Witches of Skye - Love Lies Bleeding (Book Three): Paranormal Fantasy Page 4

  “Blessed be,” I bit out.

  “Why is he here?” Gran demanded.

  “In truth, he walked through a magical wall and saw through a cloaking spell,” Moira announced and my heart made a mad dash for freedom against my ribs.

  “Geez, Moira, subtle becomes you,” I snapped.

  “Wait – say that again?” Jack demanded.

  “Yes, say that again,” Dad said.

  “Don’t bother,” Gran bit out with a wave of her hand in Jack’s direction. “T’was one of the reasons I told ye I’d used the love potion on him, Maggie.” She said, and my eyes must have rolled back in my head as I caught Jack shifting his stance and craning his head towards her on his neck.

  “You did what now, did ya, aye?” he rushed out, totally perplexed.

  I actually felt the need to laugh, but at this point, I thought it was because I had truly lost the plot and gone full-blown mental numpty muppet. I didn’t even know if there was a way back to reality from the place my mind had flown off to. I was away with the faeries.

  “You heard me,” Gran snapped.

  “But, you didn’t?” Moira asked, and I made a sound like a deflating balloon. Trust me, it was the best I could do, as Jack looked at me like I’d just peeled off my face to reveal my lizard head.

  “Ach, no,” Gran said, looking almost disgusted at the thought of it. “He’s a faerie.”

  “I am nay a bloody faerie!” Jack suddenly developed about ten chins as he pulled his head back and eyed my Gran.

  “And a numpty,” Gran tossed up a hand in his direction.

  “Faerie,” Dad said, turning his nose up at the man.

  “He’s not a faerie, Gran,” Moira bit out through chuckles.

  “Not the derogatory type of fairy that folk aren’t allowed to say anymore…”

  “And with good reason,” Moira offered.

  “All righty Miss Politically Correct, I was nay being rude,” Gran bit out. “He’s got Fae blood in him, so he has.”

  Well, you could have heard a pin drop.

  “So, Jack’s a faerie,” Malachi announced from the doorway. “Well, I knew it! Just look at his hair.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  ~

  “If people don’t stop calling me a faerie, so help me, I’ll …” Jack grumbled.

  “Get out your wand and wave it?” Malachi offered back.

  Jack gave me something of a pleading look like I should take pity on him. Hmm.

  “Why’s he here?” Dad asked.

  “Awkward,” Moira said, and I mentally chose my corner of the room to curl up in a ball in and hibernate until the world ended or I died – whichever came sooner.

  “Very,” Malachi grinned. “For the faerie.”

  “Just you…” Jack bit out, and I could see the anger rising in him. His face looked like one of those British tourists on a sun-kissed island holiday, and that wasn’t a good look on him.

  “Okay!” I shouted, waving my hands like a drowning woman. “That’s enough.”

  “Could somebody just tell me what the hell is going on!” Jack demanded.

  “Well, they have magic, you’re a faerie, and I’m a vampire,” Malachi said, and I groaned. I just wished that this day was all over with. If I had a run of good luck then we could all be obliterated by a stray comet, but what were the odds?

  “That’s not funny,” Jack grumbled.

  “I think he lacks faith,” Malachi said in a teasing voice, and I could see it coming like a slow motion car crash that I was powerless to stop, because my mind was back on spin cycle, and for one long moment I actually forgot I had magic and wouldn’t have known what to do with it had I remembered.

  “Noooo,” I heard myself say, but it was too late – Malachi had already unveiled his fangs.

  “Holy sh…!” I have to say that Jack looked like our cat trying to climb up the wall – it was – not anyone’s finest hour.

  ~

  Jack still looked as if he’d seen a ghost, well, vampire, and I had to pity the man. At least I’d had a firm basis in magic and legends when I saw my first monster in the shape of Ross’ werewolf, and I still freaked out a little.

  His hand had been shaking like he was naked in the Arctic when Gran had given him his first Scotch, the good Scotch, so I guess she’d taken pity on him, and yet, when he had managed to get the glass to his lips, he’d drunken the fiery liquid in one. Now his hand wasn’t shaking so much, but then, he was on his third glass, and we’d put Malachi out of the room like an unwanted pet.

  “Do you see now why it’s sometimes better not to know … things?” I couldn’t help but ask. The man had brought it on himself in a way by being too curious.

  “Aye,” Jack bit out, offering me the evil eye.

  “Why am I getting the death glare with the frosty after stare?” I bit out.

  “He is your pet vampire,” Moira was back to being unhelpful again.

  “Pet?” Jack said, and I waved that one away.

  “Moira’s just being a witch.” I shot her one of those glares.

  “What’s new,” Jack muttered, and Moira stood to attention.

  “Excuse me?” She hissed. I bit off a chuckle.

  “So, they were all vampires earlier?” Jack asked, and I don’t know if he consciously chose to ignore Moira or if it was just a brain fart, but I liked it.

  “Not … all,” I muttered, turning away and eyeing Gran for help.

  “Werewolves,” Gran announced, talk about going in with a wrecking ball when a sledgehammer would have done the job.

  I have to admit, when I turned back to look at Jack, he did look a little surprised, but he hadn’t gone laundry sheet white this time.

  “Men that…” he started and stopped.

  “That would be the one, sparky,” Moira shot back.

  Poor Jack, so much information in so little time, and he was doing fine now – until Moira tipped her chin up and howled a little. Jack swallowed down hard and scowled at the carpet.

  “How the hell am I supposed to police that?” Jack muttered.

  “That’s what witches are for,” Gran said.

  “So, the last murder was…?” Jack grimaced, I think he was having a hard time actually saying the words.

  “Werewolves, bad ones,” Moira offered up, and he grimaced again.

  “Ross,” he said as if to himself.

  “It doesn’t make him a bad person,” Moira was on the defensive.

  “He’s the family pet,” I chuckled.

  “What?” Jack looked lost.

  “Kidding. I wouldn’t advise trying to stroke his wolf,” I chuckled again.

  “I wouldn’t stroke Ross…” He curled his top lip in disdain.

  “That’s her job,” I grinned and nodded to Moira who sneered back at me.

  “Are you staying for dinner?” Moira asked.

  “With them? Are you nuts?”

  “Probably, a little, yeah,” Moira grinned.

  “I need to go,” Jack grumbled, putting his glass down and heading for the door.

  “Jack,” I called, and he stopped, flicking a look back over his shoulder at me. “First rule of fright club…”

  “Got it,” he muttered. “Nobody would believe me anyway.”

  The moment that he left Malachi came in the other door. They say when one door closes another one opens, but that’s usually a good thing.

  “So, do I rinse his mind?” he asked with a decidedly wicked gleam in his eye.

  “The next time I ask that man who the big bad wolf is, he better not say anything to do with Red Riding Hood,” I warned the vampire with a steely gaze.

  “You can be such a grouch,” he tossed back.

  “He’s right, you can,” Moira said. “Let’s eat.”

  “I take it Jack’s not on the menu?” Malachi said, trying to get a reaction from me – lucky him – I shot one of Eileen’s heavy books at his head and he reached out and snatched it from the air. “Temper-temper.”


  ~

  They say; time and tide wait for no man, well, the tide part was right, but Malachi wasn’t exactly an ordinary man. I watched him being Mr Cocky at the dinner table. I watched his interactions with bat-boy and how they were different to the way that he was with everyone else, and to say that things were strained between them would have been an understatement.

  With Jack’s welfare in mind, I was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of the problem between the vampires that Gran didn’t seem to want to share. It felt even more pressing now, but I wasn’t entirely sure how to get what I needed from any of them.

  I thought I’d go straight to the source, but first, I had some pressing questions for my Grandmother. I waited until after dinner when she had retreated into the greenhouse, and then I cornered her like a wolf to a wounded deer.

  “Spit it out,” she tossed back over her shoulder before I’d even put a foot inside her domain.

  “Can Jack do magic?”

  “Probably not, but his bloodline means that it has a different effect or none on him.”

  “So, he’s not a changling or…?”

  “No, and don’t go putting ideas into the man’s head – he’s stupid enough without your help.”

  “So, that love potion?” I thought that I’d dropped that in there quite nicely, right until Gran snorted a chuckle.

  “I thought you’d lead with that one,” she said, and I sneered behind her back.

  “If the wind changes…”

  How did she do that? I rolled my eyes. “So, the love potion,” I said again. She wasn’t getting off the hook that easily.

  “I knew if you thought I’d acted then you wouldn’t go near him with a barge pole,” she tossed back. “Faeries and witches don’t mix well.”

  “You’d think we would.”

  “They’re devious and meddlesome, and too often than not they stick their nose in where it doesn’t belong,” she took a moment to think about – I thought it described her perfectly. “It’s probably why a lot of them go into the police force or politics.”

  “Politics?” I said and snorted a chuckle, more than a few leading lights came to mind.

  “Don’t do as I do, do as I say, and they think they know best, Pah! Eejits, one and all.” You did not get my Gran started on politics, and now I knew why.

  “So, Gran…”

  “Not happening.”

  “I haven’t asked a…”

  “Ask Malachi, like you’re planning. If the man wants to spill his guts like a weak-kneed girl, then that’s his business, but I’ll say no more.” And she didn’t. I hated it when she did that pre-emptive strike thing – I also wanted to learn how the heck she did it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ~

  Another day, another dollar, or euro, depending which tourists showed up in bulk. We were like the United Nations summit at times, and at other times; it was as if every German holidaymaker had all decided to invade our Island – maybe invade wasn’t a good word, considering … but, I liked the German’s, and contrary to popular belief – they had a good sense of humour, but they did sound as if they were angry and accusing you of something all the time.

  The French were needy, the American’s thought everything was quaint, and the Australians all wanted to talk about their ancestors that came from Scotland – and the thing everyone had in common was that they all wanted to talk about the weather. It sometimes sounded like we were the only country on the planet that had enough rain for everybody in the world, and that we had stolen others share, or they wondered how it was that we could live without the constant blazing sunshine.

  I liked people as much as the next lass, but sometimes I just needed to escape to the outside world and gaze at the flotilla of wee boats that went across the Loch. There was something calming in that scene, and it just felt like a soothing and peaceful escape from the world.

  “I’d say a penny for them,” Malachi said, stealthily coming up behind me and whispering in my ear. I didn’t jump that time, even if he had broken the soothing peace of the moment.

  “I’ll give you brownie points if you can read my thoughts,” I offered back, shooting a quick look at him as he narrowed those sexy eyes on me.

  “That sounds like a trap.”

  “Can’t do it, can you?” I grinned.

  “I can if you let your magic…”

  “Cheater…”

  “Says the witch who’s using magic to keep me out.” He offered me a playful sneer.

  “Sore loser.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. He sneered again. “I’ll give you brownie points if you truthfully answer my question.”

  “I feel a kick to the balls coming on.” He groaned and made me chuckle again.

  “I can neither confirm nor deny, but rest assured, the pain will be fleeting,” I offered back with what I hoped was a wicked grin.

  “Says the witch that doesn’t have balls,” he grumbled back. Then he folded his arms across his broad chest and took a moment or two to think about it. “Hmm.”

  “Okay, forget it — I didn’t realise that you’re such a chicken.”

  “I think you’re getting me confused with the wolf — I don’t rise to the bait of a challenge…”

  “Like I said, forget it — you don’t need brownie points…” I started to walk away.

  “Okay, so maybe I do rise to the bait of a challenge.”

  I stopped and turned back. The first thing that I noticed about him was the way that his eyes were practically flashing with amusement, maybe that should have been a red rag to a bull, but I so wanted to know the answer to my question.

  “Okay, good. Now tell me why you and bat-boy rub each other up the wrong way?”

  “That sounds wrong on so many levels.” He offered me a playful grimace.

  “No brownie points for you — you’re deflecting,” I said with a shrug and started to turn away again.

  “It’s not me; it’s all Duncan,” he said and captured my attention once more.

  “That’s not answering my question — still deflecting.” I gave a small wave back over my shoulder as I carried on walking.

  “You’ll hate me if I tell you.” His melodic tone became a song.

  “Would it help if I said I hate you already?”

  “I find that very hard to believe.”

  “You are delusional. I hate you.” I shrugged.

  “Now you tell me – you couldn’t have told me before I saved you several times over — and – if you hate me; then I don’t need brownie points,” Malachi said.

  I knew his game. He wanted me to tell him that I didn’t hate him — pah! I don’t rise to the bait that easily.

  “That would be exactly why you would need brownie points,” I shot back. That seemed reasonable to me.

  “Fine. It was over a woman…”

  “Oh, please don’t tell me it’s the cliche that you were both in love with her and it was a romantic triangle — vomit comet.”

  “No, it was more the – I wanted to drink her dry and obviously kill her, and he didn’t like that idea type cliche — unromantic triangle.”

  “Oh, please don’t tell me that woman was Gran,” I chuckled.

  “But, I thought you wanted a truthful answer?” He didn’t look as if he was joking. I felt the heat rise up my body like somebody had turned it on under my feet and the heat was a bloody furnace.

  Maybe I was in hell? It would be only fitting that Malachi would be there to torment me for the rest of eternity.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Deadly,” he offered back. His face was blank of all expression, there was no teasing, there was no glint of wickedness in his eyes, and there was no grimace of guilt.

  I hated vampires for being able to keep a blank expression even when they were faced with a witch, that would be me, who was considering how best to start the funeral pyre beneath their feet, and when I say their, I mean him.

  “Well, thanks for being honest…” I said,
turning back to the bistro and putting one foot in front of the other in a sort of semi-daze.

  I hated that people kept putting my brain on spin cycle. Malachi was going to kill Gran — ha! There was a turn up for the books — or maybe not. I could see now why she was reluctant to embrace him as part of the family, and I’m surprised she didn’t get out something made of wood with a pointy tip the moment he showed up on our doorstep.

  “That’s it?” He called from behind me.

  “That’s it.”

  “So, we’re good?”

  Oh, silly, silly vampire. “Oh,” I said, a split second before I zapped him so hard that every muscle in his body tensed, clenched, and his face wasn’t a blank mask anymore. “I feel good, how you doing?”

  The thing with being clenched so hard like a duck’s backside was that he couldn’t continue to walk beside me as I sped up, yanked open the back door to the bistro, and disappeared inside. I clicked my fingers and snapped the locks on with my magic.

  For the win!

  Sucky-sucker, going to kill my Gran back in the day, was he? Well, we’ll see how many ways a vampire could be tortured beyond reason or sanity, and I was just the girl to do it.

  Wait until my sisters hear about that one. I have a sneaky suspicion that his un-dead life won’t be worth living.

  ~

  I was finally headed home after a day of keeping up international relations with the rest of the world that couldn’t decide between muffins and cookies, coffee cake and cheesecake, or haggis and fish, and when they could decide they didn’t know how to order it except by playing finger darts and charades with the menu.

  I took it as a bonus that Malachi seemed to be lying low, but someone who wasn’t lying low was Jack, and as I made my way to the car, he was headed towards me with a dark scowl that said he had a bone to pick with me. I sighed inwardly. Things would have been so much better for everyone if Jack had just stayed off the island.

  “I thought you said the mutilations…” he stopped, shot a look around us to see if he’d been overheard, I’d certainly clenched at his words, and lowered his voice, “were over.”