A Dash of Destiny (Warlocks MacGregor Book 8)

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Life had not been easy, but she had not lived it badly. She didn’t deserve this.

  What did she deserve?

  There was something….

  Someone…

  Rory.

  She wanted Rory.

  She thought of his smile, and the cold didn’t feel so cold. She imagined his laugh, so real it felt as if he was trapped next to her. This would be the thought she carried into eternity—Rory, and all they could have been together.

  The idea triggered her imagination, and she felt Rory against her flesh. He was part of her, in her, and she was in him wherever he was.

  Jennifer saw his life as an observer in a dream. She saw him moving through time. He walked through tall grasses. His hand danced along the tops as he pushed through them, each brush of his palm like a caress. She witnessed him running after a woman, into danger. She felt his despair when he’d watched her sink into the earth. He had tried to save her with no thought of himself.

  It was then Jennifer understood what happened in this enchanted bog. Sinners were encased in darkness. This was a place of judgment. The bog witch collected souls, but only those who proved themselves worthy of her punishment. Jenny Greentooth planted them in the soil, and they churned and rotted to nourish the peat.

  Rory didn’t deserve to be here. He’d come into the bog to rescue a stranger, and Jenny had wanted to take him, for she was greedy and wanted her souls, but she’d been unable to keep him planted. He had not been worthy of her garden. The clarity of seeing Rory’s life laid out before her made Jennifer convinced of that fact. He was a good man with a kind soul. His selflessness had protected him. All those years ago in Ireland, Jenny had marked his soul so that it would find his way back to her judgment.

  If Jenny needed a soul, then Jennifer would let the bog witch have hers. She would take Rory’s place.

  Jennifer felt movement near her head. Sharp nails scratched her scalp as someone grabbed hold of her hair and pulled. The thick mud released her from its prison as she was brought into the light. She gagged, expelling filth from her mouth, just like in the cheese-induced acid trip. She tried to see, but mud stung her eyes.

  Someone’s breathing sounded like a cross between a death rattle and the rasp of a heavy smoker. Her rescuer dragged her from the bog by her hair. When her hand broke free, Jennifer swiped clumps of peat from her vision. Her legs pulled from the muck with a terrible sticking sound. Once free of the bog, she slid much faster. The hold on her hair hurt, but she didn’t care if it meant safety.

  Suddenly, her head thumped against the ground as her rescuer dropped her. Jennifer weakly reached out as a creature stepped past her. She made contact with a leg, causing the decrepit woman to turn her attention downward.

  Jenny Greentooth.

  Jennifer instantly let go. The hunched, bony frame looked as if it might have once been human. Long stringy hair clung to the bog witch’s back. Mud coated her naked, wrinkled flesh like paint.

  “Rory,” Jennifer whispered, unable to scream for him like she wanted.

  Jenny’s unfortunate, noseless face pressed close. The raspy breathing was louder now, joined by the foulness of her breath.

  “Rory,” Jennifer repeated. “Take me for Rory.”

  The words seemed to annoy the witch, and she growled. Jennifer flinched, but Jenny didn’t touch her again. She merely stood and continued back to the bog.

  Jim barked in excitement and ran past her. Jennifer pushed up, trying to grab the puppy but missed it. He pranced after Jenny. The bog witch ignored the dog.

  “Rory?” Jennifer called a little louder. She couldn’t see him. He wouldn’t have left her behind. There was only one place he could be.

  Jennifer crawled after Jenny.

  Jenny flung her arms, grumbling and growling as she clawed her way into the earth. Suddenly, she thrust her hand inside the small hole she’d made and turned. With one hand, she dragged Rory from the bog toward Jennifer. Her hunched body didn’t appear to labor under the task. Once he was free from the hole, Jenny dropped him on the ground near Jennifer.

  “Rory?” Jennifer swiped the mud from his face, digging past his lips to remove it from his mouth.

  For several very long seconds, his chest did not move. She didn’t want to breathe mud into his lungs but didn’t know what else to do. She pressed her mouth to his and prepared to force air into him.

  Rory’s hand pressed into her face, stopping her. She looked down to see his handsome eyes gazing up at her. She exhaled sharply in relief.

  “Rory,” she whispered. “Oh, thank goodness.”

  She glanced up to see Jenny standing in the disrupted soil. Her body was slowly sinking into the earth.

  “Thank you,” Jennifer said, too weak to stand and unwilling to leave Rory’s side.

  Jenny’s answer was anything but pleasant. The bog witch opened her mouth wide and let out a horrible screech.

  “Jennifer?” Rory’s voice came on a pant.

  Jennifer kept her hand on his chest to feel him breathing but watched Jenny as she disappeared into the ground.

  “How?” Rory asked, his hand slipping over hers on his chest.

  “She let us go,” Jennifer said, finally looking at him. “We weren’t worthy of her garden.”

  “I don’t know what that means and don’t care.” Rory cupped her face. “I thought I lost ya, love. I thought…”

  His words choked a little, and tears entered his eyes.

  “I thought you lost me too there for a moment.” Jennifer couldn’t keep herself upright and dropped down next to him. She rested on her side as he still held her hand to his chest over the comforting beat of his heart. “But it’s over now. She’s gone.”

  Rory’s brow furrowed as he rolled onto his stomach. Her hand slid off him. He pulled himself to his feet and stumbled toward the bog. Cautiously, he stepped forward, tapping his toe until he crossed the now-dried path.

  “I don’t think she’s coming back.” Jennifer watched him from her place on the ground. Her eyes stung with small granules of dirt, and she had to close them.

  “I don’t understand. Why did Jenny let us go?” Rory came back to her. She felt more than saw him.

  “Has your magick returned? Can you conjure some water so I can clean out my eyes?” Jennifer asked.

  “I can do one better.” Rory ran her hand over her face. Energy tingled her flesh as he used his magick. The mud flaked away from her skin, clearing her eyes and nose. The taste of peat disappeared from her mouth.

  “Oh, thank you,” she said.

  Rory hooked his arm under her armpit and helped her to her feet.

  She chuckled in relief. “I was afraid I was going to have to kiss you with the worst case of morning peat breath in history.”

  Rory did the same to his face, cleaning the mud from it with magick. “I’d do more, but I’m afraid my magick is drained.”

  The mud still stuck to their hair and clothes, but Jennifer didn’t care. They were alive. They were breathing and…

  “I love you,” Jennifer stated. “When Jim ran off, I was trying to tell you. I love you.”

  “We need to buy that puppy a leash.” Rory kissed her gently before whispering, “Say it again.”

  “I love you.” She smiled.

  “Again.” He pressed his cheek to hers.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “I will never tire of hearing that,” he said with a soft moan.

  “I will never stop saying it,” she promised.

  Rory glanced back to where Jenny had departed. “I should get ya back to the house.”

  “I don’t think she’s planning to return. We’re not worthy of her garden,” Jennifer said.

  “Ya mentioned that before, but what do ya mean garden?” Rory swooped his arm around Jim and carried him like a tiny football as he urged Jennifer to walk with him toward the mansion.

  “The bog, you said it’s enchanted,” she explained.

  “Aye.”
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br />   “I think it’s like purgatory or some kind of afterlife.” Jennifer hugged close to Rory, still chilly from their ordeal. The mud made her clothes heavy and uncomfortable. “When I was in there I understood. It showed me things.”

  “What kinds of things?” Rory brought the wiggling puppy closer to his chest and held him. The animal’s fur became matted.

  “I saw you. I saw a lot of you. It’s like I watched your life over the years like the bog was trying to decide if you deserved to be there if it could use you.”

  “Use me for what?”

  “Fuel for Jenny’s garden. She can’t keep you unless you earned your place. When you went after that woman, that selfless act saved you. But you’re magickal and strong, and Jenny wanted that for herself. She marked you with a curse so she could try again. It was my destiny to find you and bring you to judgment.”

  “No, it was your destiny to find me, but not for judgment.” He kissed her gently. “It’s because you’re the other half of my heart.”

  “And you’re mine,” she answered. Jennifer stopped walking and tried to catch her breath. “Sorry. I need a moment.”

  “Take as long as ya need.” Even as he said it, he looked worried as he peered down the way they’d come.

  “I felt Jenny’s rage when she couldn’t have you the first time. The blade would have transported your soul to her. When that didn’t work, she brought the bog to us. I saw your life, Rory. You’re a good man. Jenny saw that too. That’s why she couldn’t keep you.” Jennifer gave a small laugh. “I think it pissed her off, to be honest. If I’m not mistaken, she was pouting as she was pulling us from the sludge.”

  She nudged his arm to prompt him to walk with her again.

  “If ya saw my life, maybe ya are the one who judged me.” Rory’s lip curled with a half-smile, and she wondered what he was thinking.

  “I want it noted for the record that I’m human. I’m not a bog witch, or wench, or descendent of one. For whatever reason, my name being similar to hers was enough to connect us. That’s it.”

  “Noted, but it wouldn’t matter to me if you were a bog witch,” Rory answered.

  “I’m human,” she insisted.

  “It makes sense. There is power in a name, in words. Spells are created with them all the time. If what ya say is true, then Jenny was waiting for the right combination of factors so her curse could play out.”

  Jim tried to lick Rory’s dirty hand, and he pulled it out of reach.

  “Just so we’re all clear on the me being human part,” she said. “Be sure to tell the elders, so they stop calling me names and trying to potion me. I can promise I won’t lose my temper if they start up again.”

  “I like that. It sounds like we have a future.” His grin widened. “I’d kneel, but I’m not sure I’d be capable of standing back up.”

  “Kneel? For what?” Jennifer glanced at the ground.

  “For this.” Rory kissed her again, slow and deep. She felt him all the way to her toes. When he broke the kiss, he said, “Marry me, love. When I thought I lost ya I knew that I would never be able to live without ya. If ya have truly seen my life, then ya know everything ya need to know. And if ya don’t, I’ll tell ya the rest.”

  “I did see quite a bit.” Jennifer studied his face. “Including that little incident with Lady Sylvia back in the 1700s. I can’t say I am happy to have that memory thrust into my brain. I saw you checking out her backside.”

  Rory’s eyes widened, and he began to sputter a little. “Now, my love, ya can’t be mad about that. Ya weren’t even born yet. She meant nothing to me. No other woman existed before ya. Not really. I—”

  Jennifer laughed. “You’re way too easy to tease.”

  “I…” He looked confused, as if unsure if he was in trouble.

  “Yes, Mr. MacGregor. I’ll marry you.” Jennifer closed her eyes and offered her mouth. She felt Jim squirming in protest as he squeezed lightly between them. When she pulled back, she gazed into Rory’s eyes and whispered, “But seriously, do you think you can sneak us into a shower? If your family sees me like this, I’m never living the bog witch nickname down.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ireland, Six Weeks Later…

  Jennifer stood in the field of rocky protrusions and wildflowers. The long white skirt of her wedding dress clung to her legs in the breeze. The gown was simple, but not as simple as she would have chosen. Cait and Margareta had been overly helpful in the wedding planning.

  Jennifer saw no hint of what had transpired there hundreds of years ago when she looked over the beautiful landscape. But she knew. She recognized a feeling radiating from the place, though the enchanted bog was no longer there. Part of her expected to see Jenny Greentooth pop her head up from the ground to witness the nuptials.

  “Ya are the loveliest vision.” Rory stood next to her in his formal kilt. “My life truly began the moment I saw ya.”

  In the last few weeks, she’d learned a lot about his family’s traditions. One is that they took their kilt fashion very seriously. His brother, cousins, uncles, and father all stood nearby with matching attire. The women had opted for nicer dresses. Since Jennifer didn’t have family, Maura stood up for her as a bridesmaid. Their flower girl, Jewel, wore leather pants, a vest, and a plastic sword. They’d tried to put her in a princess dress, but she kept magickally changing her outfit into that of her new favorite playtime character, a dragon slayer.

  “This is where it all started,” Jennifer said. “All it takes is a dash of destiny, and everything can change. Our destiny was written in this earth centuries years ago, and it is here I pledge my love to you for the rest of eternity. I am yours. Forever.”

  The vows weren’t traditional, but they were hers, and they were real. Jennifer didn’t need a flowery speech to tell Rory how she felt. She showed him her love every single day.

  “Forever,” he repeated.

  Rory brought his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply. She felt his magick inside of her as if it were her own.

  “Och, we’re not to that part, laddie,” Murdoch said.

  “Let them be. I declare them married.” Raibeart sniffed.

  “Are ya crying?” Angus asked.

  “Aye, mayhap a little,” Raibeart answered. “It’s romantic. Let’s move this party to the pub. Ladies love wedding parties. Puts them in the mood for lovemaking.”

  Cheering and clapping erupted, causing them to break their kiss.

  “Welcome to the family!” Murdoch pulled Jennifer away from her new husband and gave her a giant hug. She found herself passed around from father to uncle to brother to sister to cousins to aunts as they all congratulated her.

  Yeah, they could be a bit overwhelming at times.

  Rory rescued her as he swooped her up into his arms and began carrying her away from the field.

  “Follow me!” Raibeart declared. “I know the way.”

  “Liquor is the other way,” Murdoch said when Raibeart would march them into the wilderness.

  Raibeart instantly turned and thrust his hand into the air. “To the liquor!”

  “Well, at least he’s wearing clothes,” Jane told her husband.

  “For now,” Lydia answered as she threaded her arm into Erik’s. “The evening is young, and I have a feeling Ireland is about to have several reports of invading naked Scots.”

  “Jewel, no,” Andrea yelled. “No dragon! No dragon!”

  Jennifer glanced into the sky just in time to see a mythical beast disappear into a puff of smoke. She inhaled sharply and held tighter to her new husband.

  “Don’t worry. You’re a MacGregor now. You’ll get used to it,” Rory said.

  “I made a cake,” Cait announced to the family.

  Jennifer buried her head in Rory’s shoulder and whispered, “Yeah, that’s scarier than the dragon. I’m still not eating anything your mother gives me.”

  The End

  The Series Continues with

  Night Magick

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sp; CLICK HERE to get the next book!

  The Series Continues

  Warlocks MacGregor® 9: Night Magick

  Maura MacGregor might by new to the secretly magickal town of Green Vallis, but this isn't her first dance with the devil. See what fate has in store for her!

  Warning: Contains yummy, hot, mischievous MacGregors who are almost certainly up to no good on their quest to find true love. And Uncle Raibeart.

  Night Magick

  CLICK HERE to get the next book!

  Warlocks MacGregor® Series

  Scottish Magickal Warlocks

  Love Potions

  Spellbound

  Stirring Up Trouble

  Cauldrons and Confessions

  Spirits and Spells

  Kisses and Curses

  Magick and Mischief

  A Dash of Destiny

  Night Magick

  More Coming Soon

  Visit www.MichellePillow.com for details.

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  About Michelle M. Pillow

  New York Times & USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  Michelle loves to travel and try new things, whether it's a paranormal investigation of an old Vaudeville Theatre or climbing Mayan temples in Belize. She believes life is an adventure fueled by copious amounts of coffee.

  Newly relocated to the American South, Michelle is involved in various film and documentary projects with her talented director husband. She is mom to a fantastic artist. And she's managed by a dog and cat who make sure she's meeting her deadlines.