Chapter 9
Sean McKinnon was the talk of Derrydun for days after the incident on the roof of Molly McCreedy’s. I didn’t want to be relieved they were no longer talking about me and the real estate agent crashing his car into the creek, not considering what it took to have it knocked from the top spot, but I was. Just a little.
Maggie convinced me not to worry about the guy, so I didn’t. Sean had become the town drunk in the wake of his wife’s death, and it seemed like that was the way it was. I didn’t agree with it at all. Something was going to happen, and my gut told me it wouldn’t be anything nice. Not unless he stopped drinking himself into an early grave.
The next morning, I drew the Tower again from Aileen’s deck of golden tarot cards. Relieved it wasn’t the Nine of Swords, I took it as a sign things were going back to normal. I’d deviated from the track for a few days, and now I was back on the path to rebuilding. To my surprise, I was actually getting into the whole tarot thing, so much so that I’d put money into the till for the book I’d borrowed and started scribbling notes in the margins. Maybe, just maybe, this was what would connect me with my absentee dead mother. The mother who was still a mystery with her crystal shop and weird spell book under the floorboards.
Still upset with how Boone had spoken to me, I spent my day off from Irish Moon as far away from Derrydun as my legs would take me. Without a car—I’d returned the rental weeks ago—I was limited to my own two feet to get me around.
I went to see the tower house first.
Sean McKinnon had said Aileen was related to the woman who lived here, Mary Byrne, who was burned at the stake for allegedly being a witch. I didn’t know about that, but it was still an absurd notion. When the ruins didn’t reveal any more secrets than it had the first day I’d explored, I set off on the path that led toward the forest on the other side of the hill.
I’d never been this far from Derrydun before. The further my feet took me, the more I felt like there were a thousand and one pairs of eyes just outside my field of vision. They were all watching me, the strange Australian girl who still felt like an interloper, tread through the woods.
Brilliant green ferns blanketed the ground between moss-encrusted trees, and the pink and red of wild fuchsia broke up the earthy tones. It was beautiful out here, but I felt exposed. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around myself and glanced back and forth nervously.
It wasn’t long before a clearing opened up in front of me, and my mouth opened in awe as I saw a giant gnarled tree towering over the forest. Approaching, I studied the leaves and branches trying to figure out what kind it was. It reminded me of the hawthorn in the village, and I decided it was another. A really old one by the looks of it.
It was massive. It would take at least two or three of me to encircle the trunk with open arms, though now I was up close, it wasn’t that much taller than the woods around it. Short and squat for its trunk size was an apt description.
A low growl hummed behind me in the stillness, and I spun around, my heart twisting with fright. A gray and white wolf stood in the center of the clearing, its fangs bared in a menacing snarl. Its golden gaze was locked directly on me, and it looked hungry. The saliva dripping from razor sharp fangs kind of hungry.
Stumbling, my back hit the trunk of the hawthorn. Where had the beast come from? No one had warned me about wolves… Boone hadn’t… There was no time to debate why.
Watching the wolf, I knew if I fled, it would give chase, and there was no way I would be able to outrun it. It was twice the size of a German Shepard, and its teeth were longer and sharper than I’d ever seen. I was so screwed.
My palms grasped the gnarled trunk of the hawthorn as I stared it down. I was going to be eaten on my day off. Just my luck.
“What are you waiting for?” I whispered. “You know I can’t run.”
Its haunches tensed as it readied itself to leap, and I flung my arms up in front of my face to protect myself. Then the beast launched itself forward, and I screamed.
In the moment right before death, wasn’t your life supposed to flash before your eyes? That was what everyone said, but I didn’t see anything. Just the glowing eyes of the wolf as it came right for me, its sharp teeth dripping with saliva. Boy, he was sure hungry today.
Just as I was certain I was going to become the main course—scared Australian girl du jour—a flash of red streaked through the clearing and slammed into the side of the wolf. The beast let out a surprised yelp and tumbled to the side.
Scrambling backward, I gasped as I saw a russet-colored fox sinking its teeth into the wolf’s neck. What the hell was going on here?
The fox clamped down its jaws and shook, but the wolf was stronger. It rolled and flung the little creature across the clearing before leaping toward it. Its teeth chomped down on the little guy’s back leg, causing him to yelp in pain.
A pang of despair tore through my heart at the sight of my rescuer—no matter how odd a rescuer it was—and I hesitated. I knew I should run while the going was good, but I couldn’t leave the fox behind. Damn, my bleeding heart.
Looking frantically around the
