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

attire ramped up to ten. Black boots, shiny black leggings, black top with white skulls printed on it, and a long black cardigan. When she reemerged, I smiled.

“Last day. Glad to get rid of me?” I asked, scooping up the tarot cards.

She rolled her eyes and pouted, her black lipstick making her skin look paler than the ivory of her makeup already did. Hugging a black folder against her chest, she sighed dramatically.

I’d learned not to take her moody Goth attitude to heart because hers was always in the right place. How many times had she chastised me since arriving? Too many to count. Ultimately, it was the Crescent Witch legacy that forced me to stay, but it had been one of Mairead’s teenage tantrums that had sealed the deal and made me see that it wasn’t all that bad here.

“I drew a card for you this morning,” I went on, waving the tarot deck. “It was the bitch card.”

“Very funny.”

“What’s that you’ve got there?”

“I made this for you,” she said, handing me the display book.

Flipping open the cover, I leafed through the silky plastic pockets, my eyebrows raising. It was an Irish Moon employee handbook. Mairead had actually sat down at a computer, typed out the shop procedures, printed it out, and put all the pages in the pockets. There was even a contents page.

“You did all this?” My mouth fell open, and I glanced at her.

“Can’t have Aileen’s shop fallin’ into chaos the moment I leave,” she said with a shrug. Her cheeks were turning redder by the minute. She pretended to be aloof, but she lapped up the praise, secretly loving the achievement. We’d become a mismatched pair of buddies somewhere along the track, her and me.

“You think I can’t handle this place on my own? I can get Boone to help. He’s already got a thousand different jobs, so one more won’t hurt him.”

“Do you really want to spend all your time with him?” she asked. “You don’t want to get tired of each other. Others are linin’ up.”

“What, now you’re finally about to turn eighteen, you’re a relationship expert?” I asked with a snort.

“I’d hate for you to give up lips like those.” She smiled sweetly.

I gasped dramatically. “Oh, no, you didn’t!”

“You may have caught him, but at least I still got a kiss.”

I rolled my eyes and tossed her the feather duster.

Boone was ten years her senior, or at least, we thought he was, and she’d had a crush on him ever since he turned up in Derrydun. Me arriving had only thrown a spanner in the works of her grand plan to bag an older man.

“You’re about to go to college in Dublin,” I said. “You’ll forget about Boone the moment you find a hot guy who’s into spider webs.”

“I’m going to miss your jokes,” she shot back. “Not.”

“Now, there’s some important information I must impart to you before you leave. It’s been passed down from woman to woman, over generations dating back to the land before time. A very important thing to remember when you’re out in the world on your own for the first time.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

“Don’t forget to use protection.”

“Skye!” the girl exclaimed, rolling her eyes.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you get an itchy—”

The door opened, and the bell jingled as Boone walked in, looking just as irritated as Mairead did.

“It must be feather-up-the-butt day,” I declared. “What’s tickling you?”

“Ack, I’m givin’ myself a headache,” he exclaimed, scratching his head.

His wild, curly, almost black hair fell into his eyes, the haircut I’d given him the week before already grown out. He looked hot with his short back and sides and mop on top.

“Overthinking again?” I asked, eyeing Mairead.

We’d had this discussion before, Boone and I. A side effect of his memory loss was giving himself a migraine every time he tried to remember something about his forgotten past. Which meant his amnesia was magically induced. He’d told me Aileen had tried to remove the block but hadn’t been able to move it at all. Apparently, the verdict was, only the person who put it there in the first place could remove it. And that was totally useful information. Not.

“Nay, Sean is givin’ me a ribbin’ again.”

Sean McKinnon was the closest thing Boone had to a best mate. They worked together for Roy at his farm just outside of the village and spent a great deal of money over at the local pub, Molly McCreedy’s. Sean’s wife had died from cancer a few years ago, and he’d become the town drunk as a result. He’d never really gotten over her passing, and Boone seemed to be the only person able to keep him from completely drowning in sorrow.

“The busybody,” I grumbled.

“And Mary says spring is a great month, but summer could also work.”

My mouth fell open. The village hadn’t let up with the gossiping ever since they’d seen Boone and I give each other a little kiss out front of Irish Moon. You would think a few weeks would give them time to cool down about it, but no. Looked like they were already planning the wedding.

Mairead snorted, and I glared at her in warning. Turning, she began to dust the shelves while pretending not to listen in.

“It’s only been a month,” I said. “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t had a chance to catch my breath yet.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do about it,” I said. “They’ll tire of it eventually.”

“Eventually isn’t soon enough.”

“You’re the one who never went out with anyone, so now that you have, of course, it’s going to be the talk of the village. The coveted has finally been claimed. It’s a small place. There isn’t much else to do but make a melodrama out of everything.”

“You don’t seem worried about it,” he complained. “Especially with the…” He glanced at Mairead. “The thing.”

“Aileen managed it,” I whispered, referring to her duty to the Crescents. “So can