New York City had a lot of metal and concrete, and very little by way of plant life. What it did have was large crowds, which made it easy to hide in plain sight. No one really paid attention to a man walking around in a kilt, and foreign accents didn’t tend to stick out as they did in their current Midwestern home.
Although the family had thrived in many ways in the city, their magick had starved. They could only take so much power-infusing life from Central Park and community gardens before they killed every plant in Manhattan like a magickal plague.
In contrast, the mansion his extended family had purchased in Green Vallis came with eighty acres of forest. Here, they could take the energy they needed from the woods as a whole without killing a single tree. There was more than enough to keep their magick healthy. They could live at peace with nature, taking care of it as it took care of them.
He glanced at Jennifer, letting his gaze slide down to her legs to where she clutched her apron. There was another way to fuel magick, one they’d had to resort to quite often in New York City—sex. Sexual energy could give a quick infusion, much like a rush of adrenaline. It wasn’t sustainable and didn’t last all that long, but damn, it was fun.
Unfortunately, Green Vallis’s power also attracted unsavory supernatural creatures. The ley lines pulsed like a beacon, welcoming good and evil without discrimination. In the few short years they had lived there, they’d fought a psychic entity called a lidérc, numerous ghosts, gremians, trolls, goblins, leprechauns, a banshee, possessions, demon spawns, and a couple of regular sick-ass murdering humans.
There were even a few non-threatening supernaturals living in town, like Jefferson, Jennifer’s boss. He was a third-generation dhampir, the product of a vampire and human pairing. The family was keeping an eye on him. The last thing they wanted was vampires coming to town, but the man didn’t appear connected to a den.
Despite all these inconveniences, the MacGregor family was determined to make it work. They were not giving up Green Vallis without a fight. And they sure as hell weren’t leaving it to become overrun by those with malevolent intent.
“This is awkward, huh?” Jennifer said, breaking the silence.
“Excuse me?”
“You didn’t have to agree to give me a ride. I know you are being polite because Maura suggested it,” she said. “After taking me to the motel last night and making sure I was unharmed, you’ve done more than enough. I’m fine if you want to take me straight to the Crimson Tavern. Or here. I can get out here and walk.”
Rory realized he hadn’t been talking. His mind had been drifting. He needed to figure out the question of who this woman was and what had happened the night before.
“Who have ya been around, love, that such an idea is even a remote possibility?” Rory demanded, unable to help himself. “Who would drop a woman in the middle of town, blocks away from her destination? And before fulfilling the simple promise of coffee?”
She leaned slightly away from him, her eyes focusing on his face.
“I only meant to say it’s not a very gentlemanly thing to do.” He eased his tone as he tried to explain.
“All right,” she said. Her hands had tightened on the apron.
“Any man worth the name would help a woman in distress,” he insisted.
“All right,” she repeated.
“I said I’d give ya ride, and I meant it,” he continued.
“Thanks,” she answered, her tone a little flat. “The ride is appreciated.”
She looked like he’d been yelling at her. So much for his MacGregor charm. What the hell was wrong with him? He should be complimenting her and making her laugh, not lecturing her about whatever it was he was lecturing her about.
“All I meant was—”
“I get it,” she interrupted. “It wasn’t my intention to insult your manhood.”
“I don’t think ya insulted my manhood.”
“Your gentlemanly-hood then.”
“I don’t think ya insulted me.”
“All right.”
He wished she’d stop saying that. It made him feel like a little kid being tolerated by a tired parent.
“Ya don’t remember anything from the forest last night?” He twisted his hands against the steering wheel.
Since moving to Green Vallis, all of his cousins who’d been born of Uncle Angus and Aunt Margareta had found their true loves—Erik found Lydia, Iain found Jane, Euann found Cora, Malina re-found her luck demon Dar, Niall found Charlotte, and Kenneth found Andrea. Even Uncle Fergus had found the reincarnation of his long-dead wife, Elspeth.
The odds of meeting a fíorghrá, a true love, were astronomical, considering they lived for hundreds of years. But for so many of his clan to have met them here, now? It was almost too much to comprehend. It had to be part of the local magick, or so Rory hoped.
For some stupid reason, he’d convinced himself Jennifer was going to mean something special to him. The second that he saw her he’d felt his world change.
Maybe after seven pairings for the MacGregor family, fate thought it had done enough.
Rory couldn’t help but be jealous. He had no problem finding women to have sex with him, but he wanted more. He wanted a connection, a wife, someone who loved him unconditionally, and who he could love in return with every fiber of his being.
In searching for that dream, that wish, he was afraid he’d start desperately trying to force any women he met into that mold. Was that what happened with Jennifer? Was he taking the fact she’d tried to murder him and twisting it into some sign that wasn’t
