Page 7 of Druid Cursed

CHAPTER

Kellen pushed past the French doors from the garden into the dining hall and strode toward his brother sitting at the head table. The welcome dinner was finished and the dishes had been cleared, leaving only sparkling glasses and the handful of glittering guests circled around Caedmon.

“I have a quandary.” Kellen swept a blackthorn scowl over the lingering men and women. One by one, they fled without incident. Jeeves held the door open, guiding them out. Once they were gone and the door safely shut, Kellen straddled the empty chair beside Caedmon and turned his ire on his twin.

“I met Maggie O’Malley in the garden. She drank from your flask, the same flask I drank from earlier.

That was no coincidence.” And the kiss had confirmed there was a spell at work, though he dared not reveal to his brother how he knew of such, or there would be no end to his teasing.

“What extra ingredient did you add to it? Birch? Hawthorn blossoms? Juniper berries? Confess now, and I shall refrain from pummeling you.”

“The fresh air not suit you, brother?” Caedmon’s teeth flashed in the candlelight, a wolf grinning at trapped prey.

“My blood burns even now, and my mood darkens with each moment I endure your infernal leer.” Kellen jerked his disheveled tie free. “Tell me what love spell you concocted and why you sought that I be enchanted by Sorch a’s descendant, the very woman we must sacrifice on Samhain.”

“Me?” he said, tone innocent. “A spell? There was nothing in that flask but Jeeves’s best whiskey. Although…”

Kellen wrapped his fingers around his tie instead of his brother’s neck and waited for the axe to fall.

“I slept in the yew grove last full moon,” Caedmon said in a low voice.

“I dreamed of you both. So, yes, I added a spell to the whiskey, but merely the weakest truth spell so you’d recognize each other.

” All humor drained from his expression.

“ Chuid den tsaol . She has to be yours. Based on your reaction, I’m certain of it now. ”

Mo chuid den tsaol. Maggie was his other half. His one true love .

The breath fled his lungs. His brother may enjoy playing the prankster, but jesting about true love? Never.

That meant his heart’s beloved…was Sorcha’s descendant? Impossible.

Kellen sucked in a great gulp of air and planted his palms on the table for balance. “Nay, it cannot be. Your skills have weakened during my absence.”

“Doubtful.” Caedmon’s throat worked and emotion sheened his eyes, dulling the edge of Kellen’s wrath.

“I considered keeping it to myself. I couldn’t fathom how I was supposed to tell you that your long-awaited true love is also the relative of your greatest enemy.

Or that the only way to break your curse is to sacrifice her.

Either way, I’m a cold-blooded bastard.”

He blew out a long breath. “We pledged to be beacons of light in a dark world, seekers of truth, no matter how difficult. I always prefer honesty.”

Kellen coiled his tie around his hand until it cut off circulation.

Caedmon’s proficiencies leaned toward the darker nature of druidry, not prophetic vision.

“Sorcha orchestrated your dream, daring to taunt me with the possibility of true love while destroying any hope. What better revenge, aye?” ’Twas the only explanation.

“Sorcha’s a real witch, no matter the century,” Caedmon agreed. Leaning forward, he squeezed Kellen’s shoulder, his dark eyes intent. “Even if Sorcha is using Maggie against us, she won’t stop us this time. You’ll be free, I promise.”

He wished he could be so certain. “Despite the fact she has never appeared before Samhain, Sorcha made her presence known to me this eve. She claimed to have set a trap, stirred the shadows in the garden. Harmless, a squander of her power, and yet her confidence is troubling. I fear she speaks true.”

Caedmon leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. “Maybe she just wants us to believe she’s got magic to waste.”

“Bluff or no, I detected an abnormality in the outer ward when the guests arrived.” Kellen rose, leaving the hellish bowtie on the table. “Mayhap she intends to use either Maggie or her companion in her quest to keep me imprisoned.”

“Sorcha has never managed to break your outer ward, let alone the middle and inner wards. She’s never weaseled through without breaking them. Even if by some twist of ill fate she did, the wards would disable her powers while inside.”

“But a minion could walk inside as easily as you or I…or any guest.”

Caedmon stroked his chin, his eyes narrowed. “Maggie’s friend, Wendy, didn’t attend the welcome dinner. She claimed to be sick.”

“Maggie repeated the very same to me. Sorcha might already have her pawn in place, whether it be Maggie or Wendy. She may not wait until Samhain to strike. We must be vigilant and remain near to them both.”

“Good plan.” Caedmon drained his glass and thumped it on the table. “I’ll watch for Wendy while you work on wooing Maggie, keep her close. Make sure she doesn’t do anything witchy.”

Damnation, but a part of him was tempted to woo her in truth. When Maggie had smiled at him, a spark had lit inside. He had felt…seen. Connected. For a heavenly moment, he had forgotten the existence of his curse, and he had not wanted that sensation to depart.

Even before the curse, Kellen had surrendered the notion of having his own family someday, refused to wed a woman he could never love or sire a child with simply to ensure the Ravenwood line continued. Yet now, at the mere thought of the possibility, he could not deny a spark of yearning.

Memories of his childhood washed through him—before he and Caedmon had any notion of druids, darkness, or curses—the warmth of his mother’s smile, her callused hand on his back, reassuring, as they settled before the hearth after a long day.

Those brief, happy moments, his personal definition of what a family should be, had never faded, neither beneath the taxing years of druid tutelage nor his mother’s betrayal.

Even if Maggie was his soul mate as Caedmon believed… He was uncertain which was worse, believing his true love did not exist, or believing he found her only to be forced to abandon her after a few brief days together.

Or sacrifice her.

A chill wormed into his heart, diluting the heat still burning from Maggie’s chaste kiss in the garden. A futile, fanciful dream. He had to remain focused, on guard against Sorcha’s sinister deeds.

“I should make the rounds and double-check the wards, as well,” Caedmon said.

“Nay, I will see to it myself.” As the eldest Ravenwood, keeping the land safe was his responsibility, his birthright. He would bolster as much as he could while free.

“Settle down, Kel. I’ve got this,” Caedmon assured him.

“I need to collect a few last-minute items for the first ritual tomorrow, anyway. Each contestant’s strength will be tested, and whoever falls short is out.

We can’t waste time on people who can’t perform.

The final ceremony will require a substantial amount of focus and energy, more than I can summon on my own.

Every seed of magic we harness must hold enough power to boost our stores to the level we’ll need.

” He cocked his head, the mischievous twinkle returning to his eyes.

“It’ll be interesting to see what wee Maggie might muster, don’t you think? ”

The mere thought of Maggie wreathed in magic sent a jolt through him. He mentally shook it off. True love or not, dwelling his thoughts on her would only lead to pain.

“Besides,” Caedmon continued, “you’re not at full capacity yet. A little more time to reconnect with the land will do you good before you go charging into battle.”

Kellen scowled. As much as he was loath to admit it, Caedmon was correct. But the moment he fully regained his strength, he would be about his druid duties.

His brother turned away, then paused, looking at him over his shoulder. “Think you can manage not to scare anyone while I’m away?”

He flashed his favorite smile, all menace and teeth. “I make no promises.”

…

Maggie almost bumped into a tray of medicine, sparkling soda, and extra crackers waiting outside the door to their room. Those Ravenwoods were men of their word.

She tipped the flask for the last few drops of liquid fire.

Her lips still tingled, as if she’d had a full-on make-out session with Kellen instead of a simple, one-second kiss.

The barbed memories of Darren and his lies blurred beneath a cool wave of what if .

Despite her vow to be independent of men and their shenanigans, to focus solely on the contest and her future, it felt nice to be pursued. Especially by Kellen.

Dark. Deadly. Delicious.

She blinked woozily at the silver flask with its embossed vines and complex knots. Nah, she was just drunk. In the morning, her sensibility would return to normal, and she’d remember every good reason why she should remain a romance-free woman.

The dozen hallway candles hissed and flickered, and she swore the golden glow changed to a sickly green for a heartbeat. Whoa. Now she was seeing things. It was definitely time to crash for the night.

In case Wendy slept, she eased the door open and crept inside with the tray.

The bathroom light remained on, casting the museum-size bedroom in shadows, but no toilet worshippers knelt on the floor.

Relief washed through her. Hopefully, Wendy would snooze away the nastiness and start her rich bachelor hunting fresh tomorrow.

A strange muttering rose from the darkness, and the hair on the back of Maggie’s neck prickled.

She set the tray on the table beside the door and inched forward again.

Wendy was sprawled out in one of the four-poster beds, her legs twisted in the sheets, perspiration beading her brow.

Eyes closed, her lips moved fast, her voice low and guttural, uttering words Maggie couldn’t make out.

“Wen, are you okay?” She sat on the edge of the bed and grasped Wendy’s arm. Her skin was icy cold, her limbs stiff, muscles locked down tight. “Wake up, girl. You’re fever-sleep-talking. I’ve got flu medicine and the crackers you asked for.”

The creepy muttering didn’t stop. A cold knot coiled tight in her belly. It was as if Wendy couldn’t sense her at all.

Maggie gave her a little shake, which had the same effect as trying to move a boulder.

An odd buzzing filled the room, and her flesh felt like it wanted to slither off her bones, wrong in so many ways.

They never should have come here. They should be back at home, safe in cozy pajamas on the couch, watching television and sipping wine.

“Snap out of it, woman!” Fear pushed her to act quickly and firmly.

She clapped hard in Wendy’s face. “You’ve got a killer mansion to explore, elbows to rub, champagne to drink, and two Ravenwood bachelors to schmooze into fighting over your affections.

” Panic rose in her chest, and her voice squeaked.

“I can’t win this contest without you. Get your brain back here right now before I kick your skinny rump! ”

The muttering cut out, leaving only Maggie’s ragged breaths echoing in the quiet. Was she okay now? Or should she call someone?

Wendy’s eyelids fluttered, and she went limp. Groaning, she squinted at Maggie, her eyes bloodshot but normal. “Did you just mention Ravenwood and elbow in the same sentence?”

Maggie sagged with relief, then vaulted onto the bed and hugged her friend. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“Whatever.” Wendy rolled enough to wrap an arm around her waist. “You’re the one talking about snapping killers and skinny brains.”

A laugh bubbled up, and Maggie relaxed into the pillows. “You totally tranced out and were talking in your sleep.”

“You’ve been drinking,” Wendy accused, her expression groggy. “I can smell it.”

“True.”

But enough to hallucinate what she’d just seen? That was some potent whiskey…and she’d had a glass of wine and a shot at dinner.

She wanted to believe it was just the alcohol and an accumulation of stress caused by one odd event after the other this evening, but the way her voice sounded, the buzzing in the air… It hadn’t felt like a drunken hallucination. She pressed a hand to Wendy’s forehead—cool, normal.

Wendy swatted her away with a groan. “I’m fine. You’re just imagining things.”

The confidence in her tone made Maggie second-guess herself. She ignored her lingering doubts and drummed up a smile. “Must be the combo of excitement—divorce, Ireland, Halloween contests, and watching my BFF toss her cookies. Feeling better?”

“Mmm. Nothing left to puke.” Wendy cuddled her pillow and closed her eyes. “Watch out tomorrow, Ravenwood. I’m coming for you.”

“Which one?” Maggie brushed a damp curl out of Wendy’s eyes. “Caedmon or Kellen?”

“Both.” She flailed a hand in a shooing motion. “Don’t let me sleep late tomorrow, okay? I have tons to do and not much time.”

Maggie smiled in the darkness. The Ravenwood twins wouldn’t know what hit them, and it would be a win-win for her.

In the slim odds that Kellen hadn’t merely been acting out some seductive role in the Magic, Moonlight, and Mayhem Halloween production, Wendy would distract him.

And seeing them together would cure any lingering fascination, a firm reminder that men were fickle.

Not that she’d be playing innocent bystander.

Her agenda included room service and reading books in between sketchy competition rituals.

“Want any crackers?” she asked.

Wendy answered with a soft snore.

“Sleep tight.” She tucked her friend in and collapsed on her own bed.

Despite her exhaustion, the memory of Wendy’s odd behavior kept her awake.

She focused on her breathing, forcing her shoulders to relax.

Too much had happened tonight. The dinner, the garden, the kiss…

these supposed hallucinations. But there was nothing she could do about it now. She needed to just empty her mind—

A soft hiss came from near the door, and Maggie sat up, her heart pounding. She tiptoed across the room, careful not to wake Wendy. A black envelope waited on the floor, where someone had slid it beneath the door. She picked it up.

Thick, expensive-feeling paper bore a red wax seal stamped with the emblem of a raven.

Her name was written in elegant calligraphy on the opposite side.

This had to be about the competition. Wendy’s name wasn’t on it, a reminder Maggie was in this contest alone.

She hesitated, then accepted her fate and tore it open.

You have been chosen to participate in the first ritual tomorrow, 9:00 a.m. sharp. Do not be late. Sleep well. Gather your strength. You’ll need it.

~CR