Read Online Emerald Isle by Barbra Annino - Free Book Online

destruction.”
    Birdie was shocked. “You’re going to arrest me for hitting a mailbox?”
    Leo looked as uncomfortable as Birdie felt. “I really have no choice. All it will amount to is a citation, and you can bond out right away. You’ll be back with Stacy in no time.”
    From his lips
, Birdie thought. “Leo, please, I have a dinner table full of guests. Just tell me who the homeowner is and I’ll call to straighten this mess out.”
    Leo grimaced. “It’s Bea Plough.”
    It was the last name she wanted to hear at that moment. Bea Plough was a burdensome, bigoted albatross. She was the wife of Oscar’s best friend, Stan, so Birdie had been forced to endure the woman’s presence for the span of her marriage. But when she discovered that Bea was substitute teaching at the school district years later—and preaching hellfire and brimstone in the classroom—Birdie was livid. So when Anastasia announced that her history teacher had taken ill shortly after assigning a big project, she helped the girl reconstruct the Hill of Tara, complete with the ancient Celtic pantheon at the helm. Bea had nearly had a stroke.
    Fiona came sailing into the room then, donned in a frilly apron the color of a pomegranate, carrying a coffee cup. “Birdie, I wondered if you might have a taste of this soup. I think it needs a touch more curry. Oh, hello, Leo.” She gave him a warm smile.
    Leo said, “Hello, Mrs. Geraghty.”
    Birdie reached for the soup cup, but Fiona snatched it back.
    “On second thought, Sister, I think I would prefer this young man’s opinion.” Fiona floated over to Leo and gently touched his sleeve. She said in a silky voice that no man could resist, “Would you be a dear?”
    Leo smiled and accepted the cup from Fiona’s soft hand. “Why not? I’m starving.” He held the cup in the air, said, “Cheers,” and gulped it down.
    Leo looked at the empty mug. Fiona watched as he savored the soup.
    “Hmm, pretty tasty. Are those chunks of appl—”
    Fiona rescued the mug as Leo slumped to the floor.
    I uncurled myself from the floor of my prison and stood to face the woman who’d just spoken my name.
    She had hair the color of ravens’ wings, but her skin was so pale, it was practically translucent. She wore a lustrous dress buckled at the waistline, with a high collar, and enough cleavage to nurse a small village. Her eyes took on an indigo hue in the fading golden glow of the sun as she stood there, laughing at me.
    More children laughed too, although I couldn’t see them. Just tiny fireflies popping around the forest, preparing for their evening flight.
    A crow came and landed on the woman’s shoulder, but he didn’t peck at her, the bastard. He didn’t morph into something out of
Jurassic Park
either, and for that, I was grateful.
    “Wh-who are you?” I asked, because I couldn’t think of anything less stupid to say.
    More laughter.
    She slinked around the cage, like a cat sizing up a parakeet.
    “You don’t recognize me?” The woman leaned into the bird and said, “Shocking.”
    The crow bobbed its head up and down as if that were the best joke he’d heard all week.
    The dark-haired woman whipped her skirt around, sending feathers to the forest floor, and faced me. “Stacy Justice, I’m a trifle hurt that you do not know who standsbefore you on this cherished night. After all, you just spoke to me not a frog’s spit ago.”
    A frog’s spit ago? Who says stuff like that? Crazy people, that’s who.
She didn’t look anything like the woman from Birdie’s scrying mirror, and the only other soul I had spoken to was that irritating riddler ghost. But this woman looked very much alive.
    She reached in through the bars and wrapped her sinewy fingers around the grip of my sword. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized it was still with me.
    Instantly, the weapon vibrated, and shiny sparks of light like splintered diamonds burst all around the blade, then circled up and over my body, sending