Page 22 of The Scald Crow

The distance between us hummed, and my world became a muffled place where I could neither speak nor move.

“What? What are you?” My heart throbbed in sync with hers.

“What’s wrong, cupcake? Lost in the sunshine?” Her voice caressed my mind, sweet like cotton candy.

“Are you a witch?” My stomach dropped to the floor, and my ears popped. For the second time today, I felt alive.

“A witch? Hmm, I don’t think so.” She smirked, and my heart quaked.

“I didn’t expect to see you.” Free from her enchantment, I extended my fingers and bent each knuckle. I gazed at the soft skin beneath her jaw. “Or kiss you.”

“Not ever?” The hum left her fresh scent in its wake. She took one step forward, trailing the tip of one red fingernail along the edge of my jaw through two days of bristled scruff. “A new look, huh? Brings out the sparkle in your eyes. I like it.”

“Explain the vision.” Her touch sent heat arrowing in all directions. What I would give to be somewhere else, with that woman—my heart’s desire. I would willingly admit she held the advantage.

“What vision?” She smirked, tilting her face and pouting those lips.

There were too many people—too many eyes and ears within proximity.

“Hmm. You got it bad, huh?” She turned to leave, and the loss consumed me.

Emptiness—a sensation I hadn’t felt in such a long time—made my bones ache.

“Wait, we need to talk.” My mouth went dry, and that familiar hum returned, but the energy differed. My heart skipped erratically, the blood coursing through my veins energized.

“Looky here, lucky charm. I’m not lookin’ for a new bestie.” She smiled knowingly. When she moved, the aura surrounding her shimmered.

Was I the only one who could see it?

“Hey, a conversation. Give me that.” I offered my palms up in apology, hoping to gain her trust. Everything I thought I knew, I didn’t.

“I’m sorry about your father. Truly. It’s an awful thing. I know how painful it can be.” Her voice dropped one seductive octave. Calla Sweet, the girl on channel 549 who cried for the world, stared into my soul.

“It was a shock.” I grasped the wall with one hand. “Looks like you’re fitting right in.”

“Saoirse has been good to me.” Her gaze held me hostage.

I had the distinct impression she tested me.

“And Niall?” I mentioned the fiddle player, regret coating my tongue immediately.

“Niall? Are you jealous, Colm O’Donnell?” Her eyes danced with merriment.

“I’m concerned, that’s all. You’re new here.” I considered her question. Maybe I was. “So you sing? You’re a singer? I didn’t know that.” I attempted to change the subject. I wanted more than anything to relive that dream.

“Where is this going, Colm?” She placed her index finger on her chin and widened her eyes in animated wonder.

I wondered the same thing.

“Listen, I’m sorry for my outburst earlier. It was uncalled for. I’m glad you’re here.” I looked into her shadowy eyes, and again, my ears popped.

“You are?” She tilted her head, lifting the corners of her lips into a curious smile.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.” My confidence grew, and my psyche responded to her opalescent vibrations, luring sensations I had never experienced before meeting her.

“Hmm.” She crossed her arms and then exhaled. “Hey, which brother did I meet?”

“Sorry?” I asked, taken aback by her question. I dared not look too long into her eyes.

---