Crescent Legacy by Nicole Taylor (interesting books to read for teens txt) 📕

As per usual, I was flying blind and fumbling in the dark, and all the other clever sayings for being a clueless biatch I could think of.

I turned the page again and paused when I saw a hand-drawn picture of a nightshade flower. It was just an explanation of the plant and its various properties, but it felt like a sign. The entire magical world was all about omens. I’d had enough flashed in my face to last a lifetime, so I figured I had a good inbuilt omen detector by now. Maybe this was one I should be listening to.

Thinking about the night of the ritual, I winced as I felt the phantom pain of Lucy’s dagger slicing my arms. The blade had cut from elbow to wrist, severing veins and parting flesh and muscle. The amount of blood pouring from me onto the ground had been horrific.

Shaking my head, I pushed the memory away. Just thinking about it made me want to hurl.

Lucy said Carman had her family and were using them as leverage for her to perform the ritual. Now that it was all over, what had happened to her mother, grandmother, and fifteen-year-old sister? Had Carman let them go? Doubtful. Had she even taken them in the first place? Carman couldn’t get into Ireland, but it didn’t mean much. She’d had her thugs snatch Mairead off the street in Dublin, so the same could’ve happened to the Nightshade Witches.

But if they were free and they found out Boone took Lucy out to save me, then we would likely have a bunch of evil witches who were out for revenge to add to the pile of problems we already had. Witches who’d had their magic taken by Aileen, but… Hang on. Lucy and her sister had been spared. They’d been given a chance to redeem their coven, but look at what happened.

Glancing at the sketch, I ran my fingers over the lines of ink, tracing the outline of the flower. Lucy’s sister…

Where did Lucy say she was from? Galway. Where was that? I had a copy of her resume with her home address. Maybe I could wrangle a loan of Sean McKinnon’s little red Toyota Corolla again so I could go and check. Just to be on the safe side. It was about the only proactive thing—other than standing guard over Derrydun and the ancient hawthorn, aka the ultimate doorway to another plane of existence—I could do.

Glancing at Boone, I blurted, “Hey, do you think you could convince Sean to lend me his car again?”

He raised his eyebrows. “After last time? You’d have a better chance of spellin’ Mrs. Boyle’s broomstick…if you can pry it from her fingers.”

I snorted, remembering our trip to Croagh Patrick. On the way back, we’d been soaked to the bone by a flurry of hungry sluagh who’d tried to drown me in the spring. Cue drenched upholstery and muddy floors. Sean wasn’t pleased, and Boone had spent an entire afternoon sucking out the muck from the interior with a wet and dry vacuum cleaner in an attempt to win back his mate.

“It’s important.”

“I can ask,” he said, tipping the last of the vegetables into the pot. “But I can’t make any promises.”

“Thanks.”

“Where are you goin’?” He put the lid on the pot and sat across from me, a concerned look on his face.

I glanced at the spell book again. If I found them there, what would I do?

“Skye… You’re not goin’ to find the Nightshade Witches are you?”

“So what if I am?” I snapped, closing the spell book.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you goin’ to kill them?”

His words were blunt and direct and hit me right where it hurt.

“I don’t want to, but what if I have to?”

“Skye, you don’t—”

“There are lots of things I don’t want to do,” I interrupted, knowing I was being a little insensitive to the fact he’d killed Lucy. Our situation had always been life and death, but facing the actual dying part wasn’t sunshine and rainbows. “But I have to do them; otherwise…” Resting my elbows on the table, I fisted my hands in my hair. “They murdered my family. They tried to murder me. She tried to murder you. How am I supposed to react to that? With lollypops and marshmallows and puppies and kittens?”

“I didn’t say—”

“I’m going to Galway, and I’m going to find out what happened to them. I’m going to find out the truth.” I straightened up and eyeballed Boone.

“And if you don’t like what you find?”

I curled my hands into tight fists, struggling to keep my anger in check. “Then I’ll do what I have to do to protect magic from those that would destroy it. If it’s taken from us, there will be nothing to protect the world from Carman and what lies on the other side of those doorways.”

Boone nodded, his expression solemn. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No. I have to do this alone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. This is Crescent business. This part, I have to do on my own.”

He sighed, then glanced at the stove as the stew inside began to bubble. “Then I’ll ask Sean tomorrow.”

Standing out the front of Irish Moon, I pulled down my beanie over my ears and blew out a plume of vaporized breath. Man, it was cold. Just like my mood.

“You can wait inside, you know,” Mairead said, poking her head out the door.

“I know, but I’ve got ants in my pants.” I shifted my weight from foot to foot, then shoved my hands inside my jacket and wedged them under my armpits for warmth. “Besides, you just want me to help you rearrange the bookcases.”

“It wouldn’t hurt. I want to get it finished before openin’.”

“Tourist season is winding down,” I retorted.

“So?”

Turning back to the street, I resumed my watch. In the distance, I could see the single set of traffic lights shining through the mist and