by Kate Gellar
Sam followed and all three men joined Liam, the shortest of the three. Abby saw an edgy boy band in the making. No, scratch that, a man band.
Four sets of eyes roamed the eager sea of faces in the room. Sam’s gaze stopped on hers and he smiled. “Looking better than a few hours ago, Miss Brennan.”
Abby smiled and nodded, pretending not to notice the curious gazes from other two men she hadn’t met.
“This is Brendan.” Sam pointed at the model. Brendan winked at her.
And a flirt, too.
“And this is Murphy.” The biker boy snapped his gaze to her. He made her shiver—in a weird way. He gave her a quick nod and looked elsewhere. She wasn’t sure what to make of Murphy.
“I see Liam is giving you a little history lesson without us,” said Sam. Was that irritation in Sam’s voice she detected? “But today is all about getting your bearings, so feel free to explore the grounds. We will assign you work tomorrow. Today Clara has prepared a welcome lunch for you in the kitchen. Enjoy yourselves while you can. This is a working exchange, and starting tomorrow, you’ll fend for yourself.”
The four men exited the room leaving the women alone to discuss the hot specimens.
“I’m starving,” said one of the girls who got up and followed the men.
That sounded like a good plan. A few mirrored the girl’s action.
Abby hung back with Sylvie. “I guess we should follow?”
Sylvie shrugged. “I never like to follow a man, but my stomach says otherwise.”
10
Murphy
Murphy didn’t give a flying fuck about what Sam said. Bringing potential mates to live with four red-blooded males at the house was plain creepy. Why would he give a girl he’d never met the power to control him? He was his own man.
Fuck. Her doe eyes had trapped him like a deer in headlights. Liam, the cute innocent book nerd, was practically going caveman over Abby, and Brendan, the laid back one in the group, was pulling out all the flirt tricks in his manwhore book.
Murphy didn’t need to put on an act to get a girl. He could have anyone he wanted by being himself. Liam, Brendan, and Sam had been a team before he came along a year ago to help them protect the seal. His duty only came to light after his father, the biggest loser in town, had died of alcohol poisoning (good riddance). His death passed on to Murphy the only thing of worth his old man owned. Murphy had resisted the power at first, and the feeling that he needed to belong. He’d done all right on his own for years. Hell, he’d even tried to leave Ireland, but following an awakening of his powers he was drawn to goddamn castle and these three goddamn boys who were now like brothers to him.
The women upped and followed them the second they left the living room. When it came to food, Murphy forewent manners. There would be no chivalry in the kitchen; no “you go first, please.” When hunger struck, he ate. End. Of.
The chatter that had been loud when he, Brendan, and Sam had entered the living room, quietened to a whisper behind him. His skin tightened at the girls’ proximity to him, close enough to invade his personal space. He’d noticed their eyes devour him the second he entered the room. This castle didn’t only house red-blooded males. The tattoos and biker jacket were always a novelty, a turn on where the ladies were concerned. And his grisly personality kept them keen.
He’d checked out a few when they weren’t looking, unlike Brendan who liked to watch when they watched. One or two of the girls were Murphy’s type. Yeah, he could picture a casual fling with a couple of blondes in the group. Maybe he’d get to know them a little while they were here. No deep meaningful shit, just a little fun to take the edge off his raging hard-on. Because, fuck, he was hard all the time. He hadn’t had sex since his father’s passing ignited this damn legacy.
Murphy was a one-woman man, meaning one woman at a time. Threesomes were hard work and he hated sharing. Maybe that stemmed back to his home life and the instability his whoring father bought to his life. This situation he had with his boys, well, it tied him to the place, to the legacy, and this crazy idea that one woman could give all four enough strength to close the seal permanently.
He’d never seen the seal open. Sam had, twice. Once three years ago, around the time his parents died. He insisted the two events weren’t related, but Murphy didn’t buy it. But he wouldn’t pry in Sam’s personal life, either. The second time was a year ago, right before Murphy turned up at the gates to Drumm castle. Sam had said the paranormal activity was so great in the castle, none of them could sleep. Only when Sue and Mary, the head witches of the local coven, intervened to help round up the demonic souls did they return to their realm. Murphy would have to take Sam’s word for it. Liam and Brendan had been doing this gig for two years longer than him. They were less skeptical, and more accepting, of this shit than him.
A tray of sandwiches on the kitchen table beckoned to him. Murphy lunged for it and grabbed a handful of sandwiches from the table, then slipped outside before the rest of the girls spoiled his lunch with their incessant chatter. He passed through the mudroom, where all the outdoor gear like hats, boots, and jackets were kept, and out the back door. He took long even strides toward the castle’s perimeter wall, not stopping until he no longer heard the women through the open kitchen window. While he walked, he stuffed the first sandwich into his mouth.
The problem Murphy had was he didn’t fully believe the legend stories told down through the centuries about four guardians who swore to protect the seal from otherworldly menaces. But his curiosity wasn’t the real reason he was at the castle. When his father had died, an overwhelming need to come drew him here, to this castle. And he couldn’t be certain, but the energy in the castle felt more active since Abby Brennan showed up.
The distance from the others felt good. These days the guardianship felt like a noose around his neck. But the good feeling the distance brought didn’t last; the closer to the perimeter wall he got, the tighter the noose became. Maybe it was the protection spell that made it feel like he was treading water.
A set of fast-moving footsteps alerted him. He turned to see Brendan running to catch up.
“Too much for you in there?” asked Brendan.
He was the player of the group. The one with a posh Dublin accent that was an instant hit on the west coast of Ireland, and the one most likely to charm girls into bed on nights out. Not that he’d tried it on any of the invitees since Murphy showed up and took the same oath they all had to protect the castle. Along with that oath came a promise: to wait for the girl who completed their four.
He hadn’t planned it, but since Murphy joined this merry band of brothers, his sex life had dried up completely.
“You too, by the look of ya.” Murphy nodded at him. “I thought you’d be lappin’ that shit up.”
Brendan flashed his trademark cocky smile. “Too much, even for me. The girls are nice, but can’t say I’m feeling it.”
Murphy knew what he meant. None of the girls gave off a vibe of compatibility.
“What do you think of that American bird, Abby?”
“Not much.” Murphy shrugged hoping Brendan would drop the subject.
“Because, I dunno.” Brendan glanced back at the castle. “Sam got a vibe from her at the airport, and Liam said sparks literally flew when he shook her hand.”
Murphy laughed hard. It was like a fucking Harlequin romance novel around here at times. “Sparks flew? Next you’ll be tellin’ me Liam’s in love.”
Brendan smiled. “You never know with him.”
Liam was the shy, quiet one. The cute one. The dreamer.
The youngest of their group and the one who the girls gravitated toward most. It didn’t surprise Murphy to hear Liam had been attracted to her.
Sam was the level-headed leader, the last remaining Alderdyce and original bloodline protector of the castle and seal. He’d been bringing potentials to the house for the last three years, and using the grant money from the arts council to buy the witches’ prote
ction while they searched for a potential match. But the white witches’ magic wasn’t working as well as it once had. They needed a permanent solution, and that solution involved finding the girl.
What would’ve worried Murphy more was if Sam said he’d felt something for Abby.
“What’s that look for, Murph?” said Brendan. “You don’t think she’s in this group?”
“What the fuck do I know? If I feel anythin’, I’ll bleedin let ya know, okay?”
Brendan held his hands up. “All right, man. Don’t bite my head off. Just asking.”
Murphy hadn’t meant to snap, but he felt on edge most days. “Look, I know I made the oath, but I’m not ready to have my future decided for me, okay? And not by three men dyin’ to ride one of them girls in there.”
“It’s called bonding, Murphy. And it’s only with one. Jesus, you can be a crass fucker at times.”
Murphy didn’t disagree. Truth was Murphy was equally dying, too. His dick had a life of its own these days, leading him most evenings to the local pub and the talent on offer. But when it came to getting down and dirty, his dick refused to cooperate. Not that he had a problem down there, but the damn oath had sucked all the fun from his nights out. Ever since the oath, the local girls were about as appealing as a tub of coleslaw left out in the sun too long. It’s not that they weren’t hot. Just not hot enough to maintain his erection.
Murphy walked further from the castle and toward the grazing pastures. “Look, I’m gonna take a walk. Text me when the mob disperses. I’m not ready to learn about their bleedin’ hopes and dreams just yet.”
Brendan walked backward. “Give it a chance, okay? Sam has a good feeling about this group. I know you can sense the castle—it’s coming to life.”
Murphy waved without turning and stuffed another sandwich into his mouth.
Yeah, he felt it. He didn’t want to admit it yet.
11
Abby
Abby barely slept on Sunday night. The temperature had dipped to single digits and her duvet wasn’t thick enough to keep the shivering cold out. Even with air conditioning going full blast at home, she’d never felt the cold like this. Maybe she was still jet lagged and getting used to the time difference.
She sat up in bed and grabbed her phone, then tucked the duvet around her neck. Two messages waited for her.
The first was from Paul.
All good in the house, Abby. Looking forward to interning at the law firm this summer. You’ve done me a huge favor by letting me stay here.
Wendy had sent a message, too. Glad to hear you landed safely. I hope you’re enjoying your trip.
Abby frowned at her best friend’s bland text. No mention of Paul. No quirky reply to her earlier mention of hot guys. This was unlike her friend.
Abby sent a new reply. Everything okay, Wendy? Are you in the house yet?
Then another to Paul. Look after Wendy for me.
She waited ten minutes for a reply from Wendy. The five-hour difference made it 10 p.m. New York time, 3 a.m. where Abby was.
Paul’s came through first. She can look after herself, Abby.
Still nothing from Wendy. Abby put her phone down beside her and curled up under the duvet trying to get warm. Then her phone blinked with a new message. Her heart pounded as she grabbed it.
The message was from Wendy: Yeah, I’m in the house. Paul is fine. I’m fine. Speak to you soon, babe. Love ya.
Abby stared at her phone. Her best friend was acting weird; Wendy never passed up an opportunity to talk about hot guys. Wendy who had the hots for Paul since she was eleven and he was fifteen hadn’t even mentioned their dinner last night. Maybe things hadn’t gone well. She slid her phone onto the bedside table and curled up under the covers, too tired to think about it anymore.
She managed nodded off to sleep, waking up a few hours later to the sounds of birds chirping outside her window. The curtains, too thin to keep out the light, dressed her room in an orange glow. She checked the time on her phone and groaned.
6:15a.m.? Really?
The schedule shoved under her door the day before had instructed everyone to gather for a welcome presentation in the Great Hall at 9 a.m. Breakfast would be served from 8 to 9 buffet-style in the kitchen. While Abby never said no to a prepared meal, she was looking forward to making her own. It would be the first step to her gaining her independence. With Ivy gone, she was all alone. She’d been living with Wendy since then. Now, she lived with a bunch of strangers in a castle, removed from life yet again.
She expected reality to hit her square in the chest soon. A little self-reliance might ease her into this new way of living. As much as she missed her mom, she had to admit Ivy’s death had liberated her from years of guilt and stress.
Abby spent the next two hours staring up at the ceiling. The second her phone read 8 a.m., she got up and collected her towel and soap and headed to the communal bathroom.
The corridor outside her room was quiet, but as she neared the bathroom at a midway point between the two-bedroom corridors, she heard singing coming from inside. Her heart sank when she opened the door and heard the shower going. She prepared for a long wait.
Abby leaned against the sink. The shower’s frosted pane of glass kept the occupant’s identity a secret. Abby huffed out a long breath when the girl finished one song and began a new one. She turned and checked her face in the mirror. Pale skin. Check. Dark circles around her eyes. Double check. She gave serious consideration to washing in the sink, but Abby was bone tired that only a shower could wake her.
She startled when new voices outside neared the room. She grabbed her things and relocated next to the shower as three girls whose names she didn’t know entered. Their conversation dried up the minute they laid eyes on Abby dressed in her robe, with her towel and soap clutched to her body. All three girls gave her the once over, offered a dismissive hi, then picked up their conversation from earlier.
“I think Brendan is hot,” said a brunette.
“Nah, he’s not my type,” said a blonde with an English accent. “His accent is too posh, and Sam has a weird English accent that reminds me too much of home. Murphy on the other hand...perfectly rough around the edges. Have you seen his tattoos? I wonder how far down those go.” She giggled.
“Saw him looking at me,” said the third, with ice-blonde hair, tanned skin, and who looked and sounded Swedish. “He wants me, I can tell.”
“Well, Astrid,” said the first blonde, “you’ll have to wait your turn. Because I saw him first.”
“Only because you arrived first, Emma. That doesn’t count.”
The girl in the shower turned off the water. Abby released a sigh. She didn’t want to hear about who the girls thought were hot. And she hoped to avoid being included in their conversation. Sylvie appeared from the shower a few moments later with a towel wrapped around her.
“Ah, it’s you, cherie. I thought I ‘eard someone out there. You sleep well?”
“Not really, you?”
Sylvie laughed and strode over to the sink area where the three girls brushed their teeth. She pushed her hand through the steam on the mirror. “I came from France, one-hour time difference and a two-hour flight, tops. I’m as fresh as a daisy.”
Standing next to the shower, Abby looked like an apparition in the mirror. Sylvie had a beautiful warm glow to her skin. Keen not to make another comparison she said, “I’m going to take a quick shower.” She hoped Sylvie and the other girls would get the hint and give her privacy.
“Don’t mind us,” said Sylvie, winking at her through the mirror. “Pretend we’re not ‘ere.”
Abby clutched her soap and towel to her chest not sure what to do. She’d never undressed in front of other women before.
“You going to be all day?” said the Swedish girl called Astrid. “We’re all waiting for the shower, you know.”
Stop being a prude, Abby. They’re only women. It’s not like you’re getting naked for the men downstairs. Heat
shot straight to her core and she felt herself get wet at the thought.
Abby took a deep breath and slid her robe off her shoulders, then hung it up. Naked and cold, she rushed inside the cubicle and draped her towel over the glass of the shower enclosure to add a little more privacy. She turned on the shower.
She hesitated at first, fearing the weird shock from the water she’d felt on day one. But when nothing happened, she showered fast, pushing aside extra thoughts about Sam and Liam’s hands on her that made her nipples pebble. She’d felt a spark when her and Liam’s hands touched yesterday. And she was no expert in men but Sam was sending her the interested vibes. Brendan came off as too much of a player who’d make a move on anyone. And Murphy showed zero interest in her. She’d seen him eying up the blondes, Astrid and Emma, when they weren’t looking.
She scrubbed her face and body clean and washed her hair. All sexy thoughts of the men circled down the drain.
Maybe the men were being friendly and she’d imagined their interest in her. This was a formal history program after all, and they probably flirted a little to put the invitees at ease.
Aware of the company that waited, Abby rinsed and turned off the shower, wishing she had this entire bathroom to herself.
She had barely covered her parts with the towel when Emma appeared at the open side of the shower.
“Get out,” she said.
A shocked Abby squeezed past her, slid on her robe, and made a swift exit amid the clinical attention from the two blondes and the brunette that wasn’t Sylvie.
⁎⁎⁎
Breakfast consisted of a modest collection of cereals, bread, fruit, and yogurts. After her 6 a.m. chirping bird alarm call and light assault, Abby’s stomach rumbled hard. She grabbed what she could before a new group of girls entered the room and formed a line. Staying with Wendy for two months on campus gave her a taste of how communal spaces worked. One perk of living at home was having the kitchen all to herself.
