The Celtic Knot. Shannon MacLeod

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      * * * *

      “Damn clock!” Lily howled in frustration at having been awakened at such a crucial moment and smacked the top of the digital alarm to make the clamorous racket stop. With a heavy sigh, she reached into the satin bag and pulled a card for the day. Ace of Cups, beginnings of…love? She snatched up the phone and called Beth. “Do you remember my reoccurring dream?”

      “The scary one?” Beth asked.

      “That’s it. I had it again last night, but something’s changed. I saw…someone.”

      For once Beth listened without comment while Lily described her dream. “You didn’t see his face?” she asked.

      “Nope. What I did see was pretty nice, though,” Lily added remembering the rear view of the tight fitting pants the man had been wearing.

      “Well, I am shocked. You’re supposed to be analyzing your dream and all you’re doing is looking at the guy’s ass,” Beth scolded. “Do you think this is somebody you’re supposed to meet? And even more important, was it a nice ass?”

      “I don’t know what I’m thinking and yes, it was nice,” she answered truthfully. She stretched again as the cat hopped up on the bed and presented her tummy for a rub. “Bella doesn’t like Lucas at all.”

      “Failing the cat test is a deal breaker, you know. It’s in the Witches Handbook. Chapter four, section eight, paragraph two-a…” She paused then continued in a more sober tone. “What do you want to bet if you do marry him he makes you get rid of her?”

      “He wouldn’t dare. He knows how much I love my Bella girl,” she cooed, scratching the happy cat under the chin.

      “I doubt he’ll even care. You’re headed for a Me or the Cat showdown and cats always trump. Anyway, there’s no way in hell he’ll let her sleep with the two of you,” Beth assured her. “Pretty soon you’ll be taking your ring off.”

      With the heat burning in her cheeks, Lily glanced down at the small silver abstinence ring on her right hand. At the tender age of thirteen, she and Beth had taken the pledge at her parent’s church to wait to have sex until they were truly in love. The vow used to say marriage, but even the church was getting realistic about raging teenage hormones and decided getting them to wait at all was a step in the right direction. Lucas got his after he met Lily three years later and still wore it. Lily took her vow seriously, but she often wondered if Lucas did the same.

      * * * *

      On Friday, the Bell Insurance Agency closed at four PM, giving Lily just enough time to run home and change into her costume before Beth arrived to drive them to the Castle. When they pulled into the employee’s parking lot in Beth’s aging sedan, Lily gasped at the already manic activity. “Just look at all the people dressed up. Wow–they’ve got horses here now? Are those turkey legs? Look at all this stuff, this is amazing!”

      “Come on.” Beth laughed, bustling her way through the growing crowd and street vendors, dragging Lily, gaping, behind her.

      At the gypsy tent, Beth suggested Lily watch her read for a couple of patrons, mini three-card readings about ten minutes long each. She became more and more confident as she watched, so when Beth stood up and offered Lily her chair, she didn’t hesitate.

      About an hour later, Lily had just finished a reading when Lucas strolled in. A handsome man in his mid-twenties, his short blond hair was stylishly spiked and still smelled faintly of its recent frosting. Clad in Dockers, a polo shirt, and an unmistakable look of disapproval, he glanced around the tent. His gaze landed on Beth and his upper lip curled in distaste. Eyes of ice blue flickered over Lily then peered past her, still searching. Amused, Lily watched him for a moment before she spoke.

      “Came to check out the park?” she asked sweetly.

      Lucas stared at her, then up and down at her outfit and hair. His laughter was harsh. “You gotta be kidding me. Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look?”

      Lily felt her happy balloon suddenly deflate. Struggling to keep her face impassive, she picked an imaginary piece of lint from her skirt. “No, but I’m sure you’ll enlighten me,” she said.

      At her sudden change of tone, he reconsidered his hasty words. “It’s just…I don’t know…these people around here, all dressed up in these stupid outfits. It’s like kid stuff, you know?”

      Lily lifted her chin a little in defiance. “Just because you don’t like it doesn’t make it either stupid or ridiculous. You paint your face when you watch college football on TV, so I don’t think you’re one to judge.” She smoothed the front of her skirt. “I love dressing up like this. It’s like being a part of history.”

      Lucas waved a hand. “Whatever. I’m not going to hang out here in Fantasyland, though,” he said with a snort. “Later.” Without another word, he spun on his heel and stalked out of the tent.

      Lily shuddered and glanced at Beth, who was busy with an obviously enamored young couple, entwined and piled onto one small chair. The other reader, jovial thirty-something Esmeralda, sat at another table swinging her foot while she waited for another guest to come in.

      The air in the tent grew suddenly stuffy and constrictive. Lily caught Beth’s eye, pointing to the tent entrance and her friend nodded, giving her a warm, reassuring smile. Once outside, Lily gulped in several steadying breaths of the cool evening breeze. After a few moments of watching the guests come and go, she turned to go back to her table but stopped when she caught a glimpse of something white and fluffy moving out of the corner of her eye. Every nerve in her body tingled as deja vu swept over her.

      He was standing right there, on the other side of the street.

      She had a vague sense of her mouth hanging open. It’s him, the guy from my dream, it has to be, she thought with a shiver of…of what? Anticipation? You’re getting all worked up over nothing, she chided herself, but still struggling to draw a decent breath, she just couldn’t shake the feeling something…momentous…was about to happen.

      Topping six feet by several inches, he stood with his back to her, his lion’s mane of auburn curls ruffling in the light breeze. His long muscular legs were encased in black form-hugging pants with nary a wrinkle in sight just like the Highwayman poem, even where they disappeared into his thigh high leather boots. The fluffy attention getter was the feather plume adorning his cavalier hat, bobbing animatedly as he talked with a young man of similar height and garb, whose blond locks reached below his collar. When the other man raised his hand in parting, Lily tried to slip back inside the tent, but couldn’t will her feet or legs to move. He’s going to see me standing here staring at him like a lunatic, she thought frantically, but remained rooted to the spot, frozen and transfixed. Her heart raced with both fear and excitement. She glared down at her shoes as if trying to scare her feet into moving, but that didn’t work either.

      To her horror, those buttery soft black boots came to a stop directly in front of her, and she slowly raised her eyes to gaze at the man standing before her. Those tight pants laced up the sides and were paired with a sleeveless black leather doublet and white poet’s shirt, open at the collar. Lily raised her gaze further to look into his face, and was mesmerized by what she saw. He was devastatingly handsome, no doubt about it–chiseled jaw, high cheekbones and sinful, sensual lips. When he smiled at her, his even white teeth flashed against sun kissed skin. But his eyes…they СКАЧАТЬ