Page 44 of Rekindled Prophecy

Thomas left a disappointing message. “Sorry. Nothing to report on last night’s demon siege. Psychics tend to attract all sorts of spirits, but that many demons and outright monsters indicate something far more troubling is up. Do you think Kael called in the demonic mod squad when he saw you leave last night?”

Greylyn did not think that was possible. Even if he did guess where she had been going, it was unlikely he could have convened such a multitude of evil entities on such short notice. It seemed more likely that the battalion had been stationed there as a pre-emptive measure. Either way, the increased presence of demons to keep anyone else away from Sofia made her nervous.

Tires crunched on the gravel driveway. Her best chance to discover if anything else was amiss that could threaten Kelly and her child would be to mingle with the guests before the wedding, or to beat it out of Kael.

Now, that is the best idea I have had all day. Why hadn’t I thought of that before?

Prophecy or not, she had no intention of allowing anyone or anything to spoil Kelly’s big day.

One more try to reach Sofia before heading out was unsuccessful. Still no answer. She called Thomas back to request he keep trying the number.

Finally, on the fifth ring, an obviously irritated Thomas answered. “What now, Greylie? Bit busy here, darling.”

Without apology for adding to his workload, she explained the situation with Sofia and gave him the contact information. After just a bit of playful pleading, he readily agreed to pursue locating the psychic.

“I’ll give my contacts in DC a buzz,” he assured her.

She was not sure how he knew so many people, but healwaysknew someone, no matter where she was located. Feeling better with Thomas on the case, she sweetly begged him to call her as soon as he learned anything. “And thank you. You’re the best.”

“Damn well better believe that.”

She paused before hanging up. “Sparky?”

“Yeah, babe? What else is bothering you?” His voice dipped tiredly.

“Sofia’s message said something about a prophecy…”

The loud inhale of breath indicated Thomas knew just how dangerous that word could be.

She continued, “…and that the dark entity currently surrounding me isn’t the real danger. You don’t think she means Kael, do you?”

Silence greeted her question. After several seconds, she grew concerned when he did not respond. “Thomas?”

“First off,” he sighed, “prophecies are not my area of expertise. I know enough to cringe when I hear there’s one. I have yet to hear of a prophecy, at least in the last two thousand years, that was a good thing.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “As for Kael? Are you kidding me? Of course, he’s dangerous. To you. To everyone. How could you dare to imagine otherwise?”

Yeah, how could she think that was a possibility? This was Kael we were talking about. “I know. It was just … oh, never mind. I claim temporary insanity.”

With that, she quickly ended the call. More disappointment coiled in her gut. She had not realized how much she had wanted to believe it was true that Kael was not the real enemy.

Greylyn took one last glance in the standalone, full-length mirror next to the closet. In her new lavender linen sundress and strappy silver low-heel sandals, her skin practically glowed. Her raven hair shone like a swatch of fine silk, and the mascara accentuated her large emerald eyes. Combined with her flawless complexion, she looked as magical as she was, and she could not help feeling happy about that. Although vanity was not particularly an angelic virtue. A spritz of jasmine perfume, and she was ready.

She walked into the sitting room just as Matthew was demonstrating the size of a fish he almost caught on his and Kelly’s recent trip to the Outer Banks. Apparently, it was “this BIG!”

As he finished his story, Matthew noticed her entrance. With a big smile, he waved his arms to beckon her to join them. “Hey, everyone, here is someone I would like you all to meet. We just met last night, but Kelly and I both adore her already. This is Greylyn. She has kindly agreed to join us for the wedding, even though I’m sure that wasn’t her intention in coming to Gaelic Haven this weekend. But we managed to rope her into it somehow.” His eyes glinted mischievously. Perhaps he had the same romantic notions about her and Kael that the ladies did.

He then made the round of introductions of his family and future-in-laws. His parents, Luke and Janice, were divorced but acted amicably enough despite last night’s dire predictions to the contrary. His stepmother, standing on the other side of her husband, looked highly uncomfortable. The rest of family cast nervous glances between the two ladies.

When she shook hands with everyone, Greylyn did not get that special tingling feeling whenever evil was around or someone was thinking of doing anything malicious.

All good so far.

Greylyn racked her brain to remember what Matthew had said about the rest of his family but could not recall. At the time they were discussing his siblings last night over dinner, Kael’s leg had brushed up against hers. All coherent thought had flown out the window. She did not start listening again until Kelly busted her on her lack of attention. That had been embarrassing.

The round of handshakes revealed no malevolent intentions, despite a sense of unease Greylyn felt from Matthew’s sister-in-law with the too-sugary sweet voice. His sister’s incessant giggling triggered minor annoyance, but no concern.

An elderly silver-headed gentleman in a light gray, three-piece suit stood up to introduce himself. It was easy to surmise this was Kelly’s father, a proper Southern gentleman with a most refreshing Southern accent straight out ofThe Andy Griffith Show. Father and daughter had the same honest, hazel eyes and heart-shaped face. His skin was leathery and seamed, his eyes tired. Nothing but peace and an encompassing sense of love radiated when she shook his hand. Instantly, she felt a familiar connection to him. Must be because Kelly seemed most like him.

Kelly’s mother was a petite woman in her late fifties with short, mostly gray hair and a kind smile. She was decked out in the pinkest floral outfit Greylyn had ever seen. Honestly, the woman was so obviously Southern and adorable that she belonged in the middle of a Fannie Flagg novel. She even smelled like a rose garden. Again, the handshake was soft and Greylyn felt only love and a deep sense of home.

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