“You never needed me help, Skye,” he said with a chuckle. “Besides, I had a pot of gold to keep warm.”
“I knew it!” I jumped from foot to foot. “I told Boone you were a leprechaun.”
“Not so loud.” He hushed me, glancing around nervously.
“Leave him be, Skye. He’s a rascal but a loveable one.”
I turned as Aileen appeared, looking a little frazzled around the edges. When I gave her a look, she nodded.
“It’s done,” she said. “Carman’s Legacy has been stripped, and the painting has been handed over to Aibell and the fae.”
Man, I was glad we’d changed our minds about taking ownership of Carman’s prison. With a bun in the oven, I had more than enough to worry about without her sticking around.
“That’s good to hear,” Robert O’Keefe declared. “Many good wishes to you both.” He glanced at my stomach. “Ah…four.”
“Four?” I screeched.
“Err… Sorry?”
I spun on my heel as Boone appeared through the hubbub of the festival, looking sheepish.
“Twins!” I screeched. Circling my arms around my swollen belly, I scowled at him. “We discussed this!”
“I think we ought to escape,” Aileen said to Robert. “The honeymoon is about to be over.”
“We cannae fight nature,” Boone said with a grimace as they moved away. “I can’t help it if I’m potent.”
Married four months, and knocked up on my wedding night… I couldn’t even think about my growing baby house without breaking out into hives.
I slapped him on the arm and groaned. “I’m going to have to push two out at the same time now. Thanks a lot!”
“I’m pretty sure they come out one at a time,” he quipped, earning himself another slap. “It’s a blessin’, Skye. After everythin’ the Crescents have been through, we have a future now.”
“I know,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder. “It’s just that I know how much of a handful they’re going to be. I was a bloody terror, and I didn’t have my magic!”
“We’ll be all right,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around me. “They’ll have an entire village dotin’ on them.”
“You’re always right,” I said. “It’s infuriating.”
He chuckled and kissed the top of my head. “I love you, Skye.”
“I love you, too.”
The Crescent Legacy would live on, not only in our children and the hawthorns but in everyone here. Our story would become song, history, legend, and myth. That was how these things worked, after all.
The hawthorn in the middle of the road was laden with ornaments and envelopes filled with memories of the lost and wishes for the future. But that was not what I was looking at. Underneath its branches stood a young girl with wild curly blonde hair, who had probably turned sixteen by now. She reached up and hung an envelope, then wiped at her eyes.
“What are you lookin’ at?” Boone asked.
“I’ll be back,” I murmured, untangling myself from his grasp.
Waddling across the street, I stood underneath the branches of the hawthorn and ran my fingers over all the memories. So many witches.
The girl glanced up at me, tensing when she saw who’d come to speak to her.
“I’m sorry about your sister,” I said. “And I’m sorry about taking your Legacy, Christine.”
The Nightshade Witch’s cheeks turned red, and she glanced at my fattening stomach. “You’re…”
“A leprechaun told me I’m having twins,” I declared, then made a face when I realized how absurd that sounded. “Are you enjoying the festival?”
She glanced away while her fingers worried the hem of her T-shirt.
I waited, knowing she was too afraid to ask.
“I was hopin’…” she began awkwardly.
“You came to ask me for your Legacy.”
Christine nodded, trying to hide behind her hair.
“What about your mum?”
“After Lucy died, she said she didn’t want anythin’ to do with magic ever again.” She scuffed her toe on the ground. “She doesn’t know I’m here.”
“It’s a long way from Galway,” I commented.
She shrugged. “I suppose.”
The longer I studied her, the more I got the feeling that she wasn’t quite like the other Nightshade Witches. She was young, eager, and had the courage to come all the way to Derrydun and face the Crescents. She had guts, especially after the ritual. I didn’t blame Lucy for what she did. She was brought up in a household full of prejudice and tainted with her ancestor’s use of dark magic, but Christine was different. Maybe it wasn’t too late for her to change her future and break away from the past hurts her coven wrought on mine. Perhaps we could help one another step into this new world. She was part of a new generation of witches, after all.
“You know what? I have just the thing in mind.” I placed my hand on her shoulder and nodded toward Irish Moon. “How about a summer internship? I could use the extra pair of hands…and I might be able to teach you a few things.”
The teenager’s eyes lit up.
“Now, it won’t be easy,” I went on.
“I know,” she said. “I know you won’t give me back me magic right away, but I’ll try me best. I promise.”
I smiled, her enthusiasm warming my heart…or that might just be heartburn. Either way, there was a big dollop of hope in there.
Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I guided her away from the hawthorn and into the midst of Derrydun.
“C’mon,” I said. “I’ve got a few people I’d like to introduce you to…”
Continue the Crescent Witch Chronicles with, Crescent Rogue! It’s time for Boone to tell his story…
Thank you for reading Crescent Legacy!
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Other Books in The Crescent Witch Chronicles
Crescent Calling
Crescent Prophecy
Crescent Legacy
Crescent Rogue
The Crescent Witch Chronicles is a series stuffed full of Irish charm, myth, and mayhem. Come on an adventure fraught with danger and romance...and the ultimate battle to save magic before it’s gone forever.
Find out more at: www.nicolertaylorwrites.com
ABOUT NICOLE
Nicole R. Taylor is the author of the bestselling Urban Fantasy series, The
