Yet, the feeling of anxiety wouldn’t leave her.
The only other property on the hill was the Victorian house that belonged to her sister-in-law. Lydia was a green witch and ran a small business called Love Potions making homemade lotions, soaps, and candles. Malina wouldn’t be able to see that far from her window. Was Lydia out in the forest harvesting herbs for her store again? Was this the week the woman was going to the lotion makers’ convention with Erik?
As she peered through the shadows, her eyes failed to uncover the cause of the disturbance. Her intuition, however, whispered to the contrary. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It wasn’t Lydia. Something felt off—not necessarily good or bad, just wrong. It was like the universe had shifted for a moment and then righted itself leaving one or more things askew. It was a nagging thought she couldn’t express with words.
“Reveal yourself,” she commanded softly.
Tiny blue lights rose from the Earth. The small pinpoints around the tree would have been birds. A larger light in the forest could have been a deer. From below in the valley, a great many lights floated up, the life force of the people living in town at the bottom of the hill. Only one light gave her pause. Someone was trapped in the trunk of Euann’s car.
“What did you do now?” she grumbled at her brother, even though he wasn’t present to hear it. With a frown, she grabbed a robe from the end of her king-size bed and slipped it over her arms as she went downstairs to investigate.
MacGregor Mansion, so all the local townsfolk nicknamed the property, was perhaps one of her favorite homes they’d had over the years. Some members of the clan had wanted to move the family back to Scotland, to their ancestral homeland. In reality, they were legally Americans and, in the age of the Internet, moving an entire clan might draw some worldwide attention they didn’t want.
The New York penthouse had been nice, and she liked the constant stream of people, but there had been little nature to draw power from, and a warlock needed power to wield magick. In the South, the weather had been too hot, and she’d used half her magickal energy to stay dry in the humidity. The England of her youth had been lovely—or at least it was now that it resided in her memory—but she no longer recognized the country when she visited and found herself staring at the hints of the past she could find in old buildings and landscapes. Then there was Las Vegas in the 1960s. There was no way in hell she would ever set foot in that city again. Her memories of Vegas were a blur, and she had no desire to clear them, but she remembered enough never to go back.
Her hand began to tingle again, and she shook it vigorously to get it to stop. Perhaps she’d pinched a nerve and needed to have Cait tend to it when her aunt woke up in the morning. Cait had a knack for curing ailments.
Malina crept down the open marble staircase toward the front door. She made a small noise—surprised when she stepped on a clump of dirt at the bottom of the stairs. Someone must have tracked it in. It was then she realized she’d forgotten her slippers. Hopping a couple of times, she brushed her heel against her ankle to dust it off.
Malina felt her body attempting to draw energy from the plant life outside. The family used nature to fuel their magick. Power needed to come from somewhere. It’s not like magick could just appear out of thin air for no reason. Yet another reason Wisconsin was so perfect. It had plenty of countryside. Of course, sexual climax always gave a great power rush, but try bringing a man home for the night with a slew of brothers, male cousins, uncles, and her da waiting for them with arms crossed and magick at the ready for an Old Western showdown.
Even worse than the macho greeting party would be her ma, Margareta MacGregor, waiting with her horrible wedding planning scrapbook, and a disappointed lecture about being a lady. “Do not let men ride in the cart before they got the horse attached, Malina,” or whatever it was her ma tried to impart with her stupid sayings. Like at over 425 years old Malina was going to be clinging to her precious maidenhead.
“That cherry rotted long ago,” she muttered. She shivered as she stepped in snow. No wonder her body was trying to generate power, it was automatically keeping her warm. The white powder melted around her with each step making deep footprints.
Coming to the trunk of Euann’s latest gadget-filled sports car, she pointed her finger to pop it open. It didn’t budge as it repelled her magick back at her. She dodged the tiny blast, letting it disperse behind her. Why was a protection spell locking a body inside?
Sighing more in annoyance than anything else, she pounded her fist on the top. “Hey, everything all right in there?”
She leaned closer to listen. She wasn’t sure why, but the idea of someone being locked in a trunk made her uneasy. Movement brushed the interior and then stopped. Malina thumped her fist again on the trunk. A return knock sounded from inside. She could think of no reason to trap an evil creature in the trunk of a new car. Some family idiot had probably locked himself inside.
Malina glanced around the lawn to make sure it was still empty. It was undoubtedly a useless precaution, but she did it anyway out of habit. Then, stepping back, she lifted both hands and concentrated on pulling Euann’s car apart at the seams. Her magick found tiny holes in the protection spell. Whoever had cast the spell had been hasty, or lazy, in their implementation. Bolts floated in the air first with large chunks of metal following behind them. Finally, the trunk came apart. It was enough for the person trapped inside to free himself.
As the trunk lid moved out of the way, she was greeted with the way-too-intimate sight of Euann’s naked ass as he bent away from her. She gasped and instinctively jerked back. The parts of Euann’s car that were suspended in the air fell to the ground. Malina wasn’t too worried about the crashing sound waking neighbors. Their only neighbor was Lydia, and she was used to the MacGregor chaos.
Euann grunted as he rolled over parts of his disassembled car scattered in the snow. He landed near her feet. His dark eyes appeared confused and unable to focus.
Malina lifted her hands as she tried not to see anything else that would scar her for the next century. Though, honestly, these days the MacGregor men seemed to be running around naked about as much as they wore clothes. They’d taken to streaking in the woods.
“What are you doing out here?” Malina demanded, tugging her robe closer to her body.
Euann hiccupped and started to laugh. She detected the overpowering smell of tequila wafting from him. Figured. He was drunk.
“Rory told me it was my bed,” Euann explained, “but I don’t think he was telling the truth.”
And that figured too. Her cousin had something to do with this nonsense.
Euann tried to push to his wobbly feet. The longer length of his dark hair plastered to the side of his face, wet from snow.
“And you’re naked because…?” she prompted.
“Don’t ya sleep naked?” Euann questioned as if she were the strange one. He looked at the ground for a very long moment, taking his time processing what was happening. “Hey, what did ya do to my car?”
“You’re welcome, dumbass,” Malina said by way of an answer. “Now get inside before you scare the wildlife. And for goodness sakes, please draw in a little power to produce heat before you turn blue.”
Euann didn’t listen to her advice as he began reaching for a piece of his car in the snow. “Put it back together.”
Malina shrugged out of her robe and placed it on his shoulders before tugging his arm to walk with her. “Come on, brother, we’ll see to it in the morning.”
“Ya destroyed my car,” he insisted. “I’m putting that in the revenge book. Don’t think I won’t. I love that car. She’s my lady.”
“You bespelled my dance partner at the 1876 ball and made him believe I had leprosy when he tried to kiss me. He left screaming. We’ll call this even.”
“Fair enough,” Euann grumbled, as he struggled to thread his arms into her robe. He moved in a small circle as if chasing the sleeve hole. “But I like this car m
ore than ya liked your date, more than ya like most of your dates.”
“Fair enough,” she agreed. He was right. “Care to tell me what has you drinking so much lately?”
“Aw, not ya, too, English rose. I get enough lectures from ma,” Euann grumbled, his Scottish accent slurring.
Malina knew the nickname was meant as an endearment, but she had never liked it. Calling her English only reminded her that she had been banished from Scotland during the witch trials as a baby and raised away from the clan. It wasn’t her fault that her accent was English, her mannerisms were English, and her way of thinking was English. Their pointing that out only served to set her apart from the rest of the family. At first, she’d tried to force the Scottish accent, but that only made their teasing worse.
“She’s not awake, is she? I’m too drunk to lie effectively,” Euann said. “You’ll have to cover for me.”
“You’re sleeping naked in your car in the middle of winter,” Malina pointed out. She pushed her magick over him to keep him warm. “Maybe someone needs to lecture you a little about your life choices.”
“Don’t ya ever get tired?” Euann asked, his eyes turning toward the ground as he took a concentrated step. “Or lonely?”
“We live with a houseful of relatives. When do you have a chance to be lonely?” Malina guided him to the front door.
He stopped and slid his arm around her shoulders. The robe fell open, and she grimaced as she drew the front flaps together and held them in her fist to keep him from flashing.
“Don’t pretend ya don’t know what I’m talking about. I see the hollow in your eyes.” He touched the bridge of her nose. “Perhaps it’s something to do with turning 500 soon. We’ll officially be old. Unmarried. We’ll turn into crazy Uncle Raibeart, proposing to every woman we meet, drunk, lost, naked, pathetic.”
Malina gave a small laugh. “You’re halfway there. If you want, I can slip you a love potion and send you after Mrs. Callister. Then you won’t be so lonely. And maybe then she’ll stop following all of us around town taking notes and posting pictures on her blog. She seems to like you the best out of all of us.”
“Oh, och, not funny.” Euann winced. Then, laughing, he suggested, “How about we hit Niall with it? We can watch him trail after the town busybody. I’d give up casting spells for a year to watch him make a lovesick ass out of himself, singing and whatnot on that old biddy’s lawn.”
“It’d probably kill half the town to hear Niall belt out love songs,” Malina added. “It is about time our brother lightened up a little. All that time alone hunting supernatural bad-asses has made him surly.”
“Do ya ever think we’ll find it?” Euann asked.
“Find what?”
“What Jane and Iain have. What Erik and Jane have,” Euann mumbled. “What Uncle Fergus and Donna and Elspeth have.”
“I think you mean what Lydia and Erik have. Otherwise, the family dynamic suddenly turned weirder than usual.” Malina attempted to pull Euann up the staircase, but he slipped out of her grasp and sat on the bottom step. She magickally closed the front door and locked it.
“That’s what I said, what Lydia and Jane have.” Euann shut his eyes and laid his temple against an oak baluster. “My brothers are so lucky. We’re never going to have that, Malina. Ya know that, don’t ya? We’re cursed.”
The words stung, and she bit her lip. Euann didn’t say it to be mean, so there was no reason to defend herself against his observation. In all honesty, he was probably right. She didn’t believe she was worthy of finding true love. Some people were never meant to have such things. The loneliness threatened to consume her, and she pushed it aside. It was better not to dwell. There was a reason she didn’t contemplate such things.
“Maybe if you talked to girls in person instead of meeting them on the Internet,” Malina offered. “You’re a handsome enough guy. I’ve seen your profile picture. Those women go crazy for you, call you their Latin boy-toy, man-candy, whatever it is they say.”
“I’m Scottish,” Euann needlessly argued. “Ma did not have an affair with a Sack Man. I can’t help that I tan better than all of ya and look sexiest in a kilt.”
“I’m not going to discuss which of my brothers is sexiest in a kilt,” Malina stated.
“I know, right! Jane is experimenting with which plants help our powers the most. And Lydia is a green witch who belongs to… whoever. And they fit so well into the family, ya know,” Euann mumbled drunkenly. “It makes sense that fate would send them. But we’re the losers, Malina. Fate probably won’t smile on this family like that for another 500 years. All the love has been given out. We’ll be forced to settle or be hermits.”
“There is nothing worse than a drunk making self-realizations and thinking everyone else cares to hear them,” Malina muttered.
“What?” Euann leaned toward her as if that would help him comprehend her words better.
“And Donna cooking?” Malina asked instead, prodding along her brother’s nonsense. “Did that use up our love luck, too?”
“Och, no, banshee. None of Donna’s cooking. She tried to kill us last winter.” Euann’s eyes opened almost fearfully. “Uncle Fergus didn’t cut their trip short, did he? Don’t eat the cookies. They near killed Traitor. The poor dog didn’t do anything to anybody.”
“Ok,” Malina agreed.
“No, I’m serious, Malina. Don’t eat the cookies,” Euann enunciated.
“I can see that,” Malina patted his head. “I promise I won’t go back in time and eat Donna’s killer cookies. You have my word.”
“Ah, dammit, Malina. Why did ya let him out?” Rory appeared at the top of the stairs in his pajama pants. Like most of the MacGregors, he had light brown hair and green eyes. He’d tipped his hair with blond streaks but kept it trimmed short. Right now, his hair stuck up around his head like a wild creature had attacked him in the night. He hurried barefoot down to the first floor while keeping an eye on the upstairs landing to make sure no one heard his descent. “I had good reason to lock him up.”
“I love her,” Euann slurred, whipping around toward the sound of their cousin’s voice. He lost his balance and again grabbed hold of a baluster for support.
“No ya don’t, ya daft twit,” Rory grumbled. “And keep your voice down.”
“I could love her,” Euann persisted.
“Nice robe,” Rory teased, before suddenly talking to Euann as he would a pet. “Whose a pretty boy? You’re a pretty boy.”
“What’s going on here?” Malina eyed her cousin before turning back to Euann who was mumbling nonsensical sounds as if on the verge of passing out.
“The fool has got it into his head that he’s in love with Charlotte. He says he’s going to rescue her, aren’t ya?” Rory nudged Euann with his toe. “Going to marry her and make her part of the clan, aren’t ya, lover boy? Euann’s going to save Charlotte and make her sane again with his love.”
Euann swatted at Rory’s foot, missing his target and hitting the steps instead. He yelped in pain. “I can save her. Then Niall won’t try to erase any more of her memories. She won’t turn out like Helena. It’s the right thing. We have to do the right thing, or we’ll never lift the curse.”
Malina shared a look with Rory. Charlotte was Lydia’s best friend. When their magick had gone awry, they ended up erasing the woman’s memories for the sake of her sanity. If they hadn’t, Charlotte would have been on a one-way trip to an asylum. Unfortunately, there had been a great deal of magickal exposure, and Charlotte wasn’t the same afterward. They were doing everything they could to help navigate the poor woman back to mental stability.
“Did Niall say he was taking more from her?” Malina asked. “We can’t do that.”
Rory gestured that he didn’t have the answers.
“He has to be, right? He’s been following her and even moved into the apartment next to her so he could watch her. Why else would he stay in this town for so long?” Euann reasoned. “Niall does not care
who he sacrifices if it is in the name of protecting the clan from whatever he perceives to be a—hey, your hair is brown!”
Euann reached for Malina’s locks as if he was seeing them for the first time. She swatted his hand back. “No thanks to you, brother.”
He laughed. “I gave ya gray hair that kept coming back. Ya have to admit that was a good spell.”
Rory started to snicker. “Aye, and she looked like a banshee.”
Malina arched a brow and shot her cousin an irritated look. “Don’t encourage him.”
“I’ll stop if ya let me have Jim,” Rory offered.
Malina sighed. “Jim” was what her cousin had named his non-existent pet boxer puppy that he wanted Malina and Jane to magickally materialize for him. Jane’s unique heritage made her like a nature-battery power source, and Malina’s ability to materialize objects into reality from pictures had given Rory the grand idea that they should make him a friend. She had nothing against dogs. In fact, she quite liked them. The entire family did. Fergus’s English bulldog, Traitor, had been living with the MacGregors for decades. The problem was Rory’s dream dog came from a giant billboard he’d stolen and would be ten times the normal size of a natural dog.
Very flatly, she answered, “No.”
“Shh, Rory, we can’t call her banshee anymore. Jane’s ma was a banshee.” Euann leaned his head against the banister and closed his eyes. “And now she is a tree.”
“Should we carry him to bed?” Malina sighed heavily, not wanting to haul her brother up the stairs. “Do you think we can do it without waking everyone in the house?”
“I’m not going to bed,” Euann said. “I’m going to find Charlotte.”
“No reason.” Rory lifted his hand. Yellow light moved over Euann as Rory petrified his cousin into place. “There. He’ll stick to that spindle until morning. I’m too tired to keep running after him.”
Cauldrons and Confessions (Warlocks MacGregor Book 4) Page 2