Laird wanted to do it the right way.
Her hand covered her mouth.
“Will you marry me, a grá?” he asked. “Make me the happiest man in the world.”
The woman behind the counter watched it all, taking it all in. Laird knew that gossip would be out of control, but he didn’t care. He wanted his wife.
And he wanted the whole town to know she was off limits. His beautiful American was his, and no one else’s.
“Oh, Laird!” she said, staring down at the ring and man on his knee. “I’ll marry you!”
He slipped the ring onto her finger, and it sparkled in the store lights. “We’d better hurry. I wouldn’t want anyone to swoop you up while I’m dillydallying.”
The woman handed him the receipt and a pen.
He signed and grabbed the bag with her other clothes. She’d need them when she got to Graymoor.
They crossed the street, stuffed Molly in his vehicle, and told her to stay. Hopefully, she’d listen.
The woman in the shop picked up her phone and made a call.
“Yeah, I know you were sleeping, but you have got to hear this. That man you lust for, the detective? He’s getting married. If you want to stop it, you’d better get your arse moving,” she said.
The woman screeched some profanities into the phone, and then hung up.
It was the end of the world.
Laird Maguire was getting married, and to an American.
What was next?
Chapter Sixteen
T he heart was the vessel of the soul, and it contained the essence of the person. That’s what made it the most important organ of the body—and the most delicious. When you took someone’s heart, it was poetic.
The heart mattered, and this one would help the cause.
In an age where old traditions were forgotten, and people were letting their heritage go, he was trying to save them.
Ireland was powerful once, filled with magick, strength, and fortitude.
That needed to be brought back.
As his ancestors had done.
When Sir Lawrence Keane walked the earth, he knew how to harness that power. It was a story passed down from generation to generation.
From the power found in the dirt beneath their feet, to the energy in their bodies, he would find a way to finish what his ancestors had started.
Those who didn’t agree, well, they could die.
He was good with that.
Every year, there had been a sacrifice, and every year, he’d not done enough.
Well, this year, he was making sure to bring his game. They would reignite the darkness with old spells, old traditions, and the things that had made them great.
In the basement, the heart sat on a ceramic plate.
It had been cooked, cut, and offered up as a gift to Carman. She would bless him, despite what Laird Maguire tried to do.
This was beyond his control, his reach, and his abilities. This was old magick, century old death, and about family.
You couldn’t fight who you were.
So why bother?
Tonight, there would be another.
And then another.
The full moon was coming, and on that night, there would be the final offering.
The fire haired beauty who came from across the sea. Once she was bound and taken, the spell would be complete.
She was coming back.
Incarnated in the woman.
And she would be their queen.
* * * O R A C L E * * *
He wasn’t the least bit nervous.
Not at all.
He was about to marry the woman he was destined to be with, and that was cathartic. As she stood there, wearing his ring, and a white dress, she looked beautiful.
He knew what grew in her body, tiny cells dividing to make their child. Laird wasn’t scared for her, but he was worried for himself.
He didn’t want to die and lose her.
He hoped that Oracle could pull off a miracle. She wouldn’t die, and that should be enough, but he wanted to spend the next forty years with her.
“Mr. Maguire, you’re up,” the registrar’s assistant said, opening the door for them.
Laird held out his hand. “Ready, Brianna?” he asked.
She smiled at him, beaming. “Yes, I do believe I am ready to get married.”
He was glad she didn’t have any nerves, much like him. That meant they were definitely doing the right thing. This felt monumental.
Inside, the registrar was sitting behind a desk. “If you’ll just sign here, and here,” he said, taking their paperwork.
She couldn’t wait.
Laird looked so handsome in his suit. She couldn’t believe she was going to do this.
‘I believe it,’ he whispered into her mind.
‘I’m so happy,’ she offered.
That was what he wanted.
‘Are you?’
He stared into her eyes. ‘I have never been more captivated, happy, or in love than I am in this moment. I found my other half.’
The man held out his hand for the rings.
“Shall we?” he asked.
“Yes,” they said together.
He went through all the required information, making sure no one was doing this under duress. Then he allowed them to speak for themselves.
Brianna went first.
“I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Laird. You have swept me off my feet, made me believe in the fairytale, and have offered me that solace in your embrace. Before you, I was content, but with you, I’m exuberant. I’m marrying the most amazing man in the world.”
He smiled at her, and the dimple in his cheek captivated her.
“You’ll be my husband until our dying days, and we’ll have a family that will make your mother proud.”
She saw in his mind how his mother always wanted grandchildren.
“She’d love that, Brianna, my love.”
“I choose to marry you, Laird. I choose to be your wife, and I know it will be the best thing I’ve ever done in my life because it was meant to be.”
The registrar handed her a ring. “Go ahead, lass, put your ring on his finger.”
She held it in her hand.
It was so big, and it symbolized something so much more. “With this ring, I make you mine.”
His heart skipped.
That’s all he really wanted. He wanted to belong, know that he’d always have love, and her.
It was perfect.
“Your turn, Mr. Maguire.”
Laird touched her cheek with his palm, and loved how she leaned her face into it, relying on him.
“When I first saw you, I knew. My heart told me that you had to be the one. I’ve never loved like this before. Before you, Brianna, my love, there was only infatuation. With you, I’ve found something so deep, perfect, and lovely, that I’ll fight forever to keep it. I have happiness. For the first time in my life, I have seen the meaning, and it’s family. My family. I promise to love you, protect you, and always be here when you need me. You’re my wife, Brianna, and to me, that’s everything.”
He wiped a tear that had crested on her lashes.
“You, my sweet American flower, are my everything.”
The registrar handed him her petite little ring, and he slid it onto her finger beside the canary diamond.
They looked perfect together.
They were perfect.
Just like them.
“Well, son, you sign here, and it’s done,” the man said.
Laird had one thing left to do. He pulled his bride into his arms, and he kissed her.
As she was pressed to his body, there was that peace.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Maguire,” he said, signing the last paper. “You’re officially married.”
He beamed.
She hugged him.
This was the happiest day of their lives, and they could feel it in their souls.
“I can’t
wait until tonight,” he whispered in her ear.
She blushed, seeing what was in his mind. “Count me in,” she stated.
He laughed as he grabbed their paperwork and took her by her hand. Heading out of the registrar’s office, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Laird was a married man.
It was going to be a good day.
That was until he saw the woman storming toward him.
“Brianna,” he said, trying to push her behind him so she’d be safe.
“What the bloody hell is this arsery?” Jenny hissed, pointing at the woman. “What did she do, Laird? Did she lie and tell you she’s with child to trick you into marrying her? I should have kicked her arse yesterday but good!”
Jenny moved toward Brianna.
“Back off,” he ordered. “You’re not going to touch my wife.”
“You led me on!” Jenny shouted.
People were staring.
“No, I did no such thing. Me being nice to you is not a declaration of love, Jenny. You’re a sweet girl, but you’re not the type of woman I’d marry.”
She slapped him hard.
A crowd was forming.
“You should go, Jenny. You just hit a Garda. You’re going to end up in jail.”
“I’ll be going after I whip her American arse around the square,” she said, moving toward her.
Brianna had enough.
“Laird, let me,” she said, moving around him.
“Oh, yes, come at me you trollop!”
“I have news for you, Jenny. He’s my husband, and you will NOT put your hands on, or near him ever again—let alone any other part of your skanky, gutter whore body!”
The crowd gasped.
“Or?” she asked.
She looked back at her husband.
She was done being afraid.
“Or this,” she said, and she punched the woman so hard, Jenny hit the ground. Then she was on her, pummeling her with her fists. They rolled around, and Laird barely had enough strength to pull them apart.
Well, this was a wedding day he’d never forget. His wife, Brianna, the self-proclaimed chicken wasn’t one at all. She had a wicked right hook, and knew how to use it.
“If you bring your slutty ass near my man, I’m going to show you the difference between Irish and American. The difference is I’ll be fighting for MY HUSBAND and you’re fighting a little girl dream. Go back to your pub, sling your beer, and NEVER come near him again, or I’ll rip your black hair out of your head and make a fucking sweater out of it!”
Jenny got up, holding her nose.
She was crying.
Brianna dusted herself off, making sure her pretty dress was not wrecked.
When she looked over at her husband, he was laughing. She was glad he wasn’t mad.
“And you said you never curse. You just dropped the big one,” he teased.
“And it felt good. Besides, I will only take so much, and hitting you was not something that is EVER going to happen. She’s a spoiled little brat, and I’ll hurt her if she does that again.”
The people were whispering.
“What?” she said. “Yeah, I’m an American, and a just whipped her ass. Keep it in mind or I’m bringing my friends to the ass kicking party!”
They all moved away, and Laird couldn’t be more entertained than he was at that moment.
“I thought you were afraid of her hurting you?”
“She hit you. That’s not right, and I know you’re a gentleman and would never hit her back. So, I had to defend my man.”
“A grá, you are a delicate flower,” he said, dropping his arm around her waist to escort her to his car.
“I’ve been called worse.”
He helped her into the vehicle, and laughed the entire time. Once he got in, she grabbed him by the tie and kissed him softly on the mouth.
“Mmmm, that’s nice,” he said.
She whispered into his mind what their wedding night was going to be like.
“Aye and begorrah! Who is this hellion I’ve saddled myself to for the rest of our lives?”
She patted him on the cheek.
“Your wife.”
His heart skipped at the word.
“Yes, and I’m so very lucky,” he stated. “I have one hell of a woman and wife.”
Yes, he did, but she was the real winner.
Her husband was a good, decent man.
And she’d fight anyone for him.
Anyone.
* * * O R A C L E * * *
Graymoor
Wednesday
Nine A.M.
They were already hard at work, trying to find anything out about Lawrence Keane.
He seemed to be the center of this, both with the dead on the property, and the killer stalking Adare.
“No word on a body?” Bishop asked, flipping through pages of a book Maura had ‘borrowed’ from the library.
“Nothing yet,” Nate offered.
“We need something. We’re not getting any closer.”
Maura was staring at the wall, thinking about the case. She had yet to say anything.
Jagger was worried. “Maura, can you help me with something?” he asked.
“What?”
“I need your help. It’s protection details. Can we head into Lucian’s office and talk?”
“Sure,” she said, following him out.
Once in the office, he closed the door.
“Spill it.”
“Spill what?”
“You’re a mess. You can’t leave here today if your head isn’t in the game. We can’t risk it.”
“You’re trying to tell me what to do? Really, Jagger? You’re not my boss. Last I looked, I have more stripes on my military badge than you do, Captain.”
She tried to get around him, and he grabbed her arm. She spun, twisted his, and flipped him onto his back.
Then she realized what she’d done.
“I’m sorry,” she said, staring down at him.
While he could get upset, this just proved his point. He flipped back over, onto his feet, and got up.
“You’re scared, aren’t you?” he asked, moving closer.
Maura nodded, tears filling her eyes. No matter how many times she told Luke she was fine, she wasn’t. It was like she couldn’t shake this horrible fear. “I’m beyond scared. I’m freaked out,” she whispered.
Jagger held her. “Talk it out. We’ll get it out, and you’ll be okay. I have you.”
She took a deep breath.
Where to start?
“I never believed in any of this bullshit, and now I’ve had to watch my husband rape me, stab me, and…”
She could say anything else.
Jagger’s heart broke for his friend. Maura was always important to him, and now he wanted to heal her. “It’s okay to be upset about it.”
“How do I fight something I can’t see, Jagger? How do we do that? We’re Marines. We fight tangible enemies. Give me a hatchet wielding nut bag, and I’m fine. A spirit playing body jump with my husband…”
He didn’t know.
“I had to hurt Luke. He hurt me. I feel like something evil has crawled into us, and it’s trying to make us hate.”
Maybe Maura was more astute than she realized.
“I can’t map my emotions. They’re all over the place.”
When she took a deep breath, he stared into her eyes.
“What happened was bad. It was bone chilling, and it was wrong, but how you react to it is going to make all the difference. Luke has to be hurting too.”
She was sure he was.
“Maybe he needs you just as much as you need him. I watched you out there. Normally, you’re attached at the hip. There was three feet between you both. He’s pulling away, and so are you. If you do that, this evil has won.”
He was right.
“I need to ask you something.”
“Ask.”
“Is it wrong that I’m angry at him for n
ot protecting me? I was at my most vulnerable. He was in there. I feel…”
“Like he let you down?”
She nodded. “I know here,” she said, pointing at her head, “that he wasn’t in control, but here,” she offered, pointing at her heart, “I needed him to save us. It’s exhausting to be badass all day long.”
He got it.
They were on duty nonstop and around the clock. Jagger and Maura were responsible for everyone’s safety, but in that moment of intimacy, she’d been violated by something—someone—else.
“I don’t hate him, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid it’ll be back, and next time, I’ll hurt him worse.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “You get to be upset, Maura. He physically assaulted you while being driven by our not so friendly spirit. You’re entitled to feel. I think Luke would rather you be honest than hide what you’re both thinking.”
He was right.
She took a deep breath. “Thank you, Jagger. I needed a perspective not my own. I was overthinking.”
“My advice is to talk to him later. Both of you have a strong relationship. You can get through this, if you really want to,” he offered.
She was aware.
Since no one was looking, Maura hugged Jagger again. She lingered, leaving her head on his shoulder. “I have more brothers than any girl should have, but you’re probably the most important one, Jagger. You get me. I love you.”
He grinned at her. “Wishing you were married to me right about now, huh?”
She snorted, and then punched him in the gut.
He grunted and tried to catch his breath. “Mean.”
It made her laugh.
“I’ve got your back, Maura. If you need to talk, we can map it out.”
She stared at him.
“What?”
“I said…”
“I need a map. One of the city. This killer is dropping the bodies in alleys. We need to see where, and I need to look for a pattern.”
“What if there isn’t one?”
She didn’t buy that. From what she’d learned in the military, and working with Oracle, is that most killers had one. She only needed to find it.
“I’m going with my gut.”
Oracle Haunting (The Phoenix Files Book 4) Page 29