Page 32 of Hallow Hill at Halloween: Part One

“I’m not mad, Maggie. He got me tomarryhim with that act.”

“Blessed be the saints for givin’ you the life ye deserve. Here. With us.”

I smiled wide and thought,Yeah. Exactly.

Dolan seemed to be waiting for something. “Thanks, Dolan. As you were.”

He nodded and withdrew having never said one word. Good old Dolan.

To Maggie, I said, “It is nice to have a man around, right?”

“Why?” She looked mystified.

“Because people like my ex respect men more than…”

She drew herself up to the full five feet three inches of her human form and said, “He respects that brounie more than the banshee?!?”

She was incredulous.

“Well, I didn’t mean that exactly. He doesn’t know you’re banshee. Just like he doesn’t know Dolan is a brounie.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly. “Aye. I suppose ‘tis true.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’m very afraid of you,” I offered.

After a slight pause in which she appeared to be judging that statement for signs of truthfulness, we both laughed.

“Glad you’re not miffed about the misunderstandin’,” she said. “’Tis a happy accident ye came when ye did. ‘Twould no’ have done for him to show up at John David’s party.”

I shook my head in support of that.

“Speaking of John David, I was on my way to his place to talk about the ball.”

“Well, tell him I said he should consider havin’ everyone wear green.”

“You think a green theme would work best for an October vampire ball?” I asked, just to see if she’d stand by that.

“Anytime is a good time for green, I say.”

“Yes. Well. I’ll mention it, but don’t be disappointed if he decides to put that off until, um, spring maybe?”

“Spring is a lovely time for green,” she said.

I nodded. “Isn’t it?”

I let Romeo have control so that I could relax and enjoy the drive. He’d been to John David’s often enough to know the way even if he didn’t have satellite navigation.

Since moving to England, I’d learned that I have a weird appreciation for sheep. I liked all the breeds in the area, but I was particularly fond of the colorful Jacob sheep that look like paint horses with four horns, the Herdwick with their white faces and wiry gray/black fleeces, and the tiny Hebrideans with their dense dark fleeces and startling yellow eyes.

I know about the Hebrideans mostly from my walks with Lochlan. They’re rare in middle England but are well suited to the steep hills that rise above my little village.

The slowing car roused me from dozing just as we turned in at the massive stacks that marked the entrance to John David’s estate.

“Oh. We’re here,” I said sleepily.

“Yes, madam,” Romeo answered politely. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“Well, it was short.” I paused. “Romeo, do you feel I’m being rude if I sleep on our outings?”

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