Wild Irish Roots (The Mystic Cove Series) Read Online Free PDF

of that shattered board. Had Fiona done that?
    Margaret began to shake as the potential for what had just happened washed over her. A part of her...a very small part of her...was ecstatic that Fiona had saved Ainsley. It had been amazing to see. And, yet. What had happened in that bedroom defied explanation. Margaret couldn't imagine living her life with this kind of ability. No wonder people whispered about Fiona. It all made sense now.
    "Margaret." Fiona's voice was shaky and Margaret merely turned her head to watch her mother.
    Fiona looked older, her face tense with fatigue and something else. Margaret tested Fiona's emotions. Fear. Her mother was afraid, Margaret realized with surprise. She'd never known Margaret to be scared of anything before. Margaret looked down at her hands for a moment before responding.
    "Let's get out of here," she whispered.
    Fiona's face tensed but she said nothing and nodded. She held the keys up.
    "I'll need you to drive. I'm too tired."
    Margaret stared in surprise at her mother and realized that whatever she had just done had taken a lot out of her. Trembling, she took the keys from Fiona and walked around to the driver's-side door.
    She stopped and looked at the small cottage, where a child's laughter now floated through the window. Moments ago the house had been shrouded in darkness and sadness and now, relief and happiness seemed to float around the home. Margaret shook her head and got into the car. How could this be a bad thing when the result was good? Confused and upset, she started the car and backed carefully from the driveway.
    On the road home, she finally looked at Fiona.
    "What are you?"

Chapter Eight
    ––––––––
    F iona sighed and gave Margaret a disgusted look.
    "I'm your mother first and foremost. Don't talk to me like that," Fiona ordered sternly. Margaret kept her eyes on the road, her mind trying to process everything.
    "Are you a witch?" Margaret asked shakily.
    Fiona sputtered out a laugh and Margaret felt a flush creep up her cheeks as her mother bent over in her seat and laughed from deep within her belly.
    "Oh, I’m glad that you think this is so funny," Margaret hissed at Fiona. She sped up, wanting to be out of this car, away from Fiona, away from this crazy town.
    "I'm no more a witch than you are," Fiona gasped out.
    "I'm not a witch!" Margaret screamed and Fiona sat up straight, turning to put her hand on Margaret's arm. Margaret jerked her arm away, breathing heavily. "I'm normal. I want a normal life, I don’t want any of this."
    "You can't change who you are...what you are," Fiona said softly.
    Margaret pulled the car into their drive and got out right away. She felt the pain building in her heart; turning, she unleashed her fury on her mother.
    "I don't want this...this life," Margaret said as she swooped her hands over the cottage and to the cove. "I don't want to know what other people are feeling. And, I certainly don't want to watch my mother literally lift a sickness from someone with her bare hands. That...is like beyond crazy. How am I supposed to live like this?" Margaret shouted, her chest heaving as she stared wildly at Fiona.
    Fiona stood straight, her daughter's abuse falling on proud shoulders.
    "I've told you that you are special. For years, I've tried to show you how your gift can help the world. I've chosen to use mine for good. I can no more change who or what I am then I can force you to accept yourself. But, until you do, you'll never be happy," Fiona said fiercely.
    "Lies. All lies," Margaret hissed and paced in front of her mother. "My gift can't help anyone. And it's not a gift. It's a headache...an inconvenience. I don't need it."
    Fiona watched Margaret pace but said nothing.
    "I–I get that you did something great back there. You saved a life. Intellectually, I understand that what you did was of great service to that family. But, in my heart, I just can't accept it," Margaret whispered, and held her clenched fist to