keg onto the floor with unnecessary force.  I give him a questioning look and all I get in return is a sour one.  What’s his deal?

I don’t get a chance to ask him right away, because the door opens and three guys come in complaining about the bitter cold.  Which has travelled as far as the bar already since they are taking their time closing the door.  Now I know why Patrick yelled at us when we came in.

Two of the guys are probably around my dad’s age or older.  The third is probably around Ray’s age, maybe a little younger.  With all the red and reddish blonde hair around here, there’s no denying we’re in Ireland.  The younger guy is tall and has a body that was probably once solid muscle, but may have turned a bit to flab in the last couple of years.  His nose has been broken at least once, and his teeth have enough gaps to resemble a slot machine.  His hair is cut into a stark, military cut and the scars on his face and neck make me not want to know how he got them. 

The next little while is taken up by me having to explain who I am, getting them their ale, and listening to them laugh at me as I pour them.  When the third glass foams over, I slam it down on the bar.  That’s it.  I’ve had enough.  I put my hands on my hips and give all the men in the bar a hard look.  “You know, I’d probably learn a lot faster if you’d give me helpful pointers instead of just laughing at me.”

“I’d be willin’ to help ye’,” the youngest of the newcomers says.  I get the feeling that he’d like to help me with a lot of things.  Things that don’t include pouring ale. 

“She’s getting the hang of it on her own,” Kallen practically growls from behind me, making me jump a little bit.  Last I knew he was doing something downstairs.

“Betta watch out, Tad.  She’s a married lass.”

The one named Tad whistles.  “That’s a dern shame, it is.”  Then he winks at me.  “If ye eva need somethin’ on the side, ye give me a call.”

Kallen probably looks strange as he tries to bolt forward.  Why?  Because he runs into an invisible wall of magic and it looks like it hurt.  I’m thinking I might want to put one around myself now, because I’m pretty sure I’m next on his kill list for putting up the first one.  Turning my back on him, which is stupid in his current frame of mind, I say to Tad, “Would you appreciate someone saying that to your wife right in front of you?”

Tad straightens himself up and he gets a cocky grin going.  “If ye’r man ain’t able to speak for hi’self on the subject, I don’t think I’m in any real danga.”

Wow.  This guy is itching for a fight.  I look back at Kallen.  Yeah.  So is he.  I imagine how I’d feel if he did this to me.  I turn back to Tad and shake my head.  “You really should have quit while you were ahead.”  I drop the wall of magic that’s holding Kallen in place.

Chapter 7

Kallen is over the bar in a flash.  I’ve never seen anyone move that fast without magic before.  Impressive.  Tad seems to think so, too, by the surprised, and somewhat nervous, look on his face.  “You were saying?” Kallen snarls.

Tad stands up.  One of the guys at his table pulls on his sleeve.  “Son, leave it be.  Ye’ve started enough trouble since ye been here.”

Tad shakes the man’s hand off.  Standing in front of Kallen, he still looks tall and scary.  There’s not a doubt in my mind, though, who’s going to win this confrontation.  Ray, on the other hand, looks like he’s ready to offer one of them assistance.  I’m not sure which one.

Tad pulls his right arm back and throws a punch at Kallen, who easily dodges it simply by leaning back.  Then, in a surprise move, he uses Tad’s momentum from the failed punch to send him sprawling to the side when he hooks his ankle with his foot and tugs.  Tad just misses a chair as he falls to the floor.  Scrambling to his feet, he tries for a left jab.  Kallen catches his fist and tugs, causing Tad to fall on the other side.  This time, he’s not as lucky.  His lip catches a chair.  The chair wins.  Blood is now gushing from his lip and Kallen has barely even touched him. 

Wiping some of the blood from his chin, Tad pushes himself to his feet again.  He staggers a little bit, but he makes it up.  His lip is turning purple under the blood.  That’s going to look ugly tomorrow.  I bet he doesn’t go with the chair story when people ask him about it.

Kallen has been sparring with Dagda and Kegan his whole life, so this is nothing for him.  He hasn’t even broken a sweat.  He’s standing with his arms across his chest and waits patiently for Tad to make his next move.  I’m really proud of Kallen at the moment.  He’s going to win this without ever throwing a punch, which is good because I don’t like the idea of him fighting over me. 

A stool scraping catches my attention.  Ray has pushed back from the bar and he stands up.  Walking to Tad, he puts his hand on the bleeding man’s shoulder, getting some blood on his thumb in the process, and says, “It’s been a good show of your skills, but wouldn’t you like to sit back down and enjoy your ale with your father and his friend?”  I roll my eyes.  Yeah, just like that the angry Neanderthal man is going to give up and sit back down. 

Huh.  He does.  Ray is speaking to him quietly as he leads him to his seat.  With a final pat on the man’s shoulder, and the offer of a napkin for his bleeding lip, Ray walks back to the bar.  He gives Kallen a smile of respect and Kallen gives him an appreciative nod.  Wow.  Two miracles in thirty seconds.  The guy must be an Angel.

“Do you stir up this much trouble wherever you go?” Ray asks, as he sits back down.

I chuckle.  “What, this?  This is nothing compared to the havoc I usually cause.”

Kallen is walking back around the bar in lieu of jumping over it again.  “She speaks the truth,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.  I stick my tongue out at him.

“Well, lass, there hasn’t been this much excitement in here for a long time.  Whatcha puttin’ in that ale – steroids?” one of the toothless men asks me and then he and his cronies cackle.  I can’t help a small smile myself.

Kallen comes around the bar and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before heading back down the cellar stairs.  Apparently, he’s confident that Tad isn’t going to hit on me anymore. 

The next few hours are uneventful.  Tad’s father hauled him out by his collar after the non-fight with Kallen.  I’m not sure which of them was more embarrassed – the father because his son made a spectacle of himself or Tad for the whole situation.  The old guys have filled us in on everything going on in the small village.  I now know stuff about people I wouldn’t want to know if I actually knew who they were.  Some things just shouldn’t be talked about.  Apparently, colon health becomes extremely important as you age.

Kallen asked them questions about the island.  We’re on a place called Tory Island off the coast of Ireland.  For the most part, it’s an artist community and that’s who lives here year round.  During the tourist season, people come to view the ruins and other attractions, as well as purchase art.

At eight o’clock, it’s finally time to close up.  I’m glad it’s not tourist season.  We’d be open until eleven, then.  I say we as if this is a real job.  Amazing how I’ve learned to acclimate to my surroundings recently.

The old guys totter out with promises to see us bright and early tomorrow.  Patrick made it clear when he left that we wouldn’t be seeing him until morning, either.  I’m still trying to keep that visual out of my mind.  Now, the only other person in the bar is Ray.  He’s been nursing an ale for a long time, so I figure he was just biding his time until the others were gone.

“So,” Ray begins when the last person leaves.  “What brings a Fairy and…” he looks at me curiously, “you, to Tory Island.”

His words take a second to click in my head.  He doesn’t know who I am.  I think I want to keep it that way.  “I believe we’re here to find you.  Unless there’s another magical person on this tiny little island?”

Ray smiles.  “I believe I would like to know what your interest is before I answer that question.”

“How did you know that I am a Fairy?” Kallen asks.  Oh, yeah.  Most Witches wouldn’t be able to tell since Fairies haven’t been in this realm for centuries.

Ray shrugs.  “Fairy magic feels different than Witch magic.”

“But, there haven’t been Fairies here for hundreds of years.  How would you know that?” I ask.

“I will answer your question if you answer mine.  What are you?”

I really love being referred to as an object instead of a person.  I give him a dirty look.  “I’m a refrigerator, isn’t it obvious?”

Ray chuckles.  “Okay, let me rephrase. 
Who
are you?  Your magic is similar in many ways to others I’ve met, yet it is different.  I don’t know how you’re doing it, but my suspicion is impossible.”

“Impossible how?” Kallen asks, trying to push him to confirm
our
suspicions.

He looks back and forth between us.  Whatever he sees somehow makes him decide to open up to us.  “Why are you seeking me?”

“Because I owe Ambriel a favor.  He asked me to find you and two others,” I admit.  No sense in dancing around the subject. 

Rays brows meet his hairline.  “Ambriel sent you?”  He shakes his head.  “I’m afraid that brings to mind a few more questions.”

I look at the clock on the wall behind Ray’s head.  I want to move this along because I really don’t want to sleep here tonight.  “Okay, first answer mine.  Are you a Fallen Angel?”

“I see I am at a disadvantage.  You know all about me, yet I have not learned anything about you.  What is your ancestry?”

Do I tell him?  The question must be clear on my face because Kallen gives me a slight nod when I look up at him.  Fine.  “I’m a Witch Fairy.”

Ray almost falls off his stool on his own this time.  “The prophecy has come to be.”  Now, his face falls.  “And my time here must come to an end.”

I scrunch my face up in confusion.  “You want to be here?”

I get an eyebrow raise on that.  “Why would I not enjoy my time here?”

I’m still confused.  “I thought Angels didn’t fall by choice anymore.”

He chuckles again.  “Angels no longer Fall to exert their influence over humans.  Some choose to Fall as a…vacation, of sorts.”

Right.  Or you get your wings stripped off and then they boot you out because you did something you weren’t supposed to do.  But, the more I argue with him about this, the longer we’ll be here.  “Okay, whatever.  I’m supposed to take you back home to wait for Ambriel.”

Another eyebrow raise.  “I see.  And where might this home be?”

I bite my lip.  Nowhere if I can’t convince Isla to let him stay.  “In the Fairy realm.”

He studies me for a moment.  “Ambriel told you nothing more?”

I shake my head.  “No.  We didn’t exactly hit it off, so the conversation was pretty brief.”

“Yet you agreed to do favors for him?  Interesting.”

Kallen clears his throat.  I think he’s trying to convince me not to tell Ray why.  I’m with him on it this time.  It’s none of Ray’s business.  “It’s complicated.  So, are you ready to go?”

He doesn’t chuckle this time.  He laughs.  It’s more of an ‘at me’ thing than a ‘with me’ thing.  I’m liking him less by the second.  “Just forget about the life I have here?  Because you come along and tell me an Angel has requested my presence?”

Well, yeah.  That’s how this is supposed to work, right?  I shake my head.  Good lord, I am naïve.  I stop myself before I smack my forehead in stupidity.  “I guess I didn’t look at it that way.”

I look up at Kallen and he gives me an ‘I told you this wasn’t going to be easy’ look.  Or, he’s just waiting to hear what I say next.  Probably both.  Turning back to Ray, I say, “Okay, I wasn’t thinking about you having a life you may be enjoying.  How can I convince you to come with us?”

He closes his eyes for a moment.  Opening them again, he says, “I trust Ambriel.  If he says it is time to go home, then I will go.  But, I have some loose ends to tie up here.  I walk Mrs. O’Lory’s dog every morning.  I will need to find a replacement for myself.  I have been commissioned to finish my drawing by the day after tomorrow.  I could probably have it done by tomorrow night.  I also have a cat.  I need to find a home for him.”

He has a cat?  And he walks some woman’s dog?  I have no idea what to think about Ray at the moment.  So, I’m going to focus on the important thing he said.  “Tomorrow night?  You want us to wait here until tomorrow night?”

He looks stubborn now.  “Yes, I do.”

I’m about to tell him no way, when Kallen puts his hand on my shoulder again.  It’s kind of a craps shoot for him whether it works to shut me up or not.  I’m impressed he keeps betting on it.  “What?” I say to him, taking some of my annoyance at Ray out on him.

Instead of answering me, he turns to Ray.  “Tomorrow night will be fine.  Shall we meet here at closing time?”

“What?”  Yes, I sound like my own echo, but one day tending bar has been enough to convince me that it’s not the career for me.  I probably poured all of today’s profits down the drain as I kept spilling the ale.  Patrick should be glad to be rid of me.

Kallen’s annoyed too.  At me.  “It is a reasonable request, Xandra.”

Meaning I’m not being reasonable.  I moan.  Of course, he’s right.  My need for instant gratification has struck again.  Turning to Ray, I say, “Fine.  Tomorrow night at closing.”

He nods slightly.  “Until then.”  Sliding off his bar stool, he gathers his art things from the table he was sitting at when we first arrived, and he lets himself out.

The only good thing about this situation?  I get to spend a night with Kallen completely alone.