Spellbound (12 page)

“Ya did what ya had to,” Iain assured her.

“But, what if I become her now? What if she succeeded and I have to take her place.”

A low moan sounded, interrupting them.

Jane stiffened. “Sean.” How could she have forgotten her injured stepbrother?

They turned to the man lying on the ground. His head rolled back and forth. The run-in with the
bean nighe
had left Sean weakened. As he moved, the thick strands of his hair fell away, leaving him partially bald. Wrinkles fanned his eyes and lined his mouth.

“We should get him to a hospital,” Jane said.

“If we must do anything, we can take him to Cait,” Iain offered. “Keep this off the human radar.”

“No. I don’t want him anywhere near your family.” Jane flinched as she tried to stand. “He is the reason the
bean nighe
had me in her grasp. He tried to trade me for his dead mother.”

“Why would he want his dead mother?” Iain grimaced. “No good spells can come of that.”

“I think he wanted her brought back to life.”

Iain’s frown deepened. “No good can come of reanimation of human remains. Zombies are not just something humans made up to scare each other.”

“I don’t think zombies were his intention either.”

“No matter his plan, he meant ya harm. That I cannot forgive. Let him find his own way out of the forest. I’m taking ya home.”

“Please, Iain. He’s my stepbrother. We have to get him help.”

Iain looked as if he’d refuse but then sighed and nodded. “For ya, love, I’ll get him to the hospital, but only if ya promise to let me take ya to my home to let Cait tend your wounds.”

“I’m fine.”

“We don’t know what your ma did to ya.” Iain smoothed his hand over her hair before lifting a loose curl so she could see it. Her hair had turned white. “This is not negotiable.”

“
A
bean nighe’s
daughter
?” Cait eyed Jane’s white hair. They were in the MacGregor library overlooking the outside gardens. Iain’s aunt had just finished applying ointment to a large scrape on Jane’s back.

Jane gingerly pulled the back of her shirt down, not liking the way it stuck to the ointment but refusing to walk around the mansion half naked.

“It would explain the air of death about ya,” Margareta said. “And why ya see ghosts.”

“Aye,” Cait agreed. “And it explains your jagged lifeline if she was feeding off ya, and why those feedings didn’t kill ya. Normally, they consume spirits. Ya said the doctors could never figure out why ya were sick.”

“And the nature,” Margareta added. “Plants grow from the fertilizer of other dead plants, and ya have the ability to renew and transfer life. Who knows what kind of powers ya will develop in time.”

Jane shivered. She remembered what she’d told Iain about her mom, understood she needed to be physically touching her mom’s energy to recall the details of her interactions with her, and she knew her mom’s energy was now in a tree. What she didn’t know is what it meant for her to be a half
bean nighe.
“Iain mentioned how a
bean nighe
is meant to consume ghosts and release their energy back into the world.”

“Legend has it that
mnathan nighe
—that is, more than one
bean nighe
—are women who die with their baby in childbirth. Their spirits can’t let go of the joy they expected to feel and their great disappointment. If such heightened emotion can turn the woman into a
bean nighe
, it would stand to reason the life of another child could somehow free her of it.”

“How is that reasonable? A woman loses a child and her life, and so she is supposed sacrifice another child to end her curse?” Jane stood and began to pace.

“Oh, dear,” Margareta chuckled. “Ya say that like this is one of your American fairy tales. Have ya never read the old stories?”

“And not necessarily sacrifice. Ya are still here,” Cait said. “Those poor
mnathan nighe
have a horrible fate—feeding off the dead, purging souls, cleaning what remains. Maybe ya were meant to take your ma’s place. Maybe ya were meant to end her, as ya did. All I know is that ya must have been the key for your ma, and for her, death was a kindness.”

“I was told my mother abandoned us,” Jane argued. “My mother didn’t die in childbirth. My father wouldn’t have kept that from me.”

“Oh, no,” Margareta said. “A creature like her would have died centuries before ya were born. She would have to have been old to become so powerful. My guess is that she happened upon some mass tragedy and was able to gorge herself on it. From what I recall from my readings, a feast of souls would have shaken her out of her constant hunger and given her the power of consciousness long enough for her to seduce your father and give birth to ya. But I imagine the hunger would have been too hard to resist as it called her back to the graveyards. Consciousness couldn’t be sustained forever before her nature to feed took over once more. Feeding off of ya probably gave her strength.”

“So I’m becoming a
bean nighe
?” Jane touched her hair, evidence of her heritage. She tried to remember what the
bean nighe
had said to her, but aside from the knowledge that there had been a physical struggle, the words and thoughts were as faded as an old dream. Only vague impressions remained. “I’m going to turn into that thing and snack on ghosts?”

“Half
bean nighe
,” Cait corrected. “We do not know what that means for ya.”

Jane took a deep breath. As strange as this was, it was the best explanation she’d had for the events of her life so far. “So I’m not dying?”

“Euann, that little troll!” Malina declared from the doorway. “He got you too, Jane, did he?”

Jane turned, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Your hair. He put something in the shampoo.” Malina gestured to the reoccurring white streak in her own hair. “Come with me. I’ll show you how to cover it until it fades out completely, and then we’ll hunt down—”

“Leave your brother alone, Malina,” Margareta ordered. “He didn’t do this.”

“Who else? Euann did this to me,” Malina pulled at her own locks.

“Jane was attacked by a
bean nighe
.” Cait patted Jane’s hair. “But she won.”

“I miss all the fun.” Malina pouted.

“The
bean nighe
was her ma,” Margareta said with a bite of warning in her tone.

“Nothing a little hair color can’t fix.” Malina quickly changed the subject.

“I don’t suppose you can work something a little more permanent? Like an anti-aging hair spell?” Jane had no desire to keep the white. “To take away my premature gray so I’m not coloring it for the rest of my life?”

“Come on, Jane. I’ll get you fixed up,” Malina said. “Though you kind of rock the whole banshee-chic. I have some magazines in my room. We can go shopping while your hair processes.”

“
Y
ou have
the coolest power ever.” Jane’s excited voice filtered out of Malina’s bedroom.

Iain somehow knew he’d find her there. He’d felt her location the moment he’d entered his home.

“Oo, do this one,” Jane said.

Curious, Iain pushed his finger against the door and let it silently open. He found Jane and his sister sitting in the middle of her room surrounded by an ocean of half-eaten cupcakes and pastries. An open recipe book lay on the floor between them. Both women were biting into cream puffs that matched the picture on the page. Their eyes turned toward him at the exact same moment, and they stopped mid-bite as if they’d been caught doing something incredibly bad.

Jane’s hair was slicked into a pile on her head. A spot of brown hair color stained her forehead. She laughed as she bit down and chewed. She offered the rest of the cream puff to him. Iain stepped through the cupcake minefield, leaned over and took a bite without bothering to take it from her hand.

“Mm.” He nodded before swallowing. “It’s good.”

“This is amazing,” Jane said. “I show your sister a picture and she makes me food.”

“Should I be jealous? Ya didn’t get this excited by my powers,” Iain said.

“You didn’t tell me you could materialize cupcakes off a magazine picture,” Jane said.

“That’s because he can’t,” Malina informed. “Oh, and I didn’t tell you the best part. You get all the pleasure of eating but none of the weight. On the down side, none of the nutrition if you’re locked somewhere without actual food.”

Jane dipped her finger in frosting and licked it. “Tastes real.”

“She’s like a battery,” Malina said to Iain. She set her cream puff down by a red velvet cupcake and began flipping through the magazine. She touched Jane, then a picture of a banket. Almost instantly, the pastry materialized between them. “Oh, oh, oh, I just had a brilliant idea. With my power and your battery charge, we should find a giant billboard. I think I saw one to the south of town with—”

“Stutzman Bakery,” Jane finished for Malina. “The five-foot wedding cake!”

“All right, I’m cutting ya off,” Iain said. “No five-foot wedding cakes.”

“But…” Jane said, looking around the room. She pouted. “Giant billboard cake.”

“Ya cannot eat a five-foot cake,” Iain reasoned. “Not even if the rest of the MacGregor women helped ya.”

“We could too,” Malina said. “How hard could it be?” She counted on her fingers. “Me, Jane, ma, Cait, Lydia—”

Jane giggled. Her movements were a little jittery from the magickal sugar rush she had to be feeling. “This sounds like a challenge. I think we need to materialize the cake and prove Iain wrong.”

“We have ourselves a wager.” Malina jumped up. “I’ll tell the others. Lads versus lasses.”

Iain groaned.

Malina rushed out the door, only to come back and say to Jane, “You should wash that out now. Have Iain check the shampoo before ya use it to make sure Euann hasn’t tampered with the bottle.”

“Are you going to check my shampoo?” Jane grinned.

“Don’t ya want to know about Sean?” Iain asked.

Jane smiled wider. “Yes. Tell me about Sean.”

“Everything is handled. They admitted him for testing for the weakness. I explained that he was in town to see ya and that he hasn’t gotten over his ma’s death. Then, I induced Sean to put your name on the admittance form, giving ya access to his medical records so we can keep an eye on him. I’m not sure if it’s a good thing, but if he tells them what happened, they’ll think he suffered some kind of mental break.”

“That’s nice.” Jane leaned over and dipped he finger into chocolate frosting and then licked it.

“Here, look at me.” Iain lifted her chin and tipped back her head. Her eyes were glassy. “How much did ya eat?”

“I feel sparkly,” she said.

“I see that.” Iain chuckled and took advantage of the closeness of her mouth. He kissed her, enjoying the taste of frosting on her lips.

“You feel sparkly too,” she whispered.

“I think ya are drunk on magick,” Iain said.

“Malina said the magick hair formula would cause me to be tingly.” She gave a little frown. “Will you still like me if I have white hair forever?”

“Like ya?” Iain pulled her closer and kissed the tip of her nose. “Silly woman. Don’t ya realize I love ya?”

“But I have to tell you…” Jane pulled away from him. “I’m half
bean nighe
, and I am scared I’m going to have to eat ghosts and do laundry.”

“We should get this off your head now.” Iain walked her down the hall toward his room. “I think the only thing ya have to worry about is eating a giant cake or risk losing a MacGregor bet.”

“I like cupcakes,” Jane said with a giggle. “Hey, I’m not going to die. I hope that doesn’t change things between us.”

“Glad to hear it, love.” Iain made her walk faster. “I don’t think I could survive it if ya died.”

“I’m a battery.”

“All right, love, all right.” He pushed open his bedroom door and led her to his private bathroom.

“And you’re my potato,” she continued with a giggle.

Flicking his hand, he turned on the water without touching the knob. “Do ya think ya can handle a shower or do ya need assistance?”

Jane grabbed his face and kissed him. She didn’t let go as she backed into the shower still wearing her clothes. She pressed her tongue between his lips. Her eager actions were inexact, clumsy even. His body hummed where she touched him. Warm water rushed over their clothing, sticking it erotically to their flesh.

“Melt the clothes,” she ordered against his mouth.

As his magick stirred, he felt himself drawing power out of Jane to make it happen. He made their clothing slither off their body and pool into a wet pile at their feet. She gasped, throwing her head back in pleasure. Wet flesh slid against wet flesh as their bodies pressed together.

Iain turned her so that the stream of water hit her hair to rinse the concoction out of it. He pushed her hair back from her face. Jane tried to kiss his wrist as it passed close to her mouth. He chuckled at the action until he felt her hand wrapping his erection. A cloud formed over the shower and began to rain down on them, adding to the shower’s water.

Iain glanced up in surprise. A tiny flash of lightning struck down toward them. Bagpipes sounded, a lively old song he hadn’t heard in decades, perhaps longer. Jane pushed him back. Instead of the hard shower wall, his back hit the rough texture of a tree. The smell of wet grass and mud filled his nose. He didn’t want her to stop.

Drums joined the bagpipes. The sound echoed from the distance. Iain grabbed Jane by the backs of her thighs and lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he instantly kneeled. His knees hit the soft, wet bed of grass. He lowered her onto her back. Jane pulled his shoulders. Her legs slid along his naked hips. Iain entered her, joining his body to hers with one beautiful thrust.

They made love on the forest floor, surrounded by the sounds of his past, encouraged by the impossible storm raining down on them. Each plunge seemed to stir a strike of lightning and clap of thunder.

Suddenly, she stopped moving. Her eyes were clearer than before. She pushed his face away from her breast. “You said you love me.”

“Aye. And ya said ya are a battery,” he answered playfully.

“I love you too, Iain,” she whispered. “I should have said it right away. I love you too.”

Iain kissed her. “Aye, I know.”

She laughed. The rain lightened. “You know?”

“Of course ya love me. I’m very loveable.” He moved inside her, slower than before. Vines grew from the forest, stretching around them. He felt a tickle against his calf. Jane closed her eyes, moaning softly. He wanted to spend forever cocooned with her in their private world. Their pleasure built into the perfect climatic moment.

Almost instantly, the forest faded.

“Oh, ow,” Jane arched beneath him. She lay on the hard tile of the shower floor. Iain pushed up to free her. She reached behind her and slid out the pile of wet clothes. Iain helped her to her feet. The shower stream continued to run hot as it hit them. “That was some trick. I really thought I was in the forest.”

“That wasn’t my doing,” Iain said.

“Well, I know it wasn’t me.” Jane slid her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

As if to answer her, the tile on the shower wall cracked, and ivy curled in from the wall to reach toward her. It wound around her wrist and stopped. Jane lifted her arm. Iain gently pulled the vine off her and let it drop.

“It would seem I’m not the only one with magick, nature girl.” Iain shut off the water without touching the knob. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better though.”

Jane touched her hair and then hurried naked and dripping with water to a mirror. She sighed in relief to see the dark color. “Yes. I’m feeling much better.”