Stirring Up Trouble: A Warlocks MacGregor Novella by Michelle M. Pillow Page A

the real threats had been dealt with. They’d killed the lidérc threat and the local bean nighe. One was a psychic vampire. The other was a bringer of death. The odds that a third threat resided in mid-Wisconsin were highly unlikely.
    He waited, listening and watching to see if he could detect trouble. The skies did not darken. The weather did not change. He leaned over the hundred-year-old oak banister and found Rory holding completely still midstride. Curious, he asked the boys, “Who is Belladonna?”
    “Shh!” his nephews hissed in unison. Rory frantically waved his arms, as if doing so could force his uncle to remain quiet.
    Seeing the look on Rory’s face, Fergus relaxed some. After centuries of living, he was used to his family’s antics. Unconcerned, he made his way down the stairs. The familiar feel of his leather satchel pressed against his hip like an old friend, gently reminding him of what he must do.
    The centuries had turned his grief into a hollow pit inside his soul. A constant ache radiated from there, and time had not lessened his love or the depth of his loss. It had, however, lessened his hope. It was his family that kept him going. His nephews, representatives of the sons he would never have. His brothers and sisters, pains-in-the-arses who didn’t let him disappear into a magickal vortex. Malina, the niece he’d promised to watch over.
    “What are ya doing?” Euann whispered.
    Fergus frowned. The answer should have been obvious. He was doing the same thing he’d done every day, every night, for over four hundred years. He was going to call his Elspeth to him. Someday, her soul would hear him. Someday, he’d find his answer. Someday, he would be with her again. He had to believe it because he had nothing else to believe.
    Whatever is beyond, find me again.
    He’d promised her.
    Euann glanced down to the bag carrying the latest of Fergus’s magickal concoctions as if answering his own question.
    “Euann, why are ya trying to block your uncle from leaving?” Angus appeared carrying a giant roasted turkey leg. He pointed it at his son. “Stop playing around and pack a bag. You’re going to New York to check our assets there.”
    “Why me?” Euann dropped his arms.
    “Ya wanted to start the tech-whatever company,” Angus said. “Their robots are sick, and they gave the workers a hacking cough. I will not be responsible for the end of mankind because ya want to play with—”
    “Sick?” Euann frowned for a moment. “Hackers gave us a virus?”
    “Isn’t that what I said?” Angus took a bite of the turkey leg. “Go and make sure everyone in the office has medical care.”
    “Computer virus,” Euann stated.
    “And shut down the cyborg army,” Angus ordered. “If we want to end mankind, we’ll use magick like respectable warlocks.”
    “I’ve told ya, they are not those kinds of robots. They are prototypes. We are designing medical equipment for third-world countries, and trying to develop lifelike cadavers for—” Euann attempted to explain.
    “Hey, where’d that come from?” Rory interrupted, nodding at the turkey leg.
    They all knew what the medical research lab was working on, but it was entertaining to frustrate Euann. At their age, they took their fun where they could get it.
    “Malina is materializing food with Jane out of a Renaissance Faire catalog,” Angus stated. “I’ll tell ya lads one thing is certain. Dinner is much better now that we have Iain’s little battery.”
    Angus referred to his nephew’s new wife, Jane. She was a natural power source for their magick. Magick had to come from some place. That kind of energy didn’t just appear out of nowhere. Although sex would work for a power surge, it wasn’t a steady source. Typically, they borrowed energy from the environment. It was why they had moved to Wisconsin. Green Vallis was a strong place filled with nature. However, since Jane was half bean nighe , she acted like a power conduit, which