Silver at Midnight: A Paranormal Romance Urban Fantasy (The Keepers of Knowledge Series Book 5) by Bridgette O'Hare (reading books for 4 year olds txt) 📗

here until lunch. If you’d like t’ come by in the morning, I’d be happy t’ whip something up for breakfast and we can talk. There’s complete and total privacy within these walls.”

I hesitated.

“There will be coffee,” he added as he turned back toward me, mug in hand. “I hear it’s the best in town.”

I narrowed my eyes and unconsciously bit on the inside of my cheek as I contemplated the offer.

“Very well. What time?” I asked.

“Nine?”

“I’ll be here.”

He took my coffee and poured it into a takeout cup, then stepped to the end of the bar and put something into a small paper bag. He returned, handed me both and said, “I put a lit’l something in there for ya in case ya still happen to be hungry.”

“Thank you. ‘Tis very kind.” I took the bag and the coffee and started toward the front door.

He got there before me, and I caught a glimpse as he moved his finger inconspicuously in a familiar pattern. It was definitely something I recognized—protection magic. Cian was undoubtedly either Fae or Witch. And that explained a few things.

As I walked to my car, I knew two things with absolute confidence—Cian McCallister was dangerous, and I was in over my head. Not because I couldn’t handle myself under precarious conditions—I could. And not because this was uncharted territory—I trusted my instincts to improvise. What made agreeing to join forces with Cian McCallister the most dangerous situation I had ever faced was . . . I didn’t feel like I was in danger at all.

Eight

I did my best to push Cian McCallister from my mind as stepped out into the cool autumn air and made my way to the car. I drove to the two-story Cape Cod style cottage without missing a turn, but I couldn’t help going at a leisurely speed and taking in some of the town’s charm along the way. No matter if you found yourself in a large city like Dublin or New York or a picturesque town like Kinnitty, every locale developed a different ambience at night. Pyreshore was no exception. Brisk wind whistled through the alleys and rustled trees along quaint avenues lit with streetlights straight out of a Dicken’s novel. It was a seamless blend of old world and new.

My new living quarters fit the description perfectly. Old blended with new.

A warm glow stretched over gray shaker siding around a porch light that had been left on, welcoming me as I pulled onto the cobblestoned driveway. Moonlight radiated from the ocean behind the cottage, creating a halo effect around the structure. It reminded me of a painting in a gallery or a postcard you might pick up in a tourist shop to display on your refrigerator.

I sat in the car for a moment after shutting it off and admired the house I would call home for at least the next few weeks. As much as I knew it was expected of me to become a Keeper, I also understood that I wasn’t required to accept the position. I didn’t know who the High Council might pursue as a backup plan if I chose not to follow in the footsteps of my bloodline, but I also did not intend to let that concern influence my decision. I had always felt I was meant for something more than tracking down relics, that I had a purpose I hadn’t yet fulfilled, I just didn’t know what that purpose might be. Yet.

I think Grams knew. I had frequently wondered if she had seen my calling through her Seer Sight and simply never told me.

One of the first lessons I learned when my Seer Sight began to develop was to never tell anyone their fate. Grams insisted that knowing one’s fate sealed it. Without knowing what was in store, however, the path was left open for adjustment.

She did her best to train me, and she reminded me often that I had a higher calling from a higher power. Higher than I understood. She was adamant that I always kept my mind open so, when the time came, I would hear the message being given to me. I couldn’t help but speculate, as I moved my gaze to look out over the dunes behind the cottage, if me becoming a Keeper was what Grams had been talking about all along. She had always been so confident, like she had seen what I was meant to do.

“I sure do miss you, Grams. I feel like there was so much left for you to teach me—so much I still need to learn.” I pulled in a deep sigh while grabbing the coffee and paper bag Cian had sent with me, then collected my carryon bag from the passenger seat of the car. I had packed everything I would need for a couple of nights in the small bag. My full-sized suitcase, that I’m certain weighed as much as I did, would be perfectly safe in the trunk of the car until the next morning. I wasn’t fighting with it tonight.

I exited the car making sure I had the house keys Nira had given me and the car keys—because I had a terrible habit of spelling my keys up in my car—and generated a protection spell over my little black sedan before heading into the cottage.

I made sure not to step on the cracks between the oversized cobblestones as I made my way to the front door. It was a silly game I had played as a kid, and I wasn’t superstitious at all, but I still did it.

Awe washed over me when I shut the cottage door behind me.

Commanding views of the Atlantic Ocean were on display through a wall of windows framing French doors that opened onto an expansive deck. The wall of glass practically brought the ocean to you. I smiled when I noticed the lighthouse sitting just off the coastline and directly in front of my cottage. Nira had