Rory didn’t move, not wanting the girl to notice him. It wasn’t that he didn’t love the five-year-old, but Jewel was one scary kid when she was in play mode. One of the last times she’d “played” with him, he’d ended up with a painfully tight ballerina bun and a shimmering tutu. His natural athletic abilities leaned toward golf and shinty, not pirouettes and leaping across the floor. That was actually the reason he’d cut his hair.
Of course, that had been in Jewel’s previous life. As a phoenix, her powers came with one very ugly catch. Without Andrea to temper it back, the child would flame out to be reborn. The family hoped that this time she would last into adulthood.
“Sorry!” Andrea came running out of one of the bedrooms in a bathrobe. She snagged Jewel around the waist before she could leap after Iain. Since he was the only one in the front room, she gave Rory an apologetic look. “I thought she was sleeping. I took the binding bracelet off just long enough to take a shower.”
Still holding Jewel, she pulled a bracelet out of her pocket and slipped it onto her wrist. Jewel’s eyes flashed, and Andrea placed her on the floor.
The rainbows and bubbles stopped. Iain circled the foyer before coming close to the floor. He shifted and landed on his feet.
“Is everything all right?” Margareta called from the dining room entryway.
“Yep, got her,” Andrea yelled, leading Jewel back toward the bedrooms.
“Iain, when did ya get here?” Margareta asked. She was a petite woman but mighty. Anyone who knew her knew not to cross her.
“Hey, Ma.” Iain went to his mother to kiss her on the cheek. He acted as if nothing had happened. Considering the MacGregor household always seemed to be in a state of chaos, his attitude wasn’t surprising. “Just came by to grab my formal kilt. Taking Jane out tonight. It’s a surprise, so don’t tell her.”
“Family dinner Sunday,” Margareta said.
“We’ll be here.” Iain took the stairs two at a time. “Hey, Rory. I see you’re back. Heard ya were being sexed up by a bog witch. Can’t say I blame ya for trying to hide your slumming from the family.”
“What?” Rory frowned. “That’s not—”
“Methinks my lady doth protest too much,” Iain teased with a laugh as he disappeared down the hall. His muffled voice shouted, “Ya should bring her to Sunday dinner. We’ll put plastic down on her seat, so she doesn’t muddy up the nice furniture.”
“Don’t ya dare, laddie,” Margareta scolded. “I’ll not have a bog witch at my table. It’s bad enough Kenneth brought those mountain witches into our lives.”
Rory turned to his aunt and ignored the comment about Kenneth. “Jennifer is not a bog witch. She’s just a woman who needed help.”
“A woman you’re dating?” At that, Margareta smiled and stepped fully into the foyer. “Perhaps ya should bring her dinner. Let us get a look at her.”
“Don’t give me that look,” Rory admonished, keeping his tone playful. “Just because ya got all of your children married off doesn’t mean it’s my turn.”
He smiled as he said it, but secretly the words stung. Jealousy filled him each time he saw the happy newlyweds together. He wanted what they had. He wanted a wife he could spoil with surprise dates. He wanted to hear his name whispered in the night, knowing that it came from a place of intense love.
But he didn’t want to enchant just any woman. He wanted the love to be real. After hundreds of years, he was more than ready to take that step. Until Green Vallis, he had never really dared to hope it might happen, but the town was special.
“Wench, not witch,” Raibeart said from behind Margareta.
“She’s just a nice lady who needed our assistance,” Rory corrected. He finished coming down the stairs to join his family in the dining room.
“The only lady who needed help was tied to a tree,” Raibeart said.
“What lady? There were two?” Murdoch, Rory’s da asked. Like all the MacGregor men, he had dark hair and proud features. People say Rory and Bruce favored him.
Rory saw his parents sitting across from each at the long wooden table. A fancy cake sat between them with a slice missing. The crooked lines of frosting decoration gave away that this was another of his ma’s attempts at baking like a human with no magickal help. The attempts were rarely good.
Actually, they were never good.
“Me,” Rory said dryly so Raibeart wouldn’t answer for him. “I’m the lady in this story.”
Murdoch laughed and nodded. “Been there, my boy.”
“While we’re on the subject,” Raibeart interjected. “Did a package come for me today? I’m expecting something important.”
“No,” Margareta answered.
“Rory, ya know I don’t like it when ya take off like that,” Cait, his ma, scolded, pushing up from her seat. She looked the part of the stereotypical 1950s housewife but looks could be deceiving. She had a fondness for cashmere sweaters, pearls, and something she called the circle skirt. She kept her blonde-brown hair neatly pulled back. “Next time, leave a note.”
“I didn’t have a choice.” Rory didn’t want to get into this. His ma and aunt would only worry, and his da and uncles would tease him mercilessly. “Some force abducted me out of the shower. I woke up in the forest tied naked to a tree with enchanted rope.”
“Which one of my sons did it this time?” Margareta MacGregor’s voice was low and soft, a sure sign she was annoyed. “God knows I love ya boys, but ya are all idiots.”
“And I saved him!” Raibeart announced over her. “I also got me a fine knife.”
Raibeart pulled the scian from a scabbard on his waist to show them the ancient blade.
“Let me see that,” Cait ordered, waving her hand to call the blade out of Raibeart’s grip with magick. It flew through the air at her head, but she caught it with ease. She furrowed her brow. “Who had this?”
“It’s mine,” Raibeart said. He waved his fingers to call the blade back. The knife flew out of Cait’s hand. Raibeart caught it. “Finders keepers I got peepers.”
“It’s cursed,” Cait corrected. “I feel a strange magickal vibration coming from it.”
“That’s nothing. Just a wee twitch.” Raibeart tried to put it back in his scabbard.
Cait used her magick to force the blade out of the scabbard. It again flew across the room. She caught it as it neared her. “No. I think we need to put it in the—”
“Mine,” Raibeart said, trying to take the knife back. The blade turned, flying toward him.
“Raibeart,” Cait scolded, waving her hand again.
The knife flew back and forth as they fought over it.
Suddenly, it headed off course, targeting Rory.
Rory lifted his arms to block his face and ducked.
“Watch it,” Murdoch yelled when it came too close to hitting his son. He waved his hand upward. His magick forced the blade to shoot up and embed itself into the ceiling.
“Ya know the rule, Raibeart. Cursed objects go in the vault,” Margareta said.
“Ya always take away my toys,” Raibeart pouted. His kilt shimmered to be replaced by a black leotard and pink tutu. “I’m going to go where I’m appreciated. Jewel and I have dance lessons.”