Cresent Prophecy by Axelle Chandler (great reads TXT) 📕

practicing. I’ve never been into soccer, but it was cool to watch them run through their drills. Hey, have you tried Guinness before? Man, that’s a complicated drink. You need to be a rocket scientist to pour a pint.”

“No one drinks Guinness here just like no one drinks Fosters back home.”

When he realized I was glaring at him, he paused. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me,” I retorted.

“Bad day?”

“You’re seriously asking me if I had a bad day?” I wanted to slap him one, but he knew exactly what he was doing. Alex might be a ‘good guy,’ but he knew how to work a situation to his advantage. Playing dumb was one of his go-to tactics.

“Yeah?”

“Everyone knows why you’re here,” I declared. “The whole village is talking about how you want to win me back. You want to know whose side they’re on? It’s not yours.” And it wasn’t mine. Even though the villagers had accepted me into their weird and colorful world, they would still choose Boone over me any day of the week and twice on Sundays.

He glanced around the pub and shrugged.

“I went to Mary’s for breakfast this morning, and she gave me a speech about fool men like you. Then I ran into Roy from the farm just outside of the village, who told me this crazy story about a bull and a heifer that was slightly offensive if you ask me. Then Father O’Donegal started reading me bible versus when I went to get lunch. And Mrs. Boyle brandished her broomstick at me menacingly as I walked back to the shop! I thought she was going to whack me over the head with it!”

Alex listened to my tirade with a smirk on his face. “Who’s Mrs. Boyle?”

“Who’s…” I made a face. “She’s the menace of Main Street! She’ll chase you for a mile if you give her half a chance! Usually, her main target is school children, but she wanted a bigger fish to fry today, thanks to you.”

“You know, if you wanted me to, I would move here,” he said, keeping his voice low. “If that’s what you wanted.”

I dropped the chip I’d just picked up and stared at him. “Have you hit your head or something?”

“Skye, I made a mistake…”

This was not happening. This had better not be one of those power of three law things I saw in that TV show Charmed. What you put out comes back at you times three. Was that a real-life witch thing? Oh, shit, the Three of Swords! The universe was going to serve me three awful cans full of middle-finger salutes. That was what the card was warning me about.

“Hey!”

My heart leaped at the sound Boone’s voice behind us. I turned, hoping he hadn’t heard the last thing Alex had said to me, but from the look of pure anger on his rugged Irish face, I had more chance of seeing a pig fly backward and upside down singing ‘Kumbaya’ while doing laps around a campfire.

“Boone,” I said, sliding off the stool. “Let me explain…”

“Explain what?” he asked, glaring at Alex, who’d stood beside me. “I heard plenty.”

“I don’t know why you bother with this guy, Skye. Since I arrived, all I’ve ever seen him do is disrespect you. You deserve better.” He grasped my arm to get my attention. “Let me make it up to you, and you’ll see. I should never have let you go.”

“You’re mad!” I exclaimed. “I said no, Alex.”

“I should’ve taken bets,” Sean McKinnon declared from the other end of the bar. “Two to one for Boone.”

“Shut up!” I screeched at him.

“Bualfidh mé an cac asat!” Boone exclaimed, glaring daggers at Alex.

“What does that mean?” I cried.

“It means he’s goin’ to kick his ass,” Sean replied. “Two to one for the Irish.”

Like the farmer had shouted the word go, Boone launched himself at Alex, fists flying. His knuckles smacked into my ex’s face with a crack, and my mouth fell open in shock as I stumbled out of the way, my plate of remaining chips forgotten.

Alex’s head snapped to the side, but he recovered quickly. Before Boone could duck, he was punched in the nose, then Alex rammed his shoulder into his guts, and they fell to the ground, sending a table and chairs flying. They began wrestling, both their faces red with anger as they tried to get shots in.

I’d never seen Boone raise his hand to anyone other than the craglorn and the wolf, and it was shocking to see him brawling with my ex-boyfriend. Alex I’d seen get into punch-ups on the footy oval but not bar fights, and especially, not over me. I wasn’t that special! I was just a smart-mouthed witch with a crystal shop on the ass cheek of Ireland, not some bloody supermodel siren with a trust fund and a private plane. That I could believe.

“Stop it!” I yelled. “Get off…” I kicked Boone up the ass, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Stand back, Skye,” Sean declared. “I’ll help you!”

The farmer wobbled over to the thrashing men, stood over the pair, and tipped his beer all over them. The liquid hit, but it did nothing to stop the fight.

“What did you think half a pint of beer was going to do?” I exclaimed.

He shrugged and went on watching the pair with amusement. “I told you. Two to one!”

I flailed helplessly, not sure what to do. No one else was stepping up to break the two morons apart before they tore the pub to shreds. Boone was on top with his fist about to slam into Alex’s eye when I felt a telltale buzz in the air. Magic. Boone was using his magic to get the upper hand. I couldn’t believe him!

Reaching behind the bar, I found the hose Maggie used to make drinks with. The one with carbonated water. Pointing it at the two men, I fired. There wasn’t much oomph behind the jet of water, but it did the trick.

Soaking the pair of