Visions and Spells

by Kate Allenton

  “Gun,” Quinn screamed the moment the maid fired. A searing pain sliced through her ass. The sudden impact made her lose her grip, and she fell.

  Collin caught her. How he’d managed with an injury himself was beyond her. They were both going to need a doctor. The crowd parted as he carried her through the courtyard. He paused at where Garth had Abigail restrained with her hands behind her back.

  “Abigail was working with Ramsey, and she set Garth’s place on fire in an attempt to keep everyone busy while she killed me,” Quinn said as her vision blurred. No way was she passing out in front of them.

  “Contain her and call the police. Have them charge her with arson and attempted murder.”

  He started walking past them, and Quinn glanced over his shoulder and hollered out, “Don’t forget conspiracy to commit theft.” Collin’s face doubled before her eyes. “I’m about to pass out.”

  “I’ve got you, Quinn.”

  “You saved me.” Her words came out a whisper before her world went dark.

  Chapter 21

  Collin held Quinn in the back of the car while Angus drove to the hospital. The front of his jeans was covered in blood from holding her in his lap, but he didn’t care. He should have never let her out of his sight. He scooted out with her still in his arms. His own shirt was covered in blood from the stitches he’d torn catching her and carrying her, yet he pushed through the pain and walked with her in his arms directly into the emergency room.

  The eyes of the nurse behind the counter widened as she hurried to open the restricted door to let them pass. She guided Collin to one of the rooms, where he carefully laid Quinn down on her side. “She was shot in the arse.”

  “Doctor,” the nurse hollered as she left the room.

  The next three hours passed as slow as molasses. Collin had spent the time being lectured about ruining his stitches as he was being patched up. He had sent Angus to the castle for fresh clothes and had changed. The rest of the time, he spent pacing in the waiting room.

  He’d just changed when Ian showed up. He patted Collin’s back and sat down beside him.

  “Just say the word if you need me to come over and help protect Quinn.”

  Ian’s words would have angered Collin any other day, but the truth was he was doing a poor job at keeping her safe. He’d been too caught up in the passion between them to even consider Ramsey had an accomplice.

  “Abigail was working with Ramsey,” Collin muttered and ran a hand through his hair.

  “The maid?” he asked.

  “Yeah. She burned down Garth’s house and set Quinn’s room on fire before locking her inside. Quinn escaped out the window.”

  “Good Lord, Collin. I don’t know how you’re going to talk Quinn into stayin’ after all that.”

  “She already told me she’s no’.” His answer felt like a vise grip around his heart. “She’s leaving in the morning.”

  “That’s going to be one uncomfortable flight.”

  “Aye.”

  The doctor walked into the waiting room and lowered the mask covering his mouth.

  “How is she?” Collin asked as his heart worked overtime thumping against his ribcage.

  “She’s fine. We’ve removed the bullet and stitched her up.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “Sure. She’s a little loopy from the drugs, but you can see her.”

  Collin followed the doctor down the hall and into recovery. Quinn was lying on her stomach. Her red hair covered the pillow.

  “She shot me in the arse.”

  Collin’s lips twisted into a smile at Quinn’s attempted Scottish accent.

  “That she did, luv.”

  “Scotland is just like flowers. They both want me to die.”

  “That wasnae Scotland, Quinn. That was Ramsey and Abigail. You cannae condemn a whole country for the actions of two crazy psychopaths. I bet you attract them everywhere you go.”

  “Don’t forget the ghosts.” She pointed to the empty corner of the room.

  “Which ghosts came to visit?” Collin asked around his smile.

  “All of them,” she said, pointing again. “Redbeard, Ian’s white-haired relative, Gwinnie.” She paused and looked at Collin. “Who, by the way, was the one responsible for giving your emerald away to Clarence’s ascendants. She was trying to help the poor.” Quinn turned her gaze back to the corner. “Clarence, go sing your opera to someone else.”

  “Do you want me to call your pilot and delay your flight home?”

  “Nooooo.” Her eyes widened as she lifted her swaying head. “I have to goooo.” She held out her hand and let it drop over the edge of the bed. “Collin, get me out of here.”

  “I cannae do that, Quinn, until the doctor releases you,” Collin said, moving closer to her. He stroked her hair. “I’ll get you to the airport. Just try and get some rest.”

  She nodded, and her eyes fell shut.

  Collin spent the next hour in her room, sending away every bouquet that they attempted to deliver. He called Angus and had him inform the pilot what was going on in an attempt to explain to her family. The constable, also a friend of Collin’s, had stopped by to take his statement about the fire and Abigail. He told Collin they’d found a storage unit that Ramsey was using to hide the stolen belongings.

  The hospital released Quinn a few hours later, after she’d created a fuss and the drugs had left her system. Getting her home was somewhat of a challenge with her trying to sit. She ended up laying her head in Collin’s lap while Angus drove.

  His room and hers were filled with smoke from the fire and were being aired out, so they both stayed in one of the guestrooms on the first floor after she insisted on somewhere with an easier escape.

  The morning would come early for both of them, so he held her in his arms all night long, unable to sleep. He listened to the sound of her breaths and stared at the ceiling. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned their last night together.

  “You’re thinking too loud,” she mumbled and lifted her head to look into his eyes.

  “Sorry.” He kissed her lips. “I was just thinking. Do you really have to go back?”

  “Collin, we both know I do.”

  “Why? What is so pressing that you need to return? It’s no’ like we donae have ghosts in Scotland. You could stay here. Work from here, or hell, donae work at all. None of it matters except you and me being together. I love you, Quinn, and you love me too. That should mean something.”

  “It did. It does. I have to go back. I could never walk out on my family; I’m a partner for cripes sake; just like I could never ask you to abandon your home. Face it, Collin. We’re from two very different worlds.”

  “Quinn, we can make it work. We’ve survived everything that was thrown at us. We can survive the small issue of distance.”

  “I have to go home.” She rested her head against his chest.

  “Will you come back?” Collin was almost afraid to ask, not wanting to hear her say no.

  “I’ll try.”

  Chapter 22

  Quinn grimaced while staring into the airport bathroom mirror and swiped one more time to rid the smudged mascara from her red, swollen eyes and the tears started to pool again. How was it, after the long flight, that she had any tears left to shed? Saying goodbye to Collin had been hard. Seeing the disappointment on his face had made her feel like pond scum. She had to return, didn’t she? Quinn knew the minute the plane took flight that she’d left her heart behind, and if her family didn’t agree, they’d get over it.

  Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the bathroom and greeted Cara’s and Becca’s worried stares. Quinn headed directly into the line of fire, knowing their questions wouldn’t wait. “I stopped a thief, scaled two walls, and got shot in the ass.”

  Their eyes widened in surprise, but she’d saved the best shocker for last.

  “And I fell head over ass in love with a Highlander.”

  She loved that she could shock them into
silence. She’d perfected it over the years. Quinn clapped her hands to get their brains functioning again. “Gird up, girls, and call our sisters back home. We have work to do. Linked Inc. is going international. Which one of you knows a good international attorney?”

  They still stared, silently, as if her face was covered in green ooze and she was speaking in a foreign language.

  Cara was the first to speak. “Wait, what? You fell in love?”

  “Is that all you retained from everything I just said?”

  She nodded, and Quinn smiled, letting her sister see the shine in her eyes. “I’m madly in love with Collin Menzie.” Quinn grinned bigger. “I bleed green.”

  “Umm….I’m not sure that’s possible,” Becca said, tilting her head. “I’m pretty sure it’s closer to a crimson color.”

  Yeah, okay. Quinn grabbed the handle of her suitcase, wound her arm through Becca’s and started toward the car.

  ****

  A week later, eyeball deep in international paperwork, Quinn’s eyes were starting to cross when a knock sounded on her office door. She glanced up to find her secretary with a package in her hand. “This was just delivered for you.”

  “Thanks.” Quinn smiled, hoping the package was from their new international attorney.

  The package was heavier than she expected. Quinn ripped it open to find a hardback book inside so she slipped it out. It was the sequel to the book she’d suggested to Garth, the Menzie’s caretaker. She opened the cover to find an inscription on the first page.

  An advanced copy for my pushy American friend. May the mystery, romance, and intrigue that I’ve written keep you entertained should you ever find yourself on a long flight back to Scotland.

  Garth- “The Lumberjack.”

  Not much shocked Quinn in life, but Garth was the author of one of her favorite books! This was indeed a twisted world. Heat flooded her cheeks as a smile split her lips. She flipped the book over to the author’s photo. It was the lumberjack, clean shaven and wearing a suit.

  For two whole weeks, little trinkets started arriving at her office. Her lost dagger from Mavis, a package of cookies from Angus, and a red plaid bra from Ian with a note attached that said, Red yet?

  No amount of Quinn’s mother’s nagging and bitching at dinner tonight could shake her resolve. Scotland called to her; going back wasn’t a whim. She truly missed Collin.

  “You’re really doing this? You’re willing to uproot your entire life and career over a guy?” Cara asked, leaning against Quinn’s doorframe.

  “I am,” Quinn answered, signing the last document that would seal her fate. She shoved the paper inside an envelope to send to the attorney. “He’s the one, Cara.”

  She smiled as an out of breath Rebecca ran into Quinn’s office. “Quinn, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have a situation.”

  Quinn slowly rose from her seat. “What?”

  “Misty has a caller on the line who insists he has a curse and is demanding to speak with you.”

  A curse. Seriously? Quinn rounded her desk and stepped out into the call center, where all of the staff was working, some giving readings, some flipping tarot cards. It was just a typical day. Quinn spotted Misty across the room, standing in front of her computer, talking adamantly with her hands.

  She looked relieved as she handed over her headset and stepped back to give Quinn room. Quinn slipped the headset on and cleared her throat. “Sir, we don’t handle curses.”

  “Aye, so you’ve said, but I’m afraid I must insist.” Collin’s smooth baritone voice sounded like music to her ears, so she sat down in the chair and smiled.

  “Is that so?” Her voice deepened to that of a phone sex operator.

  “See, the thing is, my cook is psychic, and she’s had a vision.”

  “Well, I’m sure the psychic cook can handle your curse problem.”

  “No, luv. See the portrait she painted depicting the curse isnae one that can be handled without your help.”

  Quinn leaned back in the chair and twirled her hair through her fingers. “You’ll have to tell me exactly what’s in this portrait.”

  “Turn around and find out.”

  Quinn spun in the chair to find Collin dressed in his sexy-ass kilt with a phone pressed against his ear, standing at the end of the row of cubicles. He was holding a portrait covered in brown paper.

  Quinn tossed the headset onto the desk and sashayed toward him, unable to stop her grin. Ignoring the fact that he was holding whatever the painting was, she tossed her arms around his neck and kissed him with every bit of passion that had been building since the day she’d flown home.

  Catcalls and cheers sounded throughout the room, but none of that mattered. She broke the kiss but kept her hold. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to bring you home, and there’s this portrait business we need to discuss.”

  “Well then,” Quinn said, pulling at the hem of her suit jacket and stepping back. “Business first and then pleasure. Lots and lots of pleasure.”

  His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Pleasure’s gonna have to wait. We have dinner plans after business.”

  Quinn’s brows dipped as she led him into her office and closed the door behind them. If she’d had blinds, she would have dropped them too. “You’re not even in town for a day, and you’ve already made friends?”

  “What can I say? I’m a likable guy.”

  “Yes, you are.” Quinn crossed the room and cupped his cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  He lowered his head and melded his mouth with hers before he broke the kiss. “Business first.”

  “Okay, show it to me. We handled the last curse. We can handle this one.”

  He lifted it into the chair, and with her stomach tied in knots, Quinn tore the paper off and stared with her mouth agape.

  The painting depicted Collin standing behind Quinn while she held a baby swaddled in a green plaid blanket.

  “It appears we’re cursed to have bairns.”

  “Who?” Quinn shook the surprise from her head.

  As if reading her thoughts, he answered, “Mavis painted it after another one of her visions.”

  “But I’m not….”

  “Pregnant,” he answered wrapping his arms around her waist. “No’ yet.” He placed a kiss on her neck. “Grab your purse. We’re going to be late.”

  “Late, where?” she asked, grabbing her purse from the drawer.

  “You’ll see.” He chuckled and led her out of the building, as if he’d been there a million times before, and into a waiting limo. She couldn’t wipe the happiness from her face or ignore the fact that they were alone. She hiked her business skirt up and climbed into his lap. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me too. I figured I gave you enough time to miss me.”

  Laughter erupted from her lips. “If that were the case, you could have followed me home. I missed you before takeoff.”

  His hands trailed a path up her back and into her hair. He pulled the clip free, letting her red curls fall. “Dinner, then pleasure.”

  “Pleasure and then dinner,” she corrected, unbuttoning the top button of her blouse.

  “We’re here.” He redid the button and eased her off his lap. Quinn glanced out the window and up at the familiar three-story beach house.

  “Why are we at my parents?” she asked, feeling a bit agitated that she had to share Collin with them so soon.

  “I was invited to dinner,” he answered, as if that explained everything. He slipped out of the limo and held out his hand. “I couldnae say no.”

  “Yes, yes, you could have.” Her voice rose an octave as she took his hand and got out. “You aren’t going to do something cliché like propose marriage in front of them, are you?”

  He kissed her lips and whispered in her ear. “Worse.”

  He pulled Quinn to the door.

  “Wait, what could be worse?” she asked as the door swung open. Ian was standing on the threshold in his kilt.
>
  “There’s my favorite American.” He stepped out and crushed her in his arms, spinning her like a girl with a new doll.

  “Put me down before I hurt you.”

  “That is no way to talk to our guests,” Quinn’s mother called out from behind the big brute.

  “Sorry, Mom, but he’s not a guest. He’s a pain in my—”

  “Quinn Elizabeth,” her mother said, scolding her.

  Quinn rolled her eyes as Ian lowered her to her feet and stepped out of the way for Collin and her to enter. The house was silent. She felt like a child about to give her first oral report. All eyes would be on her if Collin actually did what he said. She stepped into the large living room and froze. Every Scot she’d ever met was inside—Angus and Mavis, as well as other staff from the castle. Well, except the ones in jail or dead. Quinn’s parents and sisters stood with hopeful looks on their faces, as though they were in on some big secret she’d been excluded from. Quinn turned to flee, and Collin’s arm snaked around her waist.

  “I told you she’d try and run,” Cara said taking a twenty-dollar bill from Becca.

  Collin led Quinn to the middle of the room. Heat flooded her face.

  “You may think this is romantic, but it’s not,” she whispered.

  “Aye. It will be.” Collin dropped to his knee and held out the largest emerald ring she’d ever seen. “Quinn Thatcher.”

  “That better not be part of the cursed emerald.”

  “Aye, just a small part. I returned the rest to Ian. Now shut up and let me finish.”

  Quinn smiled down at him. Not many people would dare tell her to shut up, and she loved him for it.

  “We thought you were returning something to us, but you stole something much more valuable.”

  “I did not,” she quipped and glanced around the room at all the familiar faces.

  “Aye. You did. You stole my heart.” He rose to his feet. “You once told me that I save you, and you save me. That’s why we work.”