Crescent Calling: The Crescent Witch Chronicles - Book One by R Nicole (essential reading TXT) 📗

and began worrying the corners. Where was Boone? It had been half an hour, and he hadn’t shown yet. What if something had happened to him on the way home? I’d never been to his place before. Hell, I didn’t even know where it was only that he lived a half-mile out of town. Was it a half? Maybe it was a full mile. How many kilometers was that?

“Ah, if it isn’t little Skye.”

Turning, I saw Sean McKinnon had sauntered into the pub. For the first time since I’d arrived in Derrydun, he was completely sober, and it was unsettling, to say the least. It didn’t seem to help his disposition toward me, which had always been a little bristly at best.

“Sean,” I said curtly.

“Did you and Boone have fun today? Did you go swimmin’ in a mud pool?”

“Calm your farm, Sean,” I said with a scowl. “Boone said he would clean it for you. I’ll even come over and buff the paintwork with a pure silk cloth. And I have a brand-new toothbrush, soft bristle, I can use to detail the mags if you so desire.”

He curled his lip and slid into a stool at the bar, knowing full well I was winding him up. He didn’t drive a luxury Maserati. He drove a two thousand and four Toyota Corolla.

“You’re just as lippy as Aileen,” he grumbled.

“Lippy?”

“She was always takin’ people down a peg or two with a sarcastic remark.”

“But they always deserved it,” Boone said behind us.

Turning, I smiled, thankful for his appearance. He hadn’t been eaten by monsters, after all.

“That was the problem,” Sean said.

“No hard feelings,” I said, smiling sweetly. “Just know, if you bait, I bite. Tit for tat and all of that.”

The farmer moaned. “Aye, and it hurts like a bitch.”

“Do you know what you would like to eat?” Boone asked, turning his attention on me.

He’d changed into a clean pair of jeans and his trademark T-shirt and shirt, but this time, it wasn’t red and black. It was a steely gray. Perfect for hiding in shadows.

I shook my head. “I’m too nervous to think straight. You choose.”

He grasped my shoulder with his big hand and squeezed. “I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared around the bar and into the kitchen. The moment the door swung shut, Sean turned and peered at me. He might be a drunk mourning the death of his late wife, but he still had sharp eyes, especially where Boone was concerned.

“Are you and Boone an item?” he questioned.

“An item of what?” I asked, pretending to be clueless.

“An item of love.” He pronounced it lerve, and his accent made it sound even sleazier.

“Mind your own business,” I retorted.

He made a kissy face that I really wanted to slap.

“Sean McKinnon!” Maggie boomed from the other end of the bar. “I already called dibs, so move your backside away from her!”

“Aww, Maggie,” he said with a moan. “Will you give me a kiss?”

“Not if your life depended on it.”

Grateful for the distraction, I slipped off the stool and found a table in a secluded corner. By the time Boone came back with two plates full of mashed potato, vegetables, and steak, I’d worked myself up into a ball of anxiety.

“What’s the plan?” I asked as he handed me a knife and fork. “Once the web is cast, then what? Will the you-know-what just show up?”

“It may not take the bait,” he replied. “So I’ll go out and herd it in.”

“Don’t tell me you can change into a border collie.”

He laughed. “Nay.”

“Damn. I like dogs.”

“Noted.” He winked. “So the plan is set.”

“I don’t like that you’re going to leave me alone in the dark,” I complained, piling my fork with potato. “As bait no less.”

“I’ll be there when it counts,” Boone said in an attempt to reassure me. “You won’t face it alone.”

I stuffed the potato into my mouth so I didn’t have to reply. I didn’t know what to say, anyway.

* * *

We left Molly McCreedy’s just after dark. The moon hadn’t quite risen, so the darkness in the woods was almost absolute.

Strangely, the sounds that once freaked me out were now ones of comfort. That cracking noise was just old branches breaking away from trunks of trees and clattering to the forest floor, the fluttering was just the leaves falling from boughs, and the scurrying belonged to nighttime creatures coming out to hunt for food. All normal comings and goings. It would worry me more if they fell silent, and I suppose they would when the craglorn neared.

The clearing opened ahead, and we stepped underneath the hawthorn, its presence overwhelmingly welcome.

The moon had begun to shine, her silver light forked through the trees as if she knew we were in a hurry to finish the night’s proceedings. I knew I was already dreaming of tomorrow.

“You’re ready?” Boone asked beside me.

“Yes.” I nodded and clutched the athame tighter. “Once the web is cast, then there’s no going back. It’s the point of no return.”

“We’ll be ready for it.”

The board was set, and all that was left to do was move the pieces. Glancing at Boone, I couldn’t help it when I began staring at his lips. C’mon, Skye, focus!

Moving to the first point, I plunged the tip of the athame into the earth and focused my will onto the anchor point.

The blade held the power for the saeclum naeniam—the spell for the subiit deserta—and my intuition would blend with it to create a web designed to catch a craglorn. Anything that stepped inside would be able to leave, except my intended prey. At least, that was the goal—there had been no time to practice. Skye ‘One-Shot’ Williams was on the case.

I continued to the next point and then the next, setting up the base of the spell. When there were five points, outlined in the shape of a pentagram—the symbol for all the elemental forces—I stood in the center of the clearing.

Holding out my hand palm up, I narrowed my eyes and