Chapter One

"But, Father, why can't I use my powers? He teases me all the time."

Shamus looked down at his only child and smiled. Her sea green eyes were intense with emotion, the ebony hair flying around her head as the soft wind caught it.

"Because, my dear daughter, you haven't perfected them yet. You have much to learn and witchcraft is not to be taken lightly. When the time comes you will know when it is right to call on those abilities given to you by your ancestors. Until then you must learn to handle things in a more traditional way."

"I'd like to pull his hair out by the roots, that's what I'd like to do."

"My, my, what has Connor done that has you in such a state?"

She paced along the rock covered beach, her body, even at the tender age of 13, starting to show signs of firm breasts and a length of long leg. She would be as beautiful as her mother had been. His beloved Katrina had died giving his precious daughter life and a day didn't go by that he didn't miss her desperately. Raising a free spirit like Cassie had been a challenge from the beginning, especially for a man who never had any brothers or sisters. He remembered the time that followed Katrina's death as a blur, his grief overwhelming as he cared for his new daughter. He would have been totally lost if it hadn't been for his wife's younger sister. Sarah had taken pity on the heartsick man and his infant daughter, and selling her own cottage, had moved in with them. Acting as nanny and housekeeper, she had found a way to make them a family and he could never repay her for that.

Cassie stamped her feet, causing the sand to fly and forcing him into the present in a hurry. Putting hands on her hips, those brilliant eyes flashing, she spun around.

"Do you know what that worm said to me? He told me I was ugly, like a Halloween witch, and to go fly my broom. I hate him."

His hearty laugh split the air and the sea echoed it back. "This can't be the same boy that you spent all last weekend with hunting shells and exploring. If I remember correctly, you told Sarah he was your one true love."

She looked at him with pity. "That was forever ago, Father. If I told Aunt Sarah what he said to me, she would let me turn him into a jelly fish." She snapped her fingers. "Perfect. Spineless, just like him."

"I somehow doubt that. You know how much Sarah likes that young man."

"Because he puts on an act when she's around him. The sneaky little slime."

The wind rose and the calm water kicked up spitting salt in his face. He put his hands on her thin shoulders.

"That's enough, young lady. Kindly return the day to its formerly sunny self, and calm down."

She looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears. "Oh, you'll never understand. It's because you're a male like him."

He watched her stride away, shaking his head. The age and the emotions that went along with it baffled him. One minute she was his sweet young Irish colleen and the next a virago. Sarah informed him she would grow out of this phase, but he wasn't so sure. He let his gaze roam over his beloved Irish landscape. The smell of the ocean and the emerald green grass never failed to soothe him. That, and a trip to the pub for some advice and a pint or two. He headed that way, his thoughts on his daughter.

A big man with huge shoulders and bulging forearms, Shamus loved life as a fisherman. Yet he wanted more than just the sea for Cassie. She was extremely bright, as the teachers kept telling him, but it was her inherited gifts that were disturbing him. He thought back to the night he and Katrina had been married. She had come to him, looking like an angel, dressed all in white.

"I have something to tell you." She had sat on his lap, her slender fingers running through his curly black hair. "I have tried to tell you before, but it can no longer be put off, my love." Her eyes danced. "In a town as small as this, 'tis a surprise ye haven't heard before now. The truth of the matter is, you've married a witch."

He was startled for a moment, looking for the teasing glimmer in her eyes he had seen so often. Legends and fairy tales were part of Ireland and he had paid little attention to them. He had pulled her against his hard body, her softness exciting him.

"Sure and I'm a sorcerer, my wife," he'd tossed back, his big hands busy untying the soft lace robe.

She had stood and faced him with the same deep green eyes as his daughter. "This is not a laughing matter."

She gracefully raised her hands above her head and spun in a circle, her delicate bare feet leaving the floor as sparks flew around her, lighting the darkened room. At his look of amazement, a mysterious smile lit her lips. With a wave of her hand, she was on the ground once again, her arms around his neck.

"I have much to tell you, Shamus. Things you might have a hard time believing, but you will, my love, you will."

He had, and his love for her had grown as time passed. She had been so very excited when she discovered a child was on the way and he had shared in her joy. And now he stood outside the pub, his thoughts too melancholy for him to enter. Leaning against the weathered stone, the familiar ache in his chest, he remembered that day as if it was yesterday.

When the pains started, she was elated, bearing the labor stoically, only awaiting the time when she could see their baby. Their daughter arrived pink and bellowing, her tiny face bright red. Katrina cuddled her, shedding tears of joy as she quieted her as only a mother could. She caressed the baby's soft skin and the infant had stared at her mother intently, her eyes wide. He had sworn he saw a flash of light go from mother to daughter and he would never forget how the two of them looked at that particular moment in time. It was a picture he kept locked in his store of memories. One of the last he had of them together. It wasn't long after that the bleeding started and he had been shooed out of the room. They had tried everything to stop the hemorrhaging, but all the medical knowledge and witchcraft in the world couldn't save his beloved wife.

He shook his head, pushing the memories firmly back and opened the door to the pub. The welcoming sounds of laughter and glasses clinking filled the air and he made his way to the bar, greeting neighbors as he went. He grabbed a stool by another massive man like himself and slapped him on the back.

"Top of the afternoon, to ye, Thomas. It seems your son has my daughter in a tizzy once again, my friend."

A grin split the other man's face as the bartender served Shamus his usual. "Those two are like oil and water. One minute the best of friends and the next mortal enemies. Maggie says it's the age."

Shamus nodded, taking a gulp of ale and wiping his mouth. "Sarah says the same. I'm not so sure I'll survive until that 'age' is over with. What worries me is that the girl is reminding me more and more of my Katrina."

Copyright © 2006 Anita Whiting