Page 12 of His Lucky Charm

I took a bite of eggs, buying time while I organized my thoughts. “I think there’s a kernel of truth behind the legend. Perhaps an organized group that has protected the town throughout its history, using the werewolf mythology as cover for their activities.”

“A secret society of wolf-costume-wearing vigilantes?” Her expression was carefully neutral. “That’s your rational explanation?”

Put that way, it did sound ridiculous. “I’m still working on the details.”

“Mmm.” She took a seat opposite me, cradling a mug of coffee. “And where does my brother fit into your theory?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” I admitted. “Rafferty is…” I trailed off, unsure how to articulate the contradictions that made up the man I was increasingly infatuated with.

“Complicated?” she supplied.

“To say the least.”

Siobhan studied me over the rim of her mug. “He likes you, you know. More than liked, actually. I haven’t seen him this way about someone in… well, ever.”

The admission warmed something in my chest. “The feeling is mutual,” I said quietly. “Which makes his secretiveness all the more frustrating.”

“He has his reasons.” She set down her mug. “Some secrets aren’t just personal, Eliot. They affect others. Families. Communities.”

“You sound like him.”

“We were raised with the same values.” She leaned forward. “Let me ask you something. If you discovered that the Guardian legend was true—exactly as it’s told, with actual werewolves protecting the town—what would you do with that information?”

It was a hypothetical, clearly. A test of character rather than a genuine question. Still, I considered it carefully.

“Academically speaking, it would be the discovery of a lifetime,” I began slowly. “The confirmation of supernatural existence would revolutionize multiple fields of study.”

Her expression cooled. “So you’d expose it. For fame and academic glory.”

“I didn’t say that.” I met her gaze steadily. “Academically, yes, it would be significant. Personally? I’d have to consider the consequences of such a revelation. The impact on the town, on the… individuals involved.”

“On Rafferty,” she said pointedly.

“Yes,” I acknowledged. “On Rafferty.”

She nodded, seemingly satisfied. “He’s coming back tomorrow night.”

I blinked at the sudden change of subject. “He said three days.”

“He’s motivated to return early.” Her smile turned sly. “Can’t imagine why.”

Despite myself, I felt a flush creeping up my neck again. “Good to know.”

Siobhan stood, collecting our empty plates. “You’re welcome to stay here until he returns. Or come to the pub—I’m covering for him. Either way…” She fixed me with a look that was suddenly intense. “Stay away from the hills tomorrow night. Festival preparations and all that. Not safe for outsiders.”

The warning in her tone was unmistakable. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“See that you do.” She rinsed the plates and placed them in the dishwasher. “Raff would never forgive himself if something happened to you.”

With that ominous statement hanging in the air, she gathered her purse and headed for the door. “Lock up if you leave. And Professor?” She paused, hand on the doorknob. “Sometimes the simplest explanation isn’t the rational one. Sometimes it’s the one staring you right in the face.”

Before I could respond, she was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a growing suspicion that I was missing something obvious about Rafferty O’Sullivan and his family’s connection to the Guardians of the Green.

Chapter 7

Despite Siobhan’s warning—or perhaps because of it—I found myself drawn to the hills the following evening. The full moon hung heavy and bright in the sky, illuminating the winding path that led from the edge of town into the forested hills beyond.

I’d spent the day in restless anticipation of Rafferty’s return, alternating between working on my research notes and pacing his apartment like a caged animal. By sunset, the waiting had become unbearable. I needed answers, and I was increasingly convinced they lay in the direction everyone kept warning me away from.