Cresent Prophecy by Axelle Chandler (great reads TXT) 📕

buzz, buzz… Thumping my hand on the top, I silenced the awful racket and rubbed my eyes, trying to remember some of the absurd dreams I’d had.

It was always the same if I coasted on the edge of sleep and wakefulness. My dreams were crazier than a boyfriend who could morph into a fox. The more I tried to remember, the faster I forgot. Was that the definition of ironic? I didn’t know, but it sure felt like it.

Dragging myself out of bed and into the shower, I got ready for work in a daze, still feeling miserable after the argument with Boone under the hawthorn. I suspected Lucy, but he suspected Alex. Who was right? Or were we both wrong?

Shuffling outside, I made my way to the main street, my fingers closing around the shop keys in my jacket pocket. Maybe we shouldn’t have started somethin’. He was so wrong. Boone and I…

The sound of raised voices reached my ears as I stumbled around the corner. It didn’t really register in my foggy brain until I saw Lucy and Alex talking heatedly outside Irish Moon. Alex and Lucy. Lucy and Alex.

She was scowling at him as he talked, and he was waving his hands wildly. It looked awkward as hell…and completely suss.

Stepping back before they saw me, I peered at them, watching their conversation unfold. Too bad I didn’t know a spell to improve my hearing—if such a thing existed. Sometimes, I wish I had a wand to wave and a book of spells with simple commands like in Harry Potter. A summer program at Hogwarts would be helpful right about now.

After a moment, I knew he wasn’t going away, nor was my burning curiosity, so I strode around the corner, madder than a bee in a jar.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, jabbing a finger at Alex. “Don’t you think you’ve caused enough pointless drama?”

“You know why I’m here,” he replied, turning to face me.

I gasped as I saw the dark blue-black bruise over his left eye, and my hand flew to my mouth. Boone really clocked him one.

“Is it that horrible?” he asked with a chuckle. “It’ll go away, you know.”

“Oh, go and vague-book about it.” I made a face, resisting the urge to stick my tongue out at him.

“I’ve got better things to do than post clickbait on social media,” he said with a smirk.

“What’s more important than taking a hint?” I muttered, unlocking the door so Lucy and I could escape inside.

Alex sneered, his lip curling at an unattractive angle. The black eye didn’t help his chances of not looking like a complete douchebag, either.

“If you don’t mind, I’ve got a business to run,” I declared, closing the door in his face.

Turning, I knew full well he was still standing there, staring at me through the glass like a creepy stalker. At one time, his attention would’ve thrilled me, but now it was overkill. Kill being the word to worry about.

“Wow,” Lucy said, turning on the lights. “I never thought small town livin’ would be exactly like an episode of Ballykissangel.”

“Bally-who now?”

“It’s a TV show,” she explained with a laugh. “It’s an Irish drama about the crazy life in a small, remote Irish village. You know, it’s got all the classic storylines. Love, scandal, schemes…”

Sounded like Derrydun but without half the stuff that made it the most insane place on the planet. Just add a secret coven of witches or something like that.

Glancing over my shoulder, I was relieved to see Alex had disappeared. I needed to get it through his thick skull that I wasn’t getting back together with him, nor was I leaving Derrydun. We needed to sit down and hash it out, and Boone—wherever he was—wasn’t going to like it one bit.

“I’m sorry,” I said to Lucy. “You started working here at a really strange time. Everything is ass up…”

“Havin’ two men fightin’ over you sounds like bliss, but I can see it isn’t.”

“It’s a good plot for a movie,” I said with a snort. “Or that TV show of yours. But real life? Forget about it.”

“Be careful, Skye,” she said, looking worried. “I don’t have a good feelin’.”

“About?”

She glanced away and began dusting the glass cabinet erratically.

“Lucy.”

She paused, holding the feather duster mid-dust, and her cheeks flushed red.

“Lucy,” I said again. “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing. He just…” She sighed dramatically. “There was an undertone.”

“Undertone of what?”

Lucy turned back to her dusting, moving along to the amethyst cave that was the size of her head. She flicked the feather duster around inside, cleaning the purple crystal teeth.

“Lucy.”

“Malice,” she said. “There were undertones of malice.”

I shivered, the image of the sneer that had carved Alex’s face coming to mind. I’d never seen him look like that before. I didn’t regret kissing Boone by the spring under Croagh Patrick, but he was beginning to all because of Alex and his unrelenting pursuit of me. He was trying to break us up, and when the moment was right, he would swoop in and be the shoulder I needed to cry on. Well, I had news for him!

“Don’t worry about me,” I said, taking out the tarot cards from underneath the counter. “I don’t intend to let him get anything. I’m not going back.”

Shuffling the cards, I drew one from the top and scowled when I saw it was the Three of Swords. Again. It was a warning, plain and simple, just like the Tower had been.

“I know I’ve only been around a few days,” Lucy began. “But if you need anything…”

“Thanks. I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about Alex. I’ll handle him.” I rolled my eyes and put the card back into the stack. “This has gone on for far too long if you ask me.”

“You’re goin’ to confront him?” Her eyes bulged.

“Yeah. Looks like it’s the only way he’s going to get the hint.” And I would use magic to suggestively push him back onto a plane back to Australia if