Love Potions

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Erik wasn’t sure what to believe. What if his sister was wrong? What if he loved Lydia, but she could never forgive him for what he’d done? What if she couldn’t accept him? Perhaps their da was right. They should erase him from her mind and send her on her way.

  “And perhaps ya did nothing wrong,” Erik disagreed. “Perhaps the lidérc has already cast a spell over her, and it interfered with your prank.”

  “You think that is how your binding slipped? She pulled it from you? Is that why your beast didn’t hurt her? She was pulling your power out of you?” Malina frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that. I wanted it so much be love.”

  Erik wanted it to be love too, but he couldn’t trust that what he was feeling wasn’t the residual effects of the love potion gone wrong. “I’ll shower first and then go down the hill to see the damage I’ve done. Then I’ll decide how best to handle Lydia.”

  …

  “Oh, did the meteorologists get it wrong, Chuck. In what was supposed to be a mild sunny day was hit by a freak storm over the middle of Wisconsin. Several towns are reporting wind damage. Insurance companies expect well over an estimated million dollars’ worth of small damage claims will be filed within the next week.”

  Charlotte made a weak noise as she turned off the news. She rubbed her forehead. “I can’t believe I was passed out for the entire thing.”

  Lydia hated lying. “Yeah, you scared the crap out of me when that branch hit you. Dr. West’s office said to keep an eye on you.”

  “That’s so strange they didn’t want me to come in and get scanned or something.” Charlotte felt the back of her head. “I don’t feel any bumps.”

  “That’s why they didn’t say to bring you in. They said the light knock was probably nothing. You did drink a lot the night before at the mansion, and you didn’t really have much to eat.” Lydia couldn’t look at her. Instead, she busied herself picking up the curtains and rods off the floor. She attempted to rehang them the best she could but some of the rods were broken and would have to be replaced.

  “Must have been one hell of a wind storm to blow the furniture around like this. You’re lucky the windows aren’t broken.” Charlotte pushed the couch back to where it belonged. “You want to know something strange. I could have sworn we saw Gramma Annabelle’s ghost in the kitchen stirring a lotion batch.”

  Lydia stiffened and was unable to come up with a quick enough lie for that one.

  “You mean that part was true?” Charlotte demanded, smiling. She hurried to the kitchen to look in as if Annabelle would still be there. “How awesome is that!”

  “I think it was part of the reason you passed out. I didn’t want to say anything in case you didn’t remember.”

  Charlotte looked down at the mess. A small branch was on the floor. She tried to reason what might have happened. “And that’s when the branch flew in and hit me?”

  “Um, yeah,” Lydia nodded.

  “We’re lucky to be alive,” Charlotte said. “I’ll bet that’s why Gramma appeared. She wanted to warn us the storm was coming. Heck, even the weather guys didn’t get it right on television.”

  “Yeah.” Lydia nodded again, letting Charlotte create her own timeline. She felt guilty for letting the MacGregors mess with her friend’s memories, but it was too late to change now. She’d seen how scared Charlotte had been.

  “Oh, hey, look, it’s Erik.” Charlotte hurried out the door before Lydia could stop her. She rushed behind her, ready to pull her back behind the protective barrier if she needed to. “Hey, Erik. Crazy storm, right? Did you all suffer much damage?”

  “No,” Erik said, sounding completely sane. He gave a hesitant look to Lydia before saying to Charlotte. “I just came down to make sure ya ladies were unharmed.”

  “Aw, that’s so sweet of you.” Charlotte turned, winking at Lydia so Erik couldn’t see the playful teasing. She pursed her lips in a kiss. Then, when Lydia didn’t speak, she turned back and said, “We’re unharmed, but the house took quite a beating. I was actually on my way out to check if there was any damage to my apartment. Maybe, if you’re feeling charitable, you and your brothers wouldn’t mind helping Lyd haul these branches down so the sanitation department can grab them from the curb when they do clean up. The city is usually pretty good about that after a bad storm.”

  “Of course,” Erik agreed. “We’d be happy to help.”

  Charlotte turned again to Lydia and hugged her, whispering, “A bunch of sexy men in kilts lifting heavy tree branches? I’ll be back later for the show. And we’ll talk more about that Gramma thing later, too. That is so awesome. A ghost. I’ll find some ghost hunting equipment or a spirit board so we can try to communicate with her.”

  Charlotte took off down the hill, her steps light.

  “It’s good to see she is well,” Erik said.

  Lydia crossed her arms over her chest. “Her mind’s been erased. I’m not sure that classifies as well.”

  “I just meant it could have gone so much worse,” he explained.

  “Worse?” She gave a disbelieving nod and looked at her damaged home. “My garden is gone so I have no herbs to work with to make product so I can make money to pay for repairs. My insurance deductible is insane, if they’ll even cover this kind of thing. I’m not sure my policy covers magickal storms and crazy boyfriends.”

  “Boyfriend?” He smiled slightly, his eyes widening playfully as if encouraging her to return the look.

  “What would you call it? Manfriend?” Lydia gestured helplessly. His grin widened. Damn, but he was sexy even as she tried to keep emotional distance between them. “Listen, I know this is partially my fault. I should never have dabbled in whatever this was, and I take responsibility for…” She looked around her battered yard and stepped out of the kitchen doorway. “You can rest assured I’ll not be doing anything like this again. Ever. I’m done with magick.”

  “Done?” He tried to close some of the distance between them but her look must have stopped him.

  “Yes, done.” She sighed. “I can’t do this Erik. I should have stopped us before we even started. I want to go back to making my lotions and living like a hermit. The most magick I want is the town whispering about how my grandmother was the ‘witch on the hill’ and that’s it.”

  “Ya want me to erase myself from your thoughts?”

  Lydia shook her head in denial. Yes, that would make things easier but she didn’t want to forget him. “No, I don’t want anyone else messing with my brain. Or Charlotte’s brain. Ever again.”

  “We can buy this house,” he offered. “We have property all over the country. Wherever ya would like to go, we’ll set ya up. It’s the least I can do.”

  “No. I’m not asking for anything. This is my home, my grandmother’s home. It’s not for sale, and I can take care of myself.”

  He glanced around before stopping to stare at where he’d drawn the large heart in lavender. The heart was no longer there, having been blown away. “I remember…that was your garden I picked?”

  She nodded. “Technically I was trespassing, so I guess I can’t really complain that you picked it. You had every right. It was on your land.”

  “I did not mean to upset your life like this,” he said, the words quiet and a little sad.

  “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for reordering shrubs planted after I stole your powers and killed my roses. It was very thoughtful though it wasn’t entirely your fault.”

  He frowned. “I didn’t order shrubs.”

  “You were a little out of it. You’d just picked the garden.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “It doesn’t matter. Please don’t reorder the plants. I’m thinking of doing something different here anyway. It’s time I redecorated and made a few changes. It’s what my Gramma would want.”

  “I didn’t mean to harm your livelihood or wreck your home. I’m sorry, Lydia. I just wanted to get to know ya. I like ya.”

  “I like you too, Erik, but let’s face facts. We’re too dif
ferent.” It took all of her control to keep her expression calm. Inside tiny voices were yelling at her, trying to shut her up. She told herself if she just got through this, didn’t waver, didn’t give in to his beautifully pleading eyes or his charming ways, then the hard part would be over. “We might be neighbors, but I don’t see our paths crossing. We live such different lives.”

  “If this is what ya wish?” He looked as if he might cross to her and touch her. She couldn’t let him. One touch and she’d be lost. The burn of tears threatened her eyes, she held them back.

  “It is.” She nodded.

  “Then, I’ll…” He looked up the hill and then down. “I’ll go. But I would like to help ya clean up the mess. It’s the least I can do after calling the winds. Neighbors can do that for neighbors, right?”

  She wasn’t that foolish. There was no way she was lifting the giant uprooted trees or oversized branches scattered all over the place. And she sure as heck wasn’t going to try wielding a chainsaw to cut them. One miscalculated swing of the heavy power tool and she’d take off her own legs. “I’d appreciate that. Although, I do have a question.”

  “Aye?”

  “How is it no one from town saw all the magick sparks and lights going on up here? I expected a flood of people and not one person has come up. Well, Sheriff Johnson made the rounds, but he was just checking to make sure everyone was all right.”

  “We cast protective spells around our homes to hide any hints of magickal mishaps as a precaution. Your home is included in all of our security measures. Normally we buy up all the surrounding property such as yours.” He looked guilty as he admitted, “My original intention was to get ya to move, after we had our fling of course. I would have erased myself from your mind.”

  Wow. Honesty. She tried to ignore the slight sting of discovering his intentions, but respected that he’d told her the truth. “I told you, I’m not selling.”

  “I know. I’ll make sure my family doesn’t interfere with your life any more than is necessary. I promise I won’t let them drive ya out of your grandmother’s home.”

  Lydia nodded. “And I promise to keep the MacGregor secret.”

  She closed the door on him and sunk to the kitchen floor. She felt him walk away. Now, alone, she let the tears of heartache fall down her cheeks. “Goodbye, Erik.”

  …

  “Well?” Euann demanded as Erik stepped up the drive to their house.

  Erik stopped walking and said nothing.

  “Does she forgive ya?” Iain chimed in, pushing past Euann who blocked the front door.

  “Aye,” Erik nodded. “I need ya to come down and help me clear her yard of trees later. It looks like a warlock battlefield down there.”

  “Of course,” Iain agreed. “I’ll get the lads together.”

  “This is great news,” Euann said, grinning. “She forgives ya. All is well. Little harm done.”

  “I said she forgives me.” Erik kept his eyes on the ground, unable to look at his siblings. All he wanted was to crawl into a bottle of whiskey and be alone. “But I didn’t say she wanted anything more to do with me.”

  “But it was only a little harmless magick,” Iain said. He quickly stepped out of Erik’s way as the man moved to go inside.

  Erik walked faster, trying to get to the privacy of the study where he could lock his brothers out—or at least try.

  “Did ya apologize?” Iain asked.

  “Aye,” Erik grumbled.

  “He probably did it in song,” Euann said with a snicker.

  To answer the jibe, Erik turned, pushing his magick at his brother to toss him across the floor.

  Euann laughed harder as he braced his feet and skidded to a stop. He began crooning, “Ly-di-ah! Let me sing to ya my song so crass. Baby, how I loooove your a—”

  “You’re dead!” Erik turned and ran at his brother, forgetting the whiskey.

  Euann ran, singing all the louder. “Ly-di-ah! Ly-di-ah!”

  Chapter Twelve

  “This is not exactly what I had in mind when I said to redecorate.”

  Lydia gasped sharply. Startled, she lifted her head and pressed her back hard into the kitchen door. Tears stained her cheeks but she’d stopped crying several minutes before, at which time she started to wallow in self-pity. With Charlotte’s memories altered and her break up—if one could call it that—with Erik, Lydia had never felt more alone. The world was full of magick and secrets and she had no one to share the burden of that knowledge with.

  “Breathe, dear.” Annabelle’s transparent figure stood before her, hands on hips. The ghost looked down at her, seeming completely aware of what was happening.

  Lydia’s mouth opened. Annabelle was much more visible than before.

  “Close your mouth or the flies will get in,” Annabelle said.

  Lydia snapped her lips shut.

  “Not even a hug?” Annabelle shook her head. “Tsk, tsk.”

  Lydia pushed to her feet and lifted her arms, wanting nothing more than to have a comforting hug from her gramma. When she stepped forward, she went through Annabelle’s body. A cold chill caused goose bumps to rise on her flesh and a pant of mist to come out of her mouth. The smell of lilies clung to her clothes. The coldness of her grandmother’s spirit left her shivering, and feeling a little empty inside.

  “Oh, poo.” Annabelle pouted. “I thought I was corporeal this time.”

  “Where did you go?” Lydia sniffed.

  “I’m not sure. Think of it as swooning. Something powerful sucked the energy right out of me.” Annabelle floated more than walked to the window. She wore the same fancy, sparkling green ball gown she’d been buried in. “Did you drink all the moonshine and then trash the house? Is that what’s wrong with you? You’re hung over?”

  “Ah, not exactly.” Lydia wasn’t sure how to explain everything that was going on. She had promised to keep the MacGregor secret, but did talking to your dead gramma count? Most people would say she was hallucinating right now anyway, so really she was probably talking to a figment of her imagination.

  “Too bad. It would have made one helluva story. Ah, well. Sit, I’ll make you some tea.” Annabelle flitted to the stove and ran her hand through the tea kettle. “Uh, dear, make yourself some tea and we’ll talk.”

  Lydia nodded and obeyed, slowly crossing to the stove. Under her breath, she whispered, “So this is what crazy feels like.”

  …

  “Did ya have to chase your brother up a tree?” Margareta sighed heavily staring at Erik as he tried to ignore her. With a whiskey in one hand and an absent stirring of dust floating over the other, he swirled both. The library had been quiet and dark until his mother opened the heavy brocade curtains. “Well?”

  “Aye,” he mumbled. Even as he chased him, Erik knew his brother had only been trying to distract him from his misery. It worked for a short time. Now he just wanted to be alone.

  “Euann showed me the security footage he could find.”

  Erik arched a brow, not following her topic choice. “Good?” Then dropping the dust, he pushed up from his chair in alarm. “Wait, do ya mean the lidérc? Ya saw him?”

  “Not all threats are male,” Margareta scolded.

  “Ya saw it?” Erik corrected.

  “No.” Margareta sighed again, not taking her eyes off of him.

  Erik frowned and fell back into the chair. “I have no idea what we’re talking about. If you’d like to drink, you’re welcome to close the curtains and pull up a chair. If you’re only here to say ominous things that make no sense in order to make me feel as if I am drunker than I am because I cannot follow them, then I’ll gladly take my misery elsewhere.”

  “Ya are a bumbling idiot,” Margareta stated. At that, he again sat straight only this time in surprise. She continued, “God knows I love my boys, but ya are all idiots when it comes to women. No wonder I have yet to be made a grandmother after nearly five hundred years of waiting. I’m lucky we’re not mere humans or my line w
ould have ended.”

  “Uh, thanks?” he mumbled sarcastically.

  “I blame your da. He’s an idiot too. When I met him he was tied to a tree limb half-transformed into a bird because he used one of your Uncle Fergus’s spells.” Margareta slowly crossed over to her son and then snatched the drink from his hand. Tossing it back, she finished it for him. She brushed her hand through the air to slide the bottle across the rug out of his reach. “I had to rescue him. He bumbled after me for a year until I finally caved and married him.”

  His parents adored each other. He knew that. Sure, during the course of hundreds of years of marriage there were bound to be some powerful fights, but they always came back together.

  “That’s not how Da tells it.” Erik tried to pull the bottle back but his mother slid it hard into the wall and shattered it. Liquor ran over the floor. He grimaced.

  “My point is that ya tricked her into agreeing to a date. Ya crooned at the poor woman, and God knows ya can’t sing. Ya attacked her with magick. Ya attacked her with your beast. Ya erased her memories and her friend’s memories. I’m betting ya cast a few little spells here and there to avoid the true work of a relationship.”

  Erik thought of that first day when she’d nearly drained him of all his magick because he’d wanted her to relax around him. Luckily, with his mother staring at him, his mind didn’t try to relive the full extent of what had happened. He looked guiltily to the ground.

  “I thought as much.” She pulled at his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Sober up. Shower. And go win me a daughter so that I can have a grandbaby. Do it, or your sister’s love potions will be the least of your worries.”

  “It’s a little soon to be talking marriage,” Erik said. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “Do ya blame her?” Margareta laughed. “She probably thinks your psychotic.”

  Was this a pep talk? Erik wasn’t sure.

  “Ya haven’t made your intentions clear, son. I don’t care what all those talk show hocus pocus hosts say. Courtships have been around since the beginning of time. There is a reason they worked in my youth and are so messy today. State your intentions clearly and then woo her. It is a simple concept. Forget those horribly misguided rules of waiting three days before ya call. Oh, and forget that tweeting text nonsense. Charm is what a woman wants. She wants ya to charm her with thoughtful gifts and—”