Rory appeared behind her in the mirror.
“I didn’t want to believe you when you said the strangeness might come back. I hoped resisting the urge to kill you would have broken the spell.” Jennifer grabbed a hand towel and wiped her face.
“Most spells and possessions are not easily broken. I’m not sure what this is.” He touched her arm, and she pulled away from him.
Backing deeper into the bathroom, she faced him. “Rory, maybe you should not be around me.”
Jennifer didn’t want him to leave, but she was afraid of what might happen if he stayed.
“I don’t know what I’m capable of and—” she tried to explain.
“I’m not afraid of ya, love. I know ya won’t hurt me,” he interrupted.
“I won’t, but the spell might.” Jennifer turned back to the mirror. She stared at her eyes, trying to see if something else lingered there. “Or the possession.”
The idea of something living inside her terrified her.
“It’s like I’m living a bad made-for-television movie,” she whispered, pulling down her bottom eyelid to examine her eye more closely. “I have multiple personalities living inside me. When the alter takes over, I can’t remember attacking you, except for the last time. Then I felt the outside will trying to force my hand.”
“That might be because of the cheese,” he said. “The potion was supposed to reveal the truth. I think that’s what it did.”
Jennifer didn’t want to think about the tainted cheese ball.
A loud knock sounded on the door. Jennifer stiffened at the noise. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this.
“It’s probably Maura,” he said. “I promise we’re going to figure this out.”
Jennifer nodded. She reached to shut the bathroom door behind him. “I just need a minute, and then I’ll be out.”
Rory leaned to kiss the back of her wrist as she held the knob. As if reading her deepest fear, he said reassuringly, “Ya are not alone, Jennifer. Ya have the whole of the MacGregor clan at your side. But, most importantly, ya have me. I’m not leaving ya.”
“Thank you.”
Jennifer closed the door behind him and turned to the mirror. She opened her mouth wide and tried to look into her throat. Then she held open her eyelids and studied each eye.
She heard muffled voices coming through the bathroom door. Maura and Bruce had joined them. A small bark followed their words.
Jennifer leaned her ear against the door to listen. She could barely make out what they were saying.
“Ma called. She’s worried…” Bruce’s voice sounded serious.
“…Jenny Greento…” Maura said.
“…bog…Ireland…can’t….” Bruce added.
Jennifer quietly turned the handle and inched the door open, hoping they wouldn’t notice and kept talking. She peeked out into the room through the narrow slit.
“I don’t remember,” Rory said.
“Sure ya do,” Bruce said. “Ya were in Ireland, and ya followed a woman into a bog.”
“No, I…” Rory gave a small laugh. “Oh, hey, little fella, easy there.”
“Jennifer.” Bruce smiled. “So good to see ya.”
“Heard about ya trying to stab my brother,” Maura said. “Can’t say ya are the first to have had that impulse.”
Jennifer knew they were trying to sound lighthearted, but their concern was evident in their eyes.
Rory held the black puppy she’d followed into the woods. The ball of fur struggled to be released. Rory obliged, and the scamp bounced playfully in her direction. His tag wagged so hard that it jerked his hips into the excited gesture.
“Oh, hey, hi, uh…” she greeted the dog.
“Jim,” Rory supplied.
“Hi Jim,” Jennifer finished, leaning over to pet the dog’s head. He instantly tried to nip at her fingers.
“That’s a stupid name for a dog,” Maura said.
“Maura’s a stupid name for a sister,” Rory quipped.
“You’re stupid,” Maura taunted, mimicking a child.
“Ya are,” Rory countered.
“Ya both are. Don’t make me separate ya.” Bruce grumbled as he moved to sit on the bed.
Maura stuck out her tongue and scrunched her nose.
Rory lifted his hand. This time his magick was yellow as he threatened his sister. “Don’t make me freeze ya like that.”
“Do, and I’ll tell ma ya broke the rules,” Maura answered. “They said no more petrifying spells. All ya boys up at the manor house couldn’t handle your magick. They had to take it away from ya.”
“Ya both realize Jennifer is witnessing this childish display.” Bruce leaned against the headboard and folded his arms over his chest.
“By all means, continue.” Jennifer stood. “I find it highly entertaining.”
Rory’s fingers grew brighter.
Maura held up her hand in warning. “No, don’t!”
Rory laughed and extinguished the magick.
“Why did ya give them this serial killer suite?” Bruce looked around the room. “Ya know, just one door down, I just finished a new design.”
Jennifer stiffened and looked around. “Serial killers stay here?”
“He’s joking,” Maura dismissed before turning a pointed stare at Bruce. “Ya are joking, right? Ya haven’t hidden weapons or body parts in the walls or anything creepy like that?”
“No body parts,” Bruce answered. “Ya know how the neighbors of the killer are always interviewed afterward, and they talk about how normal and boring the guy was? That’s what this room is. Normal and boring. But if ya look at it, it’s a little too normal and too boring, like it’s trying too hard to convince us it’s not what it really is.”
“They do say it’s the quiet ones you have to look out for,” Jennifer agreed. “Maybe it’s the quiet rooms you have to be wary of, too.”
“Exactly!” Bruce pointed at her. “Thank ya, Jennifer. It’s nice to have someone with a brain to talk to.”
“Well, I’m not putting serial killer suite on the brochures,” Maura said. “In fact, I’m regretting going into business with ya on this place.”
“That’s because ya lack vision,” Bruce answered, unconcerned.
“And ya lack business sense. This is Green Vallis, Wisconsin, not a Hitchcock movie.” Maura turned to Jennifer, effectively ending the conversation with her brother by asking, “How are ya feeling, Jennifer? Ma said ya had a bit of spell.”
“I’m under a spell,” she corrected. “Or possessed with like a demon or something.”
“What?” Maura looked between her two brothers. “I thought they said Jenny Greentooth. No one mentioned we were dealing with a demon—”
“No,” Rory interrupted. “Not a demon.”
All Jennifer got out of that little exchange was that actual demons were real. She hugged her arms against her stomach and tried not to think about it.
“Bog witch,” Rory picked Jim up off the floor and then sat on the end of the bed near his brother’s feet. He released the puppy to play on the mattress.
“Oh, well, at least that’s something.” Maura sat down in the pastel chair next to the table. “I can’t handle another apocalyptic battle. I don’t remember the bog witches ever wanting to take over the world, just collect a few souls.”
“How did ya escape the bog witch when ya were in Ireland?” Bruce asked.
Rory averted his eyes.
Jim started digging at the comforter, trying to bunch it up. He walked in a tight circle several times before plopping down in the nest he’d tried to make for himself.
“Tell me ya didn’t seduce her.” Maura silently gagged. She held up her hand toward Jennifer. “Sorry. I know the two of ya are…something.”
“In love,” Rory answered.
Jennifer’s mouth opened in surprise at how easily he claimed to be in love with her.
“Uh, I think maybe that’s a conversation ya should have with your girlfriend when we’re no
t around. It seems to be news to her,” Bruce said.
Rory looked at her and gave a light shrug. “I’m not ashamed of my feelings.”
“I…” Jennifer wasn’t used to talking about these things, especially not in front of an audience. Jim was the only one in the room not staring at her. She slowly sat on the foot of the bed, bending one leg so she could face them while keeping one foot on the floor. “I want to know what happened with the bog witch in Ireland.”
“It was what…?” Rory looked at his brother.
“Mid-1600s, maybe?” Bruce guessed.
“Aye, something like that.” Rory sighed. “I can’t recall how I escaped. I remember seeing someone who I thought needed help. She lured me into the bog. Or maybe I’m remembering stories I’ve heard told over the years. It all happened such a long time ago.”
Four hundred years ago.
Jennifer looked at Rory anew, studying his face.
Maura laughed. “Look, she’s calculating how old ya are.”
“No, I…” Jennifer chuckled. “Yeah, I was.”
“A woman lured ya into the bog,” Bruce prompted his twin to keep telling his story.
“I must have been stuck at that point. I’m guessing my magick didn’t work to get me out of there and…” Rory scrunched up his face.
“Remember.” Maura gestured to her brother with both hands. A light pink trailed from her fingers like smoke-snakes.
The trails entered into Rory’s eyes. He inhaled sharply.
“Aye, I was stuck in an enchanted bog. My magick wouldn’t work, and I couldn’t save the woman I followed,” he said, his accent becoming a little thicker. “A child circled me, not falling in, and then pushed me deeper so that I was trapped.”
Rory rubbed his eyes and shook his head.
“A child?” Bruce frowned.
“From a nearby village, maybe?” Rory stroked Jim’s head. “The rest of the memory is blank. Though, it does make sense in a way. Each time Jennifer has been compelled to harm me, I’ve been restrained and without magick. It’s that same trapped feeling. Plus, she comes after me with an ancient blade from that part of the world. No matter how many times we lock it in the vault, the weapon finds its way back to her like it belongs to her.”
“It’s not much, but it’s a start.” Maura pushed up from the chair. “I’m going to go to the office and call Ma. I’ll tell her what ya told me. She’ll probably want ya back at the house.”
“I’m not going up there,” Jennifer denied. “Not after that cheese.”
“Cheese?” Maura frowned. “Did Ma…?”
“No. She didn’t try to human cook,” Rory answered. “She laced a cheese ball with some kind of discovery potion, and Jennifer reacted with hallucinations—”
“It was like being on an acid trip,” Jennifer put forth. “A bad one, too. Instead of unicorns and bunnies, I choked out balls of mud and cried dirty water.”
“I’ve never seen unicorns when I was on acid,” Bruce mused. “Though I did see a herd of albino buffalos chasing a naked leprechaun.”
Rory and Maura turned to look at their brother.
“It was the sixties. I’m an artist. Free love and all that,” Bruce said. “Not to dismiss what ya were telling us, Jennifer. I’m sorry my ma slipped a spell on ya.”
“Just when we think the elders are finally catching up with the times, they pull some of that authoritarian medieval magick crap,” Maura grumbled.
“For the good of the family,” Bruce said with an exaggerated tip of his head.
Jennifer couldn’t tell whether or not he believed the words.
“Keep the family secret at all costs. Mortals can’t know about magick. They can’t handle the truth. Take their memories.” Maura waved her hands as if she could erase all she just said. “Ugh. Just ugh. I don’t know how ya stay around all that, Rory. I wouldn’t move back into the family home if ya promised me a thousand granted wishes.”
“Because they’re family,” Rory said. “I know ya have had your issue with some of the old ways, but family is family. We’re always there for ya if ya like it or not.”
Jennifer stared at her trembling hands. She didn’t have that. There was no family safety net waiting for her with open arms to help her through this bog witch thing.
“Ya would take issue with the old ways too if ya were a lady,” Maura said. “Ask our cousin. She knows. Why do ya think Malina ran off to live in Vegas with a luck demon? It’s not easy being a young MacGregor woman.”
Jennifer coughed to hide her sudden laugh at Maura’s use of the word young. Considering most of them were hundreds of years old, it’s not a word that would apply.
“Ya all right, love?” Rory asked.
“Just a little dust,” Jennifer dismissed.
“The men acting like we’re delicate flowers to be protected,” Maura continued, ignoring the interruption. “Our mothers telling us to act like ladies with pearls and white gloves so that it’s impossible to throw a proper fireball at a troll horde. Have ya ever tried to hold magick through dainty white gloves? Bloody things stain so badly. And forget running when your corset is laced so tight—”
“Tirade, sister,” Bruce interrupted.
“Aye, wee rant,” Rory agreed, his attention more on the puppy than his sister.
“Well, it sucks is all I’m saying,” Maura finished.
“Stepping away from my sister’s seventeenth-century undergarment trauma for a moment,” Bruce said. “Jennifer, I welcome ya to stay at this motel as long as ya like, especially until we get this bog witch mystery figured out.”
“Thank you,” she answered.
“I’m staying too,” Rory said. “And Jim.”
“Maura, how about I call ma to tell her what’s happening, and ya can go to the grocery store and pick up provisions,” Bruce suggested.
“Why do I have to do the shopping?” Maura crossed her arms over her chest.
“Aye, ya are woman, and I hear ya roaring or whatever, but do we want me in the lady parts aisle getting the feminine whatnots?” Bruce asked. “Or do ya think maybe this once ya can do the shopping?”
“This may be wrong, but I kind of want to see what feminine whatnots your brother things I need,” Jennifer whispered to Rory.
It wasn’t quiet enough because they all started laughing.
“I’m a little curious too, Bruce. What whatnots does a lady need?” Maura asked.
“Ya know, those little cotton missile launchers and lily of the valley powder.” Bruce made a gesture as if to mimic a woman patting body powder on her cleavage. “Toiletries. Lady whatnots.”
“So tampons and perfumed body powder,” Maura stated. “Those are the emergency supplies that ya think a lady needs?”
“Aye, tampion,” Bruce said.
“Tam-pon,” Maura sounded out.
“Aye, tampion,” Bruce repeated.
“A tampion is a plug ya put in front of a gun muzzle, ya halfwit,” Maura said. “This isn’t medieval France.”
“He’s messing with ya, Maura,” Rory said.
“Point made. I’ll do the shopping,” Maura walked toward the door and pulled it open, getting ready to leave. “Jennifer, make a list, and I’ll get ya whatever ya need later. For now, I’ll pick up something for lunch and a bunch of snacks for the room.”
“And for ya, my dear sister,” Bruce added, jumping up from the bed to follow her, “don’t forget to pick up your smelling salts. I would hate for ya to have a fainting fit, ya delicate flower.”
The door shut behind them.
Now that they were alone, Jennifer said. “They’re sweet, your siblings.”
“Aye.” Rory nodded.
“And very generous.” She crawled toward the head of the bed to take over Bruce’s spot.
“Aye.” Rory grinned. “They like ya. I can tell.”
“So,” Jennifer glanced around the motel room. “You, me, and Jim on a Green Vallis motel vacation. I suppose I can think of worse ways to
spend our time.”
“If ya don’t want to be here, I’ll take ya wherever ya want to go. The mansion, your home, Edinburgh. Do ya want to go to Edinburgh?”
“Well, yeah, of course I do. Who doesn’t want to go to Scotland?” she asked. “But I think here is probably the best plan for now. At least until I stop trying to kill you.”
“Whatever my lady wishes,” Rory said. The puppy attacked his hand, and he laughed. “Isn’t that right, Jim? Jennifer can have whatever her heart desires.”
“He’s an unusual dog, isn’t he? What kind do you think he is?” she asked.
“Cute.” Rory shrugged.
“I meant the breed,” Jennifer clarified.
“Maura took him by the vet. They think he’s a schipperke and possibly part something else.”
“Schipperke? I’ve never heard of that kind,” she said. “His face looks kind of like a miniature bear cub.”
“They make great watchdogs and were used to catch rats around barges,” he said.
“Interesting.” She petted Jim’s head. “Did you have to look that up?”
“Told ya we like animals,” he said. “I’ve been around a while.”
“Why don’t you let Jim play on the floor? Then make sure that door’s locked and come here, Mr. MacGregor?” Jennifer grinned. “I can think of one thing this lady desires.”
Rory shot a stream of magick at the door. The lock chain moved on its own, sliding into place. He leaned over the side of the bed to gently lower Jim to the floor.
Rory crawled toward her. His clothes dropped off his body without effort. When he reached her, he was completely naked.
“What were ya saying, love?” Rory kissed the corner of her mouth. “I am here to serve.”
Chapter Fifteen
Being stuck in a room for a day and a half with Rory was as close to perfect as she would ever find, and thanks to his magickal abilities, quickly dressing when his siblings came to the door was literally a breeze. Their clothes blew onto them with a magickal whirl…and then back off again when they were alone.
Actually, every second with Rory could be considered a magickal whirl.
A beautiful dash of destiny.
“What are ya thinking just now?” Rory whispered against her temple. His hand rested across her naked waist. An occasional tingle vibrated her skin where they touched as if his magick flowed just beneath his surface.
A Dash of Destiny (Warlocks MacGregor Book 8) Page 13