Jane glanced back at Iain in warning and held up her hand to indicate he should not join them. The direction of the sunlight denoted it was late morning. When they were alone, well, as alone as a watchful warlock staring at them through a glass door would allow them to be, Jane said, “I’m sorry I missed dinner. I explained I’m busy with a lot of jobs right now.”
“Yeah, jobs,” he said bitterly, glaring toward the door.
Jane didn’t appreciate his tone or his implication. “Sean, don’t be crass. I’m allowed to have a personal life. I don’t see you for years and then you expect me to drop everything the second you drive into town.”
“That’s not my fault. You disappeared from our lives. I had to track you down. How was I to know you wouldn’t leave before I had a chance to see you? Is it so wrong that I want to spend time with the only family I have left? My little sister?” He reached as if to touch her face but then must have thought better of it, because he ran his fingers through his hair instead.
Just like his mother, he always knew just what to say to guilt her. Knowing it was a lame excuse even before she said it, she answered, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I would have called, but I don’t have your current number, and besides, my cell phone is broken. I dropped it on a landscaping job and haven’t had a chance to replace it.”
“You know I am staying at the Dorchester. You could have called there for me.”
“I don’t have a house phone. Only the broken cell.” She could tell by his look he wasn’t impressed with her explanation.
“I don’t like that man you’re with. There’s something off about him,” Sean continued.
“We’ll have dinner tonight,” Jane said. She was not discussing her private life with him.
“Why don’t we just go now?”
Jane looked down at her clothes. In her rush, she’d grabbed an old polo shirt and faded blue jeans. Good thing the shirt material was thick, because she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. “I’m not dressed for dinner. I’m not even wearing shoes. Tonight. You have my word.”
“Fine. I’ll be here—again—at seven.” Sean tried to come in for a hug, but she artfully stepped back.
Jane nodded. “Yes. Seven. I promise.”
Iain opened the door for her as she gingerly stepped barefoot across the lawn. Seconds later, the squeal of car tires blasted over the quiet street.
“I don’t like the look of him,” Iain said. “Ya are right to be wary.”
“Iain, just…” She took a deep breath, trying not to be upset. “Just go.”
“But…?” He gave her a confused once-over.
“I can handle my own business,” she said. “I don’t need you answering my door for me or trying to handle my stepbrother.”
He reached for her. “But we’re—”
“Having a good time,” she inserted.
“I think we both know it’s a little more than that, love.” He placed his hands on his hips and studied her. She hated the frown on his face and the confusion in his eyes. “As your man, I will protect—”
“We can’t be more than that.” Jane took a deep breath. “I think you should go. I need to run a few errands before I start the landscaping. I’ll be by the mansion later.”
“Jane, we need to discuss—”
“Goodbye, Iain,” Jane stated. She moved to go upstairs, unsure whether she wanted him to follow her or not. On one hand, she didn’t need him swinging in and playing hero. She was a grown woman who could handle her own affairs like she’d been doing her entire adult life. On the other hand, it felt nice to be protected and wanted. Then again, what gave Iain the right to be rude to her stepbrother? Sure, she didn’t like Sean and didn’t want him in her town, but he was her family, and he was her annoyance to deal with in her own way.
Back and forth, her mind swung like a pendulum. She was mad. She wasn’t mad. The only thing she could firmly state was that she was confused.
Chapter 15
Iain made sure to magickally lock Jane’s front door before starting the walk back home. He didn’t like Sean around her but couldn’t fathom if it was for any real reason, or if the possessive, primitive bird of prey shifter inside him didn’t like other men sniffing around his territory. Jane might see Sean as some harmless, annoying stepbrother, but Iain wondered if Sean saw Jane as a sister. Sean didn’t look at her like a man looked at his sister.
Iain had lived far too long to not trust his instincts, and his instincts said to keep Jane away from Sean. Then again, in all his centuries, Iain had never felt for any woman the way he did for Jane. It was new territory for him. Had possessiveness caused his reaction instead of instinct?
Churning thoughts remained his steady companion as he walked the distance to the mansion on the hill. A few townsfolk stopped to wave at him. Iain vaguely recognized their faces as he automatically returned the greetings. Another town. Another sea of faces. Another step forward in their journey as immortal warlocks. Yet Green Vallis was different than other towns they’d lived in. His magick felt it. His body knew it. His heart understood it. Jane was here. Erik had found Lydia. Power surged from the very ground Iain walked on like a convergence of ley lines.
He paused at the clarity of the thought. If ley lines converged beneath them and somehow created a surge of energy, it would act like a beacon to not only his family, but to others too. It would explain why the lidércs had tried to force Charlotte to take his powers from him.
Oh, poor, poor Charlotte. He hoped his magick didn’t cause permanent insanity. The more he stayed away from her, the better her chances.
“I’d call this your walk of shame, but if I’d spent the night with a woman like Jane, I’d be bragging about it,” Rory said. A shotgun rested over his shoulder as he strolled across the expansive lawn.
“What are ya doing?” Iain frowned.
“Hunting.” His cousin grinned. It was the kind of mischievous look that Iain had seen numerous times.
“We don’t hunt.” Iain stopped walking as Rory joined him. “Put that away before ya rile up the locals.”
“I’m not killing anything,” Rory dismissed, unconcerned. “Just doing a little target practice on Euann’s surveillance cameras.”
Iain couldn’t help but chuckle. “He’s going to retaliate, ya know that, right?”
“Let him.” Rory shrugged and continued his leisurely walk to the nearby trees.
Iain was too occupied to interfere, and would probably not have done anything to stop Rory even if he could have. Warlocks would be warlocks, after all.
The second Iain opened the door, his ma and Aunt Cait were waiting for him. They swooped forward like two tigresses on their prey.
“Well?” Margareta demanded. “What happened?”
Iain grimaced and made a move to go toward the stairs. “Since when have I ever discussed my sex life with ya?”
His ma scowled.
“The potion,” Cait clarified. “What happened when ya gave her the potion?”
Iain stopped on the bottom stair and stiffened. He reached for his pocket, but the potion bottle wasn’t there. “I, uh…”
“Ya slept with the reipseach?” Margareta shivered. Each passing hour seemed to bring new vitality to the woman. She looked younger than she had the night before. It meant she was finally recovering from her overuse of magick.
“Ya look better, Ma,” Iain said. “Glad to see the rose returning to your cheeks. Maybe next time leave some things to chance. I know ya wanted to help ensure Erik’s Lydia was out of harm’s way, but ya pushed yourself too far.”
“Lydia?” Margareta repeated. Her eyes were clearer too. Her memory was coming back to her. “Ya think it was Lydia’s future that sapped me of my strength?”
“That is what ya intended to find out with your future casting, right?” he questioned.
“I’m sure it was something more,” Margareta said. “Peeking into the future doesn’t cause a person’s mind to—”
“The potion?�
� Cait interrupted. “What happened when ya gave it to her?”
“Nothing,” Iain said.
“I told ya to make sure she drinks all of it,” Cait scolded. “Ya will have to try again.”
“She drank none of it,” Iain admitted.
“What?” Margareta shot in ire. “Give it to me. I’ll see to it.”
“I think it fell out of my pocket at Jane’s house last night.” Iain slowly backed up the stairs, keeping his eye on his elders. “I said I’ll take care of it and I will.”
“Ya lost a potion?” Cait demanded as if she couldn’t believe such carelessness.
“It’s not lost, just misplaced,” Iain said. “Jane will be here later to work on the landscaping. I’ll retrieve it then.”
“That reipseach bewitched him,” Margareta swore. “That is the only explanation as to why my son would be so careless.”
“Jane is not a hussy,” Iain stated firmly. “I’ll not have ya saying such again. I care for her, and the only spell I’m under is the emotion I feel for her. I told ya I’d take care of the potion and I will.”
He hurried up the stairs before he could hear any more of their talk.
* * *
Warlocks.
The bean nighe clung to her branch as she watched the hunter pass beneath her. His eyes turned up, flashing with unmistakable magick before he continued on his way. She wasn’t worried. He would not be able to see her now that she’d fed on spirits in the old graveyard. He kept searching the trees as he moved, and seconds after he disappeared, she heard the report of the gun.
What was little Jane doing with warlocks?
The bean nighe had followed one of them from Jane’s home, not liking the magick she’d been sensing around the woman lately. Now it all made sense. Jane’s life was infested with warlocks.
Oh, if only she could feed off one of those immortal souls. Magick and food all in one bite. She would not have to steal fresh souls from the reapers after a tragedy to retain any length of consciousness. With a warlock, she could last years, maybe even decades. Alas, such a meal was merely a dream, for it was rare to find a dead warlock who had not had the clan funeral rites, and she was not strong enough to kill one.
Time was not the bean nighe’s ally. Even now, the call of the dead echoed its way to her, stirring the gnawing hunger. Soon she would not be able to resist taking another meal.
Chapter 16
There was familiarity in dirt.
Jane loved the feel of soil on her hands. She liked crumbling clay through her fingers. She recognized and appreciated the potential of earth.
Dirt she understood. Plants she understood. The MacGregors…not so much.
She knew they were warlocks. They knew she knew they were warlocks. And yet they pretended like their secret was still their own as they lifted landscaping supplies off her small trailer and manually carted them across the lawn.
“How did ya do that?” Iain asked.
Jane blinked in confusion, looking up at him from her place in the ground. To be fair, he had tried to talk to her when she first arrived, but she’d still been irritated with him. It was nothing a few hours landscaping couldn’t calm. “What?”
“That.” He gestured past her.
Jane turned. The nearby bushes had filled out with leaves and looked healthier than before. “It’s amazing what a little weeding and water will do.”
“That’s not weeding and watering,” Iain stated. “Those were near dead earlier.”
“You exaggerate,” she dismissed. “They only look fuller now that I’ve cleared the area.”
Iain kneeled on the ground beside her. He took her dirt-filled hand in his. Her fingers tingled where they touched. “No, it’s your doing.”
“I have always had a way with plants,” she said weakly. “It’s no big deal. Just a green thumb.”
“Told ya she was some kind of green witch.” Niall passed with three heavy stones stacked on his arms. Jane could only manage one of the stones at a time, and even then her steps were stilted from the weight.
She turned her hand, so the dirt poured onto the ground.
“Here. Try digging over here.” Iain stood and reached his hand to help her to her feet. He led her to a bush.
Jane kneeled on the ground and began pulling weeds. She took the hand rake from her belt and churned the earth. The more she worked, the better the nearby plants began to look. She paused to examine the leaves.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Euann said.
Jane turned in surprised to find Iain, Niall, Euann and Rory forming a half circle around her, watching.
“What are ya?” Rory asked.
“Uh—” Jane gave a small shrug, “—a landscaper?”
“No, what are ya?” Rory repeated. She waited for his playful smile. It didn’t come.
Jane stood, not understanding. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
“Maybe ma was right.” Euann gave Iain a pointed look.
“Ya should have given her the potion, Iain,” Niall said. “That is the simplest way to have our answers.”
“Potion?” Jane took Iain by the arm and pulled him away from the others so they couldn’t listen. “Does he mean the pretty blue bottle you left at my house? I thought it was cologne or something. I was going to return it.”
Iain nodded. “I was going to explain about that, but we—” he gave her a sheepish grin, “—became distracted last night.”
“Explain it now,” she said. “Is there a reason your family doesn’t trust me and that you keep trying to reassure me that you do?”
“They think you’re trouble.” He tried to touch her, but she leaned back, refusing to let him sidetrack her. “Where did ya put the bottle?”
“Locked in my glove box,” Jane answered. Her heartbeat quickened. “Why? What does it do? Is it dangerous? Should I not have touched it? Why are you just now telling me this?”
“Jane, easy,” he soothed.
“Easy?” she repeated. Why was he so calm? In fact, he always looked calm—unless he was glaring at Sean.
“It’s a test of sorts. My family wanted me to give it to ya to drink to see if ya can be trusted.” Iain reached for her. “But I trust ya. I don’t need a test to tell me—”
“I have to do everything,” Niall stated.
“Niall,” Iain warned, turning to face his brother.
Niall lifted his hand and a yellow light radiated from his fingertips toward Jane.
Jane felt her feet and legs stiffening, trapped in place against the dirt. She gasped in panic, her eyes finding Iain’s as she tried to reach for him. “I can’t move.”
The last word barely made it out as the petrification seized her chest and throat.
* * *
“What are ya doing?” Iain demanded, violently pushing Niall back. It was too late. Jane was frozen in place. One of the plants she’d been attending withered, its life gone as Niall used it to cast the spell.
“Someone had to do something,” Niall stated. To Euann, he ordered, “Her glove box. Get the potion. Her mouth is open. We can give it to her while she is petrified. Let’s get this over with.”
“Don’t ya dare, Euann,” Iain ordered.
“Sorry, Iain, ya know I like her too, but we have to know. That thing with the plants…” Euann moved to fetch the potion bottle from Jane’s truck. “That wasn’t just gardening. She’s not a normal human.”
“They’re right,” Rory said. “Aunt Margareta has good instincts. If your ma said we should worry, maybe we need to be sure.”
“I was taking care of it,” Iain said. “I said I’d handle it and I’ll handle it. Jane is my responsibility. I just need a little more time to explain things to her.”
“Ya had your chance last night and all day today. It’s better to be sure,” Niall said quietly, “before I have to erase her knowledge of us.”
“No,” Iain protested. “Ya can’t erase me from her life. I-I love her.” He made a move to
sweep Jane into his arms and carry her away from the gardens. The spell made her body as heavy as a boulder. “She accepts—”
Niall lifted his hand, and the yellow light shot forth again. Iain felt his body turning stone before he could protest. He was stuck mid-action trying to lift Jane. Rage filled him, and he wanted to strike out, but he couldn’t. The spell was too strong, binding him from movement.
“If only your reasoning mattered more than what must be done.” Niall gave him a pitying look, but Iain could only listen. “Don’t worry. Once we know what she is, I’ll be careful only to take those memories that I must. It will all be over before you wake.”
Iain tried to respond but couldn’t.
Niall crouched down and placed a hand on Iain’s stiff shoulder. “Forgive me, brother, but there are too many lives at stake, and I will do what must be done. The clan must be protected.”
Chapter 17
Don’t hurt Jane. Don’t hurt Jane. Iain willed his family to hear his call from inside his petrified prison. He couldn’t see beyond the fuzzy blur of his vision, couldn’t feel his frozen limbs. But he could think. Please, don’t hurt my Jane.
He had been petrified many times and knew his only option was to wait the spell out. Then, something strange happened. The haze around Iain’s vision lifted.
He lay in a ditch with his older brother, Erik, in the country outside of town. A bonfire burned on the lawn across the road, casting orange shadows and outlining the unmistakable image of the tin star hanging in front of the driveway. It was Sheriff Johnson’s home.
He remembered this place, these people, this event. It was the night his power had been ripped from his body. Why had his mind brought him here, and with such clarity? This was a horrible night, one he wished he could forget. This was the night he should have died.
The sound of chanting filled the air, the words from some ancient Magyar dialect he couldn’t translate. Erik’s girlfriend, Lydia, kicked her feet as she was dragged by her bound wrists to be sacrificed.
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