Love Potions (20 page)

Now, as she lay in bed alone, Lydia missed Erik. She knew she had to make a point, but it was hard. After all she’d been through, she just wanted to snuggle into his arms and never leave them. She was still awake as the clock flicked over to 3 a.m.. The window was open so she could better hear outside and the curtains rustled in the breeze. She turned on her side to stare at the night when she detected a small sound from downstairs. Frowning, she sat up and tilted her head to better listen.

Something was off. She could feel it.

“Char?” she called softly. Lydia crept into the hall and went to open Charlotte’s door. The woman still slept. “Gramma?” She tiptoed to the stairs and made her way slowly down.

Her nerves prickled with awareness, but not the kind of tingling Erik caused. This was a warning. A cold chill swept over her, filling her with fear. She couldn’t run, couldn’t leave Charlotte alone in the house. Her eyes were used to the dark, but it was still hard to make out details in the shadows. She remembered the spine-chilling spirits. Had they found their way back in?

“Get out of my house,” she stated loudly. “I command you to leave. This is my house. You don’t belong here.”

She heard a shuffle near her front door and quickly ran to the kitchen. Foolish though it was, she flung open a low cupboard and grabbed a cast iron skillet. Supernatural things hated iron, right? She wasn’t sure but it sounded like something she might have heard once…on television.

Footsteps came toward her. She held the handle tight. Brad appeared in the doorway. He looked at her with possessive eyes. She let go of her captured breath, relieved for a brief moment that he was human and not demonic. Then she realized he’d broken into her home in the middle of the night.

“Hi Lydia,” he said. The smarmy tone of his words made her skin crawl. She never did like this guy. His friendship with Joe had been his only redeeming factor and she’d discovered that had been forced.

“What are you doing in my house?” She thought of the barrier spell, but knew Brad must not have been magickal if he made it inside. No, he was all human scumbag.

As if to answer her own question she got a flash of him standing outside her window where the rose bushes used to be, masturbating. He was the one who’d ordered the flowers replaced and he wasn’t pleased when the storm blew them away. Brad had been watching her since he’d first seen her. She thought of him pinning her picture over his wife’s head before he fucked the woman.

Brad used her moment of distraction to step closer. “I think you know what I’m doing here. We’ve been dancing around this moment for a long time.”

This man was evil. She felt it in him, so much more sharply now that part of Erik’s magick resided inside her. Erik’s powers gave her the ability to see him for who he was. A rush of images flooded her, every gesture she’d given him blown out of proportion, every word, every look. He’d been stalking her, creating a relationship where there wasn’t one. Oddly, the
lidérc’s
agenda had kept the man’s natural tendencies at bay, but with the creature gone, Brad was free to be Brad. And she wasn’t his first victim. He’d done this to another woman in the town he’d lived in before Green Vallis, and another in the town before that.

Brad’s hand strayed to his pants and she saw him rub at his erection through his jeans.

Lydia dropped her arm and smiled, not letting go of the pan. “You’re right. We have.”

She’d shocked him. His hand stopped stroking. He tilted his head to the side as if accessing his options.

Lydia stepped closer, lowering her chin to give him the most seductive look she could muster. “I have wanted to get you alone for a very, very,” she paused, coming to stand before him, “very long time…”

He opened his mouth to speak and Lydia took her chance. She gripped the handle and swung the cast iron skillet at his head. The pan made contact with his skull with an awful crack.

“…to tell you to shut the hell up and stop looking at me, you creepy asshole.”

Brad didn’t have time to react. He slammed into the doorway and dropped to the floor. A knife fell near his hand. Lydia had no doubt he’d planned on killing her and doing unspeakable things to her dead body as he had his other victims.

Keeping an eye on him, she set the pan on the table and went to the phone to call the police. Her hands shook as she dialed. Now that the danger had passed, she felt tears sliding down her cheeks. Lydia stretched the cord as she went to a drawer to pull out a butcher knife. She inched toward his fallen body and stretched out with her toes to drag his knife out of his reach.

…

Erik ran down the hill. He’d been trying and failing to sleep as he attempted to work out just how he’d get Lydia to say yes to him. He hoped he was up to the challenge and every detail of his proposal had to be perfect. With the barrier spell so newly in place, he was finding it hard to detect Lydia inside the Victorian. And then he’d felt her, as if she called to him. At first he’d smiled, thinking she was having one of her erotic dreams. Then he heard the police sirens in the distance.

His heart nearly stopped as Lydia’s home came into view. Sheriff Johnson already stood on her lawn, out of uniform, and deputies were walking around the perimeter of her house. Two paramedics pushed a gurney toward their ambulance.

“Lydia?” He ran onto the lawn in worry only to have guns drawn on him. His eyes followed the gurney. He lifted his hands.

“It’s all right,” Lydia said.

The words filled him with relief as she found her unharmed next to the sheriff. He didn’t move as he kept his hands up. The bullets didn’t worry him, but concealing his identity did. “What happened? Are ya injured?”

“Erik,” she said, his name coming out on a sob.

“Let him through,” the sheriff ordered. “That’s the fiancé.”

Erik went to pull Lydia into his arms. She trembled and buried her face in his chest. “What happened?”

“That’s one brave lady you have there,” Sheriff Johnson said. “She fought off an attacker. Brad Williams broke into her home tonight and had her at knifepoint.”

Lydia lifted her head. Tears flowed down her cheeks. “Stalker.”

The sheriff nodded. “It would appear that way.”

“Sheriff,” one of the deputy’s called. Both men turned to look. He carried over a bag and held it open. Erik saw rope, knives and a gun inside. Hugging Lydia tighter, he kept her from looking as he stroked her hair. “I found this close to the front door.”

“Get it into evidence,” Johnson said.

“No,” Lydia managed, still gripping Erik’s arms. “He is a stalker. He, ah, he told me. I’m not the first. There were others. He killed them. You have to look in the woods near water. He likes to wash up after. One in each town he’s lived in. Ask his wife, she’ll know where they’ve lived.” Lydia took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “They’ll look like me.”

Sheriff Johnson nodded grimly. “All right, Lydia, I promise I’ll look into it.”

“And he did the mushrooms,” she added weakly. “I don’t know why.”

“Charlotte’s in the living room with one of my men,” the sheriff said. “Is there some place you ladies can go for the night?”

“They’ll come home with me,” Erik said.

“I’ll get the crime scene clean up guys out first thing in the morning. They’re from out of town so it takes them a few hours to get here. They’ll make it look good as new.” The sheriff went to some of his men.

“Crime scene? Were ya injured?” Erik asked.

“I hit him on the head with a skillet. He bled.” She trembled. “I didn’t know what else to do. I just kept seeing all his victims through his eyes, and I knew what he was going to do to me. I had to tell the sheriff something so I lied and said he bragged about it.”

“And the mushrooms?”

“Those two Williams boys have had it hard enough with a father like that. They don’t need to be blamed for the mushrooms too,” she whispered. “Omigod, and Charlotte. These things can’t keep happening to Charlotte. She’s already so confused.”

“Come on, let’s get ya ladies to the mansion,” Erik said. Even with everything going on she was thinking of others. There was no way he’d ever let his woman go. If he spent an eternity begging, he’d get her to marry him. But for now, all that matter is that she was safe. “I promise, Charlotte is going to be safe. Ya need to worry about yourself, love.”

…

“Ya poor things,” Margareta declared as Erik brought the women inside. Lydia didn’t even bother asking how the woman knew what had happened. Niall and Rory came from the dining room. Rory carried a glass of whiskey. Niall held the bottle.

Charlotte stood close to Lydia. “So tonight is real? Brad is a stalker and you killed him.”

“He’s alive,” Lydia answered. Though, the paramedics didn’t seem to think he’d live through the night. She’d whapped him pretty hard. She tried not to think about it, not when everyone was looking at her for a reaction.

“Anything to handle?” Niall asked gruffly.

Erik shook his head. “No.”

Niall nodded and swung back the bottle to drink.

“Niall, show Charlotte to a guest room,” Margareta ordered her son. She snatched the bottle from him. “And use a glass. You’re not a Neanderthal.”

“Come on then,” Niall said to Charlotte.

Lydia nodded to her friend that she should go. Charlotte didn’t protest. After her friend disappeared upstairs, she said, “I don’t like this. She’s not herself. She doubts everything.”

Margareta came forward and placed her hand on Lydia’s cheek. “Time is sometimes the best magick of all. Give her that.” Then to Erik, she said, “And there is also great magick in rest. Niall will make sure Charlotte is safe. He won’t be great company, but then I imagine she’ll just want to rest. Ya two go to bed.” When Margareta removed her hand she took a few strands of Lydia’s hair with her. Lydia flinched in surprise but it didn’t hurt. The woman continued, “Rory will find Euann, and they’ll do a sweep of the property just to be sure. I’m going to my lair.”

Erik nodded in understanding.

“I could really use a shower,” Lydia said as they walked up the stairs. She moved slowly and he paused long enough to sweep her up into his arms to carry her. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I really miss normal.”

“My mother is going to make sure the danger has passed for ya once and for all. We won’t see much of her for several days. Such future telling magick takes a lot out of her and is rarely performed, but as perfect as Green Vallis seems to be, we’ve already encountered many threats. Such is the way with places of great power—all sorts of people, both good and bad, will be drawn to it.”

“Perhaps they just follow you,” she said.

“Brad was here before we were,” Erik countered.

“You’re right.” Lydia sighed and closed her eyes. “If you hadn’t of come, I wouldn’t have had the ability to detect what he truly was until it was too late. Your magick saved my life.”

“Lydia, ya are my life,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. “All I want is to protect ya, forever.”

Lydia felt his love for her and held him close. Who cared if he was a little domineering? She loved him and wanted to be with him. Everything else would work itself out.

“Ok,” she whispered. “I’ll marry you.”

“Sorry, love, but I didn’t propose to ya.” Erik chuckled as she lightly smacked him on the chest. “But I will gladly help ya take a shower.”

Chapter Eighteen

“I can’t believe your fiancé’s brother evicted me,” Charlotte said, staring at the fresh paint on the door frame. Lydia had found the color in the basement and painted over the area where Brad’s blood had splattered. The cleanup crew did a good job, but it just made her feel better to erase him from her house completely.

“He probably didn’t know you were the tenant.” Lydia hated the lie. She stood to wash out the paintbrush in the sink. “And I for one am very happy to have you here. I don’t want to be alone right now, so really you’re doing me a favor.”

A car sounded outside, and she hurried to the window to look for Erik. She knew a proposal was coming, she just didn’t know when or how. At least, she hoped a proposal was coming. It was only a truck passing and she sighed, going back to the sink.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Charlotte said. She stuck a label on a bottle and moved it over to the side.

With everything that had happened they were backlogged on orders. The smell of lavender came from the stove. They’d been making batches of lotion since they arrived back at the house early that morning. The place reeked like a perfumery.

“Niall evicted me while I was sick in the hospital, poisoned by your stalker,” Charlotte continued. “What kind of asshat does that? And then he mutters a half-ass, drunken apology to me right after the stalker tried to kill you. I didn’t see Niall yesterday. I hope that means he’s gone for good.”

“I’m glad to see some of your fighting spirit is coming back,” Lydia said, smiling. This sounded more like the old Charlotte. Margareta had been right. Time had done wonders. Ok, so it had only been a little over a day since Brad’s attack, but still, wonders.

“Like a bad mushroom trip is going to slow me down for long,” she said. “It’s still messing with me. I thought I saw a ghost last night, but I was half-asleep so it was no big deal.”

Lydia stopped washing and set the brush on an old towel she’d laid out on the counter. This might be the perfect time to ease Charlotte into some of the truth. “Well…”

“Well?”

“You remember the Gramma Annabelle thing, right? We didn’t really get a chance to talk about it.” Lydia glanced around the room. She saw the ghost appear in the living room out of Charlotte’s eye line. Annabelle nodded eagerly. “When you left my house, you were going to get a spirit board.”

“No way! I thought I hallucinated that part. Have you seen her? Did she try to communicate?”

Lydia nodded. “Yeah, she’s appeared a few times.”

“Gramma Annabelle, if you’re here, make this bottle move,” Charlotte placed one of the labeled bottles away from the others and stared at it.

Annabelle floated into the kitchen and placed her hand over the bottle, letting the solid object sink through her transparent fingers as she held her hand flat over the table. Charlotte gave a little scream and shot out of her chair.

“Not as easy as it looks, dear,” Annabelle stated. She pushed her hand through the table and then stood. “It’s all I can do to not sink through the floorboards.”

From her place against the wall, Charlotte stared at the ghost. “It’s talking. Please tell me you hear it talking, Lydia.”

“You’re not crazy. Gramma is here.” Lydia frowned at her grandmother. “You could have been a little more subtle.”

“
It
can hear you,” Annabelle said. “You want to touch me?”

Charlotte nodded and stepped hesitantly closer to the ghost. She reached her hand out to poke Annabelle’s arm. “You’re freezing.”

“You look like hell,” Annabelle answered.

“I was dosed with magic mushrooms and the doctors think I may be crazy now.” Charlotte stepped a little closer to better swipe her fingers through the spirit. “It’s possible I’m hallucinating you.”

Lydia watched Charlotte’s face only relaxing when her friend didn’t panic or pass out. A distant sound caught her attention and she tiled her head. “Shh, do you hear that?”

The ghost turned to look at her.

“Bagpipes?” Charlotte guessed, not taking her eyes off Annabelle. She poked her finger at her again.

Lydia gave a little jump of excitement and smoothed down her hair. “How do I look?”

“Good,” Charlotte and Annabelle said in unison.

“What’s with her?” Annabelle asked.

“Proposal time,” Charlotte answered.

“Stop staring at me. It’s a little creepy.” Annabelle mimicked Charlotte and poked at the woman a few times.

“I can’t,” Charlotte said, poking the ghost again.

Lydia hurried to the kitchen door and out onto her lawn, unable to contain her excitement. She looked down the hill to where the sound came from. A group of men in kilts turned the corner followed soon after by a crowd of townsfolk. The musicians stepped in time to the music, as they played their bagpipes. Two horses flanked each side of them carrying flags with the MacGregor family crest on them. In the front was Erik, leading the way. With him were his brothers, father, and Rory. There were also a few men she didn’t know but who had the MacGregor look about them. Malina followed in her tartan gown pushing a wheelchair. The old lady in the chair looked like an older, withered version of Margareta. Wrinkled skin clung to her bony frame. An out of breath English bulldog dressed in tartan plaids followed Malina on a leash. Behind her a group of women in various forms of tartan gowns followed.

Mrs. Callister scribbled notes furiously on her notepad as she half-ran, half-walked to stay in front of the others. Chef Alana walked with Jane Turner. She gave a small wave when she saw Lydia. Joe and Mr. Baker from the post office stood next to a group of men from the Eternal Order of the Elk men’s club. They were a harmless group that sat around smoking and playing cards all night away from their wives. Several people had their cell phones out recording the Scotsmen. Others flashed pictures.

Lydia smiled at Erik as he stopped the procession in front of her. He dropped the blowpipe from his mouth and placed the instrument on the old lady’s lap. “Thanks, Ma.”

“Margareta?” Lydia whispered when Erik neared her.

“The spell took a lot out of her. She’ll be fine, and more importantly, you’ll be fine,” he whispered back. The bagpipe music stopped. Then louder, as he took her hands in his, he said, “Lydia Barratt,
táim i ngrá leat.
”

He paused and a few of the MacGregor women vocalized, “
Ahh
.”

Erik kneeled on one knee. He lifted two fingers in front of his heart where the crowd couldn’t see them. A thin smoke formed before materializing a diamond ring with a heart-shaped stone. “Say ya will marry me, lass.”

Lydia was aware of the eyes on her, but she didn’t care. She only saw Erik. A tear slipped over her cheek, and she felt the nervous excitement welling inside her chest. She nodded. “Yes.”

He surged to his feet and pulled her into his arms. Kissing her soundly, he turned her to the side so she lost balance and fell into his arms. Her foot kicked up to the side to help counterweight her upper body. The crowd cheered. Erik righted her.

“Are ya feeling giddy now, love?” he asked, stroking his thumb along her temple and cheek.

“A bouquet of flowers would have done nicely,” she said. “You didn’t have to pied piper the whole town.”

“Och, no, lass, only a grand gesture will do for my heart.” He slid the ring onto her finger. “I want everyone to know you’re Erik MacGregor’s woman. Besides, it was only a little harmless spell to get them to follow. The other option was for me to sing.” He glanced behind him. “I still can if ya wish.” He opened his mouth wide.

“No, don’t.” She laughed, grabbing his face and kissing him. “There’s no need for threats. I already said yes.”

The light sound of music caught her attention, and she looked at Margareta in the wheelchair. Next to her a horse stood. Lydia leaned in to Erik. “Is that horse humming?”

Erik looked at his mother and then the humming animal. “Ma.”

Margareta shrugged and stroked the animal’s side with a shaking hand. It stopped.

“Come on, lads, drinks on me!” Angus shouted. Cheers answered his cry. The Eternal Order of the Elk seemed particularly excited by this turn of events. Suddenly, the bagpipes started up again as Angus led the people back down the hill.

“Come on then, Traitor!” A Scottish accent yelled from within the group of musicians. The bulldog pulled at his leash and hurried after his master. Malina handed her mother’s chair off to a tartan covered woman and jogged after the men.

“You, Mr. MacGregor, are going to be handful,” Lydia said. Then, sighing as she watched the departing crowd, she added, “And so is your family.”

“I think ya can handle us, lass.” He lifted her into his arms. “Now, how about ya finally invite me into our home? If I’m going to live here, ya might as well let me inside.”

“I don’t know. You’re pretty entertaining when I don’t let you in.” Lydia laughed. Happiness bubbled over inside her.

“Are they gone?” the woman holding the wheelchair asked.

“Aye, Aunt Cait, it’s safe,” Erik said. “This house is protected. The townsfolk won’t see anything magickal.”

Cait pulled a square mirror out of the back of the wheelchair and lifted it toward one of the other women to take. “Hold the end, lad. We need to get your ma home to rest.”

Erik obeyed, pulling at the mirror. It stretched wider and taller. Then when it was full length, Cait pushed the wheelchair toward it.

“Nice to meet ya, lass, welcome to the family,” Cait said before wheeling Margareta into the mirror. She disappeared into the waving reflective surface.

Lydia gasped and looked around. Charlotte peeked out of the doorway. She pointed weakly behind her. “Um, Lyd, I’m going lay down. I think the mushrooms are acting up again.” She disappeared into the house.

When the other women went through leaving Erik holding the mirror on her lawn, Lydia reached to touch the surface. Her fingers slipped into the mirror, and she jerked them back.

“Peek inside,” Erik said. “No one is watching.”

Lydia glanced to make sure Charlotte had left and then leaned her head toward the mirror and closed her eyes. She felt warmth as she passed through the glass and then opened her eyes to look. Her head was in Erik’s bedroom at the mansion. She saw Cait’s back as she pushed Margareta out of Erik’s room. Lydia pulled out of the mirror.

“It’s a compromise,” Erik said. “Now we live in both places. If anything happens, we can be in the mansion in two steps.” He pushed the mirror so that it became smaller and easier to carry. “Is that all right, love? The portal will make my family happy, and this way we have their protection at all times. Don’t worry, we’ll leave our room locked on the other side. No one will be coming over uninvited.”

“It’s actually kind of perfect,” Lydia said, chuckling. “With us, Charlotte and my grandmother’s ghost flitting around, the Victorian might feel a little crowded. This will give us some privacy. Though, maybe not so much magick around Charlotte right now. She’s been through enough and I just reintroduced her to my grandmother’s ghost.”

“Aye, sorry about that,” he murmured. He held the mirror with one hand and pulled her close with the other. “She looks better though. Euann wants me to put in a good word for him with Charlotte.”

“So naturally you’ll sabotage him?” Lydia wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close.

“Oh, aye, definitely. I still owe him for a few things he did to me back in the seventeen-hundreds.” He took her offered lips and kissed her. “See, lass, ya understand us MacGregors perfectly.”

“Seventeen-hundreds,” she whispered. No matter how she tried to ignore that little fact, it kept coming back to trouble her.

“Aye, he got me drunk and I ended up conscripted into a navy,” Erik chuckled. Then, seeing her expression, he said, “Ah, love, don’t worry. It’s just pranks between brothers. I’m unharmed, and Euann didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Have you been married before?” Lydia pushed a strand of his hair out of his face to study his eyes.

“No, lass, ya will be my first and only.” He returned the gesture, brushing the hair out of her face.

“Only? But I’m not a warlock. I’m human. I’m not like you, Erik. I’ll grow old and die. I’m not magickal.” Inside she shook with emotions. Trying to lighten what she was saying with a joke, she said, “You know, unless I come back to haunt you. I’m sure Gramma Annabelle can tell me how it’s done.”

“All I have is yours, Lydia.” Erik let the mirror drop on the ground and slipped his arm around her waist. A light breeze swept around them. She shivered, feeling him in the wind. “That includes my immortally and my magick. Aye, death can find us all, but ya will live as I live. My magick will infuse ya and, after time, ya will grow your own power and become immortal as well. Of course, until that time you’ll have to stay close to me.” A seductively playful smile curled his lips. “I’ll need to feed ya my power.” He wagged his brows and pulled her hips flush to his to feel his desire for her. “It’s a way to make sure we’re the real thing. If we part, the process will stop. This is how the non-magick become magick.”

Lydia felt his magick slipping into her fingers, tingling down her arms. “Are you sure that last part isn’t a line? If we part, the process will stop?”

“We best not risk it.” He rocked into her. “Though, might I suggest we take the rest of this conversation up to our room, and through the mirror? Ya can rearrange anything ya like, love, but maybe it’s best not to scare Charlotte.”

“I suppose it’s time you came inside, Mr. MacGregor,” Lydia whispered, leaning her mouth close to his ear, “to give me my magickal feeding.”

“Aye,
fíorghrá,
whatever ya wish.” He grabbed the mirror and whisked into the home.

“I love you, too, Erik.” Lydia laughed when he didn’t bother to look around the house he’d been trying so hard to get into but instead hurried her upstairs toward her room. “You crazy warlock, I love you too.”