Visions of Vengeance: A Paranormal Romance (The Gypsy's Curse Book 2)

by Meg Anne

  “What I had to,” Giles whispered as the light began to fade.

  Once it was gone, all that remained were pools of blood where Maggie and Oliver had once stood.

  “Go with the angels,” Giles said, shoulders slumped and head bowed. “May ye finally find peace, my friends.”

  The vision faded, and Skye pitched forward onto her hands and knees. Kneeling beside her, Lucas called her name, but Skye struggled to catch her breath. What the hell just happened? Skye had never seen the past before, but she knew without a doubt that’s what had just happened.

  Her body shook, the need to cry and vomit at war within her. She was feeling too much, too quickly, and her body struggled to process what was happening

  “Skye, baby, are you okay?” Lucas brushed her hair out of her face, tilting her chin gently toward him.

  The power still swirling in his eyes startled her, and she pulled out of his grasp. Hurt flashed across his face. It was only there a second, but there was no missing the pain in his eyes, or the tightening of his lips.

  Lucas sucked in a quick breath, his brow furrowing as he searched her gaze. “Start talking,” he demanded, slipping into the cool formality of his police training.

  Skye shook her head. Instead, she looked up past his shoulder, to where Giles stood rooted to the floor. Fury filled her, a fiery inferno that burned her from the inside out, desperate for her to unleash it. She pushed herself off of the ground and lunged at him.

  Lucas dove out of the way, narrowly dodging a flailing limb as Skye slapped Giles across the face once, twice.

  “Whoa!” Lizzie cried.

  She was drawing back to do it a third time when Lucas stopped her. “Skye, what the hell has gotten into you?” Lucas shouted, wrapping an arm across her chest to pull her off of the older man.

  “You. Fucking. Liar!” she screamed.

  Giles stood there and took it. He didn’t fight her blows, nor deny her words.

  Lucas looked from the enraged Skye to Giles. He was staring down at his feet, fidgeting nervously under Lucas’ scrutiny. “Is there something you need to tell us?”

  “Tell them, or I will,” Skye threatened, her voice low and deadly. This man had known, all along, who the Druid was, and he’d lied to them. He’d let them believe that Lucas and Lizzie’s Pop was just off traveling the world all these years, and then he’d told them the man was actually dead.

  But the truth was so much worse.

  Chapter 25

  Lucas

  “Let go of me,” Skye demanded, and Lucas hesitantly released her. She stepped away from him and folded her arms across her chest, all the while glaring at Giles, who was doing everything he could to not meet anyone's eyes.

  “What the hell is she talking about?” Matthews asked, moving to stand in front of Giles.

  “I dinnae know.”

  “Don’t you dare fucking lie,” Skye growled, stepping toward him. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit.”

  Lucas looked at her and back to Giles. “You had better start talking or I’m going to let her kick your ass.” He put his hands in his pockets and stared Giles down.

  The old man opened his mouth but immediately closed it. He narrowed his eyes on Skye and returned the anger in her gaze ten-fold. “I should have known bringing a fecking Gypsy here was a bad idea. Ye all make a damned habit out of stickin’ yer nose where it dinnae belong!”

  Lucas took a step toward him, and this time it was Skye who put a hand on his arm. “You better watch what you say. According to this Gypsy, you’ve been fucking lying to us.”

  The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife, and Lucas tried his best to shove the roaring power further down inside of him. Being in this room, loaded with ancient magic, was majorly fucking with his blood.

  “Last chance, old man,” Skye warned.

  Giles took a deep breath. “Yer Pop isnae dead.”

  Lucas gaped at him, shock and happiness warring for control. If Pop wasn’t dead, that meant there was another MacConnell in Scotland who might be able to help them. “Then where is he?”

  “He’s—” Giles started and stopped, looking troubled.

  “Finish the fucking sentence.”

  Lucas looked over at Skye. He’d never seen her as furious as she was now. Her eyes blazed with amber fire and she shook with rage. Even he was a little afraid of what she might do. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if she took off one of her stilettos and drove it straight through Giles’ eye.

  “He’s the one hunting ye.”

  “Excuse me?” Lizzie shrieked, crossing the floor in a handful of strides. “You expect us to believe that our Pop, a man who I grew up hearing wonderful stories about, is actually a crazed murderer?” She laughed. “You’re insane.”

  Lucas was less convinced. At Giles’ muttered confession, the odd buzzing he associated with the Druid’s runes and crime scene returned to his ears. Only this time, he could feel it racing along his skin. As it moved, the hair on his arms stood on end, and Lucas shook his head, trying to clear it. Is he fucking serious?

  Lucas looked to Skye for confirmation, and the way she glared at Giles told him everything he needed to know. “My grandfather is the Druid who’s been hunting us? He’s the one you sent to the Wasteland?”

  Giles nodded slowly.

  Lizzie spun toward him, throwing her hands in the air. “You can't actually believe him, Lucas! This is Pop we’re talking about!”

  “And that puddle of blood in the center of the room was Nan. Don’t tell me this doesn’t make at least a little bit of sense to you.”

  She burst into tears and fled from the room. After shooting Lucas a reproachful glance, Matthews followed.

  “I dinnae tell ye because…”

  Lucas whipped around to look at him. “No, go ahead and finish that fucking sentence, because I would just love to know why it was you kept that information from us.”

  “I dinnae want ye looking for him.”

  “And why the hell not?”

  “Because he’s not the man ye once knew.” Giles eyes misted. “We were friends once, great friends, and I helped him research his lineage.” His voice cracked. “Yer Nan, she begged me to stop, said it was changing him, but I dinnae listen. We kept on, and eventually I saw it, too. His moods changed easily,” he said, narrowing his eyes in thought. “He was short with her, and when he hit her for the first time, that’s when I truly knew.” Giles’ jaw clenched.

  “So you devised a plan to get rid of him,” Skye concluded

  Giles nodded. “Aye. Maggie and I contacted a professor back in the States who Oliver studied with. He told us of a Gypsy woman who might be able to help us. Once we finally got in contact with her, she gave us a way to transport him to the Wasteland.”

  “Your grandmother’s life,” Skye informed him.

  Lucas bit back a flash of anger. He clenched his fists at his sides. “My grandmother killed herself to send him away? Why the hell didn’t you just kill him?”

  “We couldnae, Lucas, yer Pop is dangerously powerful. It wasnae ‘til I met ye that I even believed someone could be a match for his power.”

  “Why get rid of him at all? Why would my grandmother trade her life for his?”

  “To protect you,” Skye interjected.

  “He was coming for yer dad and ye. Ye were the only ones standing in his way of ultimate power.”

  Lucas’ heart hammered in his chest, and his newfound power thundered through his veins. He was related to a fucking psychopath, one who he apparently inherited his power from. What in the hell did that make him?

  “I can’t deal with this right now.” Lucas started to leave, then rounded on Giles and slammed his fist into the wall beside his head.

  The old man winced, shrinking in on himself.

  Pain shot through his hand and up his arm, but Lucas ignored it. This man had fucking lied to him. Multiple times. “You ever lie to me again and I’ll kill you,” he growled, then he st
epped out of the room, leaving the blood stains and horror behind him.

  “Lucas!” Skye called, but he kept moving until he reached his bedroom. She raced after him, closing the door behind her.

  “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” he roared.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m fucking related to him, Skye. Doesn’t that disgust you?”

  She straightened, her eyes widening as if he’d just slapped her, but he couldn’t stop himself. Why wouldn’t she be disgusted? He certainly was. He was related to the bastard who was gunning for them, who wanted to possess Skye like she was his own personal toy. This man, this monster, his very own grandfather, had demolished Lizzie’s diner and nearly destroyed her in the process.

  “You aren’t him, Lucas.”

  “Really?” He whirled on her, and she took a step back. He scoffed. “Certainly seems like I’m not a threat.” He shook his head and walked to the window to look out at the grassy landscape.

  “Lucas.” Skye’s voice was soft, a caress against his fraying nerves. When her hand touched his arm, his strength snapped and he turned into her.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he rested his chin on her head. He couldn’t keep the tears from streaking down his cheeks.

  “You aren’t him,” she said again, tilting her head up to look at him. “You’re one of the most wonderful men I know. Hell, scratch that, you are the most wonderful man I know. You’re kind, loyal, loving, and dedicated. Just because you share blood with someone doesn’t make you like them. Family is more than that, Lucas, and you’re my family.”

  Lucas swallowed hard and leaned down to press his lips to Skye’s. She yielded beneath him, molding to his body perfectly as he deepened the kiss. “Thank you, Skye,” he whispered against her lips, then pulled her against him as he stared outside.

  Learning his grandmother had died so horribly, on top of learning that his grandfather—a man who he’d always looked up to even though he hadn't known him well—was the Druid who’d made their lives a living nightmare was taking its toll on him.

  But that wasn’t what bothered him the most.

  He was terrified because he could already feel the changes happening to him now that he had all of this power surging through his body. It called to him, a moth to the flame, singing a song that only he could hear.

  There was something inside of him now, a monster that slithered just beneath the surface of his skin. What if, one day, he would no longer be able to distinguish the difference between them?

  Chapter 26

  Skye

  Seven-year-old Skye sat at her Gran’s dining room table, coloring in her Lisa Frank coloring book. Splashes of red, orange, gold, and yellow made up the baby cheetah she worked on, and she was proud of the way it was coming together.

  In the kitchen, Gran mixed a pot of soup that would be their dinner. Skye hated minestrone soup, but her Gran worked so hard to make it that she didn’t have the heart to tell her otherwise.

  She turned and smiled at Skye, then walked to the side of the table. “Your kitty is looking gorgeous, Skye.”

  “Thanks, Gran! I was thinking we could put it up on the fridge when I’m done.”

  Gran kissed the top of her head. “I think that’s a fine plan.”

  The phone rang, and she stepped away to answer it. The mood in the room shifted so suddenly that it sent goosebumps flaring on Skye’s skin.

  “What do you mean?” Gran’s voice was hushed, but Skye heard the panic in it. She closed her coloring book and focused all her attention onto her Gran. “I gave you the spell, Giles, there should be no misinterpretation. I cannot fly out. Even if it weren’t dangerous, I have my granddaughter to look after, and there’s no way I’ll take her.”

  Her Gran glanced over her shoulder and saw Skye watching. She gave her a smile before turning back around and continuing her whispered conversation.

  “I’ve already told you no; there’s nothing else I can do.” She ended the call and refocused on Skye. “All finished, darling?”

  Skye studied the woman who’d been like a second mother to her, even before her own had passed. Tears stung her eyes at the reminder, and she tried to push it down. Gran hated when she cried. Not because she didn’t try to make her feel better, but because her philosophy had always been there was no point in crying about the past when you’ve got a future to worry about.

  “You all right, Gran?” Skye asked.

  “Oh, dear, don’t you worry about that call one bit. I had to help someone with a problem.”

  “Are they okay?”

  She nodded. “Why don’t you go along outside until dinner’s ready.”

  “Yes, Gran.” Skye pushed away from the table and rushed into the hall. Before stepping outside, she turned and looked back into the kitchen. Gran leaned against the counter, her eyes shut tightly. Her mouth moved in a whisper that Skye couldn’t quite make out.

  Young Skye shrugged and headed outside to play, problem forgotten.

  The bright light of morning streamed in through the windows when Skye opened her eyes. She stretched leisurely and yawned. Lucas had already gotten up, so Skye took her time getting out of bed, splashing water on her face, and putting on clothes.

  The scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted her the moment she left Lucas' room, and Skye followed it into the kitchen where Lizzie and James sat. Lizzie’s eyes were swollen and red, as if she’d spent most of last night and this morning crying. Given the bags under his eyes, it was obvious James had stayed up with her. Both looked worse for the wear, and she certainly couldn’t blame them. Hell, what she’d Seen when her fingers came into contact with the blood haunted her, and the memory wasn’t even about her relatives.

  Witnessing the aftermath of that kind of carnage, when it belongs to a beloved family member, must be fucking impossible to process.

  “Morning.” Skye poured a cup of coffee. “You doing okay?” she asked Lizzie as she took a seat beside her.

  Lizzie shrugged. “I don’t know what to think anymore. Apparently, my Pop is trying to murder me, and my Nan killed herself.” Her bottom lip quivered, and James wrapped an arm around her shoulders, offering his silent comfort. “If that wasn’t enough, my ultra-magical brother’s walking around like our entire world isn’t tearing apart.”

  “Speaking of…where is Lucas?” Skye asked, casting a glance around the kitchen as if she’d somehow missed spotting him.

  James nodded toward the hall. “In the study.”

  Skye’s brows lowered as she frowned. “What the hell is he doing in there?” She shuddered. That was the last place she wanted to spend any amount of time.

  “He and Giles got an early start combing through the books, or what was left of them, anyway.”

  She uttered a soft, “Oh.” That much, at least, made sense. Returning her attention to the grief-stricken woman sitting beside her, Skye gripped Lizzie’s hand. “Everything will be fine, Lizzie. Your Pop is not the same man you grew up hearing about. The power changed him. You can’t think about it being him in there, okay? He wouldn’t hurt you.”

  The words tasted like ash in her mouth. She hated that she was lying, but it was all she could think to do to remove some of the shadows from those sad blue eyes. The truth was, their grandfather wouldn’t have turned if he hadn’t wanted to. If he hadn’t craved the power above everything else. He was the same man he’d always been, his years in the Wasteland wouldn’t have changed that. If anything, it would have only intensified his most primal desires.

  Lucas had all the same power at his disposal, and he wasn’t anywhere near as power hungry. It was a testament to the kind of man he was. Loving. Kind. Protective.

  Power, in and of itself, was neither good nor bad. It was up to the wielder to determine how they’d use it. At least, she hoped that was true. Lucas had only inherited his full power just over twenty-four hours ago. There was no telling what the long-term side effects would be.

  “
Thanks, Skye,” Lizzie said softly, but Skye could tell her words had done little to ease the pain. The other woman was still hunched over her coffee, her eyes downcast.

  It was obvious she was going to be of little use in here. Skye pushed to her feet. “I’m going to go check on them. Let me know if you need to talk, okay?”

  Lizzie nodded, not looking up from the steaming cup in front of her. James gave her a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes and mouthed, “Thanks.”

  Skye fixed a cup of coffee for Lucas before heading down the hall toward the lingering death that waited for her. She stopped just outside the door. Lucas sat behind the now upright desk, flipping through a small hardback book. From the outside, he looked completely the same, and yet… he wasn’t the same at all. The newfound strength rolled off him in waves, and she couldn’t help but be simultaneously fascinated and terrified by it.

  Sensing her lurking in the hallway, his bright blue eyes looked up at her and he smiled. “Hey, gorgeous.”

  “Hey, yourself, Detective.” She forced herself to focus only on him as she crossed the threshold. They’d covered the blood stains with a quilt, but she knew they were there, and every time she thought of it, the image of Lucas' Nan bleeding to death popped into her head. She held out the bright purple coffee mug with a giant unicorn on it. “I brought you coffee.”

  He stood and walked to the other side of the desk to take the mug from her. “Couldn’t find anything manlier than a unicorn, huh?”

  Skye’s lips quirked up. “I bet William Wallace would take offense to that.”

  Lucas froze, his eyebrows jumping up. “Why would Mel Gibson give two shits what I think about a unicorn?”

  “It’s the Scottish national animal,” she informed him, amber eyes sparkling with amusement.

  Lucas rolled his eyes. “Of course, it is.” He shook his head and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.