Page 14 of Rekindled Prophecy

“It’s so easy to fool good-hearted people. They always want to believe everyone else is as good as they are.” He winked.

Greylyn winced. She may not like what he said, but she also knew it was mostly true. She struggled for an appropriate, yet snarky response. Nothing smartass came to mind. Being around him muddled her brain every time. The best she could do was so lame, she regretted the words before they passed her lips. “Kael, whatever it is you are planning with the wedding, know that I will stop you.”

Before he could reply, Maureen entered the pub with a tray carrying three bowls of piping hot shepherd’s pie and fresh oven-baked bread. Kael jumped up from his bar stool and rushed to assist her with the tray. It had the intended effect. Maureen beamed and gave Greylyn a quick wink as if to say, “See, isn’t he a fine fellow?”

Greylyn fought the urge to roll her eyes at his pathetic play. “Smells delicious!” she reluctantly admitted. With a pointed look to Kael, she asked, “Is this an old family recipe? Do you hail directly from Ireland or did ancestry.com tell you that you were part Irish?”

Her flippant remark had an unusual effect. The smile stamped on his face did not match the serious, pained look or the nerve that twitched just under his left eye. Silence stretched out as if the entire house waited for his answer. “Actually, yes. Northern Ireland. But I came to the States so long ago, I’m afraid I’ve lost my accent.”

Like a gentleman, he pulled out a chair for Maureen, which elicited a broad smile. Again, Greylyn struggled to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

Damn, why can’t we just fight and get it over with? Playing nice was torture!

To avoid saying something she would regret, Greylyn picked up her spoon to diveinto her food, but Maureen abruptly stopped her with a quick, reprimanding look. “Not before we say the blessing,” she scolded Greylyn like a small child. “Kael, would you do the honors?”

Oh, now this will be funny. A demon saying the blessing over their dinner. Priceless!

Surprisingly, he did not miss a beat. He stretched out his hands to both women as he began a rather elegant prayer over their food. The touch of his hand sent a shockwave up her arm as if she had touched a fork stuck in an electrical outlet. Not enough to set her hair standing straight up on top of her head, but enough that she had to resist the urge to jerk her hand back.

Seeming not to notice her reaction, he gave thanks for Maureen’s hospitality and the opportunity to make new friends.

Shouldn’t he be spontaneously combusting or something?

Curiosity got the better of her as she peered out from underneath her eyelashes as he continued. No smoke or flames billowing around him. Not even a look of pain as words of praise and gratitude to the Almighty passed his lips. She had at least expected boils. Something to indicate a battle within his unholy self at the words.

Nothing. His head was bowed slightly, but he was peeking right back at her with a stare that unsettled her even more than hearing a demon give thanks to God.

In a low solemn voice, Kael continued the prayer.

“Lord and Master, we give you thanks for this bountiful meal and the gracious hospitality of our hostess. We give thanks for all your gifts to us, your lowly servants in this world. Although, we are not worthy, you provide and sustain us. You guide us in our troubles and conquer those that wish us harm or endeavor to bring us down. Your glory shines on your people as we walk this Earth to serve you and worship you. We give thanks for your sustenance as we go forth to do Thy will.”

Although, to the untrained ear, his prayer sounded elegantly simple and innocent, Greylyn heard the hidden meanings and innuendo in his choice of words.

Sly little devil!

He continued,“We give thanks for the people you purposefully put into our path to enrich our lives, and for the opportunities given to give and receive love regardless of our worthiness for love.” After what seemed like an eternity, he ended with a simple “Amen.”

He held onto her hand for a few moments after ending the prayer. Of course, Greylyn realized that she had not yanked her hand away either at the first possible moment. Their hostess certainly noticed as a sly smile crept up Maureen’s face.

I need a friggin’ drink.

Clumsily, Greylyn reached for her wine glass, nearly sloshing the wine over the worn wood table’s surface. Kael deftly grabbed the glass before a drop escaped the delicate crystal goblet. He handed it back to her with a one-sided grin.

Luckily for her, and the wine, he avoided actual physical contact. She was sure the glass would go flying if he so much as grazed her hand with his. She looked up, embarrassed, to find Maureen repressing a giggle with a hand over her mouth. Well, at least someone was having a good time tonight.

Greylyn picked at her food, unsure if she should trust Kael had not poisoned the shepherd’s pie. Maureen ate with gusto with no obvious ill effects and profusely complimented the chef in between bites. Kael’s gaze rarely strayed from Greylyn, which only served to make her more flustered.

She raised the fork to her lips, taking a tiny bite. For a split second, the slight tastes of rosemary and cinnamon hit her with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. Cinnamon? That seemed unusual, but it was quite delightful.

Wine… Wine was what she needed to calm her nerves. This time, she forced herself to concentrate on picking up her glass with a steady hand. Why did it take every ounce of her willpower to perform that one task?

As dinner progressed, Maureen and Kael carried most of the conversation. They talked about how he learned to cook from his dear grandmother.

“My Seanmhair took care of me while my parents worked all day. Even though, at the time, it was not considered manly to cook, she thought it was an important tool for anyone to learn. Without any sisters to carry on the family tradition, she taught me. Sadly, she passed away long ago.”

Yeah, no kidding.

“I tried passing along the skill to someone once, but I wasn’t so successful teaching.” His tone was lighthearted and smooth as he flashed her a dimpled grin with one eyebrow arched. “How about you? Are you a good cook, Greylyn?”

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