Witches of Skye

by M. L. Briers

  “Ross,” Moira bit out, she was going to take a step, but Malachi was in front of her in a heartbeat, wagging his finger with a smirk.

  “He might be a little bit touchy … snappy,” he said and got zapped for his troubles. “Never a good deed,” he grumbled.

  I couldn’t say that it was Moira that had zapped him, and I wouldn’t say that it wasn’t, but either way – he deserved it for scaring the bejesus out of me with that whole hero routine of getting between the wolves – eejit.

  “Say a lie, feel the fire, speak the truth, and it’ll spare ye,” Gran snapped my attention towards her as she started towards Fraser. She issued her warning and pushed her magic out at him. Fraser convulsed with pain as the matriarch’s magic went to work on him. “Speak it,” she demanded, “did you kill your da?”

  “Go to he…” he roared in pain. You did not mess with Gran – it just wasn’t done as he found to his cost. Strangely enough, I felt the urge to cheer her on.

  “Speak it, lad, did ye kill your da?” she demanded once more.

  “He was weakening…” Fraser bit out in disgust. “If not me then another would have challenged for alpha.” He spat out.

  “Why point the finger at Ross? Why not take the victory as your own, claim alpha for yourself?”

  “Ross was wanted in the pack, some saw him as alpha material. Even my own father liked Ross to take his place,” Fraser spat out.

  “You son of a…” Ross tried to push up to his feet, but he looked like he’d been weakened from the change and could only manage to drag himself to his hands and knees.

  “Did you tell your pack it was Ross?” Gran demanded.

  “Aye, so when I killed him in retribution then I’d claim alpha,” Fraser growled.

  “The tourist?”

  “Wrong place – but, it did have you questioning Ross, even had him questioning himself. If you thought him a beast, you would nay defend him…”

  “Nothing and no one to stand in your way,” Gran bit out in disgust. “You’re an evildoer Fraser MacNabbie.”

  Gran dropped her hands and with it her magic as she turned back towards the house. It was then that I saw the man’s body tense as he mustered his strength and pushed up fast.

  I lifted my hands as a warning left my lips – Gran started to turn back, but Ross roared as he covered the distance in a heartbeat. One strike from his razor-sharp claws was all that it took to take his cousin down.

  “Okay,” Malachi said, as we all stood there in silence staring at the dead man on the ground. “I’m not burying another werewolf.”

  ~

  Dougie and Angela were back, which was great, and they were proudly flashing off the engagement ring, that must have cost the man a pretty penny, and basking in the congratulations everywhere they went. I have to admit; I did feel pleased for them.

  I was also jealous in a way. Not that I wanted Dougie, no thank you, not that I was in a rush to be married, and the thought of being burdened with little horrors like my sisters and I were when we were kids was just – not on my to-do list anytime soon. No, I was jealous that they were happy in not knowing about werewolves and vampires and the monsters that watched from the darkness of the night.

  I didn’t wish my magic away, but I sort of wished that I could go back to a few months before Earnest Croon’s death when life had been so simple, and live in blissful ignorance for just a wee while once more.

  “The past can’t be revisited, Maggie,” Malachi said, catching me unaware as I stood looking out over the Loch to Raasay. I snapped my magic around me and locked the intruder to my thoughts outside.

  “Tell that to the woman who wrote Outlander and her gazillions of readers,” I tossed back over my shoulder. “Actually, don’t. Everyone needs something to take them away from the darkness of their lives, in whatever shape or form that materializes.”

  “For the purposes of escapism, I’m right here,” he said, opening his arms wide and with a big teasing grin on his lips that I could have zapped away in the click of my fingers, but chose not to.

  “Yes, you are. Mr. Darkness in the flesh,” I shot back.

  It was a tempting thought. Losing myself in the moment, several moments, and it sounded good to my tired mind. But once I crossed that bridge I couldn’t go back again, and crossing it with Malachi was never going to be the sane option.

  “Maggie McFae,” Jack called, and I grumbled at hearing my full name once more.

  “I’ll let you think on that proposition and give you a little time,” Malachi said, retreating as Jack came towards the pier. I watched as they passed each other, like two caged beasts getting a feel for each other’s weaknesses and where to attack. Men.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  ~

  “I still know my name, Jack Mackie, you don’t need to keep on reminding me of it,” I tossed that out there and brought Jack’s attention towards me. It was less painful than watching them size each other up with their testosterone on display.

  Jack did the caterpillar eyebrow thing again, and that time I didn’t think it was so cute — probably because he was offering me a half glare at the same time.

  “There’s something about that man — I just can’t put my finger on it,” Jack said, although, I don’t think he was talking to me, just speaking aloud in general.

  “I could tell you — but then I’d have to kill you,” I offered back. The look on his face was priceless. I felt like shouting; vampire! Surprise! But it probably wouldn’t have been me trying to kill Jack. “Joking – geez.” I rolled my eyes and made light of it.

  “Dougie is back with his new fiancee, and I’m on my way off the island,” Jack said like that was big news. Obviously, it had been coming.

  I really was happy for the newly engaged couple though, and I really did wish them a long life full of happiness away from the darkness that surrounded mine. As for Jack leaving, well, it was best that he was getting out of harm’s way before he uncovered something that would get him killed.

  “The tourist’s death is…?” I had to ask. It had been avenged in the best and oldest way possible.

  “Unexplained animal attack.” Jack fidgeted from one foot to the other, he looked uncomfortable at that conclusion, and I couldn’t blame him, it wasn’t like Skye had wolves or bears.

  “Those darn haggis,” I said. Trying to make light of a bad situation that really shouldn’t have been made light of.

  He berated me with a look. Funny, I was getting used to that look on him, and now he was leaving again.

  “I can’t be a part of this world, Maggie,” he said, coming to the same conclusion that I had.

  My people weren’t Jack’s people. He had no way to defend himself against a vampire, wolf, or even a witch. He was better off out of it, and we’d already proven twice that we could clear up our own mess.

  “Best not to try. Someone will only get hurt.”

  He could take that anyway he wanted. I knew that I’d been pulling away from Jack since the moment he’d left the last time and there was no reason not to. I’d made it clear to myself that Jack just wasn’t in my stars.

  “Right.” He went to turn and hesitated. “What about that animal was it — is it over now?”

  “Done.” I shrugged my shoulders and said no more.

  He nodded. It looked like he understood, and as he turned and walked away from me I knew that we were also done, not that we’d ever gotten started, but I had hoped. Oh, it didn’t matter, life was never easy.

  Malachi caught my eye. He was standing over by the parked cars looking down at me.

  I wasn’t entirely sure why he was there, and I wasn’t entirely sure if he could hear me or not — he may have been eavesdropping, but I gave a slow shake my head just in case he felt the need to tie up any loose ends where Jack was concerned. I was sure of one thing; Jack Mackie wasn’t a threat to any of us.

  “I would never forgive you,” I said, still not knowing if he could hear me, or if he cared one w
ay or the other whether I hated him to the bone or not. But he turned on his heels and walked away, and for my own peace of mind, I had to assume that he’d heard and that Jack would stay safe from harm.

  What else could I do? Follow Malachi everywhere he went for the rest of Jack’s life – that would have been … awkward.

  I turned back towards Raasay. My heart wasn’t heavy, but it did ache just a little as tended to be the case when somebody that was in your life left it for whatever reason.

  “Maggie!” Moira’s shrew-like voice called from the back of the bistro. I turned to find her with a look of glee on her face. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth was open. “Eileen is going to finally boil an egg!” She beckoned me on with a wave of her hand like an excited child.

  “Shut your yapping; I’ve boiled an egg before,” Eileen’s voice carried from out of the kitchen and towards me.

  “What are the odds that she gets it to explode?” Moira winked and my heart sunk lower in my chest.

  “It never rains, but it pours.” I set off for the bistro on fast feet, hoping that Moira hadn’t already spelled the egg to do something disastrous. I really didn’t want to have to clean the kitchen.

  “Gee, cheer up, you still have Malachi,” Moira said as I drew level with.

  “I do not!” I snapped back.

  “You say potato…”

  “I say shove it up your bum.” I hissed back, elbowing her out of the way, and walking into the kitchen to try to herd that cats that were my sisters. I loved them, but they could be tiring.

  Eejits, the pair of them. We had a business to run, and if they wanted to start world war three, then they could do it in Gran’s kitchen. She might have been more forgiving.

  ~

  “Don’t be stupid,” Gran snapped at my father. They both had a deep scowl on their face, both had their fists clenched around their knife and fork, and both were glaring at each other in a face-off that had been going on for over a minute.

  You had to love dinnertime at my house because the outbreak of World War three was always better confined to the time before dessert.

  “Fiona’s right,” Malachi said, stupidly getting involved in things that didn’t concern him.

  “Says you,” Dad turned a disapproving look onto the vampire, and you could see when the cogs in his mind clicked into place, the little nerve under his right eye started to twitch. “And why are you here? Who invited you? I know why these two are here,” he motioned to bat-boy and Split-personality, and I had to chuckle.

  “Maggie!” Moira said, and my eyes darted in her direction as I did some scowling of my own.

  “Excuse m…” I started, but the sound of my father spluttering like Moira’s exhaust pipe on a cold morning made me turn my attention toward him. His face looked red and puffy, and he couldn’t quite get the words out.

  “W-w-w..? Y-you and him?” Dad lifted his knife and pointed it at me and then Malachi. I did some spluttering of my own, but it was my brain that was spluttering, and I couldn’t get my words out either.

  “Really?” Eileen piped up. Her eyebrows were raised high on her forehead, and she had a smile like the Cheshire cat.

  “Are you insane?” I snapped at my sister. Then I turned my attention towards Moira and resisting the urge to zap her; I demanded an explanation with the death glare that I levied at her.

  “And we’re back to feeling very frosty and unfriendly in here,” Malachi said.

  “Only to you, cousin.” batboy offered him a smirk.

  “Explain!” I demanded when Moira stayed silent.

  “Yes — explain!” Dad chimed in.

  “Maggie invited him,” Moira lied, and I could tell she was lying because her little eyes were getting all squinty.

  “I invited him,” Gran said.

  “And why would you do that?” Dad asked.

  “I’m sitting right here,” Malachi said, and I suppose on some level you did have to feel sorry for the guy. But this was my family, and this was my kin’s idea of dinnertime, and if he was going to lurk around this family, then he had better get used to it. “Should I leave?”

  “Yes!” Moira and I said together.

  “I value democracy, and that was only two votes for me leaving,” Malachi offered back.

  “He’s been helpful,” Gran said, and I noted how her demeanor had suddenly changed from the standoff that she had my father and the death glare that she was generally offering around, to a more cagey attitude.

  “Well the cow was helpful in providing milk for the butter we’re having for dinner, did you want to invite the cow to dinner as well? Should I set another place?” Dad said.

  “Now you’re just being childish,” Gran said, lifting her chin and offering him that noble air of disdain.

  “There’s a shocker,” mother piped up. “Someone at this dinner table being childish, who would have thought it?”

  “So, who did kill the sheep?” Eileen piped up, and silence hung in the air around the table.

  Then everyone started talking at once, and life went back to normal. But I did have to wonder about Eileen’s question. Was it a random act by Fraser? Had Lachlan done it before he died? Neither man was on the island at the time, allegedly. Not that we would ever know any different now.

  I looked at Ross, and he was looking back at me. I think he was thinking the same thing. Maybe it was Ross. Maybe it was Malachi. Maybe there was another force at work somewhere on the Isle.

  I didn’t care. Not right then. Everyone that I did care about was around the table and safe, that may or may not include Malachi.

  I did know that I was tired and the sooner that dinner was over, the better because I was going to climb into my bed and sleep all night — at least, that was the hope. Because tomorrow was a new day, with new tourists, new cookies to bake, new muffins to make, more games of charades to play, and gossips to evade.

  I was kind of hoping that life could go back to being simple once more. But with a werewolf and two vampires at the dinner table, what were the odds?

  Not… The End.

  I hope you enjoyed the second book in the Witches of Skye series. Before you leave, please leave a review on Amazon. Thanks. M.L.

  Don’t forget to look out for book three.

  Love Lies Bleeding.

  If you enjoyed that, have you read the His Mate Seniors series?

  Here’s a little sneak peek for you;

  Chapter One

  “What are we doing?”

  Dorothy whispered once more, although, the way that the woman whispered was akin to setting off the fire alarm, and that was never a good thing inside a nursing home where the occupants could break a hip in the mad rush to the exits.

  Angela shushed her for the tenth time since she’d arrived in her room that night to take her on their field trip. Field trip – it was more like a well-planned, badly executed bid for freedom, but Angela had promised Dorothy that she’d take her to where her heart had always longed to be – before she died.

  Not that she feared the old woman was going to pop her clogs any time soon. No, Dorothy was one of those creaky gates; she always seemed to have a little something wrong with her, but never enough to completely finish her off – not that Angela wished her gone, she didn’t – who would she play cards with if Dorothy bit the big one?

  In truth, if either one of them met their ancestors the other would feel bereft. They had been each other’s company for the last few years, and they might have managed to hyper each other towards insanity at times, but they were all they had.

  “Escaping…” Angela reminded her, once they got by the big guy on the front desk that always seemed to have an air of a prison guard about him. As if he was there to make sure nobody mounted an escape from the sterile, disinfectant smelling, waiting to thy maker, hallways.

  Well, that was exactly what they were doing. Bidding for freedom.

  They were going on one last hurrah! One last girls holiday before they got too old to do it,
and why not?

  Angela was fed up with playing it safe and making sure that all of her medicines were in line for inspection. It was as if they thought that she was more forgetful than she actually was.

  She was sure that the mistrustful looks from the staff were half of the reason most of the inmates became forgetful and just gave up and relied on the staff to regiment their days and nights.

  Day trips out were something on a no-no, and she hated having the hairdresser come in and do her hair. She wasn’t too frail to go to the shop – or to cook the occasional meal, but heaven forbid they should trust her with a knife that wasn’t blunt, or a spoon that was bigger than mouth sized.

  It was bad enough that she had to mount an expedition with Dorothy to be able to celebrate and mark the dates of the Wheel of the Year, because lighting one candle would, apparently, bring an end to civilization as they knew it.

  Goddess only knew what they’d do if they ever found her Athame – probably think that she’d gone senile and was planning to murder every resident in their beds.

  She’d sort of regretted the decision that she’d made in the heat of the moment to give up her home and move into the residential facility.

  “Sounds good,” Dorothy whispered back, then there was the inevitable pause as she considered it. “Where are we going to escape to?”

  “Who cares?” Angela whispered back, as she waited for the guard to start his rounds and check on residents – looking for the ones who had fallen out of their bed and were calling for help – no doubt.

  “Can we get ice cream?”

  “Sure…” Angela turned and pressed her finger to her lips to shut her friend up. The last thing that she wanted was for their adventure to be over before they’d even made it out of the side entrance.

  The sound of soft shoes on the flooring and that squish, squish, squish, flared the annoyance within Angela and made her even more determined to mount their prison break.