Silver at Midnight: A Paranormal Romance Urban Fantasy (The Keepers of Knowledge Series Book 5) by Bridgette O'Hare (best large ereader .TXT) 📕

“I’d like to know about your recent trip to Dublin. You came to my flat a few days before I arrived in Pyreshore, and the next day I received an invitation to meet someone, who I assume was you, in the Glasnevin Cemetery. Someone, again you, who showed up but didn't show up, passed a note through a witch there like we were in grade school, and then left me with some cryptic message and even more questions. Then you act like you’ve never seen me before when I walk into the café. Why?” I exhaled.

Cian folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head to one side, as though he were confused and processing. My lack of patience got the better of me.

“Do you not have an explanation?” I urged anxiously.

“I d’ not.”

“How can ya not have an explanation?”

“Because it wasn't me.”

I slumped over top of the desk with my arms crossed and glared at him—now I was confused.

“If it wasn't you . . . It had to be you. My neighbor described you right down to that jagged little scar over your eye,” I blew out with exasperation.

Cian leaned forward, rested his arms on the desk and clasped his hands together; concern played heavily in his eyes. “I don't know who your neighbor saw, or talked to, but I do know it was not me. I have been in Pyreshore for the past three weeks. Ask your uncle. We've been working together on the situation with The Saiad. He's how I knew who ya were without knowing what ya looked like, but I couldn’t tell ya that until you were onboard with the mission. Otherwise, his involvement would have been compromised. So, when you walked into the café last night, I knew all about you, t’ a degree.”

I stared at him, but I was really staring through him, lost in thought, rolling the new information in with the old and trying to make sense of it.

“What did this version of me say t’ your neighbor?” Cian asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Nothin’ really, just said he was a family friend and that . . .” I trailed off, remembering the odd piece of the puzzle.

“And?” Cian urged me to continue.

“And he said my father had given him my address.”

Cian raised an eyebrow. “I thought Lachlan said your father had never been around.”

I nodded slowly. “Aye.”

“So, this was a Shifter. Obviously. And while I have more questions, my next one is . . . why did this shifter choose my likeness when trying to contact you?”

“Why’d they pass the note through Pixie Witch instead of just doing it themselves? If they used your image once, why not do it again?” I continued, ignoring his question.

“Who’s Pixie Witch? And what did the note say?”

“The witch in the cemetery had a pixie haircut. Whoever the shifter was, he gave her the note to give me. She said it had been imbued with location magic, to keep tabs on me I guess, but she removed it before she handed it over. Apparently, she's dealt with stalkers before.”

“And the note?” Cian asked.

“Three lines: Midnight. Silver moon. I’ll find you. It really makes absolutely no sense. There's no such thing as a silver moon t’ my knowledge. Nothing I could find anyway. I've heard of a harvest moon and a blood moon, but nothing about a silver moon.”

“We will get back to that,” Cian assured me. “But first, does Lachlan know about any of this?”

“No. As soon as the witch handed me the note, I made a beeline for my flat and packed. I changed my flights to leave out that night and came straight here.”

“You don't seem like the type t’ spook easily. What made ya bug out that quickly?”

“Something the witch said just as she handed me the note. And the look in her eyes.”

“Don’t keep me hangin’,” Cian demanded. “What’d she say?”

“She said, He knows who you are.”

“I can see how that might have been cause for concern considering your line of work. Anonymity is everything. That's why you were so cautious with me, still are.” He grinned.

“I’m warmin’ up t’ ya,” I offered with a faint smile.

“Aye, I’ll win ya over,” he said then immediately tacked on, “Your trust. I’ll win your trust.”

Little did he know, he already had that. I hadn’t even thought twice about sharing the details of the note or all the information I’d gathered over the years. That spoke volumes.

Cian pushed back and rested against the back of his chair. “We need to tell Lachlan about your stalker.”

“You mean tell him that you have been stalking me?” I teased.

“Exactly. I mean, can ya blame me? Tis a good thing ya haven’t given me your number yet. Next thing ya know, I’ll show up at your house.” He was joking, but I felt the color rush from my face. And Cian obviously noticed. “What’s wrong, lass? Ya look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Last night . . . I had planned to tell Uncle Lach, but now that I know it wasn’t you in Dublin, it’s a lit’l more cause for concern,” I rambled.

“Aish. What happened last night?” Cian articulated to refocus me.

“Someone tried t’ break through my barrier.”

“You put up a ward?”

“Aye, and the alarm woke me in the middle of the night. I was able t’ get a glimpse of someone near the back doors, but . . . they got spooked before I could get a close look.” I wasn’t about to admit that I tripped over something and scared them away.

His jaw stiffened and his brow tightened. He locked eyes with me, and I saw the flash of determination and protection as it set in. “I know you can take care of yourself. And I realize this is goin’ t’ sound a lit’l sexist . . . but I don’t care. I don’t like the idea of ya stayin’ alone until we know what’s goin’