Witches of Skye : Reap what You Sow (Book Two) Paranormal Fantasy

by M. L. Briers

  “So, it’s like that…”

  “Always.”

  “I thought we might…”

  “No.”

  “Maggie McFae…”

  “Do you think I don’t know my full name, Jackie Mackie, and that you need to remind me of it? Do I look senile to you…?” He lifted his hand, pointed his index finger at me, and opened the mouth that was about to land him in a whole heap of trouble and a world of hurt. “Do not answer that.” I hissed down at him.

  Then he grinned, stupid man, like that drop-dead sexy grin was going to kill my wrath. Pah! I was ready to go nuclear on the man.

  He’d caused me sleepless nights, he did not get to grin at me like that, with those eyes laughing, and those stupid shoulders of his looking even broader from where I was perched above him.

  “And you can wipe that smile off your face.”

  “I came for coffee…” he said, just as the door opened and an unsuspecting tourist popped his head in.

  “We’re out of coffee!” I snapped at Jack and the tourist, with his red, blotchy, midge bitten face backed away like a man from his wife at the time of the month when hitting someone in the face with a skillet seemed like great stress relief, and chocolate was a currency worth more than gold.

  “How do you keep customers with that attitude?” Jack’s smile was both teasing and smug, and I had a skillet in the kitchen that I could run and get if he kept on annoying me.

  “They’re tourists; they don’t come back…”

  “Can you blame them?” he chuckled, and I scowled at him.

  I imagined a skillet in each hand and his head in between them like they were symbols, aye, that would suit my mood.

  “Go away wee man,” I growled like I’d caught what Ross had.

  “I’m not exactly little in anyone’s book.” He grinned, but his smile slipped when I held up my pinky finger and wiggled it at him. Now I had the smug smile on my face.

  “I wasn’t talking about height.”

  “Do you often speak on subjects you have no idea about?”

  “Don’t want to know, but you look the type.”

  “And what type is that?”

  “The over-compensating for something type.” I took a step down, not that I wasn’t enjoying not having to look up at the man for a change, but my toes were starting to go numb, and then I slipped against the metal rung – stupid shoes – a moment later I was being swooped up in the man’s arms like I needed rescuing again.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ~

  Are you kidding me!

  “Eejit!” I bit out at the thought of him having one over on me. “You almost floored me.” I lied, truth be told; I had never felt so safe and secure in anyone’s arms before.

  “I think you have that the wrong way round. I saved your pride from hitting…”

  “Put me down, or you’ll be the one getting hit, you big oaf,” I hissed out, just as my perfect hearing caught the sound of my sister, with her perfect blooming timing, coming from the kitchen. There I was in Jack Mackie’s arms like a bride on the threshold.

  I was never living this moment down.

  “She’s not for sale; we do food, coffee, and other beverages. I’d advise putting her down because that cat has claws,” Moira said, looking about as pleased as a woman could.

  You’d have thought that she’d just tasted chocolate for the very first time.

  Nope, not living this down anytime soon.

  “I’ll have coffee, you can keep your sister,” Jack said, and I gasped inwardly at the nerve of the man. Cheeky blinder. I had a good mind to zap him.

  “That’s what they all say,” Moira shrugged, and I could have zapped her as well, but I was too intent on finding my feet and not giving either of them the satisfaction of watching me face plant the floor.

  “Eejit,” I muttered, taking a long moment to distract my temper by smoothing down my clothes.

  “Weren’t you told never to darken our door again?” Moira said, and I managed a grunt of approval.

  “That was your house, and I didn’t think you meant it,” Jack said, and tried his sexy smile out on my sister, she snorted in contempt.

  “Not very bright, are you?” she tossed back, and I cheered inside.

  “I’m bright enough to know that I need your help,” Jack said, and my heart lurched.

  “So, you didn’t come here just…for the coffee?” Moira shot a quick look in my direction, and I glared at her. I knew what she meant; she’d thought the thoughtless human being had come here to make things right with me, well, Pah! It was Jack Mackie, what did she expect, that the man had grown a conscience or something?

  “Yesterday there was some dead sheep found on the south of the Island…”

  “Oh, you are seriously not even going to try to lay the blame of that on…” I bit out every word as my temper rose within me. Hit him with a skillet – I was going to throw a car at his thick head.

  “They were mutilated and…” Jack kept going as if I hadn’t just warned him.

  “Out!” I lifted my hand and pointed the way just in case he was as daft as he looked.

  “Maggie…” he started, turning those soulful eyes on me and pleading with those expressive dancing eyebrows, but addressing me with a tone that said he was talking to a child.

  “Don’t Maggie me, and don’t be doing that thing you do with those two little bushy things over your eyes, you…” I bit down on a million more swear words.

  “My – eyebrows?” he looked amused, more than amused, his eyes were laughing again. I’d like to see how damn sexy they looked when he had two black eyes.

  “Out! If you can’t remember where you left the front door just retrace your steps. That should be easy for a detective though, right?”

  I wasn’t waiting for another round of dancing eyebrows, pleading looks, or Jack Mackie trying to dig himself out of the hole he’d gotten into, and I stalked toward Moira, the counter, and the sanctuary of the kitchen.

  “You’re being unreasonable…” he called, and I spluttered out a chuckle of disbelief.

  “Yeah, says you.”

  “Anyone would think…”

  “That a detective had two brain cells to rub together?” Moira asked. “You’re living proof that’s not always the case.”

  “It’s just a question,” Jack said.

  “And I have your answer right here,” Moira said, and I saw her flip that middle finger at him, and that made me feel a little better. Something needed to, because I was headed to the kitchen, and there were skillets in there.

  ~

  “The nerve of that man!” Moira announced as she came through the kitchen door to find me elbow deep in chocolate. She froze in place, cocked an eyebrow, and lifted a hand to cover her eyes. “I’ll back out slowly, just don’t attack, remember – we’re kin.”

  “Oh, hush up,” I grumbled before attacking the creamy milk chocolate bar like a zombie at an all you could eat human buffet.

  “Mutilated sheep, the cheek. Like we’d know anything about that,” Moira grumbled as she went over to the side and started to make a pot of tea.

  “We’re witches, of course, we’re into cattle mutilation,” I grumbled with a mouthful of sugary goodness.

  “The dark arts,” she snorted a chuckle, tossing me a pitying look back over her shoulder.

  “I guess he missed the chicken shed out back where we breed our own so we can kill them with a hatpin…” I grumbled.

  “While dancing naked under the moonlight…”

  “Jumping over an open fire…”

  “And painting our bodies in blood,” she chuckled as she put the pot of tea and a cup down in front of me. “He’s a jerk.”

  “Sexy though, right?” I covered my mouth as I spoke so as not to shoot chocolate bits at her.

  “If you like that sort of thing,” she chuckled again.

  “Not hairy enough for you?” I snorted a chuckle.

  “Don’t make me make you b
ite your tongue,” she warned me, and I knew she meant it because there was a glint in her eye that dared me on.

  “Teeth not pointy enough?” I couldn’t help myself, and the look on her face was priceless. I wish I had my camera.

  “Just you sit there and put on twenty pounds while I work,” she hissed, and I hadn’t felt the sting of her magic yet, but I wasn’t about to push my luck. Oh, heck, of course, I was.

  “Did you want me to get shaving foam for Ross or a gallon of hair remover?” She turned in place by the doorway, and I yelped, but you know what? That sting was worth it.

  ~

  “Perhaps I should have a word with the detective,” Duncan said from his place beside me at the dinner table.

  I guess my mother was still mad at me for something, putting me next to the vampire again, but I didn’t know what I’d done this time to incur her wrath.

  “Do that voodoo that you do so well?” Moira muttered.

  “Nobody needs to get mind f-oodoo-ed,” I said, almost forgetting where I was and curing at the dinner table. I like my lap without a bowl of soup in it, and I was already in mother’s bad books.

  “I’ll be gentle,” Duncan offered me the kind of grin that should have come with a little fang, and I sneered back at him.

  “I bet you say that to all your victims,” I countered.

  “Only when I don’t mean it,” he whispered back.

  “Watch yourself, Eileen, this one bites.” I leaned forward to get a good look at my sister, who was about to shove soup into her mouth, and when she hesitated in mid-slurp, her eyes flicking towards me, I crossed my eyes and offered her a toothy grin.

  She snorted that soup and choked. Job done.

  “Behave,” Dad moaned.

  “They’re just having a little fun,” Gran said. “You were young and had a sense of humor once.”

  “Pot-kettle,” he grumbled.

  “I’ve been told I have a sunny disposition,” Gran shot back.

  “By that they meant you flame grill people,” he muttered again, taking his life in his hands.

  “Well, aren’t you a little ray of sunshine tonight?” Gran bit out.

  “I don’t like this family being accused of cattle mutilation and dark arts,” dad said, resting his elbow on the table and jabbing his fork at the air. “That detective needs…”

  “Air holes in his skin and you have the fork to do it?” Gran snapped back, and we all watch the verbal tennis match with interest. It was always fun when the conversation got lively.

  “I’m serious – that man…”

  “Has accused us of murder, what’s a little cattle mutilation?” Gran shrugged. “Do you think the neighbors won’t let us babysit their sheep if this gets out?”

  I chuckled into my hand, others weren’t so generous, and Ross spat his soup clean off his spoon with laughter.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ~

  “You need to take this more seriously,” Dad said, raising his eyebrows and getting frustrated with Gran. “It’s like a vendetta.”

  “Oh, poppycock, Maggie will sort him out,” Gran said.

  “Why me?” I wasn’t laughing anymore. The last person I wanted to see was Jack.

  “He’s fond of you, maybe smitten,” Gran winked at me, and I scowled back at her.

  “If you mess in my life…” I stopped when my mother snorted like a pig.

  “You mean aside from the spell that gave you your powers?” she said.

  “Aside from that,” I waved a hand in her direction.

  “The years of subtle manipulation?”

  “And that…”

  “The love spell?”

  “So, you did do a spell to draw Jack back here?” I turned a look that was pure fire and brimstone on my Gran.

  “Don’t ask, won’t tell,” Gran shrugged. “Unless you’re sure you want to know…”

  “Certain,” I snapped back.

  “Too slow,” she chuckled.

  I had to bite down on my tongue, literally, to stop from saying what I really felt. Things said in the heat of the moment were normally bad, and once they were out there, you couldn’t take them back. I loved my gran, but she was a right pain in the backside most of the time.

  “I really could make it all go away,” Duncan whispered, and I turned my glare on him. He snatched his head back as if I’d just shown him my alien lizard side – then he grimaced. “I’ve seen friendlier looking gargoyles.”

  “I know you’re already a corpse, but keep it up, and I’ll be sure to make this time permanent.”

  “Tempting,” he offered back in that melodic tone, made more annoying by the fact that he actually used a singsong voice to go with it.

  “Company’s coming,” Gran said.

  “Oh good, because we don’t have one too many of those,” I muttered.

  “Shrew-like qualities don’t suit you,” Duncan said. “But on the bright side, you seem to have perfected them.”

  “Bite…” I stopped and bit down on that thought. “Her.” I pointed to Eileen, and she snatched her head around to glare at me and somehow managed to tip the soup from her spoon into her lap.

  The sound of tapping on the front door made me roll my eyes to the ceiling and Dad went to push up.

  “It’s for Maggie,” Gran said rather impatiently, and I bit down on another curse.

  “It had better not be tall, dark, and a numpty.” I wasn’t in the mood to deal with people, which was why I’d wanted to eat in my room, but nooo, and now a visitor – I bit out several curses under my breath as I padded for the front door and yanked it open. “Well, there goes my good mood.”

  Jack inclined his head and narrowed his eyes; I guess he was wondering at my sunny disposition, perhaps I should just hand him a mirror. Instead, I just questioned him with a glare.

  “Sheep…”

  “No, thank you, but it’s good to know you found an honest job. Although, I don’t think people buy sheep from door to door salesman.”

  “It’s going to be one of those times, I see.” Jack tipped his chin down and offered me a look from under those twisted, expressive eyebrows, and even though that look made stupid butterflies dance inside of my stomach, or perhaps that was still Moira’s cookies, I wasn’t giving in to the temptation of getting all schoolgirl excited by it.

  Gran’s spell, Jack’s backstabbing ways, and … life. Three good reasons to close the door on that part of my life.

  “Times?” I asked, trying to sound bored by him when I was anything but, I even sighed a little, changed my stance, tossing out a hip, and raising my eyebrows. In truth, I was playing for time to try to get a grip on those butterflies.

  “When everything I say gets a sarcastic reply.”

  I considered that for a long moment – then I tossed the door closed in his face. “Nope.” Strange, that didn’t give me the satisfaction that it should have done.

  Of course, he wasn’t giving up, and why should he? He’d driven all the way out to our land, did he really want to walk away with his tail between his legs, no, wait – that was Ross.

  The hard tap of knuckles on the door rattled my nerves. I still didn’t have those stupid butterflies under control.

  I wrenched open the front door and sighed once more. I wasn’t gloating as I once might have, but I was ready for another verbal ping-pong match with the man.

  “Let’s try that again,” he offered me the expectant look of a man that probably got what he wanted most of the time.

  “What are the odds it’s going to go any better the second time around?” I wasn’t sure that I was just talking about tonight. Just seeing the man stirred up emotions that I was trying to bury under living my life to the best of my abilities.

  “I’m not accusing you of anything, Maggie…”

  “Who then? You think Gran’s out at night slicing and dicing livestock? Perhaps we transform our cat into a lion.”

  That thought gave me a wake-up slap to the head. Perhaps Ross had be
en out in his fur and had hunted down a few poor, hapless sheep – although, Ross wasn’t the only werewolf on the Isle of late. There was no saying that Lachlan and Fraser hadn’t been on Skye doing a little Moon dancing.

  “You thought of something.” Jack snapped me out of my musings. I wished I could adopt the blank expression of our vampire pet when he didn’t want to give anything away, but alas, I wasn’t a corpse…yet.

  “Wind turbines.” I even gave a small shrug.

  “Wind turbines?” His tone said it all, but I wasn’t going for plausible, I was going for distraction tactics.

  “We do have winds that whip up unexpectedly here. Maybe they whipped up and tossed the sheep at the blades of one of those big, deadly bat and bird killing eyesores.” He grunted, but I didn’t care. “Have you checked the blades for blood?”

  “There aren’t any wind turbines on that side of the Island…”

  “Then I’m at a loss to help you.”

  “I just want to ask about possible practices that involve…”

  “Killing innocent livestock.” I turned my nose up, not just at the idea, but at the man himself.

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “No, you don’t know of any, or no you won’t share what you do know?”

  “For fear, it might incriminate me?” I tossed back and watched his eyebrows reach for his fluffy hairline.

  “That’s not…”

  “Possible, because witches don’t do that.” I snapped back.

  Then I tossed the door closed in his face again. That time there was a certain amount of satisfaction.

  I backed off from the door and narrowed my eyes on the shadow that he projected against the glass, almost daring him to raise his fist and knock again. When that shadow withdrew, I wasn’t sure if I was happy, or miffed.

  ~

  I didn’t bother returning to the dinner table. Instead, I sought solace in chocolate. Chocolate is always a good substitute for a real feel-good moment, and I needed one of those.

  It wasn’t just Jack returning that had put me in a funk; it was what had shot into my mind when I was speaking to the man – Ross – mutilated sheep and Ross. Okay, I know that might seem a little hard on the man, but he did have a werewolf side, and wolves and sheep didn’t exactly make great bedfellows. Had Ross been out hunting?