“That someone would use the one human being who meant the world to him,” Angela said softly.
The banshee didn’t get a chance to answer. There was a bit of commotion from the front of the house, a knock and then voices. Jackson knew, of course, that their newer recruits, Zachary Erickson and Skye McMahon, had arrived.
“Wait, please, don’t go anywhere!” Angela begged her.
“I’ll not, nor will I give you away; through the years I have witnessed what happens when . . . well, never you mind now. I’ll not give you away!” the banshee assured them.
Jackson smiled at her. “Ah. You’ve seen when others see us as crazy. Two more are coming in. They will see you and be delighted and grateful to make your acquaintance.”
He hurried back to the parlor where it seemed introductions between the “Crows” and Detective Murphy and Sean Donegal had already taken place. They were quicky able to bring Zach and Skye to the kitchen.
He was glad to see the pair; they had already performed their investigations remarkably—on every level. He and Angelahad now been together with the Krewe of Hunters for over fifteen years and to this day, the two of them, with Adam Harrison, watched other officers and agents in the field for those they believed belonged working with one of their units. Skye McMahon had an incredibly different ability, that of closing her eyes and seeing the past. The one problem was that she couldn’t see what part of the past she witnessed. Zach Erickson, on the other hand, could hold or touch an object and tell you a great deal about the last person who touched or held it. He was a strapping young fellow with dark hair and deep blue eyes. Skye was about five-five and slender, a lovely young woman with reddish hair and green eyes.
Green . . .
Or emerald, like the Emerald Isle.
Of course, Zach and Skye saw the banshee immediately; and both greeted her with grave nods, quickly giving her their thanks.
That made the banshee smile. “I am Deidre,” the banshee told them. “Deidre McAdams, and I was about in my mortal state about four hundred years ago. And it is, of course, rather sad that we’re feared, seen as ‘death ghosts,’ when we remain to help others cross over and give solace, help those who remain get through their grief. But that’s been said before, and I was telling your friends,” Deidre said to Zach and Skye, “I wasn’t here when the lass was taken, but I will be here with you every step of the way as you seek to find the lass. Perhaps at some point I might help.”
“Thank you!” Jackson said, and he introduced their group by their full names but used none of their work titles. Deidre understood who they were. And she was happy to help, if only she could.
Zach looked at Jackson and asked, “There was word left that aleprechauntook her?” he asked dryly.
“Such was the message,” Angela told him. “And whoever took her was wearing gloves, but we’re hoping—”
“Wait,” Zach told them, looking over at Skye. “Do you think . . .?”
“Never matters what I think,” Skye assured him. “I always need to try! And so . . .”
“Please,” Jackson said.
And Skye nodded and closed her eyes.
She was very still; the room itself suddenly seemed to be still. Short moments that seemed much longer than what they were passed.
Then Skye opened her eyes and she appeared to be stunned.
“They said a leprechaun took her?” she demanded.
“That’s right,” Jackson told her.
“And it’s true—she was kidnapped by a leprechaun!” Skye told them.
*
Angela
A leprechaun.
A kidnapping by a leprechaun as St. Paddy’s sat upon the horizon?
In the years since she and Jackson had been working together since Adam Harrison had founded the Krewe, they had seen so many things. Of course to the rational mind, a banshee shouldn’t exist. Except that a banshee was a ghost, a mourner who remained to help others, just as Deidre had said. But once, Deidre had been mortal. But through all their years, they had never discovered thatcreaturesof myths and legends existed.
Yes, they had dealt with would-be vampires, werewolves, and Rougarous.
But all had proven to be very human.
