Caitlin’s eyes hadn’t left Trevor. “Holy shit,” she said, eyes wide with amazement.
Ferchar didn’t take the same obtrusive approach. “McKayla is one of many that you owe an explanation to, lad. If I didnae love your Da so well, I’d probably have a blade to your throat.”
McKayla was surprised when she saw Trevor’s expression shift to anger. “Everything I did was for the good of the clan.”
Chill after chill ran down her spine. “What are you talking about? What clan?”
Trevor’s eyes met hers, determined. “The MacLomains.” He closed his eyes then met hers again. “McKayla, I’m not who you think I am.”
“Yeah, got that,” she said, shaking her head.
“Who are you exactly?” Leslie said, blatantly curious.
Sheila sat next to McKayla and held her hand. Seth had become nothing less than a pent up beast. There was no doubt he used a great deal of restraint to remain silent.
“The mask,” Trevor said softly. “Though it can invoke control of lucid dreaming it didn’t do so in your case.” His green eyes locked with hers. “You truly traveled back in time, McKayla. Where you met me…the real me, Colin MacLomain.”
Chapter Four
McKayla blinked a few times and narrowed her eyes. What was he up to? This had to be some sort of joke. Unable to help herself, she chuckled. Then she laughed when it occurred to her what they were doing. Looking around the room she shook her head and said, “All right, I’ve found you all out. Is this a ‘step into the book’ sort of party? Because if it is, you’ve outdone yourselves.”
Nobody smiled. Trevor’s disposition turned more and more troubled. “I never wanted you to find out this way.” He frowned at Ferchar. “This should’ve been handled differently.”
Ferchar’s eyes darkened. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“She’ll never believe him unless he shows her.” Caitlin put a hand on her husband’s arm. “Unless he shows all of us.”
Trevor shook his head. “Nay, ‘tis not a good idea, lass.”
It felt like someone had sucker punched her. “Did you just speak with a brogue?” McKayla asked.
“Aye,” Trevor muttered. “I’m sorry. It takes a lot of effort to speak as you do.”
What? She kept shaking her head. “I’ve known you for years. You’ve always spoken with a New England accent. Never once did you…why didn’t you tell me you were from Scotland? I wouldn’t have cared.”
“None of us would have,” Sheila assured, her tea bag long over-steeped in now cold water.
“It might have proved helpful when she was writing this book,” Leslie said. “You could have given her great feedback.”
“What are you,” Seth growled at Trevor.
They all looked at Seth, astounded by the sheer fury on his face.
“Enough,” Ferchar said and stepped forward.
Seth seemed to pull back into himself and everything quieted.
Caitlin made Trevor get up so she could sit on the other side of McKayla. Taking her hand, she scowled at all three men. “Make this clear for McKayla or so help me I’ll take you all out. And don’t think I won’t.”
Seth looked genuinely upset. “I’m so sorry. Trust me, McKayla this is going to be one helluva day. I experienced something similar three years ago.”
Inhaling deeply, she nodded. He was obviously hurting right now. “Okay, tell me then.”
“Me, Andrea, Leathan and Devin had gone on an investigation unlike any other.”
“And?”
He started to take a swig of coffee but stopped and lowered his mug, clearly upset by what he was about to tell her. “It was at this Victorian house where I learned that a lot more exists in this world than we think.”
“Like what?” Leslie asked, completely intrigued.
Seth’s brows arched in resignation. “Like magic, vampires, bad things.” He cleared his throat, uncomfortable as he looked at McKayla. “Even warlocks.”
She held Caitlin’s hand tighter. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Why are you saying this?”
“Because he’s trying to come clean with you,” Caitlin said. “About all that’s out there that normal people don’t know about.”
It was impossible to swallow as she looked at her cousin and whispered, “How would you know?”
Caitlin twirled the sapphire centered Claddagh ring on her finger. “Because I’m a witch, sweetie.”
McKayla instinctively pulled her hand away. “I’m not sure what you’re all up to but I’m ready for the game to be over, okay?”
“This isn’t a game,” Trevor said, voice both sad and resolute. “There’s so much out there beyond what you all know. Always has been and always will be.”
“Trevor,” she whispered, pleading with her eyes for him to stop, to start laughing, to send her a text saying, ‘Got ya!’
But his phone was still in her hand and he wasn’t laughing.
Sheila seemed to be handling this with as much stride as Leslie. But perhaps they thought this was a joke, too.
“I think the easiest place to start is at the beginning,” Ferchar said, compassionate as he looked at her. “And that was in Scotland a verra long time ago. You are familiar with my grandfather, Adlin MacLomain, are you not?”
“Yes, of course, he was in love with Mildred, Caitlin’s grandmother. They lived in the house you now live in.”
“That’s right, lass,” he said gently. “Yet they didnae meet here in New Hampshire but in early eleventh century Scotland.”
“She traveled through time to meet him,” Caitlin said, nostalgia in her eyes. “Theirs was a great love, one that went through many trials and tribulations. In the end they were together as it was always meant to be.”
McKayla looked from Caitlin to Ferchar. They were speaking truthfully.
“But Adlin was born long before he found Mildred,” Ferchar said. “It was he who birthed the great MacLomain clan. He was able to do this because he was an immortal wizard.”
Slack-jawed, Sheila shook her head and whispered, “I always speculated this stuff could exist.” She looked at McKayla. “Didn’t I tell you it wouldn’t hurt to slip some of it into your book!”
“When he was younger Adlin created something called a Highland Defiance. A way to travel through time. As he got older he no longer needed it. Between his power and the rings, time travel became much easier,” Ferchar said.
“What rings?” Leslie asked.
Caitlin held out her hand. “Gem centered Claddagh rings. They’re meant to bring true love together. They transport members of the Broun and MacLomain clans through time so their souls can be joined. The gem in the ring matched the wizard’s eye color and brought forth a powerful bond that could never be broken.”
McKayla stared between Caitlin and Ferchar, not looking in Trevor’s direction. “Is that one of them?”
Caitlin nodded, a warm smile on her face. “It brought Ferchar and me together.”
“Across time,” Ferchar said. “McKayla, I am not from modern day Scotland but medieval Scotland…early thirteenth century to be more precise. I was not only chieftain to the MacLomain Clan but one of four wizards.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to make sense of what they were telling her. Though their story was extremely far-fetched she couldn’t help think about the inspiration this property had lent her. Never once had she contemplated writing about medieval Scotland before moving here. Yet that could be just coincidence…couldn’t it?
But she was not so blind that she didn’t see and feel what was happening around her.
Especially between Seth and Trevor.
They had put as much distance between one another as possible which wasn’t much in the small kitchen. Seth looked ready to drive a stake through Trevor’s heart and Trevor had become the uncharacteristic brooding beast from the night before. Their arms were crossed over their chests in defensive, unyielding postures.
Caitlin looked at th
e three women. “You are all Brouns and like me, witches.”
McKayla’s throat went bone dry.
Sheila sat up a little straighter but said nothing.
“You are all completely out of your mind,” Leslie said with assurance and once more focused on her tablet before she looked at McKayla. “But what a great inspiration for your future work.” Then she rethought that because she shook her head and said, “Paranormal and fantasy doesn’t sell nearly as well as straight historical or even contemporary. So, keep that in mind.”
Unable to help herself, Sheila shrugged. “I don’t know. There are several paranormal and fantasy authors who have made it huge.” She cast a flippant look at Leslie then focused on McKayla. “You just have to set aside the influence of tight-assed, close-minded advisors and be willing to take chances.”
“Or,” Leslie said smoothly to McKayla though her eyes narrowed on Sheila. “You can take the advice of an agent who has already locked in a five-figure book deal before your novel has even hit the shelves.”
Being surrounded by witches and time-travelers seemed less daunting by the minute when faced with being pulled into a Leslie/Sheila blow-out. However, for the first time ever, she could admit she preferred the ever-annoying distraction they provided. Without them she’d have to look at Trevor…then Seth.
And both were scaring the heck out of her right now.
“Are you okay, McKayla? Because there is more you need to know. Much more,” Ferchar said.
Caitlin again squeezed her hand, eyes reassuring.
Whether she truly believed it or not, McKayla could think of only one response. “Do I have a choice?”
“Nay,” Ferchar said without hesitation. Though his concerned eyes still flickered with a hint of compassion it was soon replaced with a driven, somewhat hard gaze. “Do you remember what we talked about last night? About the connection between the Brouns and MacLomains?”
She nodded.
“The connections continue it seems.” He glanced at Trevor. “While I dinnae ken the reasons yet, he’s here for you and rest assured, he is a MacLomain. Born to be a chieftain, I cannae speak about the details of his life save he’s important and should never have approached you as he has.” This time Ferchar’s eyes grew turbulent. “He has been here without me suspecting it in the least for far too long, which means either he is more powerful than I or he has others protecting him who are.”
“You make me sound like a monster when I’m nothing more than a shifter. I love Kay. I’d never do anything to hurt her,” Trevor said.
“I’m not sure you should call me Kay anymore,” she said.
Wounded, his eyes pleaded with her briefly before he looked away.
“Shifter,” Sheila said, looking at him. “Like a shape-shifter?”
“Aye,” Trevor said softly.
“And you’re also a wizard,” Seth ground out. “Don’t think I don’t know.”
“Which, naturally, is so much worse than you being a warlock,” Trevor said sarcastically.
They were what? Her heart pounded. “Both of you shut up!” McKayla barked then snapped her mouth shut. Had she just said that?
Everyone looked at her. Nobody said a word. She wasn’t a confrontational person so although she’d lashed out, McKayla didn’t have much to follow it. Time to think this all over would be her first choice. Alone. With no fighting, accusing or distractions, but evidently that wasn’t an option. Overwhelmed, she looked at Leslie. If anyone could make sense of this, it was her.
Not needing further prompting her cousin looked at Trevor and Seth. “You two mean the most to her. If we’re to move forward with this tall tale there needs to be proof.” When she continued speaking McKayla realized Leslie didn’t believe them in the least. “Seth, do something warlocky. Trevor, leave the room and return as this Colin person. I only say to leave the room because the very idea of someone transforming in front of me is nauseating. So out of the room for five seconds then back in. Sound good?”
Seth’s brows drew down. “Something warlocky? Are you serious?”
“Verra,” Ferchar said, arms crossed. “And make it good.”
“Aren’t you worried about your son in the other room?” Seth said caustically.
“If it wasnae for my bairn nobody would be the wiser. Seems he’s brighter than the lot of us. But no worries, he’s watching cartoons.”
Seth shook his head. “Fine.” He looked at McKayla. “Can I sit next to you?”
The idea sort of irritated her but she said, “Yeah.”
If looks could kill the one Trevor shot Seth would’ve put him in an early grave.
Seth sighed when he sat down. “Do you know how much this blows?”
“Which part,” she replied, “That you lied to me or…wait, there’s nothing worse than that if this proves to be true.” McKayla frowned. “So it better not be.”
“Damn, Kay,” he started but she interrupted.
“I don’t think I’m Kay to you either right now.”
Seth ground his jaw and nodded. “Understandable.” He took her hand and said, “Though my craft is dark magic, I can do good things with it. So tell me, what do you want me to do right now. What will prove to you that I am a warlock?”
“Make it rain.”
“Inside or out?”
“Inside.”
“That’ll ruin your appliances.”
“Then make it snow.”
“You don’t think that’ll do the same?”
“Really, guys?” Sheila broke in.
McKayla couldn’t help but feel a bit lighter. This was Seth after all.
A brilliant idea occurred to her. One she knew would put them all to the test. Maybe. And Seth would surely back out when he heard. “Okay, summon me a Claddagh ring with a gem the exact shade of Trevor’s eyes.”
“Nay, dinnae do it,” Trevor said, angered.
“Nay, dinnae,” Ferchar agreed.
“Why not?” Leslie asked, obviously impressed.
Hurt, McKayla looked at Trevor. “If Seth can summon it then he should be able to unsummon it. Worse case, you or Ferchar will. No worries, I don’t want to be with you, anyway.”
“You dinnae ken,” Trevor shot back.
Too late.
Seth must’ve somehow seen an opportunity to lash out at Trevor. Clasping her hands he began to murmur. “Irish ring of gold, green at center, her one true love. Irish et inaurem auream unam. viridem ad centrum. illi qui in amore veri.”
Trevor roared in rage but it was too late. A ring similar to Caitlin’s appeared on her finger with a bright emerald at its center. McKayla felt nothing but a cool breeze wrap around her finger before the ring appeared. Dumbfounded she stared. This couldn’t be!
“You bloody bastard, I dinnae have green eyes in my true form!” Trevor said.
“Sucks to be you!” Seth roared back. “If you hadn’t been deceiving her all these years you might not be in this position.”
Before Trevor could get to him, Ferchar was between them.
It took more magic than any of them were ready to witness for Ferchar to keep them apart. Black sparks spit around the room. The microwave crackled then lit on fire. Dishware exploded. Even the overhead light popped and broke.
The girls screeched.
Caitlin waved a loose hand and put out the fires.
Only little Logan’s declaration seemed to halt them all. “No more Scotland!”
“Och, nay laddie,” Ferchar said and lashed out one last time. Whatever he unleashed had both men falling back, motionless. He scooped up his son and walked away, whispering, “Always Scotland for ye me wee bairn, just not for the likes of them, aye?”
Caitlin stood, hands on her hips, and looked between the paralyzed men. “Never a good idea to piss off a Scotsman’s bairn. It tends to piss off the Scotsman himself.” She looked at Trevor, disappointed. “You especially should know that.”
Shaking her head, Caitlin pursued her husband and son out of the r
oom.
McKayla, Leslie and Sheila all remained motionless, looking back and forth between the unmoving slack-jawed men. Never in her wildest imagination could she have dreamed up what she’d just witnessed. Not only did she wear the very ring she’d requested of Seth but Ferchar with one quick motion of his hand turned both of these big men senseless.
Leslie waved her hand in front of Trevor’s face but he only stared back unseeing. Sheila did the same with Seth but his expression remained frozen. The women looked at each other before they sat down at the table. McKayla, for the life of her, could summon no fear for either man. Shouldn’t she be afraid? What if they remained this way? Lifeless.
“Do you think…” Sheila started but stopped.
“Perhaps they’re just…” McKayla started but stopped.
Leslie stared blankly for several long seconds before she stood and grabbed the coffee pot, careful not to nudge Trevor’s lifeless form. After she filled hers and McKayla’s mugs she sat down again, not touching what she’d just poured. She folded her hands neatly on the table.
“Do you suppose we’re all wearing a Lucid Dream mask and don’t realize it?”
For the first time in a very long time Sheila smiled in Leslie’s direction. “I’m not sure if I hope so or not.”
McKayla placed her hand on the table and they all stared at the ring. “Do you think I should take it off?”
Leslie touched it then glanced between the two men before her eyes returned to McKayla’s. “It couldn’t hurt, right?”
“Who knows. Maybe it could,” Sheila said.
“Well she won’t know unless she tries.”
“Look at everything we just witnessed. God knows what might happen,” Sheila argued.
And just like that, the two of them were at it again. So she took matters into her own hands and tried to pull it off. No luck. The elegantly carved ring didn’t budge an inch. Instead of panicking she asked logically, “What do we know about Claddagh rings?”
Mark of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation, Book 1) Page 6