Page 175 of A Winding Wave of Magic
“His energy is bright red, like blood,” Robbie said. “Common enough for a shifter. But right now, while he’s dancing with the plain girl there, his energy reaches for her and hers to him. But they never blend. Never would either, even if they won’t be sleeping alone tonight.”
We chuckled. It was clear by the look in both of their eyes and by the closer proximity of their bodies that Robbie was probably right.
“And I’ll tell you something else, Cassandra,” he continued. “Caomhán’s energy doesn’t change a bit when he stands with you. And yours remains just as blue as your eyes.” He took another long swig of his beer and tipped it in my direction, a silent salute to my eternally liquid state. “So, no. I’m not worried. At least, not about him.”
Before I could ask who hewasworried about, the song ended and Caomhán came bounding back.
“Had enough of a break? Or can I persuade you for one last dance before I go?”
“What about your partner?” I asked. The blonde was obviously smitten.
“Who do you think is waiting for me to take her home? But she’ll be here when we’re done. I asked the band to play this song for my cousin.”
As if on cue, the band broke into the well-known chords of “Galway Girl.”
“This isn’t even an Irish song,” I pointed out. “Steve Earle was American.”
Robbie gave a great guffaw, and Caomhán shrugged. “Why do you have to be so difficult? It’s about an Irish girl who looks like you, isn’t it?”
I was about to protest some more when he sang the lyrics about the girl with black hair and blue eyes along with the rest of the crowd, all of whom obviously knew the words. It might be written by an American, but it was definitely a crowd-pleaser.
Caomhán tugged me out onto the floor, and I let myself bask in the carefree nature of the song, the crowd, and my cousin’s safe, friendly touch. When had I ever felt such simple ease as this among large groups of people? For maybe the first time in my life, I understood why people wanted to surround themselves with a community and how they could feed off the positive energy of others. It was thrilling and infectious; I never wanted it to stop.
I crowed with the rest of the village as the band launched into their final chorus about the girl with hair so black, eyes of blue. Caomhán twirled me around as everyone sang at the top of their lungs; then he dipped me low to the ground, causing me to shriek with laughter just as loudly as any of his other partners.
“Ah!” I cried as he yanked me back up into a fierce hug, lifting my feet from the floor.
His touch was full of innocent affection and mischief, the kind I hadn’t realized I’d missed for such a long time. Since well before Gran died. The last person to hug me like this was my father.
He released me only to clasp his hands to either side of my face, forcing me to look into his dark eyes. “Don’t be afraid to let go sometimes, cousin. Life’s no good if you can’t have a bit of fun.”
“I promise,” I told him honestly. “Thank you for the dance.”
“You’re welcome.” He glanced over my shoulder to where I gathered the blond girl from before was standing waiting for him eagerly.
“You’d better go before you burst or she does.”
Caomhán grinned, this time looking distinctly more predatory—or at least more animal. “True, and I’d better.”
“That’s very good for you, but what about me?” I looked around, and to my surprise, found more than one visitor to the island and not a few married men looking my way with some interest twinkling in their ale-soaked eyes. “That one seems like he’s game.”
I was feeling more than comfortable. I was feeling brave.
Caomhán followed my nod with a quick glance, then frowned back at me, looking confused. “Probably. But he’s not for you.”
“Maybe he could be for tonight.”
He blinked again, obviously confused. “But why would you when you’ve already got a—oh.” His head tipped with sudden understanding. “I see. You don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?” I grinned, still full of mischief.
“Don’t know…you’re talking to the wrong bloke,” he said, his saucy grin back in place. “I want to hear about your sex life like I want a hole in the head, Cassie. ’Specially since I’ve got to focus on mine.”
With a brief, impersonal smack on my lips, he released me and bounded off to the girl waiting for him as the music reverted back to the more traditional style.
I raised a hand to my mouth, still smiling as I pondered the fact that I had sustained so much contact with one person without trying to block any of it. Was it the touch of water or the fire outside? The effects of family, or perhaps I really was making the progress Caitlin had pointed out.
Then the crowd parted, and I wondered no more. My smile was wiped clean when I saw the thunderous expression on the face of one Jonathan Lynch.
