Page 137 of Lucky In Love

He had been warned about the fairy rings and fairy trees. “Such a load of malarkey,” he said to the others. “There are no such things as fairies.” He laughed, took a stone from the fairy ring and stuck it in his pocket to prove it.

Yet, since then, he has had a run of bad luck to go with the nightmares that plagued him. First, his plane home was delayed due to engine problems, a flat tire, and a gas leak. His carryon had been stolen. When he finally made it to the United States, it took so long to clear immigration that he missed his connecting flight. He finally arrived home days later.

He hoped his bad luck would change if he sent the stone back to Ireland.

Byron’s nightmares varied each night. The first horrendous dream he’d had, he was still in Ireland.

“Thief!” He heard as he was running, feeling like something was chasing him. The dream had started with him standing by the fairy ring. Something whizzed by him, startling him. His adrenaline kicked in, and he knew he had to escape.

He ran as fast as possible but couldn’t get very far. He entered the woods only to find the exact fairy ring. “Thief!” He could hear heavy footsteps behind him with a slight fluttering sound he couldn’t quite place.

“Thief!”

He panicked further and kept running in circles. The footsteps seemed closer, yet he saw no one. The cry reverberated around him each time he came to the fairy ring.

“Thief!”

In a frantic terror, he awoke, his heart still racing, his skin clammy. Since sleep evaded him, he walked around his room until the sun rose and he could head to the airport to come home. If only he knew better, then. He would have returned the stone immediately.

His nightly torment continued each time he slept.

Maybe he should go back to Ireland and the fairy ring, after all, to beg their forgiveness, but he didn’t have the stone any longer and wasn’t sure where it was. A part of him still believed it was just a powerful suggestion about the fairy curse, but lack of sleep made him question his rationality.

Chapter Two

Byron carried the heavy gargoyle onto his porch. He had a brick home, and the gargoyle would look great on top of the building. When he saw one in an antique store, he couldn’t resist having it for himself.

When the weekend came, he would get the ladder out to put it on his rooftop.

Once he settled in, he plopped down a beer. Several beers later, he couldn’t keep his eyes open no matter how hard he tried. He heard footsteps, but it didn’t matter to him. He was sure it was just the television. Silence soon surrounded him, and soon he was in a wooded forest.

“Come with me,” a soft, feminine voice called from behind.

He turned to look at her and was stunned. Her features were tender, gentle, and kind. She held her hand out. Her long bronze hair blew lightly in the slight breeze. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place her. Her eyes bewitched him with their amber color.

“Who are you?”

“Angela. Now come.” She waved her fingers at him.

“Byron,” he said simply. He slipped his hand in hers. He let her lead him away from the small grove he had found himself in.

They had barely traveled a few feet when they found themselves surrounded by two figures.

Chapter Three

“Stop!” one male strode forward, his hands clenched.

“Thief,” the other chimed.

The closest male was very handsome, with light brown hair and silver eyes. His ears were pointed, the tips sticking out of his long hair. The other was just as stunning as the angry man who had confronted the couple.

The woman whose hand Byron was still holding, pulled him closer. “He is under my protection now.”

They laughed at her. “You’re in our territory,” the closest man said. “Leave before you start a war with us as well. He’s ours to punish for his insolence.”

Byron’s companion chuckled softly. “You may rule this land; and you have set forth this punishment, but I’ll fight for him. I’ll protect him.”

The two men stepped closer together, and suddenly, both sprouted wings on their backs; their gossamer appendages shimmered in the light.

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