When finally her lungs felt as if they would explode, she pulled away to gasp for breath. Sometime during the kiss, she’d forgotten to keep her eyes open, and now that they were closed, she was afraid to look.
“…you are,” she whispered, finishing the words that had been forced from her lips.
He touched her arms, and she gasped, opening her eyes. They kneeled on the driveway. Cobblestones pressed uncomfortably into her knees.
“Jennifer?” Rory’s gaze moved over her face.
“I can’t tell what’s real,” she whispered, unwilling to let go of him. “Tell me, is this happening? Is this real?”
His hands covered hers on his face. “I’m real. This is real.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. Maybe she wasn’t as sane as she thought. A woman could only take so much—intruders, voices, lost time, liquid rage.
“I don’t want to kill you,” she said.
Rory gave a soft laugh. “That’s good to hear, love. I wasn’t too sure there for a moment.”
How could he be smiling and laughing at a time like this? Her emotions were a tattered mess.
“I don’t know where the anger comes from,” she said. “It’s not mine. I don’t hate like this.”
“If it makes ya kiss me like that, I think I like it when ya are mad at me,” Rory answered.
“I’m serious, Rory,” she scolded.
“So am I.” He glanced down. “Feel beneath my kilt if ya don’t believe me.”
Jennifer caught herself automatically glancing down. It was difficult to see any shapes beneath the thick material, but his meaning wasn’t lost on her. He kept her hands against his face, keeping her close to him.
Despite the very prurient interest her body had in taking him up on the offer, her mind concentrated on maintaining a semblance of control. “Do you take anything seriously?”
“Believe me, when it comes to pleasing a woman, I take my duties very seriously.” His voice dipped, and when he looked her over, she felt as if he undressed her with his eyes. It stirred the already rampant desire bubbling inside of her. “And I’m very good at it.”
Damn him.
Just damn him.
“Rory, I’m not joking. Something is wrong with me.” Jennifer tried to pull her hands away from his face. He held her to him a few moments longer but finally released her.
“The only thing wrong is that for someone or something is using bad magick on ya, forcing ya to do things. It’s not your fault,” Rory said. “And I promise we’re going to stop it. I won’t let anyone or anything hurt ya.”
Jennifer slowly stood. She eyed the knife on the ground and stepped several paces away from it. “Raibeart was in the woods. He had magick on his hands like you did. He hit me with it to stop me.”
“Yes.” Rory nodded. “To save me.”
“That’s why you didn’t bring me to a doctor.”
“There was nothing the hospital or the police could do for ya.” Rory was slower to stand. He also looked at the weapon lying on the ground and put himself between her and the blade. “I wanted to tell ya, but…”
He lifted his hand. She expected to see the blue light erupt.
“Magick is real.” Jennifer took a deep breath and held it. “Out of all the explanations for what I’ve been feeling, I don’t know if that one makes me feel better or worse. If not magick, then I have some real psychological issues. But if it’s real, then, well, I’m not sure what then.”
“Run!”
Jennifer jumped in surprise as a Raibeart burst through the trees behind her and took off up the drive. He had his hands cupped over his manhood.
“Raibeart!” Murdoch leaped from the trees and chased after him. His shirt was ripped, but he still wore his kilt and boots.
“They’re after me dangly jewels!” Raibeart cried. Instead of going to the front door, he ran toward the side of the house. He disappeared around the corner.
Murdoch darted past his son. “Run!”
“Gremahdamma.”
“Damma-damma.”
Rory’s eyes widened at the monstrous chatter. He shot toward her and grabbed her hand. “Run!”
“What?” Jennifer tried to look into the trees, but Rory hauled her toward the house.
She heard the patter of tiny feet behind them. Rory led the way to the side of his car.
“Down,” he ordered as he tugged her to the ground. He wrapped his arms around her, shielding her with his body as he held her against the tire.
“Damma-damma,” a creature cackled.
Jennifer watched Murdoch from under Rory’s arm as he disappeared from view chasing after Raibeart.
Heavy thumps landed on Rory’s car seconds before a hoard of knobby little creatures jumped over their heads and continued after Raibeart and Murdoch. She’d never seen anything like it, at least not outside of a horror movie.
As the thumps on Rory’s car ended, he slowly pulled up to check.
“Damma!” A straggler came over the car, brushing over Rory’s hair.
“Oh, ow,” Rory grunted as the creature used his hair to control the trajectory of its landing.
“What is that?” Jennifer whispered as the tiny creature faced them.
“Gremian,” Rory said.
“Gremlin?” Jennifer kept her back pressed against the wheel.
“Gremian,” Rory corrected. He put himself in front of her to create a shield between her and the small attacker. His fingers began to glow, and he cocked his arm back. “Close.”
The gremian chattered as it ambled toward them. It sniffed in her direction. Its tiny eyes widened, and it screeched as it hurried after its friends.
“What the…?” Jennifer stared where it disappeared.
“Huh, he seemed scared of ya,” Rory observed.
“Of me?” Jennifer shook her head in disbelief.
“They’re gone, come on.” Rory pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get inside.”
Jennifer looked to make sure there weren’t any more coming for them. The driveway was clear. She glanced at Rory’s car. Dents dotted the hood.
She stumbled a little to keep up with him. “They wrecked your car.”
“Don’t
