“I assure you, I’ve got enough power where I needed it,” Dar snapped.
“Oh, aye, lad,” Raibeart agreed a little too mockingly. “I can see that. Ya look right fierce for a dandy. Ya took those punches well.”
“Demon form doesn’t really go with the human décor,” Dar adjusted his clothing, pulling at his sleeves to straighten his bloody shirt. He kept a wary eye on Niall. “But I can use it if I have to.”
“Take it easy, dandy, I’m only having a bit of fun,” Raibeart soothed. “So, demon boy.” He made a show of eyeing him up and down. “I’ve heard of an Irish demon named Valor. That ya?”
“That joker’s overrated,” Dar quipped. Malina could well guess that he’d be nervous by the magickal firepower in the room, but he was holding his own well. Not many people would stay standing upright after a Niall beating.
“So which one are ya?” Raibeart inquired conversationally. “What have ya done that I’d have heard of?”
“Rail—” Niall tried to interrupt.
“Quiet, and that’s an order,” Raibeart said. “I’ve always told ya, Niall, that ya are too rash to act. We’re warlocks. We literally have all the time in the world. I’ll not be killing anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”
“Demons are evil. What more do ya need?” Niall stated.
“Who told ya that nonsense? That’s like saying all warlocks are evil, or all strippers want to steal your money,” Raibeart dismissed.
“Dar is a luck demon,” Malina explained. She glanced at Dar and started to say more, “He—”
“Darragh Lahey.” Dar cut her off to speak for himself. He gave a small bow of his head. Just like Raibeart, his tone ridiculed the situation as he played up the role of a harmless dandy. “Lord of Luck. I giveth. I taketh. I’m a good friend to have at the gaming tables.”
“Darragh,” Raibeart repeated. “Nope never heard of ya, Lord Dandy Luck.”
“Well, I’ve heard enough. This isn’t a speed date,” Niall interrupted. “Malina, step aside. This is for your own good. He’s bewitched ya. Just like last time. I will not fail to protect ya whether ya want me to or not.”
“Why don’t you let her make up her own mind?” Dar put forth.
“Thalla gu Taigh na Galla,” Niall answered. Go to hell.
“Pòg mo thòin,” Dar answered in perfect Gaelic. Kiss my ass.
“I’m not bewitched,” Malina interrupted. The power coursing through her veins felt amazing. She felt better than she had in years. Her mind swirled with thoughts, none of them bringing her much clarity at the moment. Wild energy made her want to dance, to sing, to drink, to kiss. She wanted to grab Dar by the shirt collar and drag him to bed. She wanted to drive fast through town screaming at the top of her lungs. Oh, or a bar fight. That would be fun to have a down and dirty brawl in some biker roadhouse. The feelings were amazing like she could conquer the world and make it bend to her desires.
“Ya said that last time too. I know ya, my sister. There is no way you’d let a man that close without his working some kind of spell angle. Look at yourself. That much power is not normal. Now move. I promise we will protect ya. I’ll take care of this for ya. I will not fail.” Niall tried to push past her, but she held out her hands to force him back without even touching him. Magick twirled from her fingers, urging him to leave. She was tired of this interruption.
“Aye, ya will not fail now that Raibeart MacGregor, King of the Highlands is here—hey, now,” Raibeart’s tone dropped slightly in disappointment, “why’s the demon wearing the MacGregor ring? Those clan rings have been in the family since before Robert the Bruce became King of Scots. What’s it doing on an Irishman? He’s not a MacGregor, is he? Ya would think I’d remember a demi-demon in the bloodline. Was it Great Aunt Gertrude? She was a wee bit of a wild one. We had a mermaid once, or was it a selkie, or a siren? It might have been a siren. Damn, if I can’t keep track of all the relatives. Which family line do ya belong to, laddie?”
“No,” Niall interrupted before anyone else could answer. “He’s not a MacGregor.”
“Then what’s he doing with the MacGregor seal?” Raibeart insisted.
Malina’s reactions calmed at the question, and she lowered her arms. She gave a guilty glance at her brother and shook her head not wanting him to tell. The uninhabited urges she’d had moments before paled with the reminder of reality. She did have too much power inside her, too much luck. It was making her decisions reckless.
“As a clan elder I demand to know why that man wears our seal,” Raibeart placed his hands on his hips. All levity was gone from his tone, and he seemed unusually somber for once. “Ya know that means he’s under clan protection. It’s a sacred trust. There’s no way he could have stolen it. The rings are enchanted and have to be given freely.”
“Do ya want to tell him, sis, or do ya want me to?” Niall asked.
Malina shook her head in denial again and frowned her plea for his continued silence. Niall arched a brow and nodded toward Raibeart in an inaudible command to speak.
“Because I gave it to him,” Malina said, unable to look at Dar. How was this conversation lucky? His power was supposed to give her luck, not this. She felt Dar’s presence in the room, and it was more than she could bear. Every part of her wanted to be next to him, to defend her decision. Then again, every part of her also wanted to run away and hide the truth from her family. The stupid English rose pedestal they put her one was a hard burden to overcome.
“And why would ya do a fool hearted thing like give a MacGregor ring to a demi-demon?” Raibeart demanded.
“May I speak?” Dar asked.
“No,” Niall stated a little harshly.
“Malina?” Raibeart said in warning. She’d never seen him so concerned before. “Why did ya give him a ring?”
“Because,” Malina whispered to her uncle. There was one truth that was not buried, one she had always known but refused to think about.
“Because why?” Raibeart urged her to finish.
“Because I married him.” Malina’s arm tingled, and she suddenly knew why. Her body had been trying to tell her consciousness all along. The pain radiated from her ring finger toward her heart. She might have destroyed the wedding band, but her subconscious remembered the pleasure she had in receiving it. It wasn’t the piece of metal that her body missed, but everything it represented—a life, hopes, dreams, family, a husband, love. It wasn’t some cardiac event. It was heartbreak, and she’d done it to herself. Dar’s nearness must have triggered the feelings she’d tried so hard to bury, and those denied feelings were demanding she faced the truth of what she was and what she had done.
Malina managed to look at Dar. His serious eyes fixated on her. The memories of that day were half-formed in her head, but she recalled the pleasure she felt when she joined with him in a small chapel. They’d been more than a little drunk and completely inappropriate by the way they kept kissing as the officiant spoke. She nearly choked on the confession, “He’s my husband.”
Niall sighed heavily as if a weight was lifted off him. She pouted at her brother though she couldn’t hate him for trying to clean up her mess and take care of his family.
“Now I’m confused. How long were ya gone from the apartment? Jeepers, lassie, ya work fast,” Raibeart swore. “And why would ya keep your boyfriend a secret? Are ya hiding him from the family because he’s a demon, or because he’s a little foppish?”
“I didn’t marry him tonight,” Malina explained. “It was in Las Vegas in 1960 before I knew he was a demon.”
“And ya conveniently forgot to mention this at the last thousand family dinners?” Raibeart cringed. “I do not envy ya having to break the news to your ma. I think she’s finally going to lock ya in that enchanted tower she’s having built like she’s been threatening to do for the last decade or so.”
“Ma plans to lock me in a tower?” Malina shot in surprise.
“Didn’t ya know about that?” Raibeart gave an uncomfortable
laugh. “Forget I said anything.”
“He tricked her,” Niall inserted to get the conversation back on track. “That’s what demons do. They deceive.”
“Niall, it’s not that simple.” Malina went to where Dar leaned against the wall. He looked as if it was taking all of his energy to stay upright. “He’s not what you think. I was wrong to listen to you last time. You always make me feel like a child who can do nothing right. I was hurt and confused as to why he didn’t tell me what he was.” She touched Dar’s cheek, willing him to take back some the energy he’d given her. She felt him strengthen under her hand. “I’m sorry. I was wrong, wasn’t I? I remember things now. Not all of it makes sense yet, but I remember. How can I be mad that you didn’t tell me about being a luck demon when I didn’t tell you about my being a warlock? Everything happened so fast, didn’t it? We made so many quick decisions.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that he kills people,” Niall said. “Malina, ya know what needs to be done. He needs to be destroyed. Ya might not remember but I—”
“Why does everyone keep saying I kill people?” Dar insisted. “You’re starting to make me sound like some kind of mass murdering serial killer.”
“That’s exactly what ya are,” Niall stated.
“Anyone drinking this?” Raibeart reached for the cheap whiskey and unscrewed the cap. He sniffed it before taking a long drink from the bottle. “Ah. Don’t mind if I do.”
“Ya don’t pull the trigger, but ya supply the bullets,” Niall insisted.
“Gee, wonder where I’ve heard that one before?” Dar muttered sarcastically giving a wry glance at Malina. “Not all beings classified as demons by humans are killers. Half of us aren’t even demons in the evil way they mean the word. They used to call us luck spirits and leave us little offerings to gain our favor until someone hit the wrong influential lord with a dose of what he deserved and a campaign started against us.”
“It might not be what we thought, Niall.” Malina motioned that her brother should back up. “No one died during that casino shooting. Maybe we looked at it wrong. Maybe his intervening saved those people.”
“Those situations are rare,” Dar offered. “Most of the time, I take luck from the undeserving and give it to the worthy. I keep just enough for myself to survive.”
“And that man in the hospital room Rory saw ya with? He deserved enough bad luck to kill him?” Niall asked.
“What are you talking about?” Malina frowned. “What man?”
“Ask him. While ya were in the hospital, he was next door killing your neighbor—a guy recovering from surgery who’d done nothing to deserve it.” Niall’s gaze dared Dar to deny it.
“You really are a Neanderthal. You don’t understand anything about luck do you?” Dar slowed his words as if speaking to a child. “Death is not always unlucky. Living is not always lucky. I gave that man a large infusion of good luck. I didn’t know it would mean his death, but I can only guess that he was in for a very hard, lonely road if fate chose death as his blessing.”
“It is not yours to decide,” Niall stated.
“How do you know?” Dar debated. “Maybe it is. I was given my powers for a reason. Maybe that reason is to help those who need it and to take from the real assholes who don’t. Maybe it’s not yours to judge. Did you ever think about that? Maybe you shouldn’t be messing around with people’s lives—like that Charlotte. Even I could see she is walking a very thin line of sanity. I barely touched her, and she spiraled—”
Niall tried to throw a ball of magick at Dar, who managed to dodge it by darting to the side. It hit the wall and fizzled.
“—downhill fast,” Dar finished.
“How is Charlotte?” Malina felt a little selfish not thinking about the woman until that moment.
“She’s with Rory and Euann. We’re still trying to figure out what he did to her,” Niall stated.
“Ach, don’t be so theatrical,” Raibeart said between drinks. “She looked better to me than she has in a long time. Ya are just mad because she gave ya that black eye.”
“Charlotte did that?” Malina couldn’t help the laughter in her tone. “You were bested by a human girl?”
“Raibeart, put the drink down and help me,” Niall ordered.
“Ya do realize we can’t kill him now even if we wanted to,” Raibeart said. “To do so would negate all the protected rings’ powers. Those we’ve given them to over the years would fall to great harm because the pact was broken.”
“What are you talking about? They’re just family rings,” Malina said.
“Ya should pay attention to the old ways, lassie. Ya have a thing or two to learn about your heritage,” Raibeart returned.
Malina felt his words like a smack on the face. Just another reminder that she was considered different.
“We did him harm, and nothing came of the ring enchantment,” Niall argued.
“Don’t remind me,” Dar muttered. They ignored him.
“I’m sure it’s just a family legend,” Niall said.
“Well, maybe that’s not one of the enchanted ones.” Raibeart gave a small wave of dismissal. “Maybe it was the green stones that were enchanted, and the red ones were cursed? Why are ya asking me about the rings, anyway?”
“I can attest to it being cursed,” Dar interjected. “The second it was put on my finger my wife tried to kill me.”
“Not the very second,” Malina denied. “I forgot how dramatic you could be.”
“Fine. That same night,” Dar corrected with a hint of irritation. He was clearly starting to feel a little better. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m the injured party here. I didn’t expect to spend my honeymoon in a ball of flames and then taking a dirt nap because my wife decided she’d made a mistake.”
A twinge of annoyance filled her. That was not how it had happened, and he knew it. She argued, “I didn’t expect to be married to a demon.”
“Like you have room to talk,” he scoffed. “You’re a warlock.”
“You attacked my home. You sent ghosts,” she continued in exasperation.
“You tried to kill me first.”
“And goblins, and—”
“You had your brother set me on fire.”
“—gremians, and fairies, and—”
“Do you know how hard it is regenerate burns?”
“—leprechauns. Who the hell summons leprechauns? What could have possibly made you think that was a good—”
“I’ll tell you what’s hell. Hell is trying to regenerate burnt flesh. You wouldn’t believe the smell. Try walking around like a charbroiled steak for a year and see how you like it.” His nearness made her pulse quicken.
“Those little leprechaun bastards tried to stone me,” she charged.
“Hel-lo,” Dar drawled. “You sent me to a fire realm to hang out with full-blooded real demons.”
“Aye, those two are married,” Raibeart announced with a laugh. “No doubt about it.” He motioned toward the bed. “Hey, are ya going to eat the rest of that pizza?”
“We just ate,” Niall grumbled.
“Help yourself,” Dar offered. His eyes moved between Malina and Niall. She couldn’t blame him for not trusting any of them. “I lost my appetite.”
“Raibeart, a little help please?” Niall motioned toward his sister.
“Oh, right, welcome to the family, laddie. We like to run bare-arsed in the woods on Tuesdays. You’re free to join us if ya can keep up. And, ah, good luck when ya meet your new ma. Thanks for the pizza. If ya get those ghosts out of our house, it will go a long way into helping your case. In this family, we clean up our own messes,” Raibeart said.
“Since when?” Malina arched a brow. That last statement wasn’t true at all.
Raibeart snickered as he took the pizza box and bottle of whiskey before heading out the door. “Ya coming, Niall?”
Her magick again flared up in warning when Niall didn’t immediately leave. Her brother looked as if he
wanted to fight her, to demand she listened to him, but she didn’t want to hear it. She urged him with a luck-charged power to leave. This time she would not act rashly. She wasn’t the same girl she was before.
Raibeart came back to the doorway. “I got it. Red is djinn. I never took ya for the control type, Malina.”
“What red?” Niall asked in exasperation.
“By order of the MacGregor, I command ya to obey,” Raibeart announced in an overly authoritative tone, only to order Dar, “Sing!”
“I’m not singing anything, you crazy ole—” Dar began, only to break instantly into a Dean Martin ballad. Red smoke filtered from the ring up his arm. The further the smoke climbed, the louder and more heartfelt Dar’s singing began.
Raibeart swayed his hips and laughed as he danced with the pizza and liquor. “Your dandy’s not a bad crooner, Malina.” He sang along, only he didn’t know the exact words, only the rhythm, so he added, “Bah, bah, bum, bum-bum-bum. Bah, bah, bum…”
“What did you do to him?” Malina gave Dar a little shake. He tried to grab her hands and dip her into a dance move. She barely dodged being swept off her feet.
“Raibeart, stop this at once.” Niall’s every gesture was filled with frustration.
“Oh, fine, by order of the MacGregor ya can stop now,” Raibeart commanded. The singing instantly ended mid-note. “See there, nothing to worry about. Malina has complete control of him. She gave him one of the djinn traps.”
“By order of the MacGregor I demand ya leave this place at once and never bother us again,” Niall said to Dar.
“By order of the MacGregor I demand you don’t follow Niall’s commands unless you want to,” Malina countered. Dar blinked in momentary confusion.
“Dammit, Malina, he’s no good for ya,” Niall growled. “By order of the Mac—”
“If Malina gave him the ring her orders will always supersede ours,” Raibeart said.
“Djinn? Like a genie? Three wishes, that kind of thing?” Malina asked her uncle. She’d never been around a genie before.
“I never understood why everyone things ya can only have three. A djinn enslavement is an enslavement. It lasts as long as it lasts.” Raibeart shrugged. “Now, let’s go, Niall. I have this pizza. I’ll eat. Ya drive.”
Cauldrons and Confessions (Warlocks MacGregor Book 4) Page 10
