The sound of chanting filled the air, the words from some ancient Magyar dialect he couldn’t translate. Lydia kicked her feet, hanging by her arms. A thick log stuck in the ground with a metal ring along the top. Townsfolk pulled a rope through the ring, sliding Lydia up the pole. When they finally had her several feet off the ground, they stopped and tied off the rope on the metal star lawn decoration near the side of the road. Her feet must have found hold on something because she stopped kicking and stood straighter. Erik stared at her back, willing her to feel him, trying to give her comfort any way he could. Everything inside of him told him to save her, to rush in, forgetting what centuries of magick had taught him. She had to be terrified, how could she not be?
“Stop,” Iain said. “I know ya want to comfort her, but if you’re not careful with your feelings they’ll detect us.”
Erik withdrew his attempt to connect, hating that Iain was right.
“I love her?” Iain sounded surprised.
Erik blinked. Hissing, he demanded, “What?”
Lydia was his. Erik wasn’t sharing her with Iain.
“Ya said, ‘I love her’,” Iain corrected. “Put your magick down and try to concentrate. No need to zap me. I think your lady friend is hot. I’m not going to ask her to have my babies.”
Erik pointed a finger of warning at the man, but let the matter drop. “There, around the top of the fire. Do ya see it? A shadow.”
“The lidérc.” Iain nodded. “It’s here.”
Logs were carried from a stack on the side of the house to be thrown into the blazing fire, the possessed marching like ants in a circular pattern to do the task. Myth mistook the lidérc for humans or animals, but they were much harder to capture than that. They were incubi who possessed living things as they fed on them, making them do things like have promiscuous sex and race cars—anything that got the blood pumping with excitement and fear. When they were done, a person would be left comatose or crazy, or if they were lucky, dead. The lidérc were drawn to life just like they were drawn to the heat of the flames.
“We can’t wait any longer,” Erik insisted.
“Ya heard Da. We wait for them. We cannot fight the lidérc without the right magick. Lydia is alive. Take comfort in that.”
“What are those people looking at on the far side of the fire?” Erik didn’t like waiting. He wanted to charge in, foolish as it would be, and take Lydia off the pole.
“Ya rush in and they’ll simply start the process early,” Iain insisted. “Ya shouldn’t even be here. Your connection to Lydia is the whole reason this is happening. You’re too involved.”
Erik gave a low growl and ignored his brother’s warning. It was his life and his magick they tried to steal through Lydia and that made this his decision. Already he could feel the tickling pull of the chanting as they called him to her. Lucky for him, they didn’t seem to realize the brothers were already there. Insistent, he again asked, “What are they looking at?”
“Someone’s on the ground.” Iain narrowed his eyes and focused his vision. His pupils morphed, becoming large enough to take over his entire eye until there was no iris left. With the ability to metamorphosis into various birds of prey, his vision was superb. “Charlotte. She’s not moving.”
“Dead?” Erik stared at Lydia. She screamed as one of the shadows came near her body. Her legs kicked out as she lost her footing and she swung around by her arms. He desperately wanted to go to her, to save her and Charlotte. But his power would do him no good and that left him as helpless as a mortal man against very magickal beings.
“I can’t tell.” Iain focused harder. “I’m trying to find a pulse.”
Suddenly, Iain exhaled, holding his chest. His eyes widened and his pupils shone with an inner light as they locked into their distorted shape. The chanting became louder. The possessed stopped what they were doing and turned to where the brothers hid. Slowly they came to form a line along the far side of the road.
Iain made a weak noise, gasping for breath. Gentle streams of light began to pull from his eyes and mouth toward the fire. Erik slashed his hand through the light to break the connection but it did little good. He felt Iain’s magick move against his fingers. Erik hefted his brother up and over his shoulder only to crumble to his knees the moment he stood.
Erik’s eyes turned to Lydia. Iain’s light passed by her and moved to Charlotte on the ground. Erik coughed. His chest tightened. He felt Lydia inside him seconds before she ripped his magick from him. Automatically, he clutched his throat, trying to stop the life from draining out. Iain slumped onto the ground. The townsfolk crossed the road now that the warlocks were immobilized. Erik felt their hands but was petrified, unable to fight. Or fight them.
…
“Take his power,” flaxen ringlet girl encouraged.
“Yes, take him.” Tom came to stand beside the younger child.
Lydia tried to resist as Erik’s power entered her. She saw his magick in the light that surrounded her. She smelled him, felt him, tasted him. Never had they been so close, or so far apart. In that moment, she understood him on a deep instinctual level. He had so much power, bound himself so tight to keep it at bay. She felt the sting of years, centuries of living, the heartache of losing mortal friends until he and his family buried themselves in their clan.
Yet there was more. As one of the shadows flew next to her head in excitement, she knew what they wanted as well. They used her to take Erik’s power so that they may again take human form. They were not content to merely control humans, in fact they seemed to hate playing the puppeteers. They wanted life and had been hiding in the forest essentially sulking as they waited for it to come to them. Their eagerness shone in ringlet girl’s eyes, radiated in Tom’s heavy breathing, resonated in the chanting of the possessed townsfolk.
Lydia’s skin itched as if it might explode. She was not built to contain so much energy. Her blood became hot. Sweat dripped into her eyes.
Charlotte’s screams erupted over the distance. They didn’t bind Charlotte, not like they did Lydia, because the drink they gave her would keep her immobilized on the ground. Charlotte would take whoever’s power came near her first—a forced inthrall. But Lydia was different. Her connection to Erik made her special. The shadow could barely contain its impatience.
The tight ropes around her wrists kept her hands over her head as she was suspended on the thick wood pole like a beacon to lure Erik in. A peg at her feet helped to brace her weight but she had to stay balanced or risk dangling freely.
Joe and Sheriff Johnson dumped Erik at her feet. His eyes looked up at her but he didn’t move. The shadow became more frantic, trying to syphon the magick from her before the process was finished. Lydia looked from Erik to where she could just see Charlotte’s head. They’d placed Iain on the ground next to her friend. The other black shadow hovered close to them to take Iain’s power.
Lydia didn’t have living family or a lot of close friends. She had Charlotte and Erik, and these shadows were trying to kill them both. The shadow pulled from her as it forced her to take from Erik. His powers passed through her, and she cried out at the pain. Every inch of her body burned, inside and out, her nerves raw, her bones aching, her skin itching, her eyes watering. She was dying, a slow and painful end.
Eyes formed in the shadow before her, and she swore she saw the ghost of a smile. The dark mass took human shape. The impression of arms lifted toward her. The shadow’s frozen touch contrasted the heat of her skin. Lydia gasped and jerked. The shock of cold brought her back to her senses. If the thing was going to kill her, she would take it with her. Not knowing what she was doing, she willed Erik’s magick back into her body, trying to reverse the process. The shadow thrashed. It placed its hands on her shoulders and brought the single mass of what would have been feet to her stomach and pushed as if Lydia’s actions trapped it to her. Beneath her ringlet girl and Tom began screeching, an unearthly sound.
The second shadow shot up to help its fri
end, abandoning Charlotte. The townsfolk closest to it growled in anger and rushed the pole she was on. Hands gripped her legs, rocking the post. She felt herself taking life from the surrounding trees and plants. The more magick she took inside her the harder it became to contain until finally it burst out over the yard.
The shadow convulsed violently, the darkness lightening from within until it burst into ashes. Half of those gathered fell to the ground. The second shadow’s minions rocked her harder. She felt fingers digging into her skin as if to rip her apart. They loosened the pole knocking her head against the wood several times. She tried to pull at the last shadow creature as she had the first, but she was too weak. The shadow carried Iain’s powers, not Erik’s, and she couldn’t connect with it. Warmth trickled out of her nose and she tasted blood on her lips.
“Try not to kill the humans,” Angus ordered, his voice sounding far away. She blinked heavily trying to find him. “There! Niall, Euann, immobilize it.”
Lydia detected a tartan rushing past her before a bright strobe light flashed. She closed her eyes against the painful pulse of light. Screaming sounded from the conscious townsfolk. Lydia’s body swayed as they stopped rocking her. She fell off the peg and hung limp against the wobbling post.
Chaos erupted. She heard the slaps of flesh, the call of commands, the screeching of the shadow through his minions. When she again opened her eyes she found Niall lifted off the ground surrounded by light. Euann stood beneath him holding a small strobe pointed at the shadow. The box looked like something from a hippy’s drug den—hardly an impressive magickal tool. Yet, it seemed to be working.
Rory was on the ground next to Iain and Charlotte, shielding them with his body as the battle raged above him. Tom hit at his back. The boy was one of the last people standing. Mrs. Callister stumbled around the yard in a haphazard circle as if confused.
Unlike when Lydia killed the first shadow, the second one did not turn to ash. Instead, it began pulsing with the light. Niall remained before it in the air. His stiff body acted like some kind of blockade to keep the shadow from escaping. With a tiny burst it was over. The shadow succumbed to the light, disappearing as if it had never been. Niall dropped to his knees and didn’t move from the ground.
Suddenly, Mrs. Callister and Tom both dropped like dead weight. Tom slumped over Rory’s back. The warlock pushed him off.
“Cut her down,” Angus said. Seconds later she was falling forward, unable to catch herself. She dropped into a pair of arms. “That’s it, lass, easy now.” Angus laid her next to his son. “You’re safe. I’ll be back for ya once we clean up this mess.”
Erik didn’t move. His eyes were fixed open, staring at the pole where she’d been. She tried to speak, but nothing came out. Taking the last bit of her strength, she flopped her hand onto Erik’s chest over his heart. It beat beneath her fingers.
“We can’t do anything about the dead grass and trees so killing a few more to get the job done won’t matter. It’ll just have to be a mystery.” Angus’s voice was far away. “Boys, set up the picnic tables and put the casserole out.”
Lydia heard the rush of feet and saw flashes of light behind her closed lids. Casserole? Her throat gurgled and she passed out.
Chapter Fifteen
Lydia felt a tickle along the nape of her neck. Her limbs were numb with the residual effects of deep sleep, but she was warm and safe…and really hungry. Her muscles stiffened and trembled as she gave a small stretch. The tickling traveled down to where her neck met her shoulder.
A low moan sounded, and she realized Erik lay beside her on the bed lightly kissing her. “A stóirín, ya are a handful of trouble, but I kind of like it.”
Her eyes opened, but she had no desire to run away from him. She felt safe—safer than she had in days. It was clear the instant she saw the room that she was in the MacGregor mansion. The style of the dark wood and a portrait of Erik in full MacGregor plaid surrounded by the Scottish countryside was a dead giveaway. Feeling the wandering hands moving along her waist under the covers, she could well guess this was Erik’s bedroom.
She smiled at the portrait. He did look pretty sexy with long hair, like some sort of romance novel hero. “I’m the handful? My life was tame before you MacGregors moved in next door.”
“We do what we can, lass.” He kissed her shoulder, the lips pressing harder this time. Erik’s body shifted, and she felt the full press of his arousal against her hip. “Had I known all I had to do was save ya from mortal danger to get ya into bed I would have found trouble sooner.”
His hand found the flesh of her waist and slipped around to her stomach. When she reached her arm out from beneath the covers she noticed she wore black silk pajamas. They weren’t hers. “Am I still hallucinating?”
“Hallucinating?” Erik’s kisses stopped. “What do ya mean, love?”
“I could have sworn I heard your dad planning a picnic before I passed out.” She gave a small laugh. “Something about setting up tables and putting out casseroles.”
His hips rocked against her gently. “That he would have. The townsfolk would need a reasonable explanation for a bunch of strange memories and the Sheriff’s ruined lawn. They’ll think someone used bad mushrooms in a potluck casserole, and they all were drugged out of their minds. The doctor will explain the rest of it away as temporary amnesia due to hallucinogens.”
“I don’t even want to know why you had illegal ’shrooms around.” Lydia gave a small yawn. The feel of his hands made her forget all about being hungry. “Or an old strobe light.”
“Niall had them. Hallucinogenic drugs leave people open to influence. The hippies had it right—black lights and strobes keep the lidérc away and out of their compromised brains.”
Her smile fell and she turned in his arms to study his face. “What about Charlotte?”
“Safe,” he assured her. Erik propped up on his elbow. The covers fell along his waist and his chest was bare. “Everyone is safe.”
“What were those things? Are they coming back? Are there more of them? Why did they want to kill…?” She paused. “No, I know the answer to that last one. They needed me to take your powers from you so they could become human form again to wreak more havoc. There was so much hatred and anger in them. Right now they’re confined to the shadows, but if they became full bodied monsters I can’t imagine what they’d do.”
“The Hungarians call them lidérc. Others know them as a kind of incubi or succubi. Ya killed one, and Niall banished the other for the next hundred years or so. It will not be coming back for a very long time.”
“Succubus?” Lydia frowned. “Like vampires?”
“Not the blood suckers. More like psychic vampires and possessor demons. They find weaknesses in people’s psyche and crawl inside the shadows of the mind to control them. We warlock have a natural immunity to them. The only way they can get our magick is through an inthrall. You’re my natural inthrall so ya were used to try and take my powers.” He touched the tip of her nose. His eyes flashed and instantly her skin began to tingle where he touched her, more so than normal. “I can see some of my energy is still inside you.”
Her breathing deepened. Lydia’s hand strayed to his waist. “And Charlotte is Iain’s inthrall?”
“Not naturally, no. She had been exposed to Iain’s magick when they petrified her, and then she was given something to make her a portal in which to take a warlock’s powers. Iain was trying to see if she was harmed when her spell and his magick connected.” Erik’s expression fell a little. “It was a very rare collection of events. The lidérc must have been watching us very closely. Setting up magickal security takes time, which is why we always send a group in advance to a location before the clan moves to the area. Apparently, our normal protocols weren’t enough to keep the evil out.”
“Oh, no, Iain?”
“He’s in a coma. My mother worked an enchantment spell to preserve him. Ya were able to reverse the process between us a little and give my stren
gth back. Charlotte and Iain do not have our connection. It’s not her fault. She didn’t know what to do. The process nearly killed them both. Charlotte rests, which is the best thing for her. We’re trying to pull some of the magick out of her. We need to decide what to do with her before she wakes up.” Erik’s hands resumed their exploration. His finger slid down her nose to her lips. Everywhere he touched erupted with tiny explosions of pleasure. “But nothing needs to be decided at this moment, except for one thing.”
“Which is?” she whispered. The heat of his body drew her closer to him. The magick in his fingers worked their spell over her. She felt his powers lingering inside her. She knew if she wanted she could drain him of his magick, his life. One touch is all it would take, the simple will of her to do so. The fact made her much more powerful than the warlock next to her on the bed.
“Are ya going to stop playing hard to get and let me catch ya already, Lydia? Because ya have more than captured me, my love.”
Her heart quickened. “Please tell me your sister didn’t cast another misguided spell.”
“No, love, those words are all mine.”
“You may be a powerful warlock, but you’re a silly man.” Lydia pressed her lips up to meet his. She kissed him softly. “You caught me that first day we met.”
Erik moaned cupping her cheek to hold her face to his. He instantly deepened the kiss, letting her feel by the subtle movements of his body just how much he wanted her. “Ya might have let a man know it, lass.” A deep laugh rumbled in his chest.
“I sent you erotic dreams. I saved your life. I tamed you when you shifted into a beast.” She touched his cheek, pulling at his magick only to release it back into him. The feelings it awoke were very seductive. “I’m allowing you to live at this very moment. So, what were you waiting for, a gilded invitation to spell it all out for you?”
Love Potions Page 18