First Thirst (Craving 1)

“That is all very nice, but I am something of a workaholic. I have to tell you though, I had this feeling…when I stepped out of the plane, it was as though I was coming home, and I would love to start roaming about.”

“I know what you mean by that. Scotland has become my home, even though I hail from London. I had a feeling for Scotland as soon as we arrived…” he said, and then suddenly frowned and turned away for a moment. When he returned his gaze to me, I saw a curious light in his eyes, but he said nothing, so I leaned forward and broke the silence.

“Well, then, I am sure you are busy and I don’t mean to keep you with small talk—so if there is a list of things you need me to attend to while I get my bearings, please let me know and I will get started tomorrow.” I so wanted to explore the castle and its grounds before dark.

“I do, in fact, have just one thing that needs doing as soon as you are able,” he said, and his eyes regarded me thoughtfully.

“Only one thing?” I was surprised.

He smiled. “Yes, be at ease here. Find your way on your own. Then we’ll talk about your duties. Deal?”

“Yes, deal. Sounds like a plan. Wonderful. That was just what I had in mind. However, if you could just fax me a list of things that need managing, I could study it and put together a framework…”

He laughed. “Indeed, right then.” He stood up. “I’ll fax you that list—general duties for now, and then as we move on, we’ll get into all of your duties. How is that?”

“Great, perfect,” I answered, and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe this wouldn’t be as difficult as I had begun to imagine? “You are quite right. Getting a feel for MacLeod will give me a solid idea of the general workings of the estate before I see how best to get things done efficiently and economically.”

“Sounds good to me. I really don’t have the time this place requires and you will be taking a great deal off my hands. We used to have a manager a few years back who lived on the grounds, but one day, he just up and left, and I have been attending to it since then.”

That made me pause before I asked, “Tell me something, Mr. Ascot…”

“Jeremy,” he stuck in.

I gave him a quick smile. “Jeremy, if you don’t mind, I am curious about something.”

“Ask away,” he answered, but I saw a wary look come into his eyes.

I was about to ask him about the ghost rumor, as I know what I heard and needed the truth, but then it happened! All at once, right before my eyes, I saw what I had felt.

It hit me like a slap across my face and called me ‘stupid’. I was in total shock for a moment and couldn’t speak. I just hadn’t picked up on it at first. I suppose I was just too wrapped up in all the books here at my disposal.

Magic. Magic glowed all around him. No, not just glowed but pulsed.

What the hell was wrong with me? Even though I was excited about the books, I would have normally, after a moment or two, noticed his magic aura.

Why hadn’t I recognized it immediately? And then the answer to that question hit me as well.

He had shielded himself. He had tried to hide his magic from me with some kind of shield, but my Shama, obviously stronger than his, broke through!

What the hell were the chances of my boss being a warlock?

What was going on here?

Not only am I a witch. I am a New York witch. That means very little gets by even a young witch like myself.

There was no doubt whatsoever that Jeremy Ascot was a warlock.

What was more important was the fact that he had to know I was a witch. He had to know it because a glan (human) wouldn’t be able to see his magical aura. He shielded himself against me because he knew I would see him.

What I had been sensing from the moment I had looked him over was magic—not earthly, but potent immortal magic. I felt the hair at the back of my neck sizzle with wariness.

Could I be wrong? No, absolutely not.

However, because it seemed incredulous, I doubted myself for a moment. I mean, come on, what were the odds that the MacLeod attorney would be an immortal warlock? I was being ridiculous. But…mana vibrated all around him. It wasn’t earthly mana, but of the immortal brand. I am a skeptic, so I went further and wondered if this could be my magic bouncing off the walls?

No. This—his magic, had a different aura than mine. Way different.

I stared at him. Warlock, warlock, warlock. It was there for my Shama to address and confirm.