The Celtic Knot

Book 1: Arcana Love Series

by Shannon MacLeod

Genres: Vampires; Witches; Sports Romance

Synopsis

Sometimes, love lasts lifetimes.

Lily's whole life is planned out. She'll live, if not happily, at least ever after. Working as an insurance agent with her college sweetheart and longtime boyfriend, Lucas, she'll eventually marry him and together they'll take over the family agency. Then she and Lucas will start raising little insurance agents of their own. But something is missing. . .

At her best friend's urging, she decides to do one last wild thing before committing her life to a future of policy endorsements--she takes a part time job reading tarot cards at a local Renaissance Faire theme park. Lucas is completely unimpressed and disdainful of her fascination with the mystical, but has no doubt she'll settle down once they're married. Enter Ian Kelly, mural painter, actor and. . .witch. He and Lily have a chance meeting at the park, and the attraction is immediate. They have a history. . .a lot of history. Several lifetimes of it, in fact, and their business together is unfinished.

All three have secrets, one of them deadly. Add in heaping helpings of magic, mayhem, Cuban sandwiches, one large Irish family and one very demanding feline for a story of love so strong, it'll take more than one century to contain it.

CONTENT WARNING: Language, suggestive scenes.

93,000 Words

Release date: January 7, 2013

Publisher: Lyrical Press

Print pages: 339

Sample

 

1

 

She stole through the dense forest, peering into the dark undergrowth for some semblance of a path and finding none. The curtain of trees overhead allowed for little light to break through and more than once, she hurtled into low hanging branches and stifled the startled scream that would give her location away. She scanned the darkness, knowing she must keep moving.

Fright molded her breath into short, uneven gasps. Hearing leaves and twigs crackle under the feet of her unknown pursuer close behind her, she pushed herself harder. Up ahead she saw a tiny light and scrambled for it, keeping low and to the shadows. The light grew brighter and she realized it might be a way out of her forest dungeon. The piercing cry of a bird of prey ripped through the darkness and with adrenaline fueled wings on her feet, she ran toward it…

* * * *

Lily Evans jerked awake when the alarm went off. Early morning, the mid-October sunlight streamed into her bedroom. Covered in sweat and heart racing, it took her a moment to realize she was safe in her bed. She stretched, displacing the large black cat curled up asleep in the crook of her knees. “Same scary dream again, Bella,” she said, ticking the cat behind the ear.

She fumbled around in her nightstand and tugged out a satin drawstring bag. Closing her eyes, she reached into the bag and pulled a tarot card from her much loved Smith-Waite deck. “The Fool,” she read, placing the card back in the bag. “A new beginning. Sounds like a good start.”

She rolled out of bed and began the getting ready for work routine. Her phone rang at eight forty-five sharp just like Lily expected. Beth’s questions came rapid fire. “Are you ready? Are you close to ready? Are you even awake?”

“Of course I’m awake,” Lily teased, smiling at her best friend’s early morning exuberance. “I’m just sitting around waiting for you.”

“I’ll be there in a jiffy,” Beth promised. True to her word, Lily heard her friend charging up the stairs to the second floor apartment less than ten minutes later and ran to unlock the chain and deadbolt before the hammering on the door commenced. “I’m so excited we’ll finally be working together,” Beth squealed. She paused for a breath, took in Lily’s business attire and frowned. “You’re dressed like you’re going straight to work from the Castle.”

Lily sighed and nodded. “I told Lucas I should be in by eleven thirty at the latest.”

Beth’s mouth tightened at the mention of Lily’s self-appointed boyfriend and Lily gave her a pointed look, knowing what elicited the sour expression. “I know you don’t like him,” she said.

Beth’s response was swift. “Nope. I think I’d have to like him more to just not like him,” she said. “You’re selling yourself short. He doesn’t appreciate you at all, you know.”

“He appreciated me enough to give me a job at his dad’s agency,” Lily replied to the often voiced complaint.

“Only so he could keep you under his thumb,” Beth snapped. “I’m just glad he hasn’t asked you to marry him yet. Otherwise, the two of you would already be off raising a whole new generation of insurance agents. You will go to your grave old, wrinkled and insured to the hilt, but he will never make you happy.”

Beth continued to lecture as she helped herself to coffee. “You haven’t even had time to have a life yet. Don’t you have any wild, non Lucas-y oats that need sowing first before you throw your life away?” She cleared her throat. “I mean, before you settle down and marry Luc…” Her head fell forward in a dramatic swoon. “Shit, I can’t even say it,” she moaned.

“If anyone needs a man, it’s you,” Lily said, her voice quavering with suppressed laughter. “Of course, we’ll have to make you a little less intimidating first.” Beth’s wardrobe choice of the day featured faded jeans, high tops and a t-shirt carrying the warning Caution: Bites when Provoked stretched tight over her ample chest.

“I’m not looking. Maybe this weekend I’ll run into Mr. Right Now, though.” Beth waggled her eyebrows. “There’s all kinds of men underfoot at the Castle and most of them are clean and have their own teeth. Shall we go see, m’dear?”

Lily gasped in mock astonishment. “Their own teeth, you say? Such a glowing endorsement, this I must see for myself.”

* * * *

Castle Wilde, the year round Renaissance festival park, was a new attraction in Central Florida but growing in popularity and size by leaps and bounds. The park wasn’t open yet for the day, but plenty of people were around working and setting up for the events. Beth chattered nonstop as they walked from the parking lot to the main gate. “They do all kinds of shows here, acrobats and minstrel bands, jousting, fencing, human chess–you name it. Some of them are street performances, so you never know when you’re going to walk smack into the middle of something.”

Looking up from his magazine, the guard at the gate waved them on through with a smile and the girls set off down the main boulevard.

“How long has it been since you’ve been here?” Beth asked.

“Not since they first opened.” Lily sighed. “After Lucas told me how he felt about this kind of stuff, I didn’t ask him to bring me again. I’ve wanted to come back, though.”

Beth nodded in sympathy. “What did he say when you told him you were getting a part-time job here reading cards?”

Lily rolled her eyes. To say Lucas hadn’t exactly been supportive was like saying a tornado was slightly breezy. “He does not approve. He told me I needed to grow up. You know he thinks the whole tarot thing is nonsense anyway, and you…well…you didn’t quite make the short list of his favorite people.”

Throwing a hand to her forehead dramatically, Beth sobbed. “Nooo…oh, wait. Don’t care,” she sang. They passed several large brightly colored tents, one of which had a wooden gypsy vardo parked next to it. “That’s our tent,” Beth said proudly. “They pull the sides up when it’s open. Wanna see?”

Inside, the tent was attractively decorated with colorful scarves and beads hanging from the ceiling, small round tables with dark fringed tablecloths and wooden chairs scattered throughout. Lily scanned the tent’s interior. “Wow,” she said. “I really haven’t read for that many people before, and…”

“Quit worrying–you’ll be great,” Beth assured her. “C’mon.”

Taking her by the hand, her friend led her past empty booths and carts that would be full of medieval wares later in the day. Further up the street, a group of men were busy painting a mural on one of the high cement barriers closer to the office. A lone man stood on a low scaffold, adding lush red roses and trailing vines to a painted trellis with quick, sure brushstrokes. Lily noticed him right away. He was younger than most of the other painters and obviously engrossed in his work.

“Major eye candy at one o’clock,” murmured Beth. Lily had to agree with her assessment. The lean, sun-bronzed man on the scaffold wore a Bucs ball cap, his long hair pulled back and banded into a tight ponytail. Muscular shoulders and arms glistened with the early morning humidity and the white ribbed tank top clung to the sculpted muscles of his chest and abdomen. His white painter’s pants rode low on narrow hips and bore occasional splashes of bright paint. Lily glanced back over her shoulder when they walked by and with a jolt realized the attractive man in the cap had stopped painting to watch them. He touched his fingers to the brim of the cap, tilted his head and gave her a dazzling grin. Lily offered him a shy smile before lowering her lashes and turning away, her cheeks flaming at having been caught looking.

Beth snickered under her breath. “You’re so busted,” she said.

“Good thing he can’t see my pulse too,” Lily mumbled, placing her hand on her chest in a futile attempt to slow down her wildly beating heart.

The kind-eyed man behind the desk smiled when they entered the office. “Good morning, Beth, it’s good to see you. This must be the friend you told us about. I’m Dan Wilde–welcome to my castle.”

Instantly charmed by his proper English accent, Lily stuck out her hand in greeting. “I’m Lily Evans, pleased to meet you.”

Dan stood and took her hand, giving it a firm but gentle shake. A bearded bear of a man, he towered over both girls. “That’s a lovely accent you have there. Is it real?” When Lily blinked in confusion, he laughed heartily. “Of course it is. Please forgive me. I’m used to dealing with actors all day.” He walked around the desk and leaned against it while he spoke. “So, Lily, read the cards, do you? Beth tells me you’re excellent at it. How soon can you start?”

Lily smiled at the easy job interview. “Would this weekend be soon enough? I could come in Friday after my regular job. I get off at four.”

“Brilliant,” he said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

“Dan and his wife Meghan are our monarchs so whenever you see them in costume, you’re supposed to curtsey,” Beth said. “There are other lords and ladies and sometimes the customers get dressed up too, then you don’t know who’s who at all. You’ll get used to it.”

Dan promised to have her paperwork ready when she got there on Friday. “Meg’s out of the office right now and I have no idea where she puts anything,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “I suspect she does it on purpose.” He ran a large hand through his mop of unruly brown hair. “Wait right there.” He loped off to an adjacent room, and upon returning, handed Lily a spiral bound employee handbook. “There will be a test,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching with humor.

Lily bobbed a quick curtsey and replied, “I’ll commit each and every word to memory, your majesty.”

Beth laughed. “See, I told you. She’ll be perfect!”

* * * *

The two women hadn’t been gone more than five minutes before the office front door opened again. The painter with the cap shuddered when the cold air conditioning met the sweat on his skin. “Jaysus, it’s like a freezer in here,” he groused good naturedly.

Dan looked up from his purchase orders and grinned at his visitor who was busily rooting around in the office refrigerator. “How’s the painting going?” he asked.

Ian Kelly, younger brother of his beloved Meg and Dan’s best friend since boyhood, plopped down on the leather sofa with his purloined soda. “It should be finished by this afternoon,” he said, looking around warily before snapping the tab. “Is my sister here?”

“No,” said Dan, “she’s out running errands.”

Ian relaxed and leaned back, rubbing the cold can on the sides of his face. “Good. Who was the blonde that was just in here?”

“Mmm?” Ignoring the question, Dan stacked the papers neatly to slip back into Meg’s inbox. “Hey, if you’re going to be done this afternoon, want to try to get in nine holes before dark?”

Ian rolled his eyes heavenward and heaved a dramatic sigh. “We both know,” he said, his soft brogue becoming even more pronounced, “the only reason you insist on dragging my incompetent arse onto the golf course is so you can feel better about that nasty slice you’ve developed.” He paused for a drink of soda. “As I have told you on numerous occasions–you may recall–I am Irish. The Scots excel at the wretched sport of golf while the Irish excel at drinking fine whisky and chasing after beautiful women, which brings us back to the original question. I know the redhead. She works in the gypsy tent. Who is the pretty blonde?”

Dan chuckled to himself. His brother-in-law had something of a reputation with the fairer sex and although at times exaggerated, it was for the most part well deserved. “The red-haired one is Beth Vargo.”

“The blonde, Dan. Focus, please.”

“Her name is Lily Evans. We just hired her on as a weekend card reader for the gypsy tent.” He narrowed his eyes. “Break this one’s heart and I’ll start hiring men only.”

“Me? You wound me, Dan.” Ian shook his head in feigned affront. He went silent for a moment but obviously decided he couldn’t resist the temptation. “So…is she married?”

“I didn’t ask,” Dan said, smothering a grin.

“Hmmph…” Ian glanced up at the clock and threw his empty can in the recycle bin by the door. “I gotta get back. Reef should be finishing up his section by now and I’ll be needing to go over it before we move to the next.”

“Wonderful,” said Dan. “You’re still coming over for dinner tonight?”

“I planned on it. What’s on the menu, by the way? If you’re up for grilling, I’ll pick up some steaks.”

Dan sighed in relief. “Meg mentioned making some sort of casserole, but I’d much rather have a nice thick t-bone.”

Ian hooted with laughter. Meg was for the most part an excellent cook, but her casseroles were the stuff of nightmares. “Steak it is, then. I’ll see you around six thirty and after dinner, I’ll kick your arse in darts for you.”

“Not a chance in hell, Kelly.” Dan said, snorting with good natured derision.

 

 

2

 

After work, Lily headed straight for the mall. Beth was already there, engrossed in a romance novel and sipping one of two sodas on the table. Lily grabbed the other and took a pull on the plastic straw, plopping down in the booth across from her friend. “God, it’s good to be out of there.” She sighed. “I think Lucas is still mad. He didn’t even speak to me today.”

“Help me out with the part where that makes for a bad day,” Beth said, rolling her eyes. She tucked her napkin inside the paperback and stowed in away her backpack. “Okay, topic switch. Have you picked out a name yet?”

“Name for what?” Lily asked.

“A lot of the people at the park use stage names,” Beth explained. “Get in touch with your inner witch and pick out a good name to go with your new persona.”

Lily shushed her, glancing around nervously at the mere mention of the W word. “Keep your voice down before you get us both burned at the stake,” she warned, only half joking.

Beth smiled and adjusted the topic. “I’ve got some costumes for you,” she said, “and a gypsy wig to cover up all your gadjo hair.”

After grabbing some chicken-fried rice, they drove back to Lily’s apartment. “I figured if I couldn’t breathe in them, they’d fit you,” Beth joked. Lily had always been on the slender side but at five-six matched Beth in height if not in weight.

The gathered costume skirts were elegant and Lily chose two for the weekend, one in deep burgundy and the other one a smoky indigo. “This outfit rocks,” she said, giving the gauzy skirt an experimental twirl. The off-the-shoulder peasant blouse was a little more daring than she was accustomed to, and when she laced up the matching vest that caught her just under the breasts, pushing them up…wow. Just. Wow.

“Those vests are like the old song Rawhide–head ’em up and move ’em out,” Beth said between giggles.

Lily practiced her curtsey, getting more and more excited about Friday night. “I’m glad the skirts are adjustable, I’m a little…puffy right now,” she said, admiring her reflection. “The new pills are making my periods more regular, though.”

“I’m telling you–it’s stress. I blame Lucas, the root of all evil. No,” Beth said when Lily opened her mouth to protest, “I promise I’m not going to say another disparaging word about him…tonight.” She smiled. “Here’s the coup de grace. Try this on.”

Whipping it out of the plastic bag with a magician’s flourish, Beth handed Lily the large mound of curls. Lily dutifully piled her hair under the heavy wig and slipped it on. Both women gasped aloud at the immediate and profound change. Before she’d had a bright crown of straight blond hair. Now a black mass of wild, untamed tresses curled beguilingly around her shoulders and fell nearly to her waist in the back.

“Wow. All you need is some dark red lipstick and you are set,” Beth said, giving her a nod of approval. “You still need a name, though. You look like something out of an old gothic movie with that hair.” She looked thoughtful. “Pale white skin, hair black as a raven’s wing.”

“Perfecto,” said Lily, snapping her fingers. “Raven.”

* * * *

The brilliant light was just ahead and when she drew closer, she realized it wasn’t a light at all, but a clearing. From the edge of the trees, a beautiful verdant meadow covered in sweet smelling wildflowers lay before her, tall grass swaying in the gentle breeze.

And she was not alone.

A tall and muscular man stood in the field, his back to her., His long auburn curls tossed about him in the light breeze. On his right hand he wore a single leather gauntlet, the jesses dangling loose from his wrist. Looking upward into the cloudless sky, he raised his arm and a majestic hawk landed upon it. He stroked the bird with a gentle touch then flung his arm up, allowing it to fly free. The raptor circled the field twice, landed again and again was released. Lily called to the falconer, but he either did not or could not hear her. Creeping out of the shadows of the trees, she moved into the sunlight, calling to him. As she inched closer, he turned slightly, as if he had heard something behind him.The bird’s distant cries became louder, more strident, more…rhythmic?

* * * *

“Damn clock!” Lily howled in frustration at having been awakened at such a crucial moment and smacked the top of the digital alarm to make the clamorous racket stop. With a heavy sigh, she reached into the satin bag and pulled a card for the day. Ace of Cups, beginnings of…love? She snatched up the phone and called Beth. “Do you remember my reoccurring dream?”

“The scary one?” Beth asked.

“That’s it. I had it again last night, but something’s changed. I saw…someone.”

For once Beth listened without comment while Lily described her dream. “You didn’t see his face?” she asked.

“Nope. What I did see was pretty nice, though,” Lily added remembering the rear view of the tight fitting pants the man had been wearing.

“Well, I am shocked. You’re supposed to be analyzing your dream and all you’re doing is looking at the guy’s ass,” Beth scolded. “Do you think this is somebody you’re supposed to meet? And even more important, was it a nice ass?”

“I don’t know what I’m thinking and yes, it was nice,” she answered truthfully. She stretched again as the cat hopped up on the bed and presented her tummy for a rub. “Bella doesn’t like Lucas at all.”

“Failing the cat test is a deal breaker, you know. It’s in the Witches Handbook. Chapter four, section eight, paragraph two-a…” She paused then continued in a more sober tone. “What do you want to bet if you do marry him he makes you get rid of her?”

“He wouldn’t dare. He knows how much I love my Bella girl,” she cooed, scratching the happy cat under the chin.

“I doubt he’ll even care. You’re headed for a Me or the Cat showdown and cats always trump. Anyway, there’s no way in hell he’ll let her sleep with the two of you,” Beth assured her. “Pretty soon you’ll be taking your ring off.”

With the heat burning in her cheeks, Lily glanced down at the small silver abstinence ring on her right hand. At the tender age of thirteen, she and Beth had taken the pledge at her parent’s church to wait to have sex until they were truly in love. The vow used to say marriage, but even the church was getting realistic about raging teenage hormones and decided getting them to wait at all was a step in the right direction. Lucas got his after he met Lily three years later and still wore it. Lily took her vow seriously, but she often wondered if Lucas did the same.

* * * *

On Friday, the Bell Insurance Agency closed at four PM, giving Lily just enough time to run home and change into her costume before Beth arrived to drive them to the Castle. When they pulled into the employee’s parking lot in Beth’s aging sedan, Lily gasped at the already manic activity. “Just look at all the people dressed up. Wow–they’ve got horses here now? Are those turkey legs? Look at all this stuff, this is amazing!”

“Come on.” Beth laughed, bustling her way through the growing crowd and street vendors, dragging Lily, gaping, behind her.

At the gypsy tent, Beth suggested Lily watch her read for a couple of patrons, mini three-card readings about ten minutes long each. She became more and more confident as she watched, so when Beth stood up and offered Lily her chair, she didn’t hesitate.

About an hour later, Lily had just finished a reading when Lucas strolled in. A handsome man in his mid-twenties, his short blond hair was stylishly spiked and still smelled faintly of its recent frosting. Clad in Dockers, a polo shirt, and an unmistakable look of disapproval, he glanced around the tent. His gaze landed on Beth and his upper lip curled in distaste. Eyes of ice blue flickered over Lily then peered past her, still searching. Amused, Lily watched him for a moment before she spoke.

“Came to check out the park?” she asked sweetly.

Lucas stared at her, then up and down at her outfit and hair. His laughter was harsh. “You gotta be kidding me. Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look?”

Lily felt her happy balloon suddenly deflate. Struggling to keep her face impassive, she picked an imaginary piece of lint from her skirt. “No, but I’m sure you’ll enlighten me,” she said.

At her sudden change of tone, he reconsidered his hasty words. “It’s just…I don’t know…these people around here, all dressed up in these stupid outfits. It’s like kid stuff, you know?”

Lily lifted her chin a little in defiance. “Just because you don’t like it doesn’t make it either stupid or ridiculous. You paint your face when you watch college football on TV, so I don’t think you’re one to judge.” She smoothed the front of her skirt. “I love dressing up like this. It’s like being a part of history.”

Lucas waved a hand. “Whatever. I’m not going to hang out here in Fantasyland, though,” he said with a snort. “Later.” Without another word, he spun on his heel and stalked out of the tent.

Lily shuddered and glanced at Beth, who was busy with an obviously enamored young couple, entwined and piled onto one small chair. The other reader, jovial thirty-something Esmeralda, sat at another table swinging her foot while she waited for another guest to come in.

The air in the tent grew suddenly stuffy and constrictive. Lily caught Beth’s eye, pointing to the tent entrance and her friend nodded, giving her a warm, reassuring smile. Once outside, Lily gulped in several steadying breaths of the cool evening breeze. After a few moments of watching the guests come and go, she turned to go back to her table but stopped when she caught a glimpse of something white and fluffy moving out of the corner of her eye. Every nerve in her body tingled as deja vu swept over her.

He was standing right there, on the other side of the street.

She had a vague sense of her mouth hanging open. It’s him, the guy from my dream, it has to be, she thought with a shiver of…of what? Anticipation? You’re getting all worked up over nothing, she chided herself, but still struggling to draw a decent breath, she just couldn’t shake the feeling something…momentous…was about to happen.

Topping six feet by several inches, he stood with his back to her, his lion’s mane of auburn curls ruffling in the light breeze. His long muscular legs were encased in black form-hugging pants with nary a wrinkle in sight just like the Highwayman poem, even where they disappeared into his thigh high leather boots. The fluffy attention getter was the feather plume adorning his cavalier hat, bobbing animatedly as he talked with a young man of similar height and garb, whose blond locks reached below his collar. When the other man raised his hand in parting, Lily tried to slip back inside the tent, but couldn’t will her feet or legs to move. He’s going to see me standing here staring at him like a lunatic, she thought frantically, but remained rooted to the spot, frozen and transfixed. Her heart raced with both fear and excitement. She glared down at her shoes as if trying to scare her feet into moving, but that didn’t work either.

To her horror, those buttery soft black boots came to a stop directly in front of her, and she slowly raised her eyes to gaze at the man standing before her. Those tight pants laced up the sides and were paired with a sleeveless black leather doublet and white poet’s shirt, open at the collar. Lily raised her gaze further to look into his face, and was mesmerized by what she saw. He was devastatingly handsome, no doubt about it–chiseled jaw, high cheekbones and sinful, sensual lips. When he smiled at her, his even white teeth flashed against sun kissed skin. But his eyes…they were an impossibly dark shade of emerald green and as they stood there looking at each other she fell deeper and deeper into them.

He removed his hat and reaching for her hand bowed low over it, brushing his lips over her fingertips. She gasped at the jolt of electricity that blazed the length of her body at the contact. He released her hand with a gentle squeeze and when he turned to go, she spied the mystic Celtic touchstone suspended on a leather thong around his neck. When she saw the painted image on the ceramic medallion, her breath froze in her chest.

It was a hawk.

* * * *

“Are you sure you’re well enough to ride?” Meghan fretted. “You’re pale as a ghost.” She turned to Dan for confirmation, who gave a noncommittal shrug as he struggled into his Henry VIII doublet.

Ian nodded slowly. “I’m fine, Megs.” He had been on his way up to the office, when Renaud stopped him to ask about something, but what, he couldn’t remember. He scratched his head in consternation. All he remembered was turning around and seeing the new girl standing outside the tent. She drew him like a lodestone and he’d crossed the street to get a closer look. Even with the black wig, h. . .