Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Orla

A drink was one hundred percent called for after meeting a broonie in real life for the first time. Brice turned out to be quite shy, seemingly very sweet, and well-besotted with Calvin. The two frolicked together like long-lost best friends, and the result was decidedly endearing. Not that I wanted a broonie, because I wasn't sure I could really deal with another magickal being popping into my life regularly, but Lia assured me he stayed in her kitchen and was generally quite helpful when he wasn't up to mischief.

The Tipsy Thistle was the main pub in town, and really, from what I could gather, the hub for which all gossip, news, and important events was disseminated. They served a good meal, prices were affordable, and the owner, Graham, was not hard to look at .

Not hard at all.

He'd spotted us upon our arrival, nodding to a table by the fire, and we'd settled in, Sophie, Agnes, and Shona joining us shortly after our arrival. The pub was half-filled, some men tucked at the bar to watch a match turned low on the telly, and Celtic music lilted lightly in the background. The fire took away most of the chill, as the fog had descended on our walk to the pub, and I was grateful for its warmth. A quick bite, a drink, and I'd be home soon enough to feed Goldie, who seemed ever patient with her varying dinner times.

If a fish could be considered patient, that is.

"Well, now, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Graham stopped at our table, crossing muscular, tattooed arms over his chest, his grin widening as his eyes landed on me. I hadn't much chatted with him in the past, having only come in for a meal with my crew, and now I was surprised at the heat that stirred inside me as he focused his attention in my direction. Damn it, but the man was seriously good-looking. "An entire table full of the prettiest ladies this side of Loch Mirren. Surely my luck is changing, and the gods have decided to smile upon me once again."

"Och, wheesht, Graham. It's a ladies' night, can't you see?" Agnes, a slim woman with a springy crop of curls and a mile-wide smile, glared at him.

"I see well enough, don't I, darling? And what kind of man would I be if I didn't express my appreciation for the beauty bestowed upon me on this dreich night?"

"I know it's his thing and all, but it's very effective." Sophie fanned a hand in front of her face. "Go on, Graham. Flattery will get you everywhere. "

"And likely a fist planted in my face by Lachlan." Graham chuckled.

"Well-deserved at that," Agnes said.

"Och, darling, I can't still be in the bad books with you now, can I?" Graham focused his attention on Agnes, and I noticed something shift in his expression. Longing flashed behind his eyes before it was quickly shuttered, and I wondered what the story was there. Was Agnes out of her mind? Surely Graham would be fun to date, no?

"That you are, and you well know it." Agnes sniffed and studied the menu, though even I knew the contents of the menu having been here a few times already. Agnes ran a bookstore in town, and I suspected she could recite the menu by memory.

"What did you do now?" Sophie asked Graham.

"He had two American lasses through here the other night. Helped them both home, didn't he then?" Agnes arched an eyebrow at him.

"They weren't sure how to get there, what with the foggy night and all," Graham said.

"Loren Brae's not so small that Google maps doesn't work here."

"It's important to be hospitable," Graham insisted.

"Two of them?" Shona, a quiet woman with long blonde hair and luminous blue eyes, shook her head. "Fair play to you, lad."

"You're on his side then?" Agnes leaned over to Shona.

"I am on no sides here. Though I am failing to see the issue that Graham, a seemingly unattached man, went home with a woman. "

"Women," Sophie corrected, sweetly, and Agnes bristled.

"Of course he can do what he wants. If he wants to be a loose man."

"I thought you were a progressive woman, Agnes," Lia said. "Are you slut-shaming Graham?"

"Och, it's not slut-shaming." Agnes slapped her menu down. "I'm just suggesting, as an owner of a business in town, that he act with some decorum."

"Surely helping my clientele to not get lost in the dark is a gentlemanly service?" Graham beamed at Agnes, and I stifled a laugh. Whatever was going on here, it was amusing to watch.

"Oh, it is. It is," Agnes conceded with a sigh. Looking around the room, her eyes lighted on two handsome young men, Americans by the flags on their backpacks, and she smiled. "It's foggy tonight again. Will you be helping those lads home as well?"

"If they need it," Graham said, not missing a beat.

"Or maybe I should." Agnes tapped a finger against her lips, a considering look on her face.

"I'm sure I can direct them." Amusement had left Graham's face. Agnes stood, easing past me, and crossed the room to stop at the lads' table, while Graham fumed at ours.

"Do you drink wine, Orla?" Sophie asked.

"I do." Every once in a while. I wasn't a big drinker, in general, as I didn't typically like feeling out of control.

"Two bottles of Cabernet for the table, please, Graham."

"Right away." Graham left, his face a mask, and my eyebrows rose as Agnes threw her head back and laughed, dropping a casual hand on the shoulder of one of the lads.

"Is it just me or could you cut the tension with a knife between those two?" I asked, wincing as soon as the words were out. Here I was, not wanting to talk about Finlay paying me for a date, and now I was sticking my nose in someone else's business. This was not like me, as I'd learned to not ask a lot of questions growing up.

Don't ask questions you won't like the answers to.

I'd learned that little lesson very quickly.

Not that it necessarily applied here, as I had no interest in Graham or stepping on any toes in that direction. But it felt intrusive for me to ask about a relationship between two people I didn't know very well.

"With my sword," Sophie assured me. Nudging Shona, she nodded toward me. "Orla met Brice today. What do you think she'll think of Gnorman?"

"Gnorman?" I asked and Shona's sunny face lit up.

"He's my garden gnome." Shona pitched her voice lower, leaning in. "In fact, I have two of them. As in real-life gnomes. It comes with being a garden witch."

Heat flushed through me, and I sat back, my world recalibrating around the knowledge that not only did magickal beings apparently frolic left and right all through Loren Brae, but that for the first time maybe I wasn't alone in my oddity.

It's not easy being an orphan.

It's even harder being one who sees ghosts.

Agnes returned to the table, a smug expression on her face, and I just looked at these women, so varied in their appearances. Shona wore a simple blue jumper and had dirt under her nails, Sophie was in a UCLA sweatshirt, Willow was in her sparkles, Lia was in a leather jacket, and Agnes had on a pretty red blouse. And there was me. In canvas pants and a cream, ancient woolen jumper that kept me warm against the damp. A mismatched group we were, if I'd ever seen one, yet somehow those very differences soothed me. It was as though anything would go here, and they'd still accept you into their fold. I certainly hoped so, as a quiet yearning for acceptance filled me.

"Lovely lads. Traveling through," Agnes said as she dropped into her seat. Graham returned with two bottles, opening both with a flourish, studiously ignoring Agnes as he poured.

"Food tonight, ladies?"

We put our orders in—mac and cheese with a side salad and chips for me—and settled back with our wine.

"So, Orla sees ghosts. I think that's going to be the power that manifests for her. She's a house witch," Sophie said without preamble, and I jerked, spilling wine on my jumper.

"Damn it," I said, switching out the wine glass for water and dabbing at the jumper with a damp napkin. It wasn't the jumper I was much fussed about, it was the fact that she'd just exposed me, casually, to an entire group of women that I didn't know that well. One being my client, as well.

"Welcome to the Order," Shona said. "It's an adjustment, isn't it? Being part of something bigger?"

"I…" I wasn't sure how to answer that. I still felt like the kid standing outside the playground, watching the ot her kids play together. "I honestly don't know what to think."

"Neither did I." Lia held up her wine in commiseration. "Not until I found my spell book and saw my grandmother's name in it. Then the connection came through for me and I felt I was where I belonged. Hey, I wonder if your family will be in there too. I can look. What was your grandmother's surname?"

I froze, unsure how to respond, not wanting to spill my dirty past all over these lovely smiling women. What was I supposed to say? That I didn't know my own grandparents' names? How my mother ditched me at an early age before succumbing to her drug addiction and her half-sister barely raised me? There were no family albums to pore over, fun stories of the past, or memories of those who came before me.

"I don't have family." It came out fast, the words whipping across the table, and I saw the expression I hated the most on people's faces. Sympathy. It fell like a wave, crashing across the women, and my stomach churned. Now comes the pity party . This was my least favorite part, next to the inevitable questions, and my shoulders hunched.

"That's just fine then, isn't it? You've got one now." Agnes squeezed my arm, nodding to the women around the table.

"Yup, that's part of it," Lia agreed. "Annoying as these bitches can be at times. They're my bitches."

"Has ladies' night taken a dominatrix-y turn?" Graham appeared with a basket of bread. "If so, I fully support this direction you all are taking. "

"If we do, men won't be invited to watch," Sophie promised him.

"That's certainly a loss." Graham disappeared and the knot of tension inside me loosened slightly.

"I lost my mom when I was young," Willow said, reaching for a piece of bread. "I think my favorite thing about the Order is not only do you get to be magickal, but you also get to be magickal along with other cool women. Plus, I mean, how freaking cool is it to know there's so much, like, weird and amazing things that exist out there? It's kind of blown my head off to know all these things, like, just exist , you know?"

"Listen, I thought I was well on the way to losing my marbles when gnomes started talking to me," Shona assured me.

"Or eyes peered at me from the dark corner of my kitchen pantry," Lia chimed in.

"Or cats started projecting images into my head." Willow tapped a finger on her forehead.

"What is your power?" I asked Willow, realizing I didn't know what she could do.

"I can see the future," Willow said, and my mouth dropped open.

"No way," I breathed.

"Yup, though I can't really control it. It's not on demand, but it more comes to me in flashes."

"I have voice command, which helps with keeping the Kelpies back." Sophie tapped a finger at her chest. "Shona is a garden witch, so she grows magickal herbs. Lia is a kitchen witch, so she has food-based spells. Willow sees the future, and you, my friend, apparently sense ghosts. Which in my opinion, makes you a house witch."

"Ghosts aren't just tied to houses," I pointed out, taking a healthy gulp of my wine after speaking. It rattled me to talk about these things so openly.

"Yeah, but you build houses. And you sense ghosts. And I think you mentioned you can help them…move on?" Willow tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and I flushed, unused to such undivided attention upon me. No, that wasn't it. I was used to my crew focusing on my instructions and guidance. This was…kind and…personal. It warmed my curious and lonely soul.

"I don't know what I do. Not sure if there's a name for it or not. Some I help move on. One has stayed with me for…" I snapped my mouth shut, glancing at the almost finished glass of wine. I never spoke about the Green Lady.

"Ohhhhh, you've got a ghost familiar already? That's so cool," Lia said.

"Want to tell us about it?" Agnes asked, and the table quieted, waiting.

Did I? I was so used to hiding her that my instinct was to shut this conversation down. But she'd told me to trust the Order, hadn't she? So far, she'd been the one constant in my life that had protected me.

"I don't know what to say," I admitted, folding and refolding the napkin in my lap. "She just showed up one day. I was in the middle of getting jumped and I?—"

"Excuse me, what? Getting jumped? Orla, that's awful ," Sophie said, her eyes huge. And to her it likely was. Life played out a little differently when you had to fend for yourself though.

"Right, anyway, so, she just appeared. Scared the crap out of him and me to be honest. But she stayed with me after that."

"What does she look like? Does she have a name?" Agnes asked, her bright eyes curious.

"She's never given me a name. I've asked, repeatedly. She wears a green dress and…" I paused. How was I supposed to explain she didn't have human feet?

"The Green Lady!" Agnes exclaimed and my mouth dropped open.

"You know her?"

"Aye, or of her. She's quite famous around Scotland, though some will say there's more than one of them. Cloven hooves, right?"

"Talking about me, darling?" Graham stopped with a tray of food and winked at Agnes.

"Only if those are horns I see peeking out of your thinning hair."

Graham audibly gasped, his eyes widening.

"You didn't just say that."

"Aye, I did."

"Damn it, Agnes, are you really that mad? It's not like you to be downright mean."

"Och, I'm just tetchy today, Graham. Ignore me. I promise your hair isn't thinning." Agnes waved her words away.

"There she is. I was hoping you'd be back." Before Agnes could stop him, he dropped a kiss on her cheek, and she swatted him away. Not before she disguised a grin, though .

"So, a half-woman, half…goat? Haunts you?" Sophie brought us back on topic.

"Yes, but she's very nice. She's not great with details, and she doesn't like a lot of direct questions, but she, I don't know, guides me? Helps me?" I dug into my mac and cheese, my stomach grumbling after an active day of work.

"The Green Lady, also known as a glaistig, has a ton of different stories about her. It's not unlikely that there are many ‘Green Ladies' so to speak." Agnes made air quotes with her fingers. "Some stories speak of her being threatening and leading travelers astray. Some speak of her as the Goddess of the Hunt and people would make offerings to her. Others say she is benevolent and looks after weary travelers. A few stories suggest she is even fae."

"Fae?" I'd never considered that. She'd always struck me as exactly what she was—a ghost.

"Some, aye. That she was once mortal and cursed, hence the goat's legs. It wouldn't be uncommon to see such myths associated with the Fae. They have many curses and trickery in their stories."

"She won't tell me. I've asked."

"So you can communicate with her?"

"I can. She does speak to me. But she's very picky on what she wants to talk about. It's not…I don't know." I shrugged. It wasn't like we hung out for hours on end. She'd pop through and say something to guide me and then disappear.

"It wouldn't be unusual if she positioned herself as a protector of sorts in your life, which is what it sounds like, right?" Agnes stabbed a piece of lettuce with her fork. "She often helps lost travelers find their way."

And if that didn't describe me to a T.

A lost traveler in life, that is. But I was finally finding my way, wasn't I? For the first time ever, things were falling into place for me, and my hard work was paying off. I was beginning to be cautiously optimistic that I'd actually clawed my way out of an uncertain past and was finally building a foundation for myself—a future that I could rely upon. And maybe some new friends to help make life less … lonely.