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here until lunch. If youā€™d like tā€™ come by in the morning, Iā€™d be happy tā€™ whip something up for breakfast and we can talk. Thereā€™s complete and total privacy within these walls.ā€

I hesitated.

ā€œThere will be coffee,ā€ he added as he turned back toward me, mug in hand. ā€œI hear itā€™s the best in town.ā€

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

ā€œVery well. What time?ā€ I asked.

ā€œNine?ā€

ā€œIā€™ll be here.ā€

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, ā€œI put a litā€™l something in there for ya in case ya still happen to be hungry.ā€

ā€œThank you. ā€˜Tis very kind.ā€ 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 recognizedā€”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 confidenceā€”Cian McCallister was dangerous, and I was in over my head. Not because I couldnā€™t handle myself under precarious conditionsā€”I could. And not because this was uncharted territoryā€”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 didnā€™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 couldnā€™t help going at a leisurely speed and taking in some of the townā€™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 Dickenā€™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 wasnā€™t required to accept the position. I didnā€™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 hadnā€™t yet fulfilled, I just didnā€™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 oneā€™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 couldnā€™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.

ā€œI sure do miss you, Grams. I feel like there was so much left for you to teach meā€”so much I still need to learn.ā€ 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 Iā€™m certain weighed as much as I did, would be perfectly safe in the trunk of the car until the next morning. I wasnā€™t fighting with it tonight.

I exited the car making sure I had the house keys Nira had given me and the car keysā€”because I had a terrible habit of spelling my keys up in my carā€”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 wasnā€™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

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