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“Including twenty-eight pairs of designer shoes—bought at discount, but still. That stung some, but I wanted the break clean. And I needed the money to come here. To stay here. I have a work visa. I’ll get a job, find a place to live.”

She picked up another cookie, hoping it would stop the flood of words, but they just kept pouring out. “I know it’s crazy spending so much to stay at Ashford, but I just wanted it. I’ve got nothing back there but Nan, not really. And she’ll come if I ask her. I feel like I might fit here. Like things might balance here. I’m tired of not knowing why I don’t belong.”

“What was your work?”

“I was a riding instructor. Trail guide, stable hand. I’d hoped to be a jockey once, but I love them too much, and didn’t have the passion for racing and training.”

Watching her, Branna only nodded. “It’s horses, of course.”

“Yeah, I’m good with them.”

“I’ve no doubt of that. I know one of the owners of the stables here, the hotel uses them for guests. They do trail rides, and riding lessons and the like. I think Boyle might find a place for you.”

“You’re kidding? I never figured to get stable work right off. I figured waitress, shop clerk. It would be fabulous if I could work there.”

Some would say too good to be true, but Iona had never believed that. Good should be true.

“Look, I’ll muck out stalls, groom. Whatever he needs or wants.”

“I’ll have a word with him.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” Iona said, reaching for Branna’s hand. As they touched, gripped, heat and light flashed.

Though Iona’s hand trembled, she didn’t pull away, didn’t look away.

“What does it mean?”

“It means it may be time at last. Did cousin Mary Kate give you a gift?”

“Yes. When I went to see her, when she told me.” With her free hand, Iona reached for the chain under her sweater, took out the copper amulet with the sign of the horse.

“It was made by Sorcha for her youngest child, her daughter—”

“Teagan,” Iona supplied. “To shield her from Cabhan. For Brannaugh it was the hound—I should have realized that when I saw the dog. And for Eamon, the hawk. She told me the stories as long as I can remember, but I thought they were stories. My mother insisted they were. And she didn’t like Nan telling them to me. So I stopped telling her—my mother—about them. My mother prefers to just sort of glide along.”

“That’s why it is the amulet wasn’t passed to her, but to you. She wasn’t the one. You are. Cousin Mary Kate would come, but we knew she wasn’t the one, but like a guardian for the amulet, for the legacy. It was passed to her by others who guarded and waited. Now it comes to you.”

 

; And you, Branna thought, have come to me.

“Did she tell you what you are?” Branna asked.

“She said . . .” Iona let out a long breath. “She said I’m the Dark Witch. But you—”

“There are three. Three is good magick. So now we’re three. You and I, and Connor. But each must accept the whole, and themselves, and the legacy. Do you?”

Hoping for calm, Iona took a gulp of whiskey-laced tea. “I’m working on it.”

“What can you do? She wouldn’t have passed this to you unless she was sure. Show me what you can do.”

“What?” Iona wiped suddenly damp palms on her jeans. “Like an audition?”

“I’ve practiced all my life; you haven’t. But you are the blood.” Branna tilted her head, her beautiful face skeptical. “Have you no skills as yet?”

“I’ve got some skills. It’s just I’ve never . . . except with Nan.” Annoyed, uneasy, Iona drew the candle on the table closer. “Now I’m nervous,” she muttered. “I feel like I’m trying out for the school play. I bombed that one.”

“Clear your mind. Let it come.”


Tags: Nora Roberts The Cousins O'Dwyer Trilogy Fantasy