Cauldrons and Confessions (Warlocks MacGregor Book 4)

by Michelle M. Pillow

  He nodded. “Aye. Everything. Don’t ya by now?”

  “No. Not completely. The memories are there, not erased, but locked tightly away like you promised me you would.” She touched Niall’s arm. “It must have been horrible if I asked you to do that to my mind, and I’m too afraid to pry for details. I don’t think I want to see what’s in there. But, what I need to know is…”

  “Anything,” Niall said.

  “Is he truly evil? We know for sure? We had proof? He hurts people. He deserves…” Her voice choked as she recalled seeing Dar looking at her from the trunk of a car. The more she tried not to remember, the harder the images sought to be seen. The woman with the dog turned a corner, leaving the street empty except for a couple of parked cars.

  “Ya saw for yourself,” Niall assured her. “Ya wanted proof and ya bid me to wait. Do ya remember the shooting in the casino? All those people Dar—”

  “Stop,” Malina commanded, overcome with intense guilt. If she demanded they wait and then people died because of it, she’d be to blame. That would be reason enough to lock those memories away. Who could live with something so awful? Sorrow churned throughout her entire body. She desperately needed Niall to stop talking.

  There was one indisputable fact she knew for sure—she couldn’t go through it again. Not again. She couldn’t live through the pain of watching. It had taken her years and magickal spells to move past the memories, which were now waiting for the magick lock to burst open. She was too afraid to look inside.

  “Ya were never crowned a Scottish king, Uncle Raibeart,” Euann argued from the card table. “So ya can’t claim royal rights with the local women.”

  “The ladies don’t protest,” Raibeart bragged.

  “I’m done having this conversation,” Euann dismissed.

  “Whoa, hold on a minute. Malina, are ya,” Rory stood and forced her to face him, “crying?”

  Malina wiped the single tear from her cheek. “No.”

  “She’s worried,” Niall stated. He gave the other three men a stern expression as if to scold them for goofing off. “As we all should be.”

  “Aw, what’s to worry about?” Euann said dismissively. It was his way of comforting his sister. He put his arm around Malina’s shoulders. “He’s a luck demon, and I don’t believe in luck.”

  “You should,” Malina countered. “The right string of bad luck could kill every one of us. It could kill everyone in this town.”

  Loud knocks sounded on the door. They all tensed and turned in unison. When no one answered, the pounding became louder. “Hey, slumlord, I know you’re in there! I saw your motorcycle outside, and I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

  “Oh, crap, I don’t know which lassie that is, but tell her I’m not here,” Raibeart entreated as he ran to hide in the bathroom, clearly thinking the woman screaming was for him. The others didn’t pay their uncle much mind.

  Malina studied Niall who didn’t move. He actually appeared worried and gave no indication that he was going to answer the woman.

  “Is that Charlotte?” Euann asked, going for the door. “Dammit, Niall, what did ya do to her now?”

  “Don’t propose,” Rory blurted, going after Euann. “Seriously, you’re not in love with her. Don’t make me lock ya in a trunk again.”

  “Shut up,” Euann grumbled before opening the door. He gave a wide smile as he said, “Hello, love. I was just thinking about ya.”

  “Oh, ah, hey, Euann. Is your brother here?” Charlotte asked. Her naturally brown hair had been colored red and was piled on the top of her head in a messy bun. Her jeans and flannel shirt were wet as if she’d been kneeling down to clean.

  The woman was pretty, with the kind of perfect skin most ladies would kill for. Ever since her supernatural ordeal and subsequent memory erasing, her eyes had taken on a kind of wild sheen. They darted around suspiciously like a feral cat that trusted no one.

  “I like what you’ve done with your hair,” Euann answered instead. “Fiery!”

  “Uh, thanks.” Charlotte pushed a wayward strand way from her face with the back of her hand. It instantly fell back down. “Where’s that slumlord brother of yours?”

  “Hello, Charlotte,” Niall answered in an even, dry tone. “What can I do for ya?”

  Charlotte’s eyes met Niall’s, and she frowned. “The point of having a phone number to leave messages on is to actually check the messages so your tenants can get ahold of you when shit goes wrong in your crappy building.”

  “This is not a slum. I live here, too,” Niall defended his apartment.

  “I’ve been calling for a month. That makes you a slumlord.” She glanced around his home.

  “What can I do for ya, Charlotte?” Niall repeated. “I’m a little busy tonight.”

  “Oh, let’s see. You can fix the drain pipe in my ceiling that you promised was taken care of before I drown. You can tell the people in the apartment above me to stop running their dishwasher until it’s fixed because they keep telling me they’re not but I can hear it, and I get flooded with their dirty dishwater through my bedroom ceiling light fixture. I can’t keep up with the buckets when I’m working the two jobs I have to have to pay for this overpriced place. And you can replace my mattress because it’s ruined. And you can pay for the chiropractor visit I’m going to need after sleeping on a lumpy couch for too much longer.”

  “I promise it will be taken care of first thing tomorrow,” Niall answered calmly. “Anything else?”

  His tone only seemed to aggravate Charlotte more. “I swear, I don’t know how you are related to my best friend’s husband.” She began to leave only to stop. “Yeah, there is another thing. Fix the security on the front and back entrances. I don’t need gangster looking guys at my door asking questions about you. If you are in deep with a bookie, then that’s your business. I don’t want that nonsense coming at me. I have enough to do.” She paused and glanced at the other MacGregors standing in the apartment. “It’s great seeing you all again. Have a nice night.”

  Charlotte pulled the door shut before anyone could speak.

  “Gangsters? What the—” Euann began.

  The door opened two seconds later. It was still Charlotte. “Speaking of bookies, here is Mr. 1950s Mobster now.” She called down the hall. “Don’t bother knocking at my door again. He’s in here.”

  Malina shared a look with Niall, and in unison, they said, “Dar.”

  “Charlotte, get away from the door.” Niall shot forward and grabbed the woman before she could leave. She screamed in startlement and flailed her arms. Niall pushed her so she landed behind him on the couch. “Stay there.”

  Malina ran for the door to slam it shut, but couldn’t stop herself from looking. That extra second of curiosity cost her. It was true. He wasn’t an apparition or hallucination.

  Dar pushed his way in before she could gather her senses from the shock of seeing him again, knowing he was alive. It didn’t take much of his strength to knock her out of the way as she stumbled back on weak legs.

  Tears filled her eyes, and she had to blink them back to keep them from falling. A tight pain gripped her chest as she gazed at his face. There was no joy in his expression as he stared at her, and there was only sorrow inside her when she looked at him. All the heartache she’d experienced over the years pushed forward in a rush of chaotic emotions—fear, relief, happiness, anger. He was alive. He was there. He was… pissed off.

  “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “You were dead. I saw you dead.”

  Charlotte shoved her way past Niall, not listening to his command to stay back. “Don’t touch me!”

  “Charlotte, don’t.” Malina tried to reach for her, but the woman was too fast as she swung her arms to keep from being touched.

  “What’s wrong, doll face? Don’t you want to introduce me to your friends?” Dar bumped into Charlotte as she attempted to move past. The woman stumbled at an awkwardly unlucky angle and hit the doorframe. He caught her
and patted her on the head. A strange sheen came to the woman’s eyes as he infused her with luck. Malina could only assume it was the bad kind.

  “Let go of her!” Euann tried to heave himself forward, but both Niall and Malina thrust their magick at him, throwing him back. He smacked the wall hard and slumped to the floor.

  “Ya can’t,” Niall said. “Not while he’s touching her. She’s too weak. Any more bad luck could kill her.”

  “Dar, let her go,” Malina insisted. “She’s human. She has nothing to do with us. She’s fragile.”

  “Human?” Charlotte repeated, confused. “I don’t feel well.”

  “Just a bit of bad luck,” Dar said. “It would appear I have extra tonight.”

  “Reverse it,” Niall said, holding out his bare arm for Dar to touch. “Ya don’t want her. Ya want us. Take me instead.”

  “Is she gone? I’m sorry I’m such a ladies’ magnet. They can’t seem to stay away from me.” Raibeart came from the bathroom wearing Niall’s robe. His bare legs poked out from under the bottom hem. He frowned to see the new gathering in the small living room. “Oh, it’s only crazy Charlotte. And who’s this fella with her?”

  “Don’t call her that,” Euann said from where he still lay against the wall trying to catch his breath. “She’s not crazy.

  “Lad, when you’ve had your brains swirled, and your memories plucked as much as that lassie has, ya can’t help but be crazy,” Raibeart countered. “Now get your arse up at meet Charlotte’s new beau. That’s no way to greet company.”

  Dar eyed Charlotte. A trail of blood came from her nose. “What are you? You’re not one of them, that much is clear.”

  “Please, help me. I have blackouts and seizures. I need to get to the hospital.” Charlotte swayed and gripped his arm.

  “Seizures?” Niall demanded in concern. “Since when?”

  “She is full human, isn’t she,” Dar said in surprise.

  “So, you’re still messing with people’s lives. What the hell did you do to this one? I barely touched her which means she was unbalanced to begin with.” Dar went from restraining Charlotte to holding her up protectively. He backed out of the apartment into the hallway. “But you must care about her if you’re so worried about what I’ll do to her. Does she have something of value in her memories that you want? Been digging around in there, have you?”

  Niall and Malina both made a move to follow him.

  “Dar, you didn’t come here for Charlotte.” Malina lifted her hand toward him. “You came for me. I’m the one you’re mad at.”

  “You’re right about that, doll,” he said. “This was not how I’d planned the evening to go. It would seem the ghosts tried to take more good luck than I wanted to give them and left me a little drier than I realized. I should have known those two brats were up to something when they gave me a private bedroom to sleep in.”

  “What were ya doing in our house?” Rory demanded. “What do ya want?”

  “Rory, I need ya to keep Raibeart out of the way. We got this,” Niall ordered.

  “Like hell I will,” Rory denied. “Ya watch him. I’m not a babysitter.”

  “Move over, young’uns, let a real cowboy teach ya how to showdown,” Raibeart said in a very bad, very drunken Texas accent.

  “Shit,” Rory swore. She heard him leave to stop Raibeart from helping.

  “Your bed is very comfortable, by the way.” Dar kept his eyes steadily on hers as if he couldn’t look away. “Smells like I remember you.”

  Malina did not need the image of him in her bed circulating in her thoughts. Even now, she wanted to touch him. Another memory unlocked and she heard laughter, her laughter joined by his. Her vision fogged, and she whispered, “Take it back.”

  “What?” Dar asked, confused. “Take back that I was in your pretty little house with your pretty little things? The years have given you more than you deserve.”

  “Take it back,” she repeated just as she had in the past. She saw his eyes and remembered when they were joyous and happy next to her on the bed with silky blue sheets when they were not glaring at her in anger from across the hallway. The complete memory was there, just beyond her grasp, a word on the tip of her tongue that had been lost. “I’m not just a one-week stand. Tell me you love me.”

  “Your spells won’t work this time, warlock,” he mocked. The hard tone drew her from the past, and she gasped as her vision cleared into the present. The hallway of apartment doors was not the place to have a mental breakdown, let alone a fight.

  “Let her go, demon,” Malina returned, strengthening her resolve against the invading past. Those memories were all lies anyway, a mistake she’d buried for a reason. “Can’t you see that poor girl’s had enough bad luck all on her own? She’s got nothing to feed you with.” Malina again offered her arm. Her hand tingled, and she knew it was somehow his doing. If he touched her, she might not survive the heart attack threatening her chest. “But I do. As you said, the years have been very kind to me. Give the girl some of my luck and let her go. There is no challenge in killing a human. Let Rory and Euann take care of her. Take me in her place. I give you my word I will walk with you out of this building.”

  “Malina, no,” Niall demanded before saying to Dar, “Take me instead of Charlotte and my sister. I’m the one who dealt the final blow. It was my idea to attack ya.”

  “Not so final a blow, was it?” Dar laughed, though the sound held no merriment. “But it did hurt like hell trying to crawl back into my charred skin.”

  The memory of burning flesh crept into her nose, and Malina gagged. Dar used the moment to reach forward and grab her offered arm. She felt him drain part of her essence from her body. Pain stabbed her in the chest like a twisting knife. Her breath caught as she gasped for air.

  She had the vague impression of Charlotte being shoved toward Niall. The woman made a surprised noise.

  “Dammit, Malina!” her brother swore. “Ya don’t have to do this.”

  Dar jerked her along with him down the hall. It was a strange sensation, being so devoid of energy and magick. One touch and he took all coordination from her. She tried to punch him and missed, hitting a wall. Her fingers cracked, and she yelped in pain. Aiming she tried to slap him. Her feet stumbled, and she nearly twisted her ankle.

  “Bad luck’s a bitch, isn’t it?” Dar taunted.

  Niall and Rory ran up behind them. An apartment door opened, and a tenant shoved a chair out into the hall. The two men crashed into the furniture, and then into the tenant, tumbling over in a mass of contorted limbs.

  The pain inside Malina became more severe, and she felt her mind edging toward blackness. What seemed like seconds passed but she blinked and found herself on the street being shoved into the passenger seat of a running car.

  “So nice of someone to leave me a getaway vehicle,” Dar said to no one in particular as he slipped into the driver’s seat. He leaned over to grab her seat belt and strapped her in. “You should buckle up, doll face. The fates are not smiling too kindly on you right now. I’d hate for a car to hit your side of the vehicle and send you flying.”

  He winked at her, and she gave him a soft, confused smile. “Take it back. I’m not just a one-week stand.”

  “No, doll, you’re much worse than a one-night stand. You’re a lifetime mistake.” Dar put the car into gear and took off speeding down the quiet small town street.

  Chapter 10

  Dar tapped his index finger alongside his temple as he stared at Malina on the bed. Some businessman had been called away suddenly, and the room had become available as Dar pulled into the parking lot. The man had left behind a bottle of unopened whiskey. A knock sounded on the door, and Dar frowned as he leaned to pull back the curtain. A delivery boy stood with a couple of pizza boxes.

  He opened the door cautiously, eyeing the parking lot behind the kid.

  The delivery boy handed a receipt to Dar. “Large pepperoni extra cheese. Breadsticks. Paid online. All I need is a
signature.”

  “Don’t mind if I do. I am a bit peckish.” Dar wrote in a sizable tip and scribbled a line across the bottom by way of a signature before handing it back.

  “Cool suit, daddy-o.” The kid snapped his fingers at pointed at Dar like he was shooting two finger guns.

  “I think those threads are a little dated myself,” Malina said behind him when he closed the door. He hadn’t heard her move. He wasn’t worried. Luck was still with him. Besides, it’s not like she could trick him twice. He knew what she was this time and wouldn’t be falling for her enchantress ways.

  “No one asked for your opinion.” Dar turned.

  Malina sat at the end of the bed staring at him. Dark circles marred the flesh under her eyes as if she’d not slept for days, even though she’d just been passed out. He tried to ignore any concern that stirred inside him. Everything she did was a manipulation, down to each pitiful look and pretty gesture.

  “Old suits, bottom shelf whiskey, pizza, and a cheap hotel room. My how things have changed since the glory days.” She gave a mocking laugh. “Dumb luck not paying the bills like it used to?”

  “This is more than a woman like you deserves,” he quipped in return. Damn, she still made his heart beat faster with just a look. He wanted to kiss her as much as he wanted to scream at her. “Did you think I’d splurge for the honeymoon suite?”

  If he didn’t know better, he would have thought his words hurt her. She looked away and pretended to study the painted landscape on the wall.

  “You can try running if you like,” he offered. “Or try hitting me again. I won’t lift a hand to stop you.”

  “No thanks, I’m good.” She held up the hand she’d hit against the wall at the apartment building. “I have a feeling my luck has only gotten worse.”

  He tossed the pizza box on the bed next to her. “Eat something. You look horrible.”

  “Maybe because someone turned my home into a ghost dance party, my garden into a leprechaun colony, and my dining room into a goblin den,” she answered, even as she flipped open the box.