Moonlit Magic

by T. M. Cromer

Her vision blurred, and she swiped the back of her hand along her damp cheeks.

  “I’ll remember,” she lied. If she survived today, the one percent would be snuffed out. They both knew it as surely as they drew breath.

  “Please do.”

  She smiled at his formal tone. “Goodbye, my precious boy. Remember to cloak yourself, and don’t come out for anyone but Alastair Thorne,” she reminded him.

  Then he was gone.

  The grass muted the sound of footfalls, but Isolde sensed the crowd forming behind her. Slowly, hands in the air, she turned to face the dozen or more people who’d come to destroy the Aether.

  Fools.

  Her attention was caught by the blond man in front. She tilted her head to the side as she focused on him. The man looked slightly different from her earlier vision. Thinner and a bit taller. Less elegant, somehow.

  “Alastair Thorne?” she asked curiously.

  He shot a quick look at the older warlock next to him. “Nathanial Thorne.”

  “You’ll not set your sights on my son,” the auburn-haired man beside him said gruffly.

  She laughed.

  Sauntering forward, Isolde kept her gaze locked on Nathanial Thorne, ignoring his father completely. “You’re incredible. All fierce and proud. Your magic…” She closed her eyes and inhaled the warm scent of cinnamon. “Your magic is divine.”

  Her eyes snapped open, and she released the seductive energy she used to reel in her victims. “Come to me, Nathanial,” she purred. “I want to taste you, lover.”

  “Shit!”

  Her magic was met with resistance as he shook his head and jerked backward.

  “Evie,” he said under his breath.

  A vision came to her of a pale-haired woman with amber eyes. Her gaze held love for the man standing before Isolde now.

  “She’s lovely. I’ve never seen anyone with her hair color before. So silver as to be white,” she said, taking another step toward him and lifting her hand to beckon him forward. “If you join me now, I shall spare her life.”

  The blood drained from his face, leaving his skin a sickly shade of gray. But he stood his ground.

  Suddenly, a bright gold light flared between them, and Damian ran through the rift, placing himself in front of Nathanial. Shock held her immobile as Nathanial’s father raised his arm, a flaming ball of energy directed at her son.

  “Noooooo!” she screamed. She surged forward, prepared to decimate the entire group if it meant saving Damian.

  Nathanial caught his father’s arm before it descended, and he shook his head. Wrapped in his other arm was her boy. “We don’t make war on children, Father. You taught me that.”

  “He’s her son, Nate. He’ll grow to be evil like her.” In desperation, he added, “Did you forget what she did to your brother Jonah?”

  Nathanial’s cold-eyed stare collided with his father’s. “He’s a boy, now under my protection. You’ll not harm him.”

  Isolde’s shock held her immobile, and she met Damian’s sad, knowing eyes across the short distance. He’d seen the future, and it was Nathanial Thorne who would see her son to adulthood. How or what part Alastair from her vision played, she didn’t know. She only hoped her son didn’t descend into insanity as she had.

  “Go,” she mouthed to him.

  He shut his eyes tightly and teleported himself and Nathanial away.

  “What the bloody hell—!”

  “Our sons have saved each other, Mr. Thorne. You should do the same and teleport to safety. I won’t be taken today.” Isolde lifted her hands, and the wind picked up around them. The sturdy oaks bent and swayed under the force of her power. Fire flared to life in the stone urns bordering the garden, dancing up and outward, as it threatened those closest.

  The twelve remaining witches and warlocks surprised her when they parted and encircled her. She’d have thought they’d have run for the hills at her casual show of force.

  A warlock with light brown hair and a face similar to Nathanial’s captured her attention when he stepped forward. “We’re here to stop you, Aether.” Determination shone brightly in his jade-green eyes.

  “You can try, child. But between all of you, there isn’t enough magic to do so.”

  “Perhaps not, but she has plenty.”

  An atmospheric change occurred, and the air crackled around them. Blinding light flooded the garden just as the goddess appeared through a rift in space, followed by twelve of the most powerful witches of the Otherworld.

  Isis had arrived, and she didn’t look thrilled to be calling.

  Chapter 2

  Modern Day – North Carolina

  Vacation at last!

  Elizabeth Thorne stepped through the double doors of Thorne Industries and inhaled a deep, cleansing breath. The newest artifact her boss had been so all-fired to acquire was safely disposed of, and now, the family could rest easy for a bit. Surely, there weren’t that many more threats to their kind left out there, right? Fourteen days of relaxation—mixed with a few nights of margaritas and Karaoke—were just what the witch doctor ordered. She sniggered at her internal joke.

  With a spring in her step, she walked at a fast clip toward her Jeep. Just as she reached the vehicle door, an atmospheric change lifted the hair on her neck, the air around her becoming highly charged.

  Incoming!

  She whirled, ready to strike, but her hand was caught in a vice-like hold. Acting on instinct, she brought her knee up, only to have her balance threatened when she was released as quickly as she’d been detained.

  “You should be more careful, qalbi. Deserted parking lots aren’t safe for beautiful women such as yourself.”

  The grave expression on the man’s dignified face was his standard trademark whenever she saw him these days. But once upon a time, he’d relaxed enough to let his guard down. When he had, those dark, seductive eyes of his filled with sparkling mischief.

  “Rafe. I should have known.” She clicked the remote in her hand. “Other than you, no one would dare accost me on Thorne property. What are you doing here?”

  “Accost? You struck first.” He shrugged and answered her question. “I was in town. I thought perhaps I could persuade you to dine with me.”

  Goddess, she wanted to, but starting something with a man who had serious commitment issues and disappeared on a whim went against good sense. And she’d started a new relationship less than two months ago, so there was that. Although, to be honest, if she believed for one second Rafe wanted something more than a convenient lay, she’d toss old whatshisname over in a heartbeat. Not great girlfriend etiquette, but the heart wanted what the heart wanted. Hers wanted Rafe Xuereb. Had for nigh on four years. Damned Thorne curse.

  “Sorry. I have plans.” She cast him a cool, dismissive smile over her shoulder.

  “No, you don’t.”

  No, she didn’t, because her new boyfriend, Franklin, was out of town—again. But she’d be damned if she’d admit to being abandoned for the fifth time in as many weeks. He was the fourth guy in a year who seemed to find matters other than their budding relationship more important. She was beginning to develop a complex.

  Swinging open the door, she tossed her purse across the console to the passenger side.

  “Liz.”

  When he said her name in that soft, compelling way, her insides turned to liquid heat. She froze in place as if he’d cast a containment spell on her. He hadn’t. Rafe was far too noble and forthright to do anything dastardly. No, that was his appeal.

  “Don’t.”

  She closed her eyes against the remembered pain of the morning he’d left her. She’d believed they started something, and when she woke to find him gone after three days in her bed—no note, no message of any kind—she’d been devastated. Family legend held that Thornes only loved once. They tended to recognize their soulmates instantly and become completely enamored. It had been no different for Liz when she met Rafe that one sunny spring day in Paris.

 
“Qalbi, why won’t you talk to me and let me set the misunderstanding to rights?”

  Suddenly furious and tired of it all, she whirled to face him. “Misunderstanding? Rafe, you left me without bothering to say goodbye. Without bothering to leave a simple note with your phone number. How is that a misunderstanding?” She smacked his hand away when he would have touched her. “Look, I get it was a casual fling for you. I should’ve realized that from the start. But for me…” She trailed off and shook her head.

  He shifted closer, ducking his head to meet her eyes. “For you, what? Finish your thought, Liz. Tell me what it meant to you.”

  “Why? So you can laugh at my naiveté?” she snapped.

  “Never that.”

  “It doesn’t matter now. I’m seeing someone.”

  His mouth tightened into a thin white line. “He is a bastard and doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Regardless, I don’t cheat.”

  “I’m not suggesting you do.” He paused for a heartbeat or two. “You should break up with him.”

  Of all the arrogant—! “Why? Other than the fact he’s dating me, why do you hate him so much?”

  “Isn’t that enough?” He met her gaze with such intensity and directness she nearly gasped.

  “I don’t understand you, Rafe,” she managed from her suddenly parched throat. “You disappear for weeks—sometimes months—on end, doing Goddess knows what, and then return to say things like this. Please, stop. Franklin is good to me. He may even love me.” She couldn’t quite state the lie and say she loved him in return, but she was growing fond of him. A life could be built on that type of affection, right?

  Rafe’s face became an inscrutable mask. “Of course. I have no wish to disrupt your life. Good night, Liz. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Actually, I’m on vacation for the next two weeks.” She wasn’t quite certain why she felt the need to blurt the information. Possibly because her last true vacation was the one she’d taken to Paris. Or maybe she wanted to test him in some small way.

  The hot look in his eyes seared her. Seemed he, too, was remembering their time in France. Or rather, in the swanky hotel room in France. Once they’d met, they didn’t leave their suite.

  “Alone?” The timbre of his spine-tingling voice deepened. It set off all sorts of alarm bells in her head.

  “Franklin will eventually join me. Right now, he has business elsewhere.”

  “I’m sure he does.”

  Rafe’s contemplative gaze slowly ran the length of her body. She was positive he missed nothing and, like Superman, could see beneath her form-hugging pencil skirt and white button-down top. Or perhaps he was remembering her nude. Neither of them had been shy during their brief interlude as lovers.

  A flush started somewhere around her toes and worked its way up her neck. Her face started a slow burn—pretty much like her libido, which had been on a four-year hiatus unless Rafe was around. Ah, hell!

  His tongue swiped along the part in his lips, and Liz swallowed hard. It wasn’t an overtly sexual gesture on his part, not meant to be sleazy at all. It was more like an unconscious movement or muscle memory. An act he’d performed after kissing her most private areas, as if he wanted to taste her again.

  “Are you going somewhere… exciting?”

  She might have released a small meep, but if she did, they both purposefully ignored it. Wanting nothing more than to give him the exact location of her first stop so he could join her, she closed her eyes and shook her head.

  “That’s a shame, qalbi. You should have adventure in your life.”

  “I have adventure,” she sputtered. “Plenty of adventure. Every day is one big adventure.” Christ on a cracker, she was babbling!

  A slow, amused smile turned up the corners of his mouth and crinkled the olive-toned skin on the sides of those magnificent midnight-colored eyes. “I’m sure it is. The Human Resources department has to be thrilling most days,” he teased.

  Scowling, she whirled away.

  As Liz reached for the door handle of her Jeep, Rafe stepped to within inches of her back. She could feel his warm breath on her neck, and the sensitive skin at her nape raised with goosebumps.

  “Qalbi, I can show you all the excitement you’ll ever need. Just say the word, and I’m yours.”

  Paralyzed with want and a major case of indecision, Liz stood breathing like she’d just ran a mile, and she wasn’t a runner. Hated any type of exercise if the truth be told. Well, any but sex. That was her favorite form of workout. Thank the Goddess her magical genetics kept her in shape.

  The ringing of her smartphone jolted her out of the sensual spell Rafe had created. She dove headfirst into the vehicle to retrieve her cell.

  * * *

  Rafe released a low groan. Liz was bent over the driver’s side seat as she scrambled for her bag. It was at moments like these, with her perfect, round ass prominently displayed in this manner, he wished he could permit his inner neanderthal to take hold. He wouldn’t, because his father had raised him to be a gentleman, but oh, how he wanted to throw aside social niceties and claim this woman for his own.

  She’d been rejecting him in one form or another over the last year, right after she tracked him to Thorne Manor to deliver his dismissal papers from the Witches’ Council. He was at his wits’ end.

  She continued to cling to the excuse of a relationship with whatever guy she happened to be dating. Currently, that evil sonofabitch Franklin Moore. Rafe considered her relationships shams because she never truly committed to a single one. That would require more than the occasional dinner and end-of-date kiss. Liz’s frustration in that department would continue to grow because he happened to have placed a spell on old Franklin, and all of the men before him. Whenever she kissed one of her companions, the guy would suddenly remember he was needed elsewhere, leaving both parties supremely frustrated.

  “Franklin! Hi!”

  Her voice sounded too chipper for a guiltless woman.

  Rafe leaned back against the Jeep, crammed his hands in his front pockets, and waited.

  “What do you mean you can’t make it? At all? Why?”

  For a brief moment, Liz’s downcast expression triggered Rafe’s guilt. He’d found out from her cousin that Liz was planning a holiday. His intent hadn’t been to ruin her vacation, only to get Franklin the Weasel out of her life.

  “No, I get it. Are you sure you don’t have time… no… I understand.” She disconnected her call and stared morosely at the screen.

  “Everything okay?” Rafe knew it wasn’t. He’d dabbled in Franklin’s business affairs to make sure he fouled up any chance the guy could get away.

  “Nothing important.”

  He hated her defeated tone. Her sadness caused an answering pang in his own heart.

  “Liz…”

  “I’ve got to go. I need to pack.”

  “Pack? You’re a witch. You could conjure anything you might need.”

  “How will it look if I show up without a suitcase?” she snapped.

  He shifted closer and bent his knees to meet her furious eyes. “What do you care? The woman I knew—”

  “But I’m not the woman you knew. She’s long gone, if she even existed. I’m different now. More staid and predict—er, dependable.”

  Pressing his lips together to stem off a smile, he nodded. Yes, to a large degree, she was staid and predictable. Dependable, even. But she had the potential to be much, much more.

  “Those plans you had for dinner. Do they still stand?” he asked softly. “If not, I know a great Italian restaurant only two blocks from where I reside.”

  “Do you live close?”

  “Within a few minutes of you.”

  Her head came up, and she glared. “You know where I live?”

  “I’ve made it my business to learn everything there is to know about you, qalbi.”

  “That’s stalking, Rafe!”

  “You say tomato, I say tomahto.”

  “No
t funny.”

  He shook his head. “You need to learn to have fun again. You are much too uptight.”

  “Fine. I’ll go to dinner with you. I’ll show you exactly how fun I can be.”

  “That would be my fondest wish,” he said with feeling. “Care to drive? I teleported.”

  Liz’s teeth snapped together, and Rafe was sure he heard her molars grind against each other. Jerking her head toward the passenger side, she climbed behind the wheel.

  They drove in silence, and Rafe imagined he could hear the gears of her brain shifting from one topic to another at a rapid rate. Was she putting two and two together? He hadn’t been subtle about his machinations, but he wouldn’t care for Liz to be angry with him this soon in the game.

  “Make a left at the next light,” he directed. “It will be a quarter mile on the right-hand side. Calabresi’s.”

  “Oh, I love that place. I’ve only been one other time, with Nash.”

  Had Rafe not known Liz and her cousin were close, the soft smile she wore would’ve given it away. “How is he going to survive without your services at Thorne Industries while you’re on vacation?”

  “His IQ is off the charts. I have no doubt he’ll figure it out. Besides, he has Ryanne to help him if need be. She can run the entire world with one hand tied behind her back.”

  “She’s impressive.”

  “And taken,” she reminded him.

  Rafe fought a grin. “No one could be left in any doubt. Nash can’t keep his hands off her.”

  “They always think they’re being sly.” Liz’s light laugh shot straight to his groin. It was going to be a long night. He had to continually tell himself he was in it for the long haul and not for the sprint.

  Once they parked, he escorted her inside the restaurant. They were seated in an out-of-the-way area, overlooking the street. None of the outside noise filtered in, or if it did, it was drowned out by the overhead sound system that piped Italian love songs.

  The ambiance of this particular place reminded Rafe of his second home in Italy. He hadn’t been back in many months, and he was feeling a little homesick. While this part of America was beautiful, nothing beat his adopted country of Italy, or his father’s country of origin, Malta. He’d give almost anything to take Liz there and to see the sights through her eyes.