Page 23 of Bewitched Before Christmas
Lachlan touched a finger to the scar. “He got this in a brawl in a bar in Glasgow. Over a prostitute. When he was sixteen. He used to tell the lassies it was a war wound.” His hand dropped to his side. “Jesus. He was trying to kill me. We were closer than brothers. And now he hates me.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe it was just a…” She searched her mind for an explanation. But it certainly looked like he’d planned to kill Lachlan. The sword. The expression on his face. Probably planned to chop off Lachlan’s head. “…a misunderstanding. He likely didn’t even recognize you. It has been a long time.”
“He knew me. It makes sense now. The things he said.”
“Then maybe it’s a werewolf thing. Nasty, vicious lot.” Her sister Regan was a werewolf now—though Regan had always been pretty fierce. And Regan was in love with a werewolf—well half-werewolf. So they couldn’t all be bad. “And perhaps he doesn’t like vampires. Didn’t he kill the last head vampire? Isn’t that why you were here in the first place?”
“Yeah, but the guy was an asshole. I would have killed him if I’d had to live in the same country.” He pressed a finger to his forehead. “This thing tonight was a setup. Agreeing to the meeting. Just an excuse to get me out in the open. The stinger across the road. The car crash. Chasing us here. Close to where we grew up. Would he have told me before he killed me?”
She glanced at the man with the big sword. “From the look on his face, I don’t think he had conversation in mind.”
“You have to wake him up.”
She frowned. “So he can finish what he started? Do you have a death wish?”
“No. So I can say I’m sorry.”
“For what? It wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have said no to Darius. I chose eternal life and turned my back on the one man who loved me. My only family.”
“You thought he was dead.”
She might as well not have spoken for all the notice he took. “I chose to survive. I should have refused.”
“Except then you would have been dead as well. And no good to him at all.”
He threw her an annoyed glance. “You need to reverse the spell.”
“And I told you, I don’t know how. I don’t know how I did this. So how am I supposed to know how to make it go away.” And right now, that wasn’t a bad thing. The way Lachlan was behaving, he’d just stand there while the other guy chopped off his head. He needed to snap out of this funk and get a grip. For all she knew, they were stuck together for eternity. And this new, humble Lachlan was not an improvement. She wanted cocky, sexy Lachlan back. Even moody, scary Lachlan was better than this.
Suddenly she was tired and cold.
She left him standing, staring broodingly at his ‘brother’ and walked out of the circle of wolves. Perching on a boulder, she hugged her arms around her knees, trying to keep warm.
She wanted to go home; except they were probably all frozen in time as well. And even if they weren’t, no one at home wanted her.
And now, likely, no one ever would.
She’d be alone for eternity.
***
Lachlan stared at the man in front of him. Seeing the similarities and the changes. Gabe had always been the lighter of the two of them. The joker. Lachlan had been the serious one.
Now he looked hard, harsh lines furrowed his face. How had he lived over the centuries? Had he been in Scotland all this time? Living in the cottage, with the memories.
When had he found out that Lachlan was alive?
Had he been happy? If he had, then the feeling hadn’t lasted.
Now he wanted him dead.
He turned around, felt a flash of panic as he realized Lola was no longer beside him. Then he caught sight of her, perched on the boulder, wrapped in his long leather coat. She looked small and cute and sexy as hell. But her expression was sad.
This wasn’t her fault. She’d cast her spell to save his life and not thought of the cost. And from what she had said, that cost would be high. He’d been right all along—he needed to keep his distance, because the moment he got close to anyone, they died.
Except Gabe. Obviously he hadn’t died.
