“Lydia, invite me in!” Erik’s voice and face had changed. No longer did he look like a man, but some kind of mythical beast.
“This isn’t happening,” she whimpered, over and over. Her hand shook so badly she kept pressing the wrong buttons and had to hang up to start again. “This isn’t happening.”
“Lydia!” Erik growled.
Lydia held the phone and stretched the cord as she crept closer to the window to see what was happening. She jolted in fear, trying not to look at his shockingly demonic appearance. Darkness swirled from his pupil to fill the whites of his eyes with black. The ridge above his nose had thickened, leading to long, sharp fangs that glinted in the combination of headlights and moonlight. He was the thing of nightmares—a demon, part cat, part man. The wind blew his kilt and she saw that his erection had lengthened, his cock so long and impossibly thick it was more weapon than a tool of pleasure. She hugged her body, even now tasting him in her mouth.
What was he doing to her? Who was he? What was he?
She felt drained, as if that energy blast she’d shot at him had sapped her reserves of strength completely. Lydia stumbled back. Her legs weakened and she dropped the phone, unable to hold on any longer. A tear slipped over her cheek. She’d never been so scared in her life. Falling to the floor, she drooped against the cabinets. It was all she could to keep her eyes open.
“Gramma?” The smell of lilies surrounded her, giving some comfort. Erik stopped hitting the house, and she could no longer see him from where she slumped. “Is that really you?”
There was no answer.
“What’s going on, Gramma?” Lydia tried to fight the looming darkness, but the pull of oblivion became too strong. “What is he?”
…
Erik felt the beast inside him raging to the surface. With the last shred of common sense he possessed, he pulled away from Lydia’s window. He knew his shifted appearance frightened her, but he couldn’t help it. When she took his powers, she’d unleashed the hold he had on the animal within. Primal and unthinking, the creature he could become acted on pure instinct. It ate, drank, fought, fucked, whatever it needed to do to fulfill a desire.
It had taken a mortal lifetime for him to learn to control the beast and in short span she’d nearly broken all the barriers. Had that been all, there would have been a chance the creature would stay dormant. But, he sensed something evil lurking outside her house the second he stepped out of the car. It was an old evil whose very presence called the protective instinct forth.
He’d tried to illuminate the forest, to see who lurked in the shadows, but Lydia’s uncontrolled use of his power had thrown him aside and stopped him. His muscles ached from his hard landing. Lydia had done it again. She sucked his power from him—quite literally. It wasn’t her fault. They weren’t her powers to control. Without direction, they simply became an extension of her emotions.
“Erik?” Euann yelled, running full tilt down the hill.
“Aye,” Erik growled, recognizing the hoarse tone of his voice as that belonging to his shifted form. The beast was restless.
“What’s happened? I felt a disturbance,” Euann demanded before suddenly stopping. His brown hair blew wildly around his face. His dark eyes flashed with a golden light and he took a deep, long breath. Quietly, he whispered, “A lidérc?”
“Aye.” Erik nodded grimly, the deduction making sense. He would have determined as much had he been able to focus. The lidérc were nasty creatures who feasted on the emotional energy of their victims. In myth, they took many forms—man, woman, animal—but in truth they were more like shadows and light.
“There can’t be that many of them left after the Hungary exterminations. Is it inside Lydia?”
“No,” Erik shook his head, looking at the side door to her home. His heart squeezed with fear, possession, longing. The beast in him wanted to conquer, but thankfully the protection spell on the house was strong. To pass through the door, he’d have to either be invited or strip himself of his magick for all eternity. “Lydia used my power and called the winds. I can’t get a good scent.”
“Is she…?”
“Safe,” Erik said. “I do not think she’ll be coming out of that house any time soon.”
Euann quirked a brow. “Not if she saw ya like that.”
Erik frowned. He knew well enough how he looked.
Euann glanced over Erik’s face before looking down. Giving a sardonic laugh, he said, “I mean, your legs never did look good in a short kilt.”
“Ach.” Erik’s scowl deepened. His brother might appear to be taking the situation lightly, but Erik knew better. In a time of need, he’d be glad to have anyone of his siblings by his side. “Help me put our own protection spell around this place. If magick goes in or out, we’ll know it. After, we’ll get to work on securing MacGregor Estate with a perimeter.”
“Ya want me to include this house in our perimeter, as well?”
“Aye,” Erik said, torn between the need to find a way past Lydia’s threshold and what he had to do. He struggled with the beast, using most of his strength to keep from shifting fully and running about the hillside like a feral animal. “Might as well. We’ll most likely buy this property from her when Da gets here.”
“We should get some of these dead flowers out of here.” Euann studied alongside the house, ever vigilant to signs that magick had been used. “The flowerbed looks like a plague hit it.”
Erik nodded and continued to stare at Lydia’s kitchen door. Every part of him wanted to pound against the barrier and yell until she let him in. He took a step toward it.
“Erik,” Euann said, his voice lowered with concern. “That’s no way to win a lass. Come on. Let’s just keep her safe until we know what we’re dealing with.”
“Aye.” Erik nodded. Euann was right.
Calling forth the wind from inside her home, Erik forced the slightly opened windows of her kitchen to shut and latch. Just that little act took a lot of energy. He might not get his magick through her barrier, but he could propel the wind. Fortunately, he could sense no one was in the house with her. After the power surge she threw at him, it was no surprise she was drained enough to pass out. Undoubtedly, she’d be sore the next morning from being on the kitchen floor, but he couldn’t get to her to carry her to a bed.
“Erik,” his brother insisted. “I know it’s hard, but until we can bind your beast, ya must try to focus on something other than that lady. Don’t worry. We’ll make her forget what she saw. It will be like tonight never happened.”
“Aye, that we must.” Erik clasped his brother’s shoulder. “Go get what we need. I’ll wait here until ya come back. I doubt the lidérc will return tonight. I don’t feel it anymore.”
Chapter Six
Lydia moaned, smacking her dry lips as she pushed herself up from the kitchen floor. Blinking, she looked around the room, trying to remember how she got there. Her head throbbed and her entire body ached as if she’d just run a marathon before getting beaten up by a gang of bikers.
“What the…?” she mumbled, gingerly touching the side of her face.
How did she get on the floor? She glanced around the room. Why was she wearing a dress? This didn’t make sense. She never wore dresses.
She pushed her palm against her temple and slowly ambled to her feet with a groan. The world spun, and she wondered if maybe Charlotte had brought over a bottle of tequila again. Last time they’d gotten so drunk they’d somehow fallen asleep in the empty bathtub—fully clothed and facing opposite ways. Still, it had been cramped.
“Charlotte?” Lydia called, her voice hoarse. “Char, are you there? What the hell happened?”
A thought tried to unfurl in her mind. It was right on the edge of her consciousness, but she couldn’t figure out what it tried to show her. Disoriented and a little creeped out, Lydia put on a pot of coffee in hopes a strong brew would clear her mind. As she waited for it to percolate, she hiked upstairs to take a quick shower.
The warm water didn’t help. She was still confused.
Feeling the need for comfort, Lydia slid on a pair of stretchy gray exercise pants with a black stripe down the side and a knit tank top. She pulled her wet hair to the nape of her neck, twisting it up into a sloppy bun. It wasn’t like she would have company today, and she really needed to replenish her lotion supply. Lavender mint and rosemary were both completely out of stock. And, after the lily lotion exploded all over her kitchen, she might need to redo that as well. Though, how she could have grabbed the lily lotion instead of an unscented base was beyond her.
Lilies. Gramma Annabelle.
Lydia stopped half way down the stairs. There was something she was supposed to be remembering. What was it? The lotion had been everywhere in the kitchen. Charlotte was there and they cleaned it up. Wait, no. Erik had come by.
Shivers instantly racked her spine. Mm, Erik. Just thinking about him made her so hot she could barely stand it.
“He asked me out,” Lydia said, smiling slightly. That is why she’d been in the dress. Her smile fell. Why couldn’t she remember the date ending? She remembered the restaurant and the drive home. He’d been charming and so damned sexy she could barely take her eyes off his bare legs. The details were fuzzy, fragmented, like someone had taken an eraser to her brain and quickly swiped it, leaving behind crumbs.
She’d been hot for him in the car, so aroused she contemplated inviting him in for the night. The man was a walking aphrodisiac. Even now she was wet between the thighs and her body temperature rose above normal.
The rest of the date was a blank. They pulled up in front of her house. She thanked him for the date. He asked her if he could come in. And she said…
Lydia frowned. What had she said? By the gnawing insistence of unfilled desires, it was clear that they’d not had sex. A man Erik’s size would’ve left her more than a little sore. Did he come in? Did she invite him and he’d refuse? Did she send him on his way?
“Gramma, I know I said I wanted nothing to do with the beyond the grave stuff you talked about, but if you can hear me, I could use a little help.” She continued down the stairs. “Something strange is going on here and for once it’s not our family.”
…
“I don’t know what to tell you, Lyd,” Sheriff Johnson said, staring at the oblong patch of dead grass leading out from her door across the yard. His salt and pepper black hair was cut short and bore the line of the cowboy hat he carried in his hands. A displaced Southerner, he had a fair and evenhanded approach that drove some of the citizens a little crazy, especially Mrs. Callister who—he’d once let slip—called his office nearly daily to lodge complaints. “I’m guessing someone sprayed your lawn with weed kill.”
Lydia stayed close to her front door. She crossed her arms over her stomach and hugged her waist. She gestured her finger toward the empty flower bed. “Whoever it was dug up all my flowers. Even Gramma Annabelle’s rose bushes. Who steals rose bushes?”
“And you didn’t hear or see anything?”
Lydia thought of waking that morning on the kitchen floor. “No, I don’t remember anything unusual. Do you think it’s the same people who’ve been vandalizing the other properties?”
“We’re pretty sure those are just kids trying to stick their noses up at authority,” Sheriff Johnson answered. “Nothing is missing besides the plants?”
“Not that I’ve seen. I checked the valuables. I don’t think anyone was in the house.” She felt somewhat safer with the police cruiser in her driveway.
“Did you get in a fight with anyone lately?”
Lydia shook her head in denial.
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t have.” He smiled kindly at her. “Honestly, there’s not much we can do about this without more to go on, but I’ll write up a report if you want to make an insurance claim for damages. I’m sorry about your grandmother’s roses.”
“Don’t be. I think she hated those things. She’d always curse at the thorns whenever she had to prune them back.”
“I always liked your grandmother. She was a spunky thing. When I moved here, oh, forty years back, she was the first person to give me a genuine welcome to office.”
“She always liked you, too, sheriff. Sorry to have to call you out here for this.” She went to the kitchen door and leaned inside to grab a bag off the counter. “I have your wife’s order here if you’d like to take it with you. It’ll save her a trip.”
“Did she order the vanilla tea?” He took the gift bag and peeked inside.
“I might have slipped a few boxes in for her.” She smiled, knowing the vanilla tea would never make it past the police station.
“You’re one of the good ones.” He smiled as he slipped on his hat and nodded at her. “Ma’am.”
“Thank you, sheriff.” Lydia turned her attention to her half-dead yard and waited until Sheriff Johnson was turned around and heading on his way. Memories tried to tug at her when she saw the lawn, but there was nothing beyond a wall of confusion.
…
“Malina, I’m glad ya could come.” Erik rushed to his sister as she strode through the front door.
Pulling sunglasses from her face, she glanced around the foyer and nodded. “This will do nicely for the family.” Just like all the MacGregors she had dark hair and eyes. At the moment they were outlined in dark blue to match the streaks she’d dyed into her long bangs. However, she might look and act like a MacGregor, but her voice lacked the stronger accent of her brothers. When she was a child she’d been sent to England for refinement and now, even after hundreds of years, she sounded more Brit than Scot—unless her temper was raised or she was being playful. The jeans and T-shirt might have appeared casual, but Erik knew they were designer and that his sister’s wardrobe would have cost the family a small fortune if not for Malina’s power to materialize objects. Turning to her oldest brother, Malina eyed him warily. “Aye. I came because you asked, but don’t think I don’t know when something’s up.”
“Can’t we miss our little sister?” Erik shot her a wide grin.
“That charming smile won’t work on me, so you best just tell me why it is I had to leave New York like the city was burning to the ground.” She thrust her backpack at him and he set it on the floor. “So help me if it’s to help get this house in order, I’ll brain you. I did the houses last century.” She frowned, eyeing the dusty ceilings. “You haven’t even started the clean. What are you boys up to?”
“Lassie,” Erik wheedled, grinning wider.
“I knew it!” she growled. “Da told you to get me away from the city. This always happens. I meet a nice guy who wants to take me out and in rush the MacGregor men, protecting my maidenhead like it was some prize. Bloody hell, Erik. Why do you think I left the family house in the first place?”
Erik furrowed his brow in confusion. “We always thought ya lost that thing to Lord Barrison back in the seventeen hundreds.”
“Oh, you would have to mention him, wouldn’t you?” Malina wrinkled up her face and hit him in the arm. Then, giving him a big hug, she said, “And I’ve missed ya too, laddie.”
Erik lifted her off the ground and kissed her on the forehead. Unlike the men in her family, she was tiny and petite like their mother. It often made her brothers even more protective of her especially in the old days when women tended to act like delicate flowers. Her beauty reminded them of a fragile china doll, even if she insisted she could kick ass like the best of them. He knew she sometimes resented their overbearing protectiveness over the centuries. But she was a woman, in spite of being one powerful warlock, and it was a man’s duty to protect the women of his clan. Centuries might have passed but that didn’t change biological facts.
“You better have an adventure for me or I’m leaving,” Malina warned.
He turned serious, as he set her down. “How about a lidérc? Adventure enough for ya?”
“A lidérc? Here? And you called me, not Niall or Rory?” Malina grinned, as to
say, Finally!
“It isn’t a laughing matter.”
“Who’s laughing? I’m simply excited you called me.” Malina bounced on the tips of her toes, looking like a little girl who just received her dream pony. “You’re finally going to let me fight alongside you after all these—”
Erik lifted up his hand. Her expression fell.
“What?” she demanded. “Erik, I know what I’m doing. Do you think I never get into trouble in New York? I can take down ten grown men if I have to.”
“I called ya because I need a woman to take care of some womanlike things.” Then, grimacing, he added, “We’ll discuss what you’re doing in New York later.”
“Oh!” She growled, reaching to pick up her backpack. “I knew it. Ya want me to decorate while ya play ‘hunt the lidérc’.”
Erik whirled past her with the aid of his magick, blocking the door. “Easy now. Take that Scot out of your voice, English Rose.”
“I willna hesitate to cast ya into another dimension, laddie,” she warned. Erik swallowed. He knew she could do it. Once she sent their brother Kenneth to a spirit realm. It had taken him months to find his way back. “Call me an English Rose again, I dare ya.”
“Her name is Lydia, and she’s my inthrall.” He drew his eyes away, unable to meet Malina’s probing gaze. “Perhaps more.”
“More?” She dropped her bag. Her tone softened, as did her expression. He felt the heat of her anger dissipating.
“I need ya to befriend her.” Erik took a deep breath. “She keeps taking my powers every time I’m near her. I can’t protect her and she won’t trust me after…”
“After?”
“I had to erase her memory.” He inhaled a deep breath. “And there were things in that memory. The lidérc was outside her home so I fear he’s already set his sights on her.”
“Aye, that is serious. If she’s your inthrall and he uses his powers to drain her of yours.” Malina swallowed, worried. “Aye, this is bad. For both of you.”
Love Potions Page 8
