Kindling Flames: Granting Wishes (The Ancient Fire Series Book 5) (2 page)

Patrick’s face fell as she shook her head.

She sat the box on the counter. “Thank you, but you really don’t have to do this.”

“No.” Patrick took up her hands and held them gently. “I am sworn to fulfill your wishes. True love, happiness, and waffles. And, if this doesn’t count as waffles, then I shall have to do better, cailín.” He actually bowed over her hand and kissed the back of it before turning to go.

“Wait!” Cathren yelled.

Patrick paused and looked back at her.

She held up her hand so he could see the bracelet. “What’s this?”

Patrick came back over and took her outstretched hand. “The sign of our deal.” He spun the thin chain on her wrist, making the golden shamrocks dance.

“But I don’t want anything from you,” Cathren complained. She had tried to get the chain off, but it proved to be unbreakable. Even wire cutters couldn’t damage the fine links.

“That’s not how it works, cailín.” Patrick let out a long breath. “You caught me, and I’ve promised to grant your wishes. I’ll not be forsworn in this.” He spun the chain again. “These bind me more than you.” A gentle bend curved his lips as he lifted her hand and kissed it again. “Forgive me, but I have other things I must do this night. By your leave?”

Cathren nodded her head, dumbfounded as Patrick released her and left.

Sarah came back out of the shelves. “Who was that?” She looked over at the door where Patrick had let himself out.

“Patrick Brogan,” Cathren answered numbly. Her mind was still not working right. She couldn’t figure out what he meant. How did the bracelet bind him? Could he really be a leprechaun?

Sarah pulled the box of Eggos over and tore into them. “Was he that strange dude you were talking about earlier?”

Cathren nodded. Sarah had been out getting something to eat when Patrick had stopped in the first time.

“Wow. If he offered me three wishes, I sure wouldn’t have picked waffles.” Sarah bit into the partially thawed waffle she’d pulled from the box.

Cathren glared at her. “And what would you have wished for?” she snapped as she took what was left of the Eggos away from Sarah and tucked them back into the box. She wrapped it in the bag Patrick had brought them in.

Sarah chewed on the cold waffle she’d managed to keep. “First of all, I’d ask for that.” She pointed towards the door where Patrick had left.

Cathren’s mouth fell open at the girl’s suggestion. She looked the young woman over. Yes, she could see the spiky-haired teen wishing for the carnal pleasures a man like Patrick could provide. If his arms and hands were any indication of what the rest of him looked like, he had the potential to be a fabulous lover. Cathren blushed as her mind whipped up some tasty fantasies starring a less-than-clothed version of the man. “Sarah!” she reprimanded the younger woman. “He’s not right in the head.” There was no way anyone that believed himself to be a leprechaun could be sane.

“But he’s right everywhere else.” Sarah’s voice took on a teasing note as she munched on the waffle.

Cathren just sputtered in disbelief as she stormed away from the laughing goth girl. The ideas kids came up with these days astounded her. Sure, Patrick wasn’t bad looking, especially from the back, but she wanted someone that was stable. Not some crackpot who thought he was some kind of mythical creature.

2

“What’s up?”

Cathren looked up from her beer at Mitzy. The woman’s short hair waved as she bobbed her head to the heavy beat of the music. Alchemy was hopping tonight. Cathren didn’t usually hang out with her, but they had become friends when Mitzy ran off some guys Cathren was having troubles with. “Not much,” Cathren said, unconvincingly. It had been nearly a week since Patrick had come into the shop. Thoughts of him would not stop playing across her mind. She had even started to have dreams about the man.

Mitzy grabbed the chair across from Cathren and spun it around. “Oh, come on.” She plopped down into it and crossed her arms over the back. “You can tell me.” The woman smiled encouragingly.

Cathren considered the trim girl patiently waiting for an answer. She didn’t look old enough to be in the bar, but she always seemed to be here. Cathren chewed on her lower lip as she tried to come up with an explanation the young woman would believe. “You ever meet someone that just confused you?” She started peeling the label on her bottle as she spoke.

“Sure.” Mitzy grinned. “All the time.” The woman sniffed and turned to look at something.

Cathren followed her line of sight to a young blonde in a black dress. The strap of a heavy-looking satchel ruined the line of her outfit. Seeing her party, the woman waved and went to a table where three other women were waiting.

Mitzy watched her for a moment before returning her attention to Cathren as if nothing had happened.

“You know her?” Cathren asked. She couldn’t help but wonder why Mitzy would be interested in her.

“Nope.” Mitzy waved the issue away. “So who is this person who confuses you?”

Cathren drew in a deep breath as she turned her thoughts to Patrick. “Some guy that came into our shop the other day.” Shaking her hand, she made the gold chain skitter around her wrist. She still hadn’t found a way to get it off.

The motion caught Mitzy’s attention. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Tell me about it.”

There was a seriousness to her voice that Cathren didn’t like. “Well,” Cathren started, “I’m not sure what he was looking for when he came in, but I stopped him from touching a broken shelf. The wires on the light were touching the metal. Anyway, I think the guy was nuts. He claimed he was a leprechaun and I’d caught him.”

Mitzy sat upright, shocked. “A leprechaun!”

Cathren laughed. “Yeah, crazy.”

“Did he give you his name?” Mitzy asked.

“Yeah, he gave me a card. Patrick Brogan,” Cathren answered.

“He owns the haberdashery on Claremont,” Mitzy said, still sounding surprised.

“Hats and Soles,” Cathren confirmed. “I drove past it just to see if this guy was for real, but I didn’t go in.”

“You caught yourself a leprechaun.” Mitzy chuckled, leaning against the back of her chair. “How’d you do it?”

“What?” Cathren asked, confused.

“How’d you catch him?”

“Oh, umm…” Cathren had to think about it for a moment. “I grabbed his arm before he could touch the shelf.”

“And?” Mitzy prompted.

Cathren didn’t know what else to say. “And, nothing.” She had grabbed him and gotten his arm bloody. “Oh, wait. There was a hole in his sweater, and I might have gotten some blood on him from where I’d cut myself on the shelf.”

Gripping the back of her chair, Mitzy leaned back and laughed. “Fantastic!” She sat forwards again, smiling. “Blood bound. And did he try to get away?”

“Ummm, he did tell me to release him.”

Mischief simmered in Mitzy’s eyes. “And did you?”

“Of course,” Cathren answered, offended. “But I did warn him not to touch the shelf. Wait.” She paused and looked at Mitzy. “You don’t believe he’s really a leprechaun, do you?”

The light dancing in Mitzy’s eyes said it all. “Why not?” she said. “Don’t you believe in the fay?”

Cathren took a moment to think about this. Her grandmother had taught her about lots of things. The old woman still sat a small bowl of milk and bread out on the back porch at night for the brownies, but her mother always insisted it was just the local strays eating the treat. She touched her locket that held the four-leaf clover. “Maybe,” Cathren said softly. She wasn’t sure her grandmother could have made up all the stories she told. Her grandmother had also insisted she wear the charm, claiming that it would protect her from the magic of the fay.

“Then what’s to say this man isn’t what he claims to be?” Mitzy added. “There’s more out there than you realize.”

Cathren looked up at the woman sitting across from her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she considered the girl. There was suddenly something unusual about her, but when Cathren blinked in disbelief, it was gone. She shook the feeling away before answering. “Should I take him at face value?”

“I would never take any fay at face value.” Mitzy rested her chin on her arms. “But he did say you caught him. That means he has to grant your wishes.” Mitzy sat up. “You did make wishes, right?”

“Yes.” Cathren spun the bracelet again. She did that a lot when she thought of Patrick. Somehow, the movement was very soothing.

“Were they good?” Mitzy grinned.

Cathren blushed. “They were kind of vague,” she admitted.

Mitzy held up an eyebrow waiting.

“True love, happiness, and waffles.”

Mitzy threw her head back and laughed. “That should keep him entertained for a while,” she said once she finished wiping the tears from her eyes.

“That’s what he said,” Cathren said glumly.

Mitzy reached over and patted her on the hand. “Don’t worry.” She smiled. “The fay love a good challenge.”

“You say that like they’re real.”

“Real or not, you should be happy.” Mitzy’s smile widened. “If I’m remembering him correctly, you have a really hot guy whose sole purpose in life is to find you true love and happiness.”

Cathren grinned. “And waffles.”

“And waffles.” Mitzy laughed. “How hard can that be?”

“He brought me Eggos.”

“Oh.” Mitzy’s face fell slightly. “You didn’t let that slide, did you?”

Cathren laughed. “Of course not.”

“Good, and don’t let him half-ass the true love and happiness thing either,” Mitzy said pointedly. “If it’s not true and doesn’t make you happy, don’t let it slide. Fay are bad at living up to the letter of the law but not the spirit.”

“Umm. Okay.” Now Mitzy was starting to worry Cathren. Did she really think Patrick could be a real leprechaun?

Mitzy pulled the mostly empty beer bottle out of Cathren’s hands “Now, why don’t you go give him a second chance on those waffles?”

“But I haven’t seen him since he stopped in to the shop,” Cathren protested as Mitzy pulled her to her feet.

“Then now’s the perfect time to go see him.” Mitzy steered her towards the door. “He’s had time to think about how he’s going to grant your wishes. Besides, tonight is game night. He’ll be at the shop until dawn.”

“Wait.” Cathren dug her heels in, making Mitzy stop. “You know this guy?”

“Yes.” Mitzy shifted her grip on Cathren, forcing her to start moving again. “And if you want a say in who your true love is going to be, then you had better get over there before Patrick ropes some sorry sucker into dating you.”

This got Cathren’s feet moving. She didn’t just want any man forced into being her true love. She wanted someone that
wanted
her!

***

The front of Hats and Soles looked like any other store in the small strip mall. The name of the shop was delicately painted on the inside of the large, glass window and a display of hats and shoes filled the open space. The sign on the door said closed, but Cathren had just watched a tall, well-dressed man come out and get into some expensive car. He hadn’t stopped to lock the door, so she knew it was open. Gathering up her courage, Cathren got out of the car. She hesitated as her fingers touched the cold handle of the shop door. She pulled her hand back, second-guessing her choice. Saying you were going to go visit a possible insane man and doing it were two different things. Mitzy’s words flashed through her head, strengthening her resolve. She did want a say in who her true love would be. Reaching out, she grabbed the door and pushed it open before she could change her mind again. A bell chimed, announcing her entrance.

“Did you decide to agree to my offer?” Patrick’s voice drifted in from the back of the shop. “She’s really a nice girl.”

“Ummm, hello?” Cathren was sure Patrick thought she was the man that had just left coming back.

“Cathren?”

Cathren’s breath caught as a silhouette blocked the light coming from the doorway in the back.

“What are you doing here?” Patrick moved so he was no longer backlit. He was dressed in the most amazing red jacket. For a moment, he had a mystical look that made Cathren almost believe he was the fay he claimed he was. It had something to do with the way the light reflected off the gold buttons that marched down the front of his coat.

Actually seeing him standing there kicked in her good sense. “I’m sorry.” She backpedaled the few steps she had taken.

“Wait,” Patrick cried as he raced across the room and placed his hand on the door, stopping Cathren from leaving. He reached out and took her hand from the doorknob, turning her to face him. “What brings you to my door, cailín?”

Cathren blushed and looked down at the lapels on Patrick’s coat. She picked at some lint as she tried to find an excuse to be there. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted after smoothing his jacket down. “I went out to the club, but I just wasn’t feeling it, and Mitzy suggested I stop by, and… I don’t know” She looked up to the amused look on Patrick’s face. “I’m sorry. It’s late. I should go.” She tried to turn, but Patrick would not release her hand.

“It’s all right,” he said, pulling her farther into the shop. “I’m glad you came.” Wrapping her hand up around his arm, he escorted her through the darkened shop to the lit doorway. “I was just seeing what I could do about your wishes.”

Cathren had never seen anything like the back of Patrick’s shop. The walls were lined with shelves and racks filled with what seemed like random items. The floor area was divided into two separate work spaces. One station held scraps of material, wire, and random tools. Hats in all stages of completion were randomly placed around the area. The overhead lights on this side of the room were off, casting it in shadow. The other work area was cleared of tools. The large table was filled with dice, cards, and an array of other small objects Cathren didn’t understand. This area was brightly lit with several high stools placed around the table.

Patrick brought her over to one of the stools and sat her down. “Can I get you something to drink?” He waved towards a pair of glasses that were already setting on the table. One looked like it held coffee while the other had some amber liquid in it.

“Just water, please,” Cathren answered. She didn’t think it would be wise to accept anything alcoholic, and coffee would keep her up for the rest of the night.

Smiling, Patrick went to a small refrigerator in the corner. “As you wish.” Pulling out a bottle of water, he grabbed a glass. “Your water, my lady.” Setting the glass on the table, he cracked the top on the water before placing it next to the glass and claiming the stool closest to her.

Cathren picked up the bottle. “Thank you.”

Patrick’s eyes flashed with amusement as she took a swig straight from the bottle, ignoring the glass. His fingers found the glass of amber liquid and pulled it over to him. “So…” He broke the silence that was falling around them. “What brings you out on this fine night?” He took a sip of his drink.

Cathren crinkled the plastic bottle as she thought. “Are you really a leprechaun?” she asked.

Patrick choked on his drink as it went down wrong.

“Sorry.” She patted him on the back as he coughed.

“Yes, cailín, I really am a leprechaun,” he wheezed when his coughing fit subsided. “I already told you that.”

Cathren turned to face the table. “I know.” Reaching out, she touched one of the strange objects lying on the table. She pushed on it, rolling it over. The flat sides of the roundish object were numbered. It looked like a die, but there were a whole lot more sides than the six she was used to seeing. “It’s just that… you can’t be a leprechaun; they’re not real.” She picked up the plastic thing and rolled it. The number twenty showed on top as it came to a stop.

Patrick chuckled at her. “I assure you, leprechauns and a whole slew of things you don’t believe in are real.” He smiled as he looked at the die. “Natural twenty. You are lucky.”

Cathren pulled her hands back from the table and folded them between her knees. “Then why are you in red?” She considered the bright jacket Patrick was sporting. “Aren’t leprechauns supposed to wear green?”

Patrick tugged on the front of his jacket, making sure it was on right. “No self-respecting leprechaun would be caught dead in green. Green is the color of the trouping fay. We leprechauns are solitary creatures by nature.” He brushed the sleeves of his jack as if cleaning them of dust. “Red is our color.”