Heir of Earth (Forgotten Gods) (12 page)

“Here! You’re turn.” I shoved the bottle at him only to find my hands shaking so violently he had to grab it with both hands. When he did, he took my hand as well, holding it, stopping the shakes with his strong, warm grip. My eyes fluttered up to his for the briefest moment.

“Faye, are you okay?” Phin’s face went suddenly serious, full of concern. I had to think quickly. Throw him off the scent. The last thing I needed was for people here to suspect what a freak I was. I pulled my hand away, shoving it in my pocket and grabbing his truck keys with the other.

I wheeled around on my heel and began to walk away, as quickly as I could without being obvious, down the barn aisle. Remembering I hadn’t answer him, I turned, walking backwards and slapping a smile on my face.

“Yeah. Ummm...bad dream.” I shrugged my shoulders impatiently, as if it was nothing. Phin crinkled his nose as he watched me go.

“Yeah, last night was pretty emotional for you. Go on home. Get some decent sleep.” His face loosened and he turned back to the stall door.

I rolled down the windows and blared the radio as loud as it would go in Phin’s little truck as I flew down the dirt road from Ennishlough, dust billowing like storm clouds behind me. Trying to forget what I had seen. Trying not to scare myself with what it might mean.

Was I losing my mind?
It was a legitimate concern given the absurdity of my Dayne dream from last night. Lucky for me it was so lucid it seemed real. With my own brain in control I was finally able to imagine what it was like to kiss him. He hadn’t seemed too thrilled about kissing me, which was weird since it was my dream.
Some things even dreams can’t fix,
 I sighed.

That part of the night was freaky enough. But it was in living color, so there’s no way it was anything more than a dream. The fact that my subconscious had given Dayne some weird, super human power was probably just a symbolic representation of how amazingly perfect I though he was.
Right?

The ominous glare of aquamarine orbs flashed across the movie reel in my head. I gasped and slapped both hands over my face, shaking my head frantically to make it go away.

Rocks kicked up from the road and pelted the side of Phin’s truck, tearing me away from the memory. I opened my eyes to see I was careening toward the ditch at fifty miles an hour. My mind exploded with fear.

I slammed on the brakes, gripping the steering wheel in both fists and bracing my body on the seat. The little truck slid to a halt inches from the edge, dust and gravel enveloping it in a thick cloud.

My head fell forward to my forearms, which draped over the leather wrapped wheel, shoulders slumped by the immediate release of adrenaline. I refused to let myself cry, not over something like this. It’d been years since I let a vision get to me, but I couldn’t possibly forget it. It was the second time my visions had been anything other than black and white, but this time it was completely different.

The green eyes that appeared to me in my bed back home, eyes that I now knew belonged to Dayne, hadn’t scared me into nearly wrecking a car. They were mysterious, yet somehow welcoming, like they were meant to play some significant part in my life. I was immediately intrigued by the secret Dayne’s eyes seemed to keep. And creepy as that morning was to me for so many reasons, I had never felt like I was in any danger.

The new eyes? Terrified me. They were cold and calculating. Stalking my every move, causing my heart to race with fear every time I pictured them in my head—which I was trying really hard not to do. Calling to me in a way that sent chills rushing from my ears to my toes. I knew to fear those eyes. I knew they wanted to hurt me.

It was early afternoon when I pushed open the door of Rose’s bakery, after hours of fitful sleep that left me no more rested than when I woke that morning.

“What a nice surprise, Faye!” Rose greeted me with a huge hug. “I understand you’re quite the hero this morning! Phin told me all about the excitement of last night.” She was still hugging me tightly, rubbing my back as she rocked me back and forth. She gave the best hugs.

“I can only imagine what Phin had to say about it,” I said, rolling my eyes as I tucked my chin over her shoulder to hide my blushing cheeks. Dread washed over me at the thought of what a fool I had looked like this morning. Phin had thought my dream about Dayne was hilarious, and I was pretty sure he would be more than happy to share the joke. But what a dream it was. Too bad I had to share it with every woman under forty in Clonlea.

“He said you were a natural born healer! No doubt taking after your aunt,” she said with a wink and tugged at my ponytail. I couldn’t help but beam to see how proud she was of me. “Losing Hannah and the baby would have been horrible for him.” Her ginger hair bounced along her shoulders with each nod. “You did Phin a great service last night. I’m sure he’ll not be forgetting that.” She led me around to the business side of the counter as she prattled on in her easy way. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“It wasn’t me, really. I just held the bottle for the little guy.” I shook my head and waved my hand dismissively in front of me as I walked behind the glass display case filled with sweet treats.

“Well, let’s see what kind of magic you can work in the bakery today.” Rose said holding out an apron as I entered the kitchen through a swinging door. “Faye, this is April. April, this is my Faye.” Rose gave me a sideways hug as she introduced me.

April was elbow deep in a mixing bowl, struggling to get a batch of dough onto the counter. She dropped it as soon as she saw me. With a wide smile, she crossed the room to me and held out her hand.

“Faye! I’m so glad to finally meet you!” She took my hand and wrapped her other arm around me in a half hug, which was way more than I expected from someone I had just met. April had managed to acquire Rose’s easy way after working for her so long, and I instinctively hugged her back.

“You, too. I would’ve come sooner, but Phin’s kept me busy at the barn and I’m useless in the kitchen. My mother never lets me cook.”

“Afraid you’ll mess up her kitchen?” April guessed, blowing at a stray curl off her forehead as she looked around the flour-dusted disarray of the bakery as if that wouldn’t matter.

“Not really,” I said with a grimace, looking to Rose for help. I hated to tell people how abnormal I was.

“Faye was born without the nerve endings fully developed in her hands. She can’t feel hot or cold sensations like we can,” Rose offered all this with a smile, like it was nothing out of the ordinary. I loved her for always trying to make me feel so normal.

April grabbed my hand again, and turned it over in her palm, inspecting every inch, expecting it to look differently.

“Kinda weird, huh?” I tried to laugh it off, but my voice was tight with nerves.

“Kinda cool,” April corrected with obvious admiration. “I wonder if my mom would ever buy something like that? Sure would be nice to never have to cook dinner again.”

“Or iron clothes!” I added, relieved that she actually appeared envious of my freak status.

“How’d you find out?” April asked, releasing my hands and turning back to the mixing bowl and dough.

“I don’t really remember. I was so young.” I looked to Rose for help once again.

“Her mom found her playing with a candle when she was a wee little thing. My cousin’s a bit of a drama queen. Overreacted like she usually does.” Rose rolled her eyes at my mother’s absurdity and I had to laugh. “Hasn’t even put candles of Faye’s birthday cake since then.” Which was true—sad— but true.

The room went quiet and April looked at me with a mix of wonder and pity that unsettled me. I hated when people looked at me like that. So I scrambled for something that would take the focus off my mutant abnormality.

“I still haven’t had a fresh loaf of this famous of bread of yours, Rose,” I said and pulled the apron over my head. It did the trick. All movement in the kitchen stopped. I looked from April to Rose, who was studying me with a scrunched brow, thinking through the last days in her head.

“Now how did that happen?” She asked, genuinely confused.

“I think every slice you bring home finds its way to the front porch,” I laughed, joking about her fondness for the
fair folk
. I glanced over at April, expecting to share a smile at Rose’s eccentric behavior.

Instead she pursed her lips and nodded approvingly without even looking up from her dough. “Serves a much better purpose there than it would in our bellies, that’s for sure,” April pulled empty loaf pans from a metal rack to her right.

“What?” I asked, unable to believe someone else actually believed in Rose’s insane fairy talk. “Why would you want to waste perfectly good bread on a cat?”

“Oh, it’s just our superstitious way,” April dismissed their Irish eccentricities with shrugged shoulders and a crooked smile. “Over here it’s a sign of good luck, like finding a four leaf clover, or hanging a cross over your bed. Like...” She paused for a moment, looking around the room as she thought about how to explain this craziness to me.

“Okay, like you Americans pick up a penny when you find one on heads cause its good luck, right?” I nodded and she continued. “Well, over here we don’t have that superstition, you can’t pick up enough pennies to change your luck. But forget to leave some bread on your porch? Watch out,” she shook her head and her hands left the dough long enough to form a cross with two sticky fingers, warding away any bad luck. “This Honeyed Sweet Bread of Rose’s is about as good as it gets.” She put the last of her loaves into a pan and set them all on a rack near the ovens to rise.

“Seems like a lot of trouble to keep a little twinkling light out of your house,” I said rolling my eyes.

“Twinkling light?” She turned back to me, her faced screwed in confusion. “Oh no! Those are sprites you’re thinking of. Irish Sidhe are as human as you or me. But waaaayyy better looking.”

“They’re hot?” I smiled eagerly, hoping I didn’t sound like a total idiot using that word. April’s eyes sparkled and she nodded at me.

“Hottie McHottie,” she giggled, leveling a stone-cold serious look at me and waggling one eyebrow. “Like, think about the hottest guy you knew back home and multiply him by like...a hundred. That’s what Irish Sidhe look like.” I dragged my finger through a pile of flour on the counter, thinking about what she said. Any guy I had known back home would easily be eclipsed by Dayne’s good looks. A blush pinked my cheeks when I saw the suspicious sideways glance April threw my way.

“Only guys?” I swept the little pile of flour dust into my hand and walked it to the trashcan.

“Only ones I care about.”

“It sounds like you might forget to put bread out on purpose?” I teased her, immediately wondering if I should have, if she would understand I was just joking.
Oh I hated my rusty social skills!

She shrugged at me unapologetically, wiping up the mess she had made on the countertop.

“I certainly wouldn’t kick ‘em out!” A broad grin stretched from ear to ear as she turned toward the trash can, her eyes dancing mischievously, which reassured me.

“So, can I try some of this magic bread now?” I asked, laughing at the way she waggled her eyebrows.

“Absolutely!” April answered and turned to me with excited delight in her eyes.

The bell on the shop door tinkled and Rose called out a happy greeting from the counter up front.

April put water on the stove for tea and went over to the racks of loaves Rose had just pulled from the oven. She inspected each one before selecting a perfectly browned bun and placed it on a wooden cutting board. “Hot and fresh from the oven! You’ll never taste anything like it in your life!” I reached out for the loaf and held it to my nose, taking in the warmth of the sweet smell. My stomach growled with anticipation.

She was right. The moment the bread touched my tongue it exploded against my taste buds and I was in heaven. I devoured the piece in one more bite and reached back for a second slice before I had swallowed the first.

“Something else, right?” She blew again at the pesky piece of hair that fell in her eyes as she reached out and cut another slice. I nodded, my mouth too full to answer.

“So, you’re working for Dayne DeLaney at Ennishlough?” April dipped her piece of bread into the little pot of strawberry jam, studying it before she put it in her mouth.

“Yeah,” I said following her lead with the jam.

“And have you fallen under his spell yet?” She feigned disinterest, as if she could care less about what was going on with Dayne DeLaney. I knew better. I saw the affect he had on girls. There wasn’t a single female in this town that wouldn’t walk down the street naked if they thought it might catch his attention.

I shook my head, swallowing the last of my bread before I answered. “I don’t think he likes me very much.” That was obvious. I doubted nursing Hannah and her foal would do much to exonerate me from the accident with LeSheen on my first day at Ennishlough.

“Consider yourself lucky. He’s broken half the hearts in Clonlea.” Her dismissive tone made me wonder if she was one of those. “I personally don’t see what all the fuss is about. Sure, he’s hot, but there’s something very strange about him.” She shook her head and looked down at the table in thought. She was quiet for a minute—mysterious. My interest was piqued.

“Strange?” I questioned, giving her all the encouragement she needed to continue.

“Um-hum,” she said raising her chin and eyebrows like an investigative journalist. “He’s just soooo…” She dragged the word out as she spoke, searching for a way to describe Dayne and adding to the dramatics of her story. “…Reclusive.” She finally settled on her adjective. I was already hanging on her every word, enthralled with the prospect of finally getting the real story on my handsome, but totally untouchable, boss.

“No one really knows what the real story is with him, but there’s been enough theories to keep this town talking since he got here.” She was enjoying this. April was the kind of girl who loved to gossip.

“That sounds like some juicy gossip. Tell me,” I said with an eager smile, leaning into her, excited to finally get the dirt on my perfect boss. It was impossible to imagine anyone would have anything bad to say about him. He seemed so far above the judgments of a tiny Irish farming village. Full of himself, sure. But you couldn’t really blame him.

“Ummm…let’s see…witness protection program, arms dealer, drug runner, hiding from the cops, Russian Mafia.” She rattled off the rumors floating around about Dayne. Each one was more absurd than the last.

“But he’s Irish?” I said laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. “He couldn’t be
Russian
Mafia.”

She shrugged, dismissing the obvious inconsistency of her last hypothesis. “I personally think he’s not interested in girls, if you know what I mean.” She waggled her eyebrow and gave me a long, low glare, waiting for me to pick up on her obvious assumption.

“No way.” I refused to even entertain the thought.

“Think about it,” she persisted. “A man that good looking, dressing the way he does, and not interested in a single girl around?” She let her implication hang in the air, leaving me to connect my own dots. Her suggestion was ridiculous. If Dayne wasn’t interested in the girls around town, it was probably because he was used to dating supermodels, not because he didn’t like girls.

He certainly wasn’t anything like the other men in Clonlea. He was too exotic, too good -looking—movie star good looking. He had the same slightly rough and rugged look of my favorite Hollywood heartthrob, who happened to be unattached as well, despite sharing raunchy love scenes with every well-known starlet of the day. His apparent lack of a real sex life was always fodder for the checkout line tabloid gossips. I guess April could be onto something. But I refused to believe a gay man could make my heart beat the way Dayne DeLaney did.

“I thought you said he was a heart breaker?” I offered a rebuttal to her argument.