Spellbound

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Spellbound Page 7

by Michelle M. Pillow


  “I can’t. I have an important job starting tonight. I’m landscaping for—”

  “You’re so adorable, Jane. Planting flowers can wait. We’re family. I’ll pick you up at six.” Sean left without paying.

  Jane pressed her hands flat on the table, lowered her head to stare at her dusty boots, and took a deep breath. She didn’t want to go to dinner with Sean, but how could she say no? Her father had wanted her to get along with her stepbrother. He’d tried to teach her the importance of family—even if you didn’t always like them, they were yours regardless.

  “You don’t look like a bean nighe.”

  Now what?

  Jane frowned and slowly lifted her head. Malina MacGregor made a show of giving her a long once over. Jane found herself straightening and self-consciously smoothing out her T-shirt.

  What is with today’s fashion police? she thought. Heaven forbid, I didn’t dress up for the freaking farmers market.

  Where Jane’s nails were trimmed short, and her hands had calluses from hard work, Malina appeared to be a designer-clad princess. Jane’s hair was pulled back, more of an afterthought than a fashion statement. White, almost silvery streaks through dark hair framed Malina’s face. Jane wore a little makeup, mostly out of the habit to hide any signs of being sick. Malina looked as if she employed an entire team of stylists.

  “But Aunt Cait was right. You do have an aura about you.” Even Malina’s softly accented voice was perfect. “Though I pried, she didn’t tell me much, and I had to check you out for myself.”

  Jane touched her hand. The cut had healed completely. “I didn’t have a chance to thank her.”

  Malina placed her finger on a tomato and ran the tip over the skin of the plump fruit. “How did you do it?”

  “What?” Jane furrowed her brow in confusion. She watched the woman’s finger. “I guess I just have a gift for gardens. Plants I understand.”

  Malina gave a small laugh. “You know what I mean.”

  “No,” Jane shook her head. “I really don’t. Is this about my receiving your family’s landscaping job? Iain hired me because I’m assuming he talked to people and learned I’m very good at what I do. That’s how I did it. But not to worry. When he hired me, he mentioned you all would have some input into the plans. I’m not sure what the problem is, but nothing has been finalized. We’re going to go over everything later today.”

  “You don’t know what I mean.” Malina hummed thoughtfully. She motioned to the table. “I’ll need all these.” Reaching into her small clutch, she pulled out several bills and placed them on the table. “Would you mind bringing them with you when you come tonight?”

  “Oh, ah, that will be,” Jane reached for the money and started to mentally calculate the total due.

  “Keep the change. Call it a delivery fee.” Malina smiled and pulled sunglasses off the top of her head. She winked before sliding them over her eyes.

  Jane glanced down at the bills and protested, “But this is three hundred dollars. I can’t—”

  Malina was gone. Jane leaned forward to look down the row of tables to the other booths but couldn’t see her.

  “Thank you,” Jane said, knowing the woman couldn’t hear her.

  * * *

  “What’s this, little Jane?” The bean nighe did not appreciate the new hint of magick sticking to her human like mold to aging bread. And like mold, it would have to be cut off before the rest could be consumed. “What potions have you been drinking?”

  She tried to focus her attention on the country market, but the call of a nearby cemetery kept distracting her. Old death was often the most potent. Those were the spirits that lingered the longest.

  Hunger gnawed at her insides, slowly ripping her apart. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a nice passenger train crash, confused souls just ready to be eaten and still full of fresh, delicious emotions. New ghosts were harder to find because the spirits did not call to her like old, musty death.

  Sanity was hard for the bean nighe to hold on to. Picking off her meals one by one, ghost by ghost, meant she’d only be conscious for short periods at a time before instinct took over. She had to feast upon a big tragedy to sustain any real length of sanity, but even then the hunger would find her eventually. It always found her.

  The bean nighe knew she needed to feed soon. Unable to handle the pull of the dead, she covered her ears and screeched. Her body sped through the trees, from limb to limb, moving without the direction of her consciousness. She stopped in the middle of a forgotten sunken graveyard. The weathered gravestones were hidden by weeds, except for a few stubborn markers that poked through in chipped defiance.

  An unaware ghost leaned over a divot in the earth, a tomb long forgotten as she mourned a dead loved one. The wailing of the spectral’s cries were needles to the bean nighe’s ears. With mindless purpose, the bean nighe endeavored to feed. The unsuspecting spirit didn’t even fight her fate.

  It started as a tingle in the bean nighe’s narrow lips, pulling the translucent mist of the ghost’s form. Against her will, she absorbed the lost soul, the bitter taste of ghostly pain choking down an unwilling throat. She hated this fate, this burning need to absorb death in order to live. If she denied it, her body forced her to do it. The wailing grew louder because it rang inside her head. So much pain was locked in that ghost’s residual moment. The bean nighe gagged and convulsed.

  When she again had control over her functions, she went to where the ghost had been kneeling and lifted the clothes left behind. They weren’t real clothes, but the residual leftovers the bean nighe could not consume that looked like the dead’s clothing. A new compulsion overtook her and she screeched as she moved through the forest to the little stream. There she would remain, scrubbing and washing the ghost clothing in the water until they dissipated, no matter how long it took. Cleaning up the dead was her one purpose. It was a purpose she longed to end.

  “Salach, salach,” the bean nighe whispered, the word keeping time with the scrubbing on the washboard she’d materialized. “Salach, salach, salach…”

  Chapter 10

  “I want to help,” Rory said, eyeing Jane through the window as she kneeled on the ground and dug small holes. They weren’t sure what she was doing, but her backside was pointed in their direction. He grinned at his cousins. “I am suddenly feeling the need to get dirty.”

  “Me too. Anything the lady commands,” Euann added, muscling Rory out of the way so he could get a good look at the woman’s ass. “Those stones she was talking about might be heavy. I’m sure she could use a little manpower.”

  “It will be welcome exercise,” Niall added gruffly, his way of saying he was offering his services. He didn’t move from his chair or look up from his book. “She should be watched.”

  “Watched? Ya are a strange one, brother,” Euann told Niall.

  “She’s human,” Niall said by way of a dismissive answer, “and there is something off about her. Ma does not like her, and Aunt Cait has concerns. That is enough reason for me.”

  “Ma is not right in the head,” Euann stated. “And Aunt Cait has concerns about all outsiders. Do ya remember what she did the first time she encountered a pizza delivery boy? Poor kid peed himself.”

  “To be fair, he could have been carrying Pandora’s box. No one remembers what it looks like,” Niall defended.

  “It’s a jar, not a box,” Euann said.

  Niall waved a dismissing hand and kept reading.

  “Jane smells like honey,” Rory whispered. “Have ya noticed?”

  “And I sting like a bee.” Euann’s voice dipped playfully.

  Iain growled in warning. They turned to where he was petrified into a living statue, frozen while walking through the door. It was a weak spell, but enough to force him to listen to their banter without being able to retort…or punch. Rory and Euann had hit him with it mainly out of boredom. While Iain watched, unable to react, they had been spying on Jane. He focused all his energy on trying to sh
ake off the stiffness in his limbs.

  “Should we worry? He’s starting to thaw out.” Rory chuckled, clearly not concerned.

  Just then, Iain pushed out of the spell and came flying toward them. Niall shifted his feet out of the way and kept reading, unconcerned. Rory jumped to the side. Iain’s unstable aim missed Euann’s face and instead hit his shoulder with enough force to send him sprawling.

  Euann laughed even as he tumbled to the floor. From his place on the ground, he said, “Easy, queen bee, no one is dipping in your honey pot.”

  “Unless she asks us to,” Rory corrected.

  Iain spun a little too quickly, and his vision momentarily blurred as he attempted to shake off the remnants of his family’s prank.

  “She does make a man warm and tingly to be around her,” Euann agreed, not bothering to stand back up.

  Iain glared down at him. He didn’t want anyone’s warm tinglies around his Jane.

  “She smells like nature,” Niall stated, his tone even as he walked out the back door to go to the gardens. “Most green witch types do.”

  “Hey, uh, Iain, ya might want to clean that drool off your chin before going out there. I think your mouth might still be frozen.” Euann pushed to his feet as he made his way out the door after Niall.

  “Don’t leave me alone with him,” Rory called, his way outside blocked by Iain. He held up his hands and took a step back. “Iain, don’t make me tell Aunt Margareta that ya are consorting with the reipseach again.”

  “Don’t ya call her that!” Iain lunged at his cousin. His voice sounded strange since his throat was still a little frozen.

  Rory laughed and ran through the doorway leading deeper into the house. Wiping his mouth, Iain sighed in frustration. He should have known the second Jane appeared his family would spring into mischievous action. Now that Erik and Lydia were to be married, his relatives needed something else to occupy their time. The fact Raibeart kept bemoaning his lost love, Shelly Jane, and warning Iain he’d be waiting to reclaim her should his nephew mess things up, didn’t help. The ensuing jokes had only stirred the MacGregor clan’s need to misbehave.

  His feet felt sluggish as he made a move to follow his brothers outside. The sound of Jane’s voice drifted over him, and he paused to look at her through the window. Niall stood, arms over his chest, listening to her speak with the countenance of a surly sea captain about to throw a sailor overboard. Euann distracted her by moving his arms to encompass nearby trees and bushes. When Jane turned her back on him, Euann grinned and winked audaciously toward where Iain watched. Rory suddenly appeared, having run the long way around the side of the house.

  Iain had seen enough. Slightly paralyzed or not, he wasn’t going to leave Jane alone with them any longer.

  * * *

  Jane didn’t know what to make of the sudden offers of help. Three MacGregors surrounded her. Rory merely grinned at her to the point she wondered if she had something on her face. Euann smiled and asked an extraordinary amount of questions about trees. As kind as Euann was, he couldn’t counteract the severity of Niall, who studied her like he contemplated grabbing a shotgun and running her off the property.

  “And ya will work exclusively for us until the job is finished?” Niall asked. He wore a kilt that looked as if it had seen better days. Both it and the loose white shirt were clean, but he clearly didn’t put much thought into getting dressed in the morning. It was a trait made all the more noticeable when contrasted to the more immaculate dress of his siblings and cousin.

  “Um, well, no,” Jane said. “I have other commitments in town. But I will provide you with—”

  “Ya smell pretty,” Rory said.

  “Uh, thank you,” Jane answered distractedly before turning back to Niall. “I’ll work nonstop until your job is finished. I have extra help who I hire for the bigger jobs so—”

  “No rush,” Euann insisted with a playful grin.

  “There is no need to hire help. We will assist ya,” Niall stated. He absently rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. “Tell us what ya need done.”

  Jane glanced around. Afternoon had turned to evening. “It will depend on what plan you agree on. Perhaps you should speak with Iain and decide what you want done as a family and then I can give you quotes—”

  “We’re not worried about cost,” Rory said.

  “I’m sure ya will be fair, lassie,” Euann added.

  “The sooner we start, the sooner we will finish,” Niall said.

  You mean the sooner you will be rid of me on your property, Jane thought.

  “Forgive Niall the Neanderthal.” Euann dismissed his brother’s surliness with an unconcerned wave of his hand. “He hates everyone.”

  “I do not hate—” Niall began.

  “Get off me, hell spawn!” Iain burst through the doors with his sister clinging to his back.

  Jane gasped. Niall sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. Rory and Euann simply laughed. No one went to break up the fight.

  “Get off me!” Iain spun in circles as Malina kept her arms wrapped around his head. When this didn’t dislodge her, he finally stopped and jerked back and forth to try to throw her off.

  “You can’t go out ther…” Malina’s words trailed off as her eyes met Jane’s. She smiled widely even as she was bounced. “Hi…Jane. Did you…bring my…tomatoes?”

  Jane nodded. Iain’s peeked out at her through his sister’s hold. The whole clan of them was crazy, but at least this crazy batch had clothes on.

  “Lovely,” Malina said as if her position was the most natural in the world.

  “They’re in my truck,” Jane answered belatedly.

  “Malina,” Iain insisted with a shake of his body.

  “Oh, right.” She let go and quickly backed away from her brother. “Boys, help me carry in the vegetables.” When Malina passed by Jane, she paused and said, “Sorry about his face. I tried to keep him inside.”

  Jane frowned in confusion as she was left alone with Iain.

  “I’m sorry ya had to deal with my family. I was running late,” Iain said.

  “No, it’s,” Jane turned and stiffened, “omigod.”

  Iain’s facial skin resembled something akin to a plastic doll that had been smacked on the ground a few times. He looked incapable of blinking, and she was pretty sure the right side of his mouth didn’t close all the way as if the lip had been frozen mid-speech. There was very little movement to the underlying muscles.

  “It’s, ah, it’s…” She tried to remember what she was going to say, but it didn’t readily come to her.

  Was that how all the MacGregors looked so young? They had a great surgeon who made house calls?

  “Did you have…?” Jane realized she was unconsciously touching her own temple and lowered her hand. “I mean, you’re a handsome man, Iain. I don’t think you need to inject yourself with paralytic drugs to…” She made a weak noise. “There’s no need to resort to plastic surgery.”

  He made a sound that was very much like a nervous laugh as he touched his face. “Right. Plastic surgery.”

  Jane averted her eyes down his black cashmere shirt and nicely fitted denim jeans. The curve where his hip met his waist caught her attention. Her heartbeat quickened. “I’m sorry, that sounded judgey. I didn’t mean it to. It’s your body. You can do whatever you want with it. I should stick to landscaping.” She forced her gaze to the overgrown path and lifted her arms. “As I was telling your family, it might be best to start closest to the house and work outward.”

  “So ya think I’m handsome?” Iain asked. She could tell he was trying to smile at her, but somehow the usual devil-may-care was lost in the paralytic effect. Knowing how handsome he normally was, the strangeness was a little difficult to look at—like a 1980s horror movie’s special effects gone wrong.

  Gone way wrong.

  Way, way, way wrong.

  Even so, that didn’t diminish her attraction to him. Her feelings were based on much more than appearan
ce. People didn’t look sexy and glamorous every day of their real lives. Jane should know. Most of the time, she was covered in dirt and wore old clothes.

  “I think all of you like to say things that will fluster me,” Jane answered. She tried to turn the conversation back to the job. “If we pull weeds from the stones, the paths can be cleaned up fairly easily. Where the paths dip and become too uneven, we can pull the stones and re-lay them.”

  A hand brushed the back of her arm. Iain whispered, “You’re talking fast. Do we make ya nervous, Jane?”

  “No.” Jane shook her head. It wasn’t a complete lie. Euann and Rory were harmless man-boys. Niall frightened her. The elders were mostly a bunch of naked mischief-makers. Only Iain made her nervous—the way he was touching her, the way he whispered her name, the way she wanted to turn and kiss him. She glanced toward the house, wondering if his mother would appear to screech at her again. Not as confident as before, she continued, “Then it is a matter of clearing out the unwanted overgrowth. Once that stage is complete, you will have a better idea of what we’re working with.”

  “I’m sorry we were interrupted.” Iain ran a finger along the side of her neck. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he referred to. “And I know my family can be overwhelming. Let us make it up to ya. Stay for dinner tonight.”

  “You want to make it up to me by having me spend more time with your overwhelming family?” Jane gave a small laugh. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea. You’re my boss.”

  “Now that’s a game I’m willing to play, lassie.” He glided his finger over her shoulder and down her arm. Jane shivered. “Though I think we both know women will always rule over their men.”

  The possessiveness of his statement caused sadness to well in her chest. She tried to step away. “We should keep things professional.”

  “What fun is there in that?”

  “Iain—”

 

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