Stirring Up Trouble: A Warlocks MacGregor Novella (4 page)

F
ergus hadn’t expected
Donna to kiss him. Mortals normally couldn’t handle learning about magick. The old witch trials were proof enough of that.

The shock of female hands against his naked flesh made him forget reason. He wanted her terribly, was starved for intimate contact. The ache inside him unfurled from a place of longing and denial. His mind focused on the soft glide of her touch over his chest. He couldn’t have stopped her if he wanted to. The woman held him spellbound more so than pure magick ever could.

The cold plastic of the camera body bumped into him, and the reality of it pulled him from his daze. Donna leaned back. Her heavy breath punctuated the air between them. She lifted the camera strap over her head and set the equipment on the floor. “Why are you in my head?”

“I think…” Fergus didn’t really have an answer. “I think maybe ya are under a spell? Or ya absorbed my magick? That is why you’re not frightened by the knowledge of my clan.”

“Or there is something very real between us. I don’t feel as if I should be frightened. I feel as if this is all meant to be happening.” Donna touched his face and trailed her finger over his lip. “I haven’t been able to think of anything else since you kissed me. I blew a photo shoot this morning because I was up all night baking you cookies. I honestly don’t know why I keep trying to bake. It’s like some strange urge overtakes me and I’m suddenly standing in front of the oven. Even now, there is something in me that wants to feed you.”

“Do ya like me or are ya trying to kill me, lassie?” he teased.

“I’m not sure. Kiss me again and we’ll find out.” Donna didn’t wait for him to obey her request. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him.

Fergus let his magick roll out of him and over her. Though centuries had passed since he’d been with a woman, some instincts remained. In many ways, it was as if time had not progressed. The primal feelings were as real as the day he’d suppressed them. Donna’s kiss woke him up inside, feeding his hungry soul and arousing his dead heart.

Her clothing melted from her body, pooling around her feet. She gave a small gasp as he ran his hands down her naked sides. Magick heated his fingertips and small trails of blue light spread over her flesh. It tingled between them, connecting them. If their bodies pulled away from each other threads of light kept them joined.

“I want to make love to ya,” he whispered.

“I thought that is what you were doing,” she answered playfully.

Still, Fergus needed to be respectful and honest. “I can’t marry ya, lass.”

The words caused a flow of emotions inside him. He hated the honesty in them.

“I respect that,” Donna said. “I didn’t think this was a proposal.”

* * *

M
arriage was
the last thing on Donna’s mind though she could easily admit she didn’t really like hearing the statement. Her head swirled with a combination of desire and intrigue. She looked down to where his magick joined their chests and shoulders. It moved in pulsing threads of soft light between them. The sensation was like nothing she’d ever felt.

When she looked into his eyes, she didn’t fear him. She was apprehensive of the unknown, of a world of magick and warlocks, but she didn’t fear him. Ever since she was a girl, she’d believed in the unseen, had daydreamed of fairies dancing along fence posts, and trolls living at the bottom of the old well. Until now, she hadn’t had any proof, but she’d always felt there was more to the world than science could explain.

As to sex, she was hardly a prude. She had felt the pull of him from that very first moment, a magnetic force that had drawn her to his home, and then to him. A logical mind could analyze what was happening. A fearful heart could find reason to run. Donna couldn’t think logically, and her heart was not filled with fear.

Touching him felt right as if the joining of flesh was what the universe wanted. A dormant piece of herself awoke in a rush of adrenaline. Kissing him was like jumping off a cliff. Touching him was like being beneath a magickal waterfall. Her heart beat a hard rhythm.

Donna took his hand and led him to the bed. She could feel the desire in him as if it were her own. He wanted her but was holding back.

“I want this,” she whispered between kisses. “I want you.”

In that instant, his hands went from hesitant to bold. She made a small sound of surprise as he lifted her up and tossed her on the bed. Within seconds, he was climbing over her. The firm mattress molded along her back as she was pressed into its depths. The glide of flesh against flesh, aided by his powers, cocooned her in pleasure. Nothing outside of this moment mattered. Fragmented thoughts filtered through her mind—the flash of her camera, the sound of a horse’s hooves, the clang of metal, a distant shout. Some of the images made little sense, and she could only assume they somehow came from him.

A deep ache filled her with longing until they were both desperately trying to join. She needed him and felt his need for her. Strands of blue and gold moved over his pupils as he stared into her eyes. It seemed a very long moment before he brought his arousal to brush against her. Seconds ticked by like minutes.

“I want to savor ya,” he whispered.

“You think too much, Gus,” she answered.

“Aye, so I’ve been told.”

Donna pushed his shoulder and forced him onto his back. She straddled his waist, bringing his erection against her sex. Unlike him, she did not slowly savor the moment. She took it hard and fast, fulfilling the desperation growing inside her.

Donna impaled herself on his shaft. He groaned, grabbing her hips to keep her moving on top of him. The magick trails left their skin, floating above them like Northern Lights along the bedroom ceiling. The rhythm of their bodies continued, the movement undulating the current of the lights like waves on the ocean surface.

Color reflected over his handsome face and muscled chest. He skimmed his hands over her breasts and hips, touching as much as he could reach. She rocked faster, the pleasure building. Donna pressed her hands to his chest, steadying herself as she leaned in for another kiss. He slipped his tongue past her lips, triggering their release. She came hard, tensing and jerking with uncompromising force.

She collapsed onto the bed next to him as the tremors subsided. The lights over them began to fade. “I think I can get used to this magick thing, Gus.”

“What makes ya call me that, lass?”

“Gus?” She chuckled. “I’m not sure. You just seem like a Gus to me. Do you mind?”

“No, call me whatever ya like.”

D
onna’s mind
drifted with thoughts as she lay between wake and sleep. Fergus kept her locked in his naked embrace, his muscles tightening anytime she moved as if he was worried she would leave him. Sexual release had brought deep relaxation. Her active mind quieted. Her bones felt like liquid encased in sedated muscles.

“What is a challenge on a challenge, and why can’t you make one?” she asked.

“Ya just learned there is magick in the world, and
that
is the question ya have for me?” Fergus skimmed his fingers over her hip.

Donna chuckled. “Yeah.”

“The MacGregor games have been going on for a long while now. Sporting events are whatever the terrain and weather allow. There are very few rules, but if ya use magick and it goes awry, a side challenge is wagered before everyone can continue on with the game. If ya don’t do it, ya do not advance. I will not explain the point system to ya, but there is an enchanted scroll where the tally is kept. When the games started nearly three hundred years ago, we had no limit on the number of official side challenges as they related to the game, until side challenges became side challenges, which became more side challenges. The main game was never played, and the points could not advance. So about two hundred years ago, Cait decreed no more than one level of official side challenges. Unofficial wagers can be issued at any time by any MacGregor and are more or less like challenges.”

“Did you just say Cait is over two hundred years old?” That piece of knowledge caused Donna’s relaxed body to awaken fully, and she sat up on the bed. Being naked in front of him didn’t bother her. The movement caused the covers to slide down his chest.

“She is not that young, but I’ll be sure to tell her ya think so. Women seem to enjoy the idea of their youth.” Fergus wrapped his fingers around her forearm to keep her from moving farther away from him.

Donna accepted his answer. The breadth of his family, of history and time, made her feel very small. “And how old are you?”

“My nephews would say I was born at the dawn of time.”

“So…” She studied his handsome face. He looked mid-thirties, possibly forties at the oldest. “What? You’re like a thousand?”

“Och, no.” Fergus laughed. “A little over seven.”

“Seven hundred?”

He nodded.

She continued to stare, waiting for him to make some kind of indication he was joking. He did not. Donna hummed softly. “So I guess that would make us a May-December romance?” She gave a small laugh. “More like a BC-AD romance.”

He arched a brow.

“BC-AD. Before Christ-
Anno Domini
?” She clarified. “As in dates. Like the year 456 BC.”

“Oh, I understood, lass, but it was cute to watch ya mind work as ya tried to explain it.” Fergus chuckled. He reached a finger to trace the bottom curve of her breast.

“You could at least pretend I’m funny.” Donna hit him lightly on the leg. “So what other kinds of challenges do you issue?”

“Ya saw naked sledding. There’s naked rafting, boxing, caber tossing, haggis tossing, brother hurling, shinty, curling, pub crawling, cheese rolling, levitation…” He chuckled. “Though, as I said, a MacGregor challenge can be called anytime inspiration strikes a family member. The last wager was a cake eating competition that involved males against females. The men won.”

“That hardly seems fair,” Donna observed. “I’ve only seen three females, and there’s what? Like a hundred of you MacGregor males living here?”

“We are a large family, to be sure, though not quite a full hundred. The clan likes to stick together. It’s safer that way. I like this house. It’s big enough that if my nephews and nieces finally marry, they can being their partners here.”

“Your brothers are married. Why aren’t you?” She knew the question was a little prying, but that didn’t stop her from asking it.

“Raibeart is not married,” Fergus said.

“Who?”

“My oldest brother.”

Donna studied his face. She ran her hand up the center of his chest and then back down again to rest on his stomach. “You said you couldn’t marry me.” Suddenly feeling very exposed, she pulled the bedding to cover her naked body. “It’s because you already have a wife, isn’t it?” She moved away from him, taking the covers with her as she stood by the bed. “That’s it, isn’t it? The reason you were surly toward me. You didn’t want to be attracted to me because you’re married.”

Fergus didn’t speak.

“What’s her name?” Donna felt a little sick. She believed in the sanctity of relationships and had never been with a married man.

“Elspeth,” he whispered.

Elspeth.

The single word kicked her in the gut.

Donna couldn’t look at him. All the happiness from the moments before drained out of her limbs to leave her tense. Her chest ached, a stabbing, sharp pain that did not lessen with deep breaths. “Where is she?”

“I buried her along the border of England and Scotland in the winter of 1591.”

Donna closed her eyes. The fact she wasn’t the other woman should make her feel better, but in reality, what he said was much worse. She would have a chance against a living woman, but a ghost he’d been holding on to for hundreds of years? No. There was no competing against that kind of memory. The fact he still said he was married meant his heart was trapped.

“Tell me about her?” Donna whispered. Why was she torturing herself? The ache grew worse. She found she couldn’t move. She merely stood wrapped in the bedding that smelled of him.

“She was lovely, untarnished. One of those souls that instantly knew the right thing to do no matter how hard it was. She was always smiling. She loved the kitchen. Everyone loved it when she cooked. People would make excuses to come by the house during meal times. No matter how little she had for her pot, she would always share it.”

At that, Donna glanced at him, feeling the comparison. “She sounds perfect.”

“Aye, she was for me. She also had a stubborn streak and a bit of a jealous temper. She knew I would never betray her, and yet she’d glare down any woman who dared look at me too long.”

“I’m sorry you lost her. May I ask how?” When he didn’t speak, she nodded. “I understand. You don’t have to talk about it.”

Donna found her clothes on the floor where he’d magickally placed them. She grabbed her underwear and jeans and pulled them both up at the same time. The denim was hard where she’d kneeled in the snow, but they had dried as she’d dozed in his arms.

“It was during the height of the North Berwick witch trials. Malina was a baby. She’d been born with what they called the witch’s mark. People were desperate then—for food, for salvation, to prove their piety and waive suspicions of witchcraft from themselves. There were many reasons for someone to name a child to the authorities if they believed that child was touched by the devil. Confessions were extorted with torture. People would say anything to avoid it. The midwife saw Malina’s mark when she was born and later traded the information for five potatoes and a cut of meat.”

“That’s horrible,” Donna whispered. She threaded her arms through her bra. Dressing was an excuse not to look at him, and it busied her shaking hands.

“As is starvation,” Fergus said. “Ya cannot blame a hungry peasant for needing food. That’s what Elspeth said when we found out.”

“It is horrible that the midwife had to be in that situation, but I don’t think I’m as kind as Elspeth was. I can’t see giving up a baby to murder.” She pulled her long-sleeve shirt over her head and finally turned to face him.

Fergus looked as if he would reach for her, but he held back. He was still naked on the bed. A sheet draped over his waist, pulled down just enough to show his muscled hip.

“So what happened?”

“Knowing that the hunters would kill Malina if they found her, and then would investigate the entire MacGregor clan, Elspeth tried to get our niece out of the country.”

Donna’s hands shook. The pain in his voice was raw. She could picture running through a snowy forest with an infant in her arms. White puffs of breath and uneven ground. Trying to keep an infant warm. Scared. Cold.

“When warlocks marry, we give part of ourselves to our significant other so that they may develop some magick of their own, but it takes time. Elspeth was human. We were new to marriage, and my powers had not fully developed in her to protect her. I helped to distract some of the men looking for Malina so they could escape. When I finally caught up to them, it was too late. Elspeth had used up what little magick she possessed to bind Malina’s cry and hide her from harm. When she wouldn’t tell the witch hunter where she’d taken the child, he ran her through and left her for dead.”

A tear slipped over Donna’s cheek. “And she died in your arms, didn’t she?”

“Aye. She did.”

“And I’m guessing, since you have magick, you’ve been trying to bring her back ever since?”

Fergus nodded. “How did ya know that?”

“I can see it on your face. I can also see the pain and guilt.” Donna tried to hide her sorrow. It felt as if her heart was breaking in half. What real claim did she have on this man? Despite the connection she felt, she realized they hadn’t known each other long. There was no competing with ghosts. “I’m sorry she passed away, but this isn’t cheating. If your wife loved you as much as you love her, then she wouldn’t want you to feel guilty for this.”

“Angus would agree with ya, but I’m not sure that’s what my Elspeth would say. She was always a jealous one. She loved me very much.” Fergus moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He folded his hands in his lap. “I haven’t been with anyone else since her.”

“Why me? Why now?”

“There is something about ya that draws me. I haven’t felt this way since…” Fergus left the rest of his comment unspoken.

Donna took a deep breath. He couldn’t even say it. “I’m not Elspeth. I’m rarely jealous of anything. I don’t cook. I couldn’t forgive the midwife for betraying a child. I don’t always know the right thing to do or say, but I go with my gut.” She walked around to his side of the bed. “I really like you, Gus. I like spending time with you. I would like to spend more time with you and see where this goes. But I’m only me. I will not replace a dead wife, and I will not compete with her ghost.”

“I would not ask ya to.”

“You might not say it, but that look on your face when you speak of her says more than your words ever could.” Donna touched his face. “I want you. I want to stay here with you. I want to crawl into that bed and kiss you and pretend your past is not your past, and the pain in my chest right now is not real.”

He placed his hand over hers and held her to him, and a very frightening realization came over her as she looked into his eyes. She loved him. Somehow, someway, she loved him. She knew it as sure as she knew the sun shone and birds sang. It just was. A natural, indisputable fact.

The pain became worse.

“Thank you for not lying to me,” she whispered.

“Don’t leave. Come back to bed. Stay. Please, Donna. I don’t want ya to go.”

“I, um…” She pulled her hand from his and scratched her forehead in distraction. “I have to go to work. I missed a shoot, and I have to make some calls, and I have an appointment.”

The vague excuse was all she could come up with, even if everything she said was true.

“May I call on ya later?” Fergus grabbed her camera off the floor and followed her as she made a move for the bedroom door. He handed it to her.

Donna nodded, unable to get any more words out as she left him. She hurried to the stairwell, not wanting to run into any of the family members on her way out the door. Luck was not with her.

Margareta stood in the front hall gazing up at the Christmas tree. She pointed at it, moving her finger to magickally rearrange a few ornaments, so they were no longer perfectly aligned. Seeing Donna, she chuckled. “Don’t tell Cait. This will drive her to distraction.”

Donna nodded and moved toward the front door.

“What it is it, dear?” Margareta followed her to the doorway.

“I’m late for work,” Donna mumbled.

The woman looked worriedly up toward where Fergus’s bedroom was and then back to Donna. She stared with a strange look on her face.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone about anything.” Donna glanced at the magickally decorated tree. “No one would believe me, and I value my reputation for sanity.”

“Elspeth?” Margareta whispered.

“Yes. He told me about her.” Donna wondered at the dynamics of this family. Clearly they were close if generations of them had lived in the same house for presumably hundreds of years.

Margareta reached for her shoulder. Donna started to smile politely at the kind gesture when the woman suddenly pushed her aside and hurried out into the front yard. “Elspeth, wait!”

Donna gasped. She looked over the yard. The slender woman she’d had glimpses of around town a few times was walking toward the trees. Her brownish blonde hair flew behind her in the breeze and the hem of her green dress dragged in the snow behind her. There was a translucence to the woman’s appearance that made her more of a projection or an apparition than an actual presence.

“Fergus!” Margareta ran to the doorway and screamed, “She’s here. Elspeth is here.”

Donna bit back her tears as she stumbled away from the house. She stared at the trees where the woman had disappeared until movement caught her attention.

“Elspeth?” Fergus appeared in the doorway fully dressed. “Are ya sure, Margareta? I do not see her.”

Donna took small steps away from him, walking backward down the hill. Fergus found her and stiffened mid-motion. He glanced at Margareta and then back to her, clearly torn as to which direction to run.

The cold caused the tears falling down her cheeks to sting. Donna shook her head in denial and lifted her hand to keep him from coming after her. She’d make the choice easy for him. She could not compete with the memory of Elspeth. There was no way she was competing with Elspeth now that she’d come back.