Love Potions

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Between Erik’s very emotional declarations of crazy, her dead grandmother’s visit, and Charlotte tugging on her arm, Lydia didn’t have the energy to ask Jane what she was planning on planting. So, Lydia simply nodded. “Wherever you think is best.”

  Chapter Ten

  Erik’s throat was sore from a day full of singing and reciting ancient love poems—poems he hadn’t bothered thinking about for nearly four hundred years but now seemed to remember in full clarity. He didn’t care if he lost his voice. There was so much emotion inside him that it just had to come out somehow. With each second it built higher. He didn’t want food, or air, or sleep. He just wanted his love, his Lydia.

  He stared at Lydia’s house bathed in moonlight, the windows dark from within. Thinking of her sleeping, he smiled. She would be so beautiful, so soft and warm, so touchable. His feet carried him to the house as he stared up to the second floor, to the last window to go dark. Without thought he reached for the kitchen door. The barrier spell zapped him and sent him flying back into the yard. He landed with a hard thud. The smile began to fade. Why couldn’t he get to her? Why was the world keeping them apart? The wind stirred over him. If she didn’t come out soon, he’d have to blow the house down. There was no other way. It made perfect sense. No house, no barrier spell, nothing keeping him and Lydia apart.

  “Erik?”

  Erik had sensed his sister’s approach, but had chosen to ignore her. He stayed on his back, looking at Lydia’s window.

  “Erik?” Malina insisted. She moved slowly to look down at him, leaning over to block his view of the house. He grimaced and tried to shuffle to the side to regain his connection with Lydia’s window. Malina leaned again to force him to look at her. “Erik, I need you to drink something for me.”

  “Later,” he dismissed, again wiggling over the ground to look to where his beloved slept. He wanted to be ready when she awoke.

  “Da is going to brain you for ruining that shirt.” Malina again stepped in his way. “It’s not easy to find a tailor who sews barrel cuffs the way they used to. You know magickal repairs aren’t the same quality as the real thing.”

  Erik gave a small growl and waved his arm. The wind burst from the trees to knock Malina to the side. She skidded across the yard, her arms flailing. Around him, the grass died in the general shape of his body. He felt his powers suck the life from the blades.

  “Erik,” Malina warned, her accent slipping in her irritation. “I need ya to stop that, laddie. I have something for ya to drink and ya are gonna to drink it.”

  Erik pushed to his feet and growled at her. Why was she still talking? He lifted his hand to magickally toss her away from him so he could stare at Lydia’s window.

  Malina lifted her arms, making her expression less fierce. In a rush, she said, “Lydia wants you to.”

  Instantly, he dropped his arms and smiled. “Why didn’t ya say so?”

  “I thought you knew?” It was more of a question than a statement.

  Erik held out his hand, turning his attention back up to the window. He yelled, “Lydia, my sweet tulip, I drink this for ya!”

  The curtain stirred. She’d heard him. His grin widened. Not paying attention to what his sister handed him, he tossed back the contents of the vial. He glanced at Malina only long enough to give the vial back to her. Malina waved up at Lydia and stepped back, watching him. Erik’s body tingled and he shivered violently. His senses became stronger. The air smelled of dead grass and picked lavender. Everywhere he looked became brighter, as if someone turned a flashlight on inside his eyes. Then the sensation was gone. He smiled up at the window.

  “I drank it for ya, my ginger blossom, I drank it!” Erik yelled as loud as he could, trying to let Lydia see all the love he felt inside him.

  “Shite.” Malina made a weak noise beside him. “Bloody hell, Da is going to kill me for this.” The faint sound of a cellphone was followed by his sister, saying, “Um, hi, Da, I’m going to need you to come out to Wisconsin earlier than planned. There’s a slight situation—no, no, no emergency, just hurry.” She paused moving in a wide arc around him to study his face. “Hurry really fast.”

  …

  What? No! Where was Malina going? Why wasn’t she taking Erik with her?

  Lydia tapped frantically on the window to get Malina’s attention. Erik waved, as if she couldn’t see him hopping up and down on her lawn. Malina looked up at her and gave a helpless shrug as she hung up her cellphone and continued to back away toward the mansion.

  Lydia opened her window and yelled through the screen, “Don’t go!”

  “I am here, my love!” Erik called.

  “Shut up, Sir Galahad,” she told him, irritated. Then, pressing her face to the screen, she said, “Malina, get back here right now. Undo this.”

  “I will get her for ya, my dear heart.” Erik instantly charged at his sister.

  Malina screamed in surprise at the aggressive attack. She threw a ball of crackling light at him. It hit his arm, knocking his shoulder back and sending tiny flashes of lightning down his arm to immobilize his hand. He kept advancing on his sister with single-minded purpose.

  Lydia knew he tried to please her so she said, “Erik, stop.”

  He didn’t listen.

  “Um, ah, dear heart, stop. I…” She frowned and closed her eyes tight. “I love you, ah, crazy dear, um, heart guy.”

  He turned to the house and lifted his arms to her like an actor in a Shakespearean play. One of his hands fell limp at the wrist. Lydia grimaced. Malina was safe from his attack.

  “I’ll be back,” Malina shouted as she disappeared.

  “We will be one, my mountain bearberry,” Erik assured her. “Soon, very soon. We are like the rare twinflower in the pinewoods, two blossoms to one vine.”

  Lydia quickly closed the window and backed away. What the heck was a mountain bearberry? Seconds later a soft blue light shone around the house as Erik tried to breach the barrier. She took a deep breath. Then, the sound of shuffling came from below. Panicked, Lydia grabbed a nearby brass lamp and held it like a weapon. She wasn’t sure if Erik would try to harm her with his affections or would simple sonnet her to death. These types of situations never seemed to end well in horror-suspense type movies. Her heart began to thump wildly with fear. Her mind raced with outrageous ideas as anxiety overtook her thoughts. What if he tried to lock her in the mansion’s basement as some kind of possession? He did say they would be one. His clear obsession could cause him to try to eat her so they could join essences and then he’d put her on like a—

  “Lyd?” Charlotte whispered.

  Lydia gasped sharply in surprise and dropped the lamp. The bulb broke. She hopped over the broken glass and hurried down the hall. Seeing Charlotte at the bottom of the stairs she ran to her and wrapped her arms around her. “I’m so glad it’s you.”

  Charlotte shivered violently and was cold to the touch.

  Lydia pulled back and grabbed her face. She turned her friend’s eyes to better see them in the dim moonlight streaming through the window. “What happened?”

  “Did…?” Charlotte blinked. “Did you see?”

  “Malina and Erik fighting?” Lydia asked.

  “It’s real. Magick is real.” Charlotte blinked. “You said it was, but spells are one thing. They…” She lifted her hand to hold an imaginary light ball and gestured a weak throw.

  “Yes.” Lydia hugged Charlotte, leading her to the couch. Grabbing a throw blanket, she wrapped it around the woman’s shoulders and pulled her close. “It’s okay. We’re safe in here.”

  “Your house was glowing blue. Why is your house glowing blue?” Charlotte grabbed Lydia’s arm tight and shook it insistently.

  “That’s how I know we’re safe. It’s Gramma’s barrier spell. He can’t get in unless I invite him.”

  “Like a vampire,” Charlotte made a weak, hysterical noise. “Great. Maybe we should throw garlic cloves at him.”

  Lydia didn’t answer. He
r grandmother always said myths were based in reality. It’s possible barrier spells were how the Victorians really kept out magickal creatures.

  “Nothing is ever going to be normal again, is it?” Charlotte whispered. “How can we do anything anymore, knowing what we know? Vampires? Warlocks? What else? We can’t leave the house.”

  Lydia didn’t have an answer for her. The barrier again lit up as Erik tried to get inside. Charlotte made a small squeak of fear and hid her face in the couch. Lydia stayed beside her, praying that it would soon be over.

  …

  “Why hasn’t anyone called the police?” Charlotte asked. “Someone had to of seen the lights flashing last night. At the very least a UFO hunter should have shown up with a video camera.” Then stiffening, she whispered, “Do you think UFOs are real too?”

  “I don’t think you can see the barrier lights unless you know magick is real. It must be some kind of protection clause or something.” Lydia ignored the last question. She’d just seen her dead grandmother and had a lovesick warlock on her lawn. The last thing she needed was to worry about extraterrestrial probing.

  “And the magick hand ball?” Charlotte made a weak throwing gesture.

  “This is my fault. I mixed the potion and gave it to him. I trusted Malina. I can’t call the police. The phone lines stopped working yesterday after you left and the Internet is down. Besides, Sheriff Johnson is too nice of a man. He won’t be able to help, and Erik is not himself right now. You saw what he started to do to his sister. No, right now, we just stay inside and wait it out.”

  Trusting Malina a second time wasn’t exactly her best plan, but it was the only one she had.

  Lightning flashed overhead and several seconds later thunder cracked. Guilt filled her. Even as she feared what Erik might do, feared the crazed look on his face, she knew it was her fault this was happening. She should never have dabbled in what she didn’t understand.

  “You don’t have to stay, Charlotte. I’ll understand if you want to go home.”

  “I’m not leaving you.” Charlotte slowly walked to the stove and whispered. “Gramma Annabelle? Are you here?”

  “I’ve been trying to talk to her all night. She won’t appear, and I don’t know how to make her.” Lydia glanced down at the basement.

  As if reading her thoughts, Charlotte inquired, “Moonshine?”

  “I don’t know if that will work, and I really don’t want to be drunk right now.” Then turning to the curtains, she hesitated before yanking them off the window. The rod broke as they crashed to the floor. “Let’s try redecorating. Remodeling is supposed to stir spirits because it changes the environment.”

  “Doesn’t that mean knocking down walls and major renovations?” Charlotte asked.

  “Do you have a better plan?” Lydia pushed the kitchen table across the floor, knocking the chairs aside in her haste.

  The women continued to pull the curtains off the windows and push furniture haphazardly around the house to change the layout. Lotion bottles were swept off the display shelf onto the floor—not that there was much left after Malina bought the majority of her stock. Breathing hard, they stopped and looked around the mess they had made of the living room and kitchen. Outside the storm grew worse. They watched, listened, smelled, but there was no sign of Annabelle.

  “Fine, go grab the moonshine,” Lydia said, desperate. If anyone knew what to do about Erik, her grandmother would. “If anything will séance her back, it will be that stuff. That, or drinking it will kill us first.”

  “You’re coming with me,” Charlotte said. “I’m not going in the basement alone.”

  Lydia glanced outside. Erik stood in front of the curtain-less window, looking in. She gasped and jumped back. He frowned at them and lightning streaked across the sky followed almost instantly be thunder. Violent storm clouds rolled over the landscape, darkening the day.

  “Is he doing that?” Charlotte tried to tug Lydia through the mess they’d made. She tripped, falling over the arm of an inconveniently placed chair. “What’s happening to his face?”

  Lydia inhaled deep breaths. Lightning flashed but she saw headlights. She stiffened, unable to move. A rush of memories flooded over her, as the man in the window changed. Erik’s eyes glinted with an inner light. His nose thickened and spread. Fur sprouted over his features. His mouth pulled forward, making room for the long, deadly fangs stretching from his gums. His hands lifted, as if it would touch the glass but held back. Claws stretched from fattening fingertips. Slowly, the sharp points tapped forward, striking the blue glowing barrier with steady thumps.

  “What…the fuck…is that?” Charlotte panted. “Where’s Gramma’s gun?”

  Lydia had seen this before. Is this why they erased her memory? Because she saw Erik change? She tried to step closer, but her body shook too forcefully. His eyes had become dark, feral pits. This was not the Erik she knew. Nothing about this creature reminded her of the man.

  “I don’t have any bullets,” Lydia said. She never felt the need to use the old shotgun and it sat collecting dust in the attic.

  The sky had become dark and, had she not seen it change for herself, she would have thought it evening. Her yard light turned on, the motion sensor activated on the side of the home. A soft glow radiated around the edge of the house and fell over Erik’s changed face. The sound of wind whined through the windows and rattled pieces of the house’s exterior. Though old, the Victorian was well maintained. The windows did not normally leak and the house did not rattle in storms. Another crack sounded and she saw a heavy tree limb fall behind him and roll toward her home. Leaves fiercely danced on the trees before falling like snowflakes in a blizzard toward Erik. The window panes vibrated. Erik’s hair blew around his head in violent patterns. The tree limb slammed against the house’s siding causing her to jump at the loud thud.

  Lydia and Charlotte screamed in unison, huddling together against the wall.

  “I should have made you leave,” Lydia said, though she was glad she wasn’t alone.

  Charlotte screamed again as another limb hit the house. “He’s trying to tear it down.”

  Lydia looked at her home, the inside destroyed, the outside being pummeled by magick. Tears slid down her face. This couldn’t be real. How could it be real?

  “He doesn’t want the house. He wants me.” Lydia whispered.

  “What?” Charlotte cried, unable to hear her.

  Lydia turned to her friend and pushed her slightly away. Yelling over the now high whine and heavy slams from outside, she said, “I love you!”

  “What?” Charlotte reached to cover her ears to indicate she didn’t understand.

  “Get to the basement.” Lydia took the moment to run. Charlotte removed her hands from her ears and tried to grab her, but Lydia hurried to the kitchen door before her friend could stop her. Her heart beat heavily. This was her doing. Charlotte was not part of it.

  She turned the knob on the kitchen door. The wind whipped it open, ripping it out of her hand. The screen door was gone, lost to the storm.

  “Lydia, no,” Charlotte yelled. She turned to see her friend gripping the interior doorframe as she tried to enter from the living room. A gust of wind blew everything from the counter onto the floor. She heard the ceramic jars shatter. Charlotte turned her head into her arms as pieces flew past her.

  “Erik?” Lydia called, not sure he’d be able to hear him. “Stop. I’m coming out.”

  She used the doorframe to pull herself out of the house. Her heart felt as if it was stuck in her throat. She tried to breath but it was hard. The wind hit her body, forcing her up against the side of the house. The newly planted bushes were uprooted. One went rolling away. The other clung to the earth but flapped to the side.

  “Erik?” she called again. Her shirt snagged on a displaced nail. She felt the jagged metal cut into her skin. Lightning hit again, and she saw the outline of a giant branch rolling straight for her. Lydia screamed, but running in this weather was
impossible. Her limbs felt like they were in sludge. She curled onto the ground and covered her head, braced for impact.

  It never came. She blinked, looking up to see Erik standing over her, his hand stretched behind him to hold the heavy tree back without actually touching it. He slid his arm to the side, magickally tossing the branch away from them. It rolled away down the hillside.

  The wind calmed by small degrees, but still whipped heavily around her and pushed her tears back into her hair to keep them from falling down her cheeks. She kept her back to the house. His dark eyes watched her intensely. He breathed hard, like an animal about to attack.

  “Erik, this isn’t you,” Lydia said. She wasn’t sure he could hear her over the elements but fear kept her voice soft and she barely managed to get the trembling words out. “Erik, please, stop.”

  The wind instantly died down though the storm clouds remained. A few drops of rain sprinkled from the sky. Erik didn’t move.

  “Erik, it’s okay. I’m here. It’s okay.” She tried to touch his chest but he twitched, and she stopped with her hand in midair. “Try to calm down.”

  The rain fell harder.

  “You’re under a spell. This isn’t you.” She kept her eyes on his, hoping Charlotte would have the sense to stay inside. She forced her words to be soothing and calm. “You’ve been waiting for me to come out. I’m here.”

  His clawed hand lifted toward her face. She flinched, expecting him to strike. He didn’t. Instead, he touched the sideways trail of her tears along her temple. The rain hit harder still, thundering against the ground. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought she saw concern in his eyes. They lightened by the tiniest degree. She took a deep breath, on guard, but suspecting that he didn’t want to hurt her. He tilted his head and stroked her face. She formed a shaky smile and nodded gently.

  “Get away from him lassie. Run!” Lydia didn’t recognize the voice but the Scottish accent gave her a few clues.

  Erik’s eyes darkened once more, and he growled. He turned, shielding her with his body as he pressed his back toward her. She was forced to remain against the house. His arms spread, as if protecting her from whoever yelled.