Emmet laughs and points. “See, there it is.”
Sloan shakes his head and gestures for me to take my seat. “Relax, Cumhaill, they’re fuckin’ with ye. They never told me a single thing other than to warn me about how to tell when yer right pissed. Supposedly, when I see the vein throbbing at the side of yer neck like that, I should shut my mouth or clear the area before ye detonate.”
I glare at my brothers, and they all burst out laughing.
“I hate you all. You so suck.”
Dillan pats the table, and I take my seat.
I offer the bottle, but don’t let go. Making locked eye contact with each one of them, I make damned sure they’re all paying attention. “To be clear, if you guys open the door on our most embarrassing moments, I have enough firepower to bury all of you ten times over.”
Calum leans over from the chair beside me and kisses the side of my head. “Oh, Fi, we don’t doubt that for a second.”
We enjoy ourselves as the back of the bar rowdies until closing time, then arrive in Emmet’s room under the poofing power of our wayfarer.
Emmet is polluted.
Calum and Kevin are each tucked under a shoulder to hold him up, and I’m on video duty. You never know when something might happen that could come in handy later.
Poofing right next to his bed was a strategic decision, rather than arriving in the back hall and trying to get him up the stairs while Da is sleeping.
“I love you guys.” Emmet grins. “I seriously love you. Big love. Huge. Manly love.”
“That’s our Emmet,” Calum says as he and Kev ease him down onto his bed. “He’s all about the drunken love.”
I untie his shoes and set them aside.
“Here, Emmet.” Sloan holds up a glass of water and a couple of Advil. “Take these now and drink this. You’ll thank me in the morning.”
Emmet looks at the water in the glass and scrunches up his face. “Got anything stronger?”
“No. It’s simple hydration this round, I’m afraid.”
Emmet leans around Sloan and frowns at me. “Where’d you find this guy? Water? I thought you said he’s Irish.”
Calum chuckles. “Don’t diss our DD. This bar-to-bed service was amazing. I’ll tip you in the morning, Irish.”
Dillan finishes in the bathroom and comes in stripping off his shirt. “Yeah, thanks for being our Designated Druid. Now, everyone get gone. I’m wrecked, and I’m about to go full monty. This is your final warning.”
Sloan flashes out and returns a moment later with Emmet’s glass of water refilled. “I’ll put this here for later. Try to drink it.”
I chuckle. “Did you and Calum drink water on your night of Canadian Shield bonding? As I recall, you were unconscious and hugging his shoe when I found you both.”
Sloan rolls his eyes. “Your family should come with a warning label. Seriously.”
“Damn straight.” Kevin pulls Calum toward the door. “Night all.”
“Shut yer feckin’ gobs and get to bed!” Da shouts from his room. “I’ve got a gun!”
I make a face and wave goodnight to all. After a quick trip to the bathroom to wash off my makeup and pee, I head into my room. “Oh, hey,” I say, finding Sloan on my bed. “You lost? I think your bed is one room that way.”
“Not tonight. I thought I’d say goodnight before I head downstairs.”
“Downstairs? You’re not… Oh, Kev and Calum kicked you out?”
He chuckles. “Actually, the three choices were to join, watch, or vacate.”
“What? They tried to poach you?”
He laughs and waves that away. “They’re both gone with drink. In any case, I opted to grab my things and head for the pullout.”
I frown. “I don’t have it set up, and I’m too tired to get the linens now. Can we play PG roomies and you sleep here?”
The look he flashes me is far from PG, but it’s gone as soon as he catches himself. “I’ll be fine. There’s that big, fuzzy blanket on the end of the couch. No linens necessary.”
“That’s better than my comfy bed how?” I grab my jams, step behind the open door of my closet and spin my finger in the air for him to give me his back.
He does as he’s told and moves behind the screen of the door. “Not better, just wiser. We’ve both had a fair bit to drink, and sober Fiona made her intentions very clear. I don’t want tipsy Fiona to blur any lines ye’ve drawn. I do, however, want to see yer leg before we go to sleep.”
“In one sentence he vows to behave, and in the next, he plots to get my pants down. Mixed messages, Mackenzie.”
He chuckles, but there’s definite tension in his tone. “I said I’ll not rush things, Fi, and I won’t.”
“I was teasing. I know you won’t.” I finish getting ready for bed and free my hair from the collar of my shirt. When I come out from behind the door, I can see by the way he’s chewing his bottom lip that he’s still stewing. “Okay, out with it. Say what’s on your mind.”
He shrugs. “It’s nothin’…I’m simply a touch off-balance bein’ held at arms’ reach by a girl I’m datin’ I mean.”
“Why? You’ve never dated a girl who’s not simply in it to strip down and jump you?”
“If I say no, will ye think less of me?”
I laugh and head across the room to my little vanity. Sitting in front of the mirror, I take the clips out of my hair and brush things out. “I’m a big girl. I’ve had partners, and you’ve had partners. No big.”
“But it is for you…with me, I mean. Is that because of somethin’ I’ve done or said? Are ye wary of trustin’ me or somethin’? I want ye to be frank with me if ye are.”
“All right, the whole truth is I want to be careful. You mean a lot to my grandparents, and they mean a lot to you. You’re also my friend and someone I depend on for druid stuff. I need you as a sounding board and support. Our lives and our paths are intertwined. My life-axis altered less than six months ago. I don’t want to rush into hooking up only to realize I was off-kilter and ruined something great.”
He considers that for a little and nods. “Agreed.”
“So, slow and steady to win this race.”
He intercepts me when I stand and points at my leg.
I pull my pants down my thighs, sit on the end of my bed, and lean back onto my elbows. When he places his hands over the damaged tissue poisoned by me internalizing Morgan le Fey’s grimoire, the warmth of his healing magic tingles across my skin.
“I’m not arguin’ the logic about takin’ it slow.” A deep scowl forms between his brows. “I’m simply unaccustomed to spendin’ this much time with a woman and not takin’ those next steps. Yer not like any girl I’ve known before and I’m off-kilter.”
I chuckle. “How am I that different? Other than the jumping your bod part.”
“Och, let me count the ways.” His focus shifts to the gross, gray flesh, and his lips move as he casts a spell. Hovering his hand over the wound, he closes his fingers and pulls his fist back from my leg as if he’s tugging the poison out by an invisible cable.
I hiss and grip my duvet. “Fuck a duck, Mackenzie? What did you do?”
“That hurt?”
“Um, yeah, more than a little.”
His scowl deepens. “I was testin’ the grip of the dark magic woven into the tissue and muscle of your leg. If that hurt, it’s wound deeper and tighter than I realized.”
“There’s no if about it. Dayam.”
He shakes his head and looks up at me with worry plain in his dark gaze. “We need to convince yer father that takin’ ye home to my father is the best thing. He dug his heels in and has Garnet lookin’ for someone who might help, but it’s difficult when we can’t tell people what poisoned you.”
“Da went to Garnet Grant for help about my leg?”
“He did.”
Wow. That takes a moment to sink in. My father ranks Garnet only minutely above Vito Corleone in the hierarchy of hoodlums. If he’s asking him for hel
p, he must be seriously worried. “How bad is this? On a scale of one to ten—one being it’s not good when your skin is dead and dying and ten being we need to amputate before you become a dark magic evil minion who mindlessly eats people.”
Sloan frowns. “Seven-point-five… maybe eight.”
I blink. “Oh. That’s not good.”
“Ye wanted me to be honest, didn’t ye? That wasn’t one of those women questions where I’m supposed to ice yer cake instead of bein’ honest?”
“Yeah no. Always honest.” Although him icing my cake sounds rude and slightly interesting. He straightens and steps back while I cover up and climb into bed. “So, that insight should make for a lot of interesting nightmares.”
“Shit, Fi. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, it’s not your fault.” I pull my covers up to my chin and shake my head. “And yeah, it’s probably best you sleep downstairs. I’d feel awful if I turn into a hideous possessed beast in the night and eat your face.”
“Och, thanks. I appreciate that.”
Chapter Two
I wake to the gray light of an October morning in Toronto and breathe in the decadence of Sunday breakfast cooking downstairs. “Oh, thank you, baby carrots.”
The deep chuckle beside me brings my attention to Sloan stretched out on his side, his brow arched. Man, how anyone can look so pretty first thing in the morning is beyond me.
It’s annoying, really.
“Why are you giving worship to dwarfed vegetables?”
I swipe at the dampness on my cheek and pretend I don’t drool when I sleep. “How long have you been lying here?”
He shrugs. “Not long.”
“You could’ve woken me up.”
“When ye sleep, yer quiet and still. Once yer blue eyes start shinin’, yer a bit of a whirlin’ dervish.”
“And you’re a weirdo.”
He makes an Irish harrumph sound in his throat. “So, why the ode to root vegetables?”
“Don’t you smell that?”
“The boys makin’ breakfast? I do.”
“Well, it’s a long-standing rule in this house that whoever is up and at it first on Sunday morning—who isn’t rushing out the door for a shift—is on duty for family breakfast. I love it when that’s not me.”
“Then couldn’t you simply lay here until someone else gets up and gets things started?”
I frown. “Do you understand how the honor system works, Mackenzie, or is it a foreign concept?”
“I think I grasp it. But, if that’s the case, then I think it should’ve been me who is cooking. I was awake well before Calum and Kevin headed down to the kitchen.”
I roll to sit up and rest for a second with my feet on the floor. A wave of nausea rushes over me, and I focus on the floor while the tides slosh and churn. Yikes.
I swallow a bit of acidy barf and remind myself to take it slower. My stomach is still sloshy from a night out drinking.
Hey, Red. Bruin stretches a massive brown paw across my bedroom floor and yawns wide. My bear takes up most of the space between my bed and the door, but I love waking up and seeing my grizzly mound close by. I take it ye had a night of savage craic out with the gang?
“I did. And you? Did the Don Valley delights sate your hunger as usual?
They did. Ye know, for an urban area, yer river system has quite an abundance of wildlife.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?”
I think so.
Now that I’m sitting up, it quickly becomes apparent how full my bladder is. I really have to hit the bathroom. “Wow, okay. That explains the pee dreams.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Sloan says.
“Pee dreams. Don’t you get those?”
By his expression, I’m thinking no.
“You know…when you have to pee in real life, so in your dream, you go to the bathroom, then you walk out of the bathroom, and you still have to pee. Now you’re in the library, but there’s no bathroom, so you pee in the stacks, then you walk outside to the park, and you still have to pee, so you squat behind a tree, and on and on. A pee dream.”
He looks at me like I’ve suddenly gone Hydra and popped out a couple of extra heads. “Yer ridiculous.”
I hold up my finger and shake my head. “Not this time, Mackenzie. Pee dreams are real. It’s a thing.”
I stand to ease the discomfort, but before I head across the hall, my cell rings. The throaty, African chant of the Circle of Life intro tells me it’s the Lion King calling. I giggle and swipe green to accept. “Good morning, Mr. Grant. How fare thee this fine Sunday morn?”
“Good morning, Lady Druid. Have I caught you at an odd moment? Did you just flash back from Elizabethan times? Had another adventure with your ghostly ancestor in the past, have you?”
I laugh. “No. Can’t a girl add a little flair to life for no reason other than to add a little color? All right, I’ll play it straight. Hey, Garnet. What’s up?”
He chuckles. “Well, now I prefer the first greeting.”
I shift my weight and make a face at Sloan. Man, I gots ta pee. “Did you call for a reason you want to share or is it a mystery I have to figure out?”
“There was an incident last night with the vampires.”
“Not it! Wasn’t me. Out drinking with the fam all night. My alibi is solid.”
“You’re not being blamed.”
“Oh, that’s different. I’m used to being rounded up as one of the usual suspects. I am not Keyser Söze.”
He chuckles. “I’m calling because there’s a Guild Governor meeting and you now hold the seat for the druids. Your attendance is required.”
“Oh, cool. My first official duty. When and where?”
“Anyx will escort you. He can be at your back door in one hour. Will that work?”
“Sure. An hour works. And Garnet…”
“Yes, Lady Druid?”
“Thanks for calling to let me know. The fake summons to meet you where people try to kill me have gotten old.”
“I’m sure they have. I’ll see you soon.”
“Dress code?”
“As you are, will be fine.”
The call ends, and I look down at my Pikachu pajamas. He likely doesn’t mean that literally.
“Fi. Yer dancin’ around like yer gonna wet yer pants.”
“Yes! Thank you.” I turn and rush to the hall as his laughter echoes behind me.
“Yer ridiculous!”
I’m showered, dressed, and manage to down a plate of pancakes and bacon and a cup of tea before Anyx knocks. I open the back door and hold up my hand.
The man is a brawny blond with a bodyguard’s stature and the leonine features that hint at his dual nature.
He looks at my proffered hand, chuckles, and makes spidery fingers on my palm. Then we meet palm-to-palm, and he folds his middle finger over mine. “So, we’re going with this as the secret handshake, are we?”
“Yep. Fool me once it’s on my head. Fool me twice I’m as good as dead.”
Emmet comes out of the kitchen and snorts. “You realize that’s not at all how that goes, right?”
“I made it more relevant to my situation.”
“And everything is about you?”
“I never said everything is about me…but when it comes to empowered ambushes and unjustified attacks, it usually is.”
“She’s not wrong,” Dillan calls from the kitchen.
“Fine. I’ll give you that.” Emmet leans in and holds out his palm. “I’ve seen you around, but we haven’t officially met. Hey, there. I’m Emmet. Can I say, the whole turning into a lion thing—very cool. Congrats on that.”
Dillan and Calum come out, and another round of intros and shaking ensues. When it’s over, Anyx looks at me expectantly.
“I take it we should go?”
“He hopes for you not to be late to your first meeting.”
“Set the expectations high, and there’s nowhere to go but down,” Dillan
comments.
I laugh and grab my jacket. “Oh, I’m sure they’ll learn soon enough to drop their expectations. Be good, boys. No picking on Sloan. He’s new. I don’t want you to break him.”
“Och, what’s this, Irish?” Calum lays on the brogue. “The wee lass fights yer battles for ye now? Ye haven’t the stones to face us yerself?”
“My stones are fine, thanks.” Sloan juts his chin out and casts me a look. “If they’re dishin’ it, I can take it.”
I wince. “Oh, no, surly. You did not just say—”
“Challenge accepted.” Dillan slaps high-fives with Emmet and Calum. “Oh, you’re toast, dude.”
I look at Anyx and back at them. “Okay, I’d say play nice, but that won’t happen. Please, don’t make him cry. I hate it when you make my boyfriends cry. Remember, I like this one. I want to keep him.”
“No promises.” Emmet waves over his head as he swaggers back into the kitchen.
I grab a cinnamon bear claw off Dillan’s plate and dip it into his pond of syrup. Taking a bite, I hold out my free hand to Anyx. “We might as well go. The wheels of torture have been set in motion. There’s no stopping that train now.”
Anyx, as usual, shows no opinion on anything. He accepts my palm, and I smile up at him.
“Beam us up, Scottie.”
I’m portaled into a room I’ve been in one other time. It’s a sleek office behind the frosted glass wall of a lit clock face. The first time I was here, Garnet’s men tried to put me in my place by roughing me up. That ended with one man portaled to the lair of the Wyrm Dragon Queen as a snack and a wolf shifter vivisected by my spirit bear.
Good times.
I glance down at the spot on the floor where the body fell and try to feel bad about it. Garnet was upset. I’m good with it. I quickly learned that when it’s kill or be killed in the empowered world, I’d rather be the former than the latter.
You good, Red?
I brush a hand over my chest and send Bruin a warm and fuzzy across our bond. Yeah. I was thinking about our first time here and how awesome you were protecting me from that attacking wolf. Killer Clawbearer to the rescue.
A Witch’s Revenge (Chronicles of an Urban Druid Book 4) Page 2
