Cauldrons and Confessions
Warlocks MacGregor
Michelle M. Pillow
www.MichellePillow.com
Contents
About Cauldrons and Confessions
Warlocks MacGregor Series
Michelle’s Bestselling Series
Note from the Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
About the Author
Complimentary Material
The Savage King
Rebellious Prince
The Dragon’s Queen
Please Leave a Review
Cauldrons and Confessions (Warlocks MacGregor) © copyright 2017 by Michelle M. Pillow
First Electronic Printing March 28, 2017, The Raven Books LLC
ISBN-10: 1-62501-150-4
ISBN-13: 978-1-62501-150-3
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
All books copyrighted to the author and may not be resold or given away without written permission from the author, Michelle M. Pillow.
This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events or places is merely coincidence. Novel intended for adults only. Must be 18 years or older to read.
Published by The Raven Books LLC
www.TheRavenBooks.com
Raven Books and all affiliate sites and projects are © Copyrighted 2004-2017
About Cauldrons and Confessions
Paranormal Magick Scottish Contemporary Romance
Malina MacGregor is more than just a delicate flower in need of manly protection, but you wouldn’t know if by the slew of male family members who show up anytime she tries to go on a date. Sure, she’s made some poor choices in men in the past—like the demon she mistakenly hooked up with in Las Vegas years ago. But that was then, and this is now, and she more than made up for that mistake.
Darragh “Dar” Lahey may be a luck demon, but his luck ran out the night he met the temptress—Malina. Now he’s back, and he has an axe to grind. Malina needs to pay for what she did to him, and the supernatural attacks he’s firing at her magickal family is just the beginning. There is only one hitch in his plans for revenge—even after all this time the stubborn woman can still make his heart ache, and his body burn with need.
Warning: Contains yummy, hot, mischievous MacGregors who are almost certainly up to no good on their quest to find true love.
Warlocks MacGregor Series
Scottish Magickal Warlocks
Love Potions
Spellbound
Stirring Up Trouble
Cauldrons and Confessions
More Coming Soon
Visit www.MichellePillow.com for details.
Michelle’s Bestselling Series
Shape-shifter Romances
Dragon Lords Series
Barbarian Prince
Perfect Prince
Dark Prince
Warrior Prince
His Highness The Duke
The Stubborn Lord
The Reluctant Lord
The Impatient Lord
The Dragon’s Queen
Lords of the Var Series
The Savage King
The Playful Prince
The Bound Prince
The Rogue Prince
The Pirate Prince
Captured by a Dragon-Shifter Series
Determined Prince
Rebellious Prince
Stranded with the Cajun
Hunted by the Dragon
Mischievous Prince
Headstrong Prince
Space Lords Series
His Frost Maiden
His Fire Maiden
His Metal Maiden
His Earth Maiden
His Wood Maiden
More to Come!
To learn more about the Dragon Lords World series of books and to stay up to date on the latest book list visit www.MichellePillow.com
Note from the Author
The term “warlock” is a variation on the Old English word “waerloga” primarily used by the Scots. It meant traitor, monster, deceiver, or other variations. The MacGregor Clan does not look at themselves as being what history has labeled their kind. To them, warlock means magick, family, and immortality. This book is not meant to be a portrayal of modern day witches or those who have such beliefs. The MacGregors are a magickal class all their own.
As with all my books, this is pure fantasy. In real life, please always practice safe sex and magic(k).
Chapter 1
Nevada Desert, 1960
“How did you find me?” Malina couldn’t meet her brother’s gaze, but she felt Niall staring at her in disappointment from across the car as he drove her further and further away from Las Vegas. Eventually, the bright lights of the city faded in the rearview mirrors to an insignificant spot on the horizon. On any other night, the view might have been beautiful.
“Do ya really think you’re hard to track?” Niall gave a sarcastic laugh that held no humor. His Scottish accent was a stark contrast to her softer English one.
Malina tapped her fingers against the soda bottle on her lap not drinking it. Her eyes focused on the hem of his kilt. For once his clothes had blended in. When he came for her at the hotel, people assumed he was a performer, not the evil-hunting warlock he actually was. If there was an evil threat to be dealt with, there was no better man than Niall.
“The family always knows where ya are,” he continued. “Da sent me to bring ya home. Mobsters and degenerates are not the company for a lady to keep. I must say I’m disappointed in ya, Malina. A warlock of your abilities and ya squander it on booze and losers. Sometimes I think ma made a mistake sending ya away from the clan during the witch trials. Ya were a baby, so in some ways, it was not your fault that ya don’t fully understand the concept of family loyalty and duty. However, at over three hundred years old ya should know better.”
His words stung, but she had no defense. It’s not like she needed to be reminded that she was an outsider because of some humans in East Lothian, Scotland decided witches needed to be burned at the stake when she was born. One look at the birthmark on her ass and they would have declared her the child of Satan. Their beloved Aunt Elspeth had sacrificed herself so that Malina could live. The family liked to remind her of that fact as well.
“When are you going to give up these silly rebellions? I think ya get some sick pleasure in making us rescue ya. Is that it?” he demanded. “How many more will there be, Malina? How many bad decisions and stupid mistakes? Lord Barrison, the rogue—”
“That was the seventeen hundreds,” she protested.
“My point exactly. Barrison was trying to get ya to Gretna Green to elope for our family money. The cardsharp in London whose name we could never fully ascertain. George, the horse thief. Billy, the cattle rustler. Jack, the moonshiner. Your life has been a repeat of the same bad judgments. And now ya have graduated to mass murderers.” Niall jerked the car roughly to the right to avoid a cactus.
Malina slid on the seat and had to grab the door to right herself. The dots of blood on her hand reminded her of the casino shooting she’d just witnessed. The blood stained her fancy
dress. Malina began picking at her hand to scrape it off. The agony was almost too much. “I didn’t know he…” She couldn’t say the words.
When Niall first came to her to tell her the man she was with was a demon, she hadn’t wanted to believe him. She’d demanded proof. It was because of her all those people had been hurt and probably killed. If she had let Niall stop the demon sooner, those innocent people would have been safe.
“That’s my point. Ya never know, and ya never think. Each and every time ya have called me to help ya, and each time ya didn’t know he was a bad guy. Tell me, how could ya not know that the man ya were with is a demon?” Niall took a deep breath. “Drink it.”
“His name is Dar,” she said, not liking the word demon.
“Drink it,” he repeated.
“I don’t want to,” Malina denied. Just hours before she had been so happy. Now the pain was unbearable. This was much worse than the time she’d ben duped by a gold digging rogue. Barrison had wanted her money. Dar wanted her family’s magick. Oh, and he had done such a great job making her fall for him so that the betrayal of who he was combined with the ache of loss in her chest. It had all been a lie—every single second.
The headlights revealed the long stretch of endless desert, a wasteland of cacti and sand. After they had passed a rundown service station, the road disappeared, and the ride became bumpy.
A tear slipped down her cheek. “What are you going to do, Niall?”
“Ya know what I have to do,” Niall answered. “Now drink it. We’re almost there. I don’t want the demon taking possession of ya. I would not be able to live with myself if I was forced to subdue ya.”
“Maybe we’re wrong,” she said, though the logic of what she’d seen contradicted her vain hope. “Maybe he can explain himself.”
“He’s a demon,” Niall stated as if that was all the proof he needed. “What other proof do ya need? If my word is not good enough, then ya saw what he did.”
He stopped the car a little too quickly, and she was thrust toward the dash. She gripped the soda bottle as liquid splashed over the top.
He was right. She’d messed up this time, worse than ever before. She was a poor excuse for a warlock. All this time she acted like she had something to prove, that she was just as good as all her brothers, and cousins, and the entire MacGregor clan, and really she was the outcast screw up. She didn’t even know a demon when it pinched her on the witch’s mark.
“Trust your family,” Niall insisted. “Family is the only thing ya can count on in this life, my sister.”
Malina chugged the warm liquid laced with magical herbs. The numbness took effect almost instantly, and she felt herself calming and becoming more compliant. Mumbling as if she was suddenly under the influence of an entire bottle of tequila, she said, “Niall, this doesn’t feel like a protection spell. I feel… strange.”
“It’s for your own good. That will make this easier. I promise I’ll keep my word. None of the other’s will ever know what ya did. Trust me. We’ll clean up this mess and then it will be like it never happened. I’ll take care of ya. I will always take care of ya,” Niall said, taking the empty bottle from her. “Now, get out of the car. We have a demon to kill.”
Malina blinked a few times before obeying. Everything became a white fog as she met Niall by the trunk of the car. Her limbs hung heavy at her sides. Her eyes became fixated on the trunk as it opened. Dark eyes met hers. Those eyes didn’t reflect evil. They appeared frightened, and a little angry. Dar didn’t look like a demon. He looked like a man—a man tied up in the back of a car in the middle of the desert at night. Maybe they were wrong. Maybe this didn’t have to be done.
A gag pulled tight to Dar’s handsome mouth, muffling his words as he tried to speak. Malina couldn’t be sure if it were a plea or a curse.
“It’s as we discussed back at the hotel. He’ll try to trick you. The evil ones always do. You must not believe their lies.” Niall drew a sharp knife from his waist. The carved steel gleamed as Niall’s magick swirled up from his hand. He reached for Dar, using magick to strengthen his grip as he pulled the man from the trunk and began dragging him around to the front of the vehicle.
Niall pointed the blade at the ground and began to chant under his breath. Sand swirled over the desert as it lifted up and flew into the sky to create a grave.
“Wait.” Malina tried to bring up her powers, but they were slow to come to her. “Are you sure? He looks human.”
Niall didn’t wait, didn’t listen as if he knew she’d lose her nerve. He thrust the demon blade into Dar. The man’s once handsome face morphed into a hideous beast, giving her the last shred of evidence she needed. Kind eyes darkened into black pits as horns grew from his head. She screamed, backing up so quickly she tripped over the car. Niall didn’t miss a beat. He threw the demon into the hole and lifted his hand to create fire. Within seconds, Dar was burning, and the smell of his death was wafting over her numbed senses.
Confusion and pain filled her, combining with embarrassment. Niall was right. She’d fucked up yet again. She pushed to her feet and stumbled to the graveside. The smell was overwhelming, and she gagged. “I don’t feel well.” The red fire in the pit roared angrily as she looked down into it. She wanted to jump in and die too. “I feel dizzy.”
Tonight, life as she knew it had ended. There was no coming back from the feeling of loss she felt. Blackness came for her, and she didn’t fight it. She didn’t care if she never woke up again.
Chapter 2
Green Vallis, Wisconsin, Present Day
Malina MacGregor opened her eyes as a sensation of panic surged through her chest. She tried to catch her breath, gasping, “ten-Mississippi, nine-Mississippi…” as she focused on anything that would calm her racing heart. It had been decades since anxiety of this magnitude had held her in its grip. She couldn’t recall what she’d been dreaming of, or if she’d been dreaming at all.
One thing was for certain. Something powerful had affected her magick deeply.
Her left hand tingled, and then it began to shake. Her breathing was ragged, and she had a hard time catching it. She pushed out of the bed, kicking frantically at the covers. In fear, she lifted her fingers toward the window. Malina magickally forced it open without touching it. A cold rush of air filled her room, whipping her nightgown around her legs as she moved nearer the window. She took several deep breaths and forced herself to calm down.
It was still night. The expansive lawn of the MacGregor mansion appeared untouched. A hill sloped gently down toward the valley below. Melting snow dripped from moonlit branches on centuries-old oak trees that ran along the driveway. Her brothers’ cars lined one side of the cobblestone. It was the only road in or out of the estate. Behind the house were six acres of gardens with winding paths. Someone would have to trek through a lot of forest to find their way back there.
The Georgian mansion towered above the town like a feudal lord over his subjects. The people of Green Vallis might not know it, but the family of warlocks living over them had become their protectors. And, whereas they did not rule like a medieval lord over surfs, they did take responsibility for the townspeople’s lives. For, where the MacGregors went, trouble followed. These innocent humans were not responsible, and thus should not be made aware that the problem even existed. For all they knew, an eccentric Scottish extended family had moved into town.
The MacGregors had only been in Green Vallis for a few years and already her brother, Erik, had fought a psychic shadow creature. The lidérc were nasty things that feasted on the emotional energy of their victims. Her brother, Iain, battled a banshee. They all had run-ins with ghosts, including her Uncle Fergus who had summoned the reincarnated spirit of his long-dead wife who wasn’t too happy with the sloppy spells he’d been casting for the last century in his efforts to bring her back to life.
Even though such paranormal occurrences were common for her family, one thing about Wisconsin was not. Moving to Green Vallis had b
rought Erik, Iain, and Fergus their fíorghrá, true love. In battling these great threats, they’d somehow managed to find other pieces of their hearts—pieces that fitted naturally into the MacGregor family as if fate destined it.
Green Vallis was unlike other places they’d lived. Energy flowed from the ground in a convergence of ley lines. They all felt it and were stronger because of it. The danger of staying was that other supernatural creatures would feel the draw as well. Perhaps the panicked reaction she had was a warning that more trouble was on its way.
“What now?” she whispered, searching the grounds, even as the cold breeze stung her nose and lips.
The family owned nearly eighty acres in total, including the forest and a small stream in the woods. Malina glanced over the coach house built in the late eighteen hundreds. Her brothers wanted to convert it into a garage. But the heritage landmark was in full view of anyone curious enough to happen up the drive. Like the nosy Mrs. Callister who liked to tell the entire world in great detail anytime a MacGregor so much as moved a brick an inch. It was a conversion they’d do slowly so as not to arouse suspicion. It wouldn’t do to have the historical building change overnight.
“Mrs. Callister is that you?” Malina mumbled, not really believing it was. The outbuilding showed no signs of life.
The house itself was over twenty thousand square feet with the total rooms numbering in the sixties. Magick protected the MacGregor estate thanks to her brother Euann’s security spells. Even if those were to fail, her extended family was spread out over the house, so she wasn’t worried about anything suspicious breaching the walls.
Cauldrons and Confessions (Warlocks MacGregor Book 4) Page 1