Chapter 13 Unbridled Power
He stood frozen, powerlessly watching as Lizzie ran away towards the manor until she disappeared into Triarell’s grove.
Brun strained against an invisible force keeping him rooted where he was. His legs, arms and even his mouth were paralysed, as if he had turned into stone.
Minutes passed while he struggled to set himself free, trying and failing to use the power of his ring. He had never heard of an Enchanter who could wield magic simply by her sheer will. Even Triarell had to weave spells.
How could Lizzie have such power? Was it because she was untrained?
He wanted to bellow in frustration but could not even move his mouth.
Then a horrifying thought crossed his mind. What if Lizzie decided to leave Glennloch? Would she take a car? She was in no state to drive, she could get into an accident…
Brun took a deep breath trying to control his spiralling thoughts.
After what if felt like an eternity, he began to feel his muscles tingling awake when her power waned.
“Heavens!” he muttered as he slowly regained control of his body. He flexed his fingers, happy to be able to move again.
Furious, he motioned to follow her but hesitated. It would not do to go after her when she was so upset. Furthermore, she had exercised her right to kick him out of Glennloch, therefore leaving the manor was not her plan.
The best would be to allow her temper to cool off a little.
With a sigh he crouched to collect the things she had left behind, keeping his mind focussed on the tracking spell which he had discreetly placed on her when he held her hands.
He would not lose Lizzie as he had lost Triarell.
He could not.
The manoeuvre had not been only a subterfuge to cast the spell: he had also been craving to touch her since he left Glennloch. Brun groaned in frustration, knowing he could not touch Lizzie again, at least not until he sorted out his confuse feelings.
If she ever forgave him.
He made his way back to the manor slowly, renewing protective charms that had faded long ago. With his dwindling magic, those charms would not stop the Dreams Thief from entering Glennloch should he wished to, but hopefully it would at least give Brun fair warning.
When he reached the west door of the manor, Brun found Mrs Clisham standing there with her hands planted on her hips, looking as if she were about to face a band of marauders all by herself.
As it was her way, she gave no preamble, addressing him in Gaelic.
“Mr MacLugh, would you care to explain why Lady Lizzie ran into this house a moment ago in bits?”
He clenched his jaws, restraining the urge to rush to Lizzie’s room.
“She… huh–” he started.
Mrs Clisham cut him off, angrier than he had ever seen her before.
“I hope you have not done something improper to her, Mr MacLugh! Surely you must have noticed that the lass is besotted with you! I trust that you behaved every bit the gentleman I believe you to be!”
He was taken aback by Mrs Clisham’s words and he blushed like a little boy.
Besotted?
From the way she had kissed and touched him that night, he had no doubt she desired him, but she had been tipsy, then overwhelmed by her magic and upset about the whole thing, thus he assumed it had only been a moment. The idea that Lizzie could have real feelingsfor him had never crossed his mind.
He stared at Mrs Clisham who was still glaring at him. She did not have children of her own, and since Lizzie had arrived, she had been quite protective of her, behaving like a true mother duck…
Huffing, Brun crossed his arms over his chest and stretched to his full height, hiding the turmoil inside his head behind an undecipherable mask.
“Of course I am a gentleman, Mrs Clisham, how can you doubt it?”
She was taken aback by his serious tone and offended poise.
“Well Mr MacLugh, I–”
He cut her off, “Lady Lochellen was upset because she just received some distressing family news,” he lied and Mrs Clisham clapped her hand over her mouth in horror. Brun went on in his most serious tone, “A cousin has suffered an accident. It was rather concerning, but it seems that he is out of danger now.”
“Oh God in Heaven, the poor darling! No wonder she was so distraught!”
Her words made him feel like the worst of all men alive.
“Yes, well,” he handed her the blanket and Lizzie’s things, “It is best not to disturb Her Ladyship today, Mrs Clisham. Perhaps you could bring a tray to her room if she does not wish to come down for supper?”
Lizzie had not cried that hard since puberty. She washed her face for several minutes with warm water hoping it would reduce the swelling under her eyes.
Yes, I loved her, desperately.
Those words made her humiliation almost impossible to bear.
She had a major crush on a delusional man who only desired her because she was the spitting image of a woman who died two hundred and fifty years before.
My life cannot get any more messed up than this!
Lizzie walked back into her bedroom still drying her face and feeling one level better than rubbish. She had spent most of the night awake, pacing or rolling on her bed and only drifted into a fitful sleep in the wee hours of the morning.
Her stomach rumbled savagely, startling her. After that bizarre conversation with Brun, she had dashed into the house and gone straight to her room, barely acknowledging when Mrs Clisham brought her a tray of food or when she later removed said tray.
Untouched.
She ought to go down and get some food. It would not help to fall sick with hunger.
It was Thursday, she checked on her mobile, therefore the Clishams were sure to be out getting groceries for the weekend…
No wait, the Clishams and the maids were away for two weeks on holidays, while Brun…
She swallowed hard. Brun was too principled and too proud to have ignored what she said – or rather, screamed. He would not have stayed under such uncomfortable circumstances, which meant she was completely alone.
Most likely he went to Edinburgh to stay with his girlfriend and would sent for his belongings later.
Her heart hurt at the thought. It would be strange not finding him in Glennloch, walking around in his suits as if he were the president of a big corporation.
She looked at the portrait hanging over her desk, studying the couple painted there. It was a rather bucolic scene: the late Lady Lochellen was sitting on a garden bench and the man – Lizzie’s nine times grandfather, Colin – stood by her side, his arm lovingly wrapped around her shoulders. He was a bronze-skinned man with auburn hair and golden eyes. A strange colour combination, she reckoned, but he was handsome nonetheless, and with a small smile Lizzie mused that he reminded her a little of her father, though Ben had inherited Lady Lochellen’s eyes and hair colour.
Lizzie stared at her own image in that centuries old portrait and shivered, thinking that The Picture ofDorian Gray was too close to home.
Because your ancestor, Elizabeth Endell, or Triarell Endellys which was her Fae name, was an Enchanter and you seem to have inherited her power.
Fae and magic.
She was a true fan of fantasy stories, but that was all they were – stories. Mysterious energies and mystical phenomena belonged to books and movies.
Yet, how to explain the bizarre ball of light Brun had made appear. How had he done that in an open space? Was that some kind of sick trick to scam her? But to what aim? Did he want to scare her away from Glennloch and keep profiting from the property? If that was the case, he could have simply ignored her existence and carried on living off her inheritance like his predecessors did, and no one would be the wiser.
No, the most logical explanation was simply that he was psychotic. The man had developed a romantic attachment to a dead woman from a painting!
She reached for her mobile and hesitated. Should she call Vivian? But what would she say? If she told her friend about Brun’s deranged speech she was sure to jump on a train and come to her rescue.
Was that what she wanted?
She shook her head.
No, Vivian was busy. It would be selfish of her to call her friend back with that nonsense.
Her stomach rumbled again and she could not help chuckling.
Determined to sort out her issues on her own, Lizzie opened the door and walked out of her room.
Food first, then decisions.
Brun braced himself to face Lizzie when he heard her footsteps approaching the kitchen. He had placed protective charms in her room so he could monitor her safety at all times, thus he had sensed when she began to stir awake and had rushed to cook her breakfast, reckoning that she would be famished. He doubted that Lizzie would be pleased to see him in the house after their row on the previous afternoon, but now more than ever he could do no other than stay and protect her.
It was the sole purpose of his existence after all.
This time, Brun promised himself, he would commit no mistakes. He would act as the warrior he had been groomed to be and was going to stay close and vigilant. If the Dreams Thief were still in the human world, he would be ready to finally face his elusive enemy.
The knob turned and the door swung open. Lizzie yelped and he turned from the hob to greet her with a tentative smile on his face.
But the smile withered and the little speech he had memorised to explain his presence there got jammed in his throat at the sight of her.
Her hair was falling down her shoulders in a mess of tangled ebony locks. Her eyes were swollen from the tears he knew she had shed for the best part of the night, and the physical evidence of her hurt caused a stabbing pain of guilty in his heart.
However, she clearly had not expected to find anyone about the house at that hour, because she was comfortably attired in an old oversized white T-shirt that barely reached her mid-thighs, leaving her well-shaped legs in full view. She was not using a bra and the slightly lower temperature in the kitchen made her nipples poke against the soft fabric, which was transparent enough to suggest the contour of her white underwear.
Never had Lizzie looked more dishevelled and never had he been more allured by her.
His whole body tensed and heated up by her presence, and Brun felt himself moving towards Lizzie as if he were being attracted by a magnet, his head immediately filling with such steamy sensual images that he nearly groaned aloud.
Heavens!
Her angry voice snapped him out of his fantasies.
“What are you still doing here?” she snarled and then turned round, the movement making her breasts bounce under the T-shirt, causing two drops of sweat to break on Brun’s forehead.
Taking a deep breath to regain control of his wits, Brun forced his gaze away from her body and back to her face. Her jaws were set in an angry scowl.
Braving her anger, Brun took another step forward. His hands were tingling with the need to touch her and only his centuries of discipline could help him concentrate on the conversation.
“Your ladyship must have forgotten that the Clishams are on their summer holidays for the next two weeks,” he replied calmly, “So are the maids.”
Her green eyes narrowed angrily at him, “No, I remember it,” Lizzie confirmed, “But what are you doing here? I thought I told you to leave my house!”
“Forgive me, Lizzie, but I could not leave even if I wanted to,” he lifted his right hand and showed his ring to her, “because I am bound to the Endellys Clan and you are the last of the Endellys…”
Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms under her breasts, a gesture which did not help Brun focus on what he had to tell her.
“Are you still insisting on this nonsense? Brun, you need help!” her tone was sympathetic, but there was an underlying hint of worry in her voice and her eyes darted around as if taking note of the exit. She honestly thought him mad.
And dangerous.
“I wish it was all nonsense,” he took another step closer, though he did not even realise he had moved until her face tilted upwards so she could look into his eyes. Lizzie was barefoot and he towered above her by a head.
She was trembling and he forced himself to take a small step back, letting his shoulders sag in a bid to appear less intimidating. Frightening her would not help with the situation.
“I wish we were just ordinary people, but unfortunately it is not the case and pretending otherwise will not make the danger go away. Please, you must listen.”
A shadow crossed her eyes.
“Very well, obviously I cannot make a man of your…” she made a general gesture encompassing the length of his body, “size leave, so I will!”
Brun panicked when she turned on her heels and headed for the door. Glennloch had ancient and powerful defensive spells. If Lizzie left the security of the property, he would not be strong enough to protect her elsewhere. She would be an easy prey for the Dreams Thief.
There was nothing left to do. He had to give her another demonstration and hope it would convince her he was telling the truth.
He reached for the power in his ring and then moved his hands in the air in a swirling motion.
The whole kitchen began to hum and shake. Lizzie yelped when small items took flight and floated in the air, twirling over the kitchen island. Bewildered, she watched as apples and potatoes, cups, spoons and small saucepans danced in the air as if held by invisible strings.
“Do you want to know how I kept myself incognito, Lizzie? How I sailed through the centuries undetected?”
He chanted an aging spell and his skin wrinkled while his hair turned white.
Staring at him in horror, Lizzie screamed and staggered back until she hit the handle of the fridge painfully.
The sound of her cry made Brun flinch. Releasing the spells, he crossed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. She was shaking uncontrollably.
What a stupid oaf I am!He cursed under his breath at his own clumsiness. Acting on fear was never a wise thing to do.
“Please forgive me,” he muttered against her hair, “I did not mean to frighten you.”
Her face was buried in her hands and she did not reply for a full minute.
“Well, you did not do a good job then!” she sobbed into her hands.
Brun knew it was not the time, but he could not help grinning. She could not restrain her wit even when she was scared to death.
Gently he placed his knuckles under her chin and pushed her face up.
But that was another mistake.
Like on the night he first kissed her, Lizzie’s eyes were glistening with tears behind her glasses, and the morning light filtering through the kitchen’s window made her irises shine like polished emeralds. She seemed frail and scared like a doe, but her power over him was something which Brun had never experienced before. He wanted her like he had never wanted anything in his life.
Suddenly something snapped inside him, like a light bulb had been lit in his head.
He wanted her. Lizzie.
He wanted Lizzie, because she was Lizzie, not because she was the spitting image of Triarell. He had loved Triarell, but his desire for her had never made him forget his own name as Lizzie’s mere presence did. Triarell had been a dream, a fanciful fantasy, while Lizzie was real.
She was real and human like him. She was not an unreachable being, aloof and detached. She was real and warm.
And she was beautiful.
Very slowly he pulled out her glasses setting them on the counter and then lowered his lips to her forehead. He inhaled the smell of her hair, which still had the scent of the loch, summery and briny, though he could feel her natural scent.
Roses.
Then he slid his lips down, kissing one eyelid and then the other, tasting the salt on her skin. He wanted to flail himself for bringing so many tears to her eyes.
He brushed her cheeks with his mouth and she leaned forward, letting out a small soft noise that made his body catch fire. Unable to control himself any longer, Brun captured her lips.
Her mouth parted almost instantly, allowing his tongue to plunge deeply, finding hers equally eager. Her arms wrapped around his neck and Brun pulled her closer to his chest, groaning when her breasts pressed against the thin fabric of his shirt.
His hands slid down her back, pressing her bottom and then sliding under the hem of her T-shirt.
When she felt the heat of Brun’s body, all Lizzie could focus on was on the taste of his mouth and his masculine smell.
Citrus and sandalwood.
He was holding her firmly as if he were determined to never let her go and she was more than happy with that arrangement. Her hands eagerly pulled his shirt from inside his trousers, desperate to feel his skin under her palms.
Then somehow his hands found their way under her sleeping T-shirt and were now cupping her breasts. She moaned and cried when his thumbs moved in slow circular movements over her nipples.
God she wanted him. She needed Brun like she needed air.
Yes, I loved her desperately.
Unbidden, the phrase echoed in her head and it felt as if someone had slapped her on the face, snapping Lizzie awake from the daze that had taken over her mind.
Finding her strength, she pushed him, stepping away.
Brun stared at her in shock, his eyes glazed with desire, his breath haggard.
“No!” she cried, hot tears running anew down her cheeks, “I am not going to be some poor substitute for a woman in a painting!”
He blinked at her, as if he had no idea of what she was talking about.
“Lizzie–” he tried, reaching for her.
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed and the shrill sound of her voice surprised her. Lizzie disliked tantrums and making scenes, but she seemed to have completely lost control.
Her stomach bubbled as if there was a cauldron of boiling water inside her. The sensation of heat grew and grew, expanding all over her chest, down to her arms and legs until every inch of her body felt feverish.
“Lizzie!” Brun repeated, but this time his voice was thick with warning.
However, even if she wanted, Lizzie could not reply. The sensation of heat grew stronger and her body began to hum as if there was a whole orchestra playinginside her. A melody which felt as old as the Earth itself.
The humming burst free from her in shockwaves, making her chest vibrate as if she were standing in front of a giant loudspeaker.
The whole kitchen began to pulse in unison. Cupboard doors shook, plates and cups rattled on the shelves. Drawers opened and closed on their own accord, making the cutlery clank. Fruits from the baskets took to the air like Brun had done before, only they spun dizzily fast and in random directions. Taps began to run and all appliances turned on, blipping and blinking uncontrollably.
It was like a horror version of Beauty and the Beast.
“Lizzie!” he tried a third time dodging a toaster that flew past his head, but she only stood where she was, staring at the mayhem around them, knowing with frightening certainty that she was doing all that, because she was now very much aware of the existence of everything in the kitchen, as if apples and cups and spoons were part of her own body.
“Oh God! Brun!” she cried in desperation, unable to move, “Help me!”
Stunned, Brun watched Lizzie’s magic going completelyout of control. Heavens, she is far more powerful than I thought!
The humming of her power was so strong now that even the stone walls were shuddering. If he did not do something soon, she was going to make the ground beneath them quake and demolish the whole manor.
She was not going to be able to rein in her magic on her own, so there was only one thing left for him to do.
Brun took a step closer, feeling his ring spark to life.
“Forgive me Lizzie.”
Then he closed his hands into a fist, pointed at her and released his power.
A glowing orb sprouted from his hand, hitting Lizzie squarely on the chest. She moaned in pain and her eyes rolled in her sockets.
He grabbed her by the waist just as her body collapsed.