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As they ate their meals, Felicity listened to Niall talk about his sisters, his father, and how important family was to him. She found it difficult not to fall in love. Although, his father sounded stern and a bit controlling. But after her parents died, she’d longed for family. She was lucky to have such devoted friends as Nathan and Cyn. She talked about university, Cyn, and her job at Everyday Supernatural, which he seemed fascinated about, rather than being sceptical or snide when she explained what her job entailed in more detail. Of course, she was always open with Cyn, who’d never judged her for her odd line of work, but she usually gave vague responses to anyone else when it came to her job.
Yes, I write about ghosts, the Loch Ness Monster, and UFO sightings. Pleased to meet you. I’m really not a nutter.
Felicity sipped her drink as she watched the band play Irish music.
Niall grabbed her hand. “Come on. Dance with me.”
She didn’t dance, let alone do whatever it was they were doing. She tried to tug her hand away, but Niall wouldn’t let go. “I can’t. I don’t know how to dance like that.”
His amber eyes glinted as he smiled. “It’s a céilí dance...just follow me.”
She hesitated, but let him lead her onto the dance floor. They joined, and quickly she found herself smiling up at him. Niall grabbed her arms in a hold that was unfamiliar to her and spun her in a circle. Her hair flew as he swung her across the floor, and she laughed louder than she ever had. Felicity was always self-conscious when it came to dancing.
“This is fun,” she said breathlessly.
“You sound surprised.”
Felicity smiled. “Not when I’m with you.”
“There’s probably something I should tell you, love.”
“What?”
“Maybe it’s better if I show you instead.”
Her smile faded. Crap. Crap. No. Crap. She didn’t know why, but she imagined whatever he had to tell her couldn’t be good. It never was. Starting out a conversation with something like that had always led to an admission she didn’t want to hear.
“You’re not married, are you?”
He grinned. “Married? No, definitely not.”
“All right.”
“Will you walk with me?”
Felicity nodded. Curiosity got the better of her, despite the reservations swirling through her mind. It’d be best to know about any skeletons in his closet now. Besides, she was going back to London once she’d finished her investigation. She had a story to write. The fact-finding part of her took over as he led her toward the bar to pay their tab. Before they got there, the construction worker she’d seen earlier talking to Mr. Archer came through the door, his head gushing blood. The music stopped and everyone in the pub stared at the bleeding man staggering into Tí Joe Watty’s.
“We are haunted. We’re plagued by the púca,” he shouted hysterically.
People began to whisper, and a few even made hurried good-byes. With superstition running amok, they probably wanted to head home before it got too dark. No one questioned him, but she fully intended to get his story. The full story, which her gut told her was highly suspect. She’d seen this a million times before when people tried to fake the supernatural. There was always a reason. So Felicity went to confront him. She’d get to the bottom of this. There had to be a reasonable explanation for the gruesome cut on his forehead, which was dripping blood into his eye.
“What happened?”
The man glanced sideways and slumped into an empty chair. “I was working on the construction site when a púca charged me. And then it threatened me.”
“It could have been a horse,” Felicity said.
“Horses don’t talk,” Niall said, dryly. He’d followed her across the bar.
“What did it say?” Felicity asked, grabbing a notepad from her purse to jot down notes.
The man grabbed a napkin from the table and dabbed at his wound. “I...don’t remember exactly, but he threatened me, charged, then I stumbled to the side and hit my head on a rock.”
“A púca charged you?” Niall asked incredulously.
Felicity didn’t believe his story either, not for one minute. His shifty eyes and something about the way he told the story validated her belief that he was hiding something.
“Aye, a púca charged me. There was nothing I could do.”
She and Niall eyed the man, and she could almost tell Niall was thinking the same thing.
“And you don’t remember its threat?” Felicity asked.
The man looked like he was thinking of an answer, but he didn’t respond right away.
Too long. You should know.
“He said something about building on sacred land. Aye, that was what he said to me.”
“How do you know the púca was a he?” Niall asked.
Good question. That was exactly what she’d been about to say—they were almost in sync with their interrogation. It was bloody scary, but in a good way.
“Right...how do you know? I didn’t realize you were a púca expert.”
The man shifted from foot to foot and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Aye, everyone knows the púca are stallions that pillage the village at night.”
Niall snorted. “Lad, you’ve got some sense of humor.”
“And what did the púca look like?” Felicity asked.
“It was a stallion—black as midnight...”
He’d taken a step back when he answered, and she certainly didn’t believe he was telling the truth. In her line of work, she knew how to detect a lie when she bloody well saw one.
“Right,” Niall said, bumping the man as he made his way toward the door.
“Well, if you remember anything else, don’t hesitate to stop by Pier House and ask for Felicity Forrest.”
She doubted he’d do it, but she figured she might as well give him her standard response for supernatural witnesses, despite the fact she figured he’d probably manufactured the whole thing. Why would the construction worker choose the pub for his announcement? The island wasn’t big, but the site was a decent walk from there and if she’d been attacked and was bleeding the first thing would be getting cleaned up. Not walking half-way across the bloody island for a beer. She followed Niall through the pub door, and they spilled into the chilly evening air. She turned to him with a wary smile. She’d almost had enough surprises for one night.
“So what do you want to show me?”
