Page 4 of Shamrocks & Second Chances

“I think I know.” I grab my coat and bag. “Come on, we’re going to the Moonlit Inn.”

“So we are helping him,” Hecate says smugly, jumping into my bag.

“We’re investigating a magical mystery that might affect the whole town,” I correct her, though I’m not entirely convinced myself. “It has nothing to do with Seamus.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Her voice is muffled as she burrows deeper into my bag. “But for the record, I still think we should bite his ankles. Just a little nip. For old times’ sake.”

I lock the café door behind us and step into the cool evening air, the note clutched in my hand. Despite my reservations, excitement bubbles up inside me. A magical hunt for stolen leprechaun gold? It’s certainly not how I expected my day to end.

As we walk toward the Moonlit Inn, its Victorian façade glowing with enchanted lanterns, I can’t help wondering if I’m making a huge mistake. Getting involved with Seamus again, even just to solve this mystery, feels dangerous, like poking at a wound that’s only half-healed.

Yet the note in my hand pulses with magic, calling to me, and deep down, beneath the hurt and anger, I’m curious. Why was the gold stolen? Why involve me? And most importantly, who has the power to pull off such a theft? Somewhere in the Moonlit Inn library might be the next clue to this bizarre search.

Chapter 2—Seamus

I WATCH BELLA THROUGHthe window of Moonwake Café, my heart twisting with every movement she makes. Her green hair catches the afternoon sunlight as she laughs with a customer. Even from this distance, I can see the same sparkle in her brown eyes that captivated me the first time we met.

The stone bridge where I’ve stationed myself offers a perfect vantage point of the café. It arches over the small stream that runs through the center of Evershift Haven, its ancient stones worn smooth by centuries of footsteps. I lean against the weathered railing, tracing the intricate Celtic knots carved into the stone. The symbols change with the events and seasons, just like everything else in town.

“You’re a fool, Seamus O’Connell,” I mutter to myself, the words carried away by the gentle spring breeze.

Two years. Two years since I walked away from the only woman I’ve ever truly loved. Two years of regret that gnaws at me every waking moment. I had my reasons—family pressure, tradition, and the expectations that come with being born into one of the oldest leprechaun clans. None of those reasons seem important now when I see the hurt I’ve caused.

A group of pixies flutter past, their gossamer wings catching the sunlight. They whisper among themselves, pointing in my direction. News travels fast in Evershift Haven. By sunset, everyone will know I’m back.

I straighten my emerald green shirt, adjusting the Celtic embroidery at the cuffs. My fingers brush against the emptypouch at my belt that should contain my gold. The theft still stings, not just because of what was taken, but because of what it represents. A leprechaun without his gold is like a dragon without fire—diminished.

The scent of fresh coffee and baked goods wafts from the café, mingling with the earthy smell of the stream below. My stomach rumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten since morning. I ignore it. Food can wait. Bella can’t.

Heavy footsteps approach from behind, accompanied by the distinctive sound of metal tools clinking together. I don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“Stalking is frowned upon in polite societies, leprechaun.”

I turn to face Throk Ironheart, the town’s mechanic. The orc towers over me, his green skin a shade darker than mine, marked with intricate tribal patterns. Despite his imposing size, his amber eyes hold a gentle humor.

“It’s not stalking if she knows I’m here,” I say, offering him a half-hearted smile. “How’ve you been, Throk?”

The orc leans against the bridge railing beside me, his massive arms crossed over his broad chest. He’s wearing his usual work clothes—oil-stained overalls with the sleeves torn off, revealing muscular green arms covered in grease.

“Better than you, from the looks of it.” Throk nods toward the café. “You know she’s going to make you suffer, right?”

I sigh, running a hand through my wild red hair. “I deserve it.”

“Yes, you do.” Throk’s bluntness is refreshing. No sugarcoating, just honest truth. “But that doesn’t mean she won’t help you. Bella’s got a good heart, even if she pretends otherwise.”

“I’m counting on it.” I glance at him. “How’s business at Mystical Motors?”

Throk grins, his small tusks protruding slightly. “Booming. Just finished enchanting a 1967 Mustang for a banshee from the next pocket universe over. She wanted it to wail louder than she does.”

I laugh, the sound rusty from disuse. “That must’ve been a challenge.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” He pauses, his expression growing serious. “I’m engaged now.”

This catches me by surprise. “Really? Congratulations. Who’s the lucky person?”

“Suzette Winters. She’s human.” Pride fills his voice. “Lawyer from the human world who stumbled into Evershift Haven. Thought this was some elaborate tourist attraction, and I was in a bodysuit, when she first saw me.”

“A human?” I raise my eyebrows. “That must’ve gone over well with the orc elders.”

---