by T. M. Cromer
“A connecting door should be sufficient.” He winced when Liz socked his shoulder. Who knew such a tiny woman packed that type of punch? “What? I want to be there should you need assistance…” He dropped his voice for her ears alone. “…in any capacity.”
She lightly pinched his side, and he grinned. Yes, she was warming to him. Liz tended to get touchy, both in affection and in aggression, whenever her emotions ran high. He adored that about her. Of what concern was the occasional shoulder shove when her loving touch was so sublime?
He sobered, and his emotions swung to the dark side. The question was whether Liz would put aside past hurts and her pretense of boyfriends to give him a second chance or whether she would continue to keep him at arm’s length for fear of betrayal?
“I should call Franklin to let him know what’s happening,” she said. “He’ll want to know.”
Rafe nearly blurted a derisive response. Forcing a calm he didn’t feel, he asked, “What do you gain by sharing this matter with him? How will he be affected at the moment?”
“Excuse me? You don’t think, as my boyfriend, Franklin would want to know what is happening in my life?” With each word, the volume and pitch of her voice rose. “Just because you cut and run, doesn’t mean he will.”
“I see.” And he did. Liz had clearly answered the question as to whether she would continue to cling to past hurts. “You may wish to hold off relaying the Thornes’ immediate circumstances until you are more sure of your current paramour, Liz. Not everyone has your best interests at heart.”
Suspicion clouded her lovely eyes.
Rafe imagined her misgivings were about his motives and not Franklin’s. With a deep sigh, he rose and crossed to a wall of windows to stare out at the stunning landscape. For the better part of a year, he’d been trying to get back into Liz’s good graces. Most days, he wondered if he was fighting a losing battle. Rarely did she spare him a passing glance.
He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck in an attempt to ease his tension. He was feeling every one of his seventy-two years. Yes, he was older than Liz by nearly three decades, but in the whole scheme of things, age never mattered between witches and warlocks. Magical genetics meant a slowdown of aging. Physically, he looked and felt thirty-five. Mentally? Well, at this moment in time, he felt ancient.
“If you know something about Franklin, I wish you’d share it with me, Rafe.”
He shifted to stare down into her worried eyes. They’d darkened to a golden-brown due to her turbulent emotions. The changing of irises was a witch’s tell. Right now, hers revealed a lot.
“You wish so badly to be close to another person, you sometimes forget they aren’t worthy of your time, Liz,” he said softly. “I have no facts to provide to you at the moment, only a feeling. Perhaps my experience urges caution in matters such as these, but I would not be as trusting as you.”
He turned on his heel and exited the room with a nod of acknowledgment to Aurora.
Chapter 4
“Why are you determined to shove Rafe away?”
Liz twisted slightly to address Ryanne. They stood roughly the same height, but where Liz’s figure was more svelte and sporty, Ryanne’s was pin-up worthy. She had curves for days and knew how to use them. More recently, Ryanne had added amethyst highlights to her dark hair. With the shoulder-length bob, it gave her a chic, modern vibe. It always amazed Liz her friend was so down-to-earth and caring. She’d grown up without magic but still could’ve used her looks to rule the world.
“I’m not,” Liz denied with a shake of her head.
Ryanne snorted and rolled her eyes as only a good friend could. “You certainly fooled me.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Liz turned to stare out the window Rafe had been staring out of moments before. The summer sun had set, and the beauty that had framed his tall, muscular figure earlier was now gone. Nothing but inky blackness stared back at her.
“Well, we damned well are going to talk about it. You basically told me to get my head out of my ass when it came to Nash, and now I’m telling you the same about Rafe.” Ryanne placed a hand on Liz’s upper back and rubbed small circles. “He’s crazy about you, Liz. You’re the only one who refuses to see it.”
“I can’t trust him.”
“Bull. Try again.”
Aurora’s reflection showed in the glass an instant before she added her two cents to this ridiculous conversation. “She doesn’t trust herself.”
Both Liz and Ryanne faced her with a soft gasp.
A gentle, understanding smile graced Aurora’s face, lending to her delicate English beauty. “When I first awoke from my stasis, I pushed Alastair away. Because of his solicitous, reserved manner, I also believed he only cared for me out of obligation. As if I were a burden to him and everyone around me.” She ducked slightly to make the two of them eye level. “I don’t imagine it’s much different for you, is it, child? Rafe left for business purposes and lost contact. Now you are trying to convince yourself he only wants to reconnect with you for convenience’s sake because you are afraid to care for him again. If he leaves a second time, it will devastate you.”
Tears threatened, but Liz ruthlessly suppressed them. “I don’t love Rafe. We had a brief fling four years ago. It was nothing,” she lied. Perhaps if she repeated it to herself enough, she’d eventually believe it.
“It wasn’t ‘nothing’ if the longing gazes he sends your way are any indication. You’re fooling yourself if you believe otherwise, dear girl.” When Liz would have protested, Aurora held up a hand. “We won’t badger you, but do keep your eyes and mind open. I think you may eventually see what the rest of us do. Now come. Let me show you to your room so you may freshen up.”
Liz followed her hostess in silence. If she could teleport, she’d be thousands of miles away. Remaining in close proximity to Rafe for an extended length of time wasn’t good for her head nor her heart. No, he had only to look at her with that wicked twinkle in his midnight eyes—the one that said he’d seen her naked and wanted to again—and she turned to mush. It was too easy to recall the way he’d touched her as if she were the only woman on the earth who made him burn—just as he made her burn.
Aurora paused inside the door of Liz’s room. “There are fresh linens on the bed. The bathroom is through there. I’m afraid you’ll have to share the en suite with Rafe, but you can work out an arrangement to use the shower or bath. Each room has its own toilet and sink.”
“Would it be too much trouble to get a different room?”
“I’m afraid it would. The rest of the family will be arriving shortly. Alastair feels it’s for the best if we all reside under one roof until this issue is resolved. The other rooms allow a little more privacy for my children and their spouses.” She squeezed Liz’s hand. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s perfectly fine. It’s only for a few days, I’m sure.”
“Precisely.”
As her hostess glided toward the door, Liz called to her. “Aurora?”
“Yes, dear?”
“How did you let go of the past to trust again?”
A soft light entered Aurora’s sky-blue eyes. “Who could resist Alastair Thorne? Not me.” She smiled, and the beauty of it was breathtaking. “Never me.”
Alastair was a force to be reckoned with, his charm and power legendary in the witch community and beyond. The air of danger surrounding him was like nectar to hummingbirds, and he fascinated the women who entered his sphere.
Just like Rafe.
Perhaps it was why she’d asked Aurora in the first place. The similarity between the men was great.
“Will you wake me when the rest of the family arrives?”
“Of course. Rest now, dear. It will be all right.”
Rafe entered Liz’s room with the intention of waking her to join her family’s discussion about the diminishing of the group’s magic. When he saw her curled up on the mattress, lost to her slumber, his heart hiccuped in his chest. T
he last time he’d seen her so relaxed and peaceful was their final morning in Paris—the morning he walked away.
He wanted nothing more than to take them back to that day. To crawl into bed with her and never leave her side. But he didn’t possess the powers of a Traveler witch, so time travel was out of his hands.
He squatted by the bed and touched her shoulder. “Liz? It’s time to wake up, qalbi.”
“Rafe,” she murmured on a sigh. He caught his breath when she blinked and blessed him with a luminous, happy smile. She reached a hand toward him, but immediately dropped it and glanced around with a frown. “What are you doing in my room?” All the sleepy sexiness was gone, and in its place was suspicion.
“Nothing sinister, I assure you,” he said dryly. “Aurora sent me to wake you. The rest of your family has arrived.”
“Oh.”
She looked confused and more than a little embarrassed.
“I’ll wait for you in the hallway,” he said gently.
“Rafe?”
He faced her from the doorway.
“I didn’t mean to insinuate you were up to no good,” she assured him. “I was simply surprised to see you in my room.”
He nodded his understanding and left.
Liz joined him a few minutes later, and they walked to the dining room in silence. Before they entered, she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. You’ve been nothing but helpful to us. To me.” She grimaced. “I’m screwing this up. What I’m trying to say is that you could leave at any time if you want to. This isn’t your problem.”
Once again, she’d hammered at his honor and integrity. The desire to rail at her was strong, but he bit back his sharp retort and mentally counted to ten. When he could speak without giving away his anger, he said, “I could leave, yes. But I won’t leave you or your family defenseless against an attack.” He waved his hand toward the door. “After you.”
“Rafe—”
“Liz, if it makes you feel better, tell yourself I’m doing this for Winnie and Zane. I owe them for saving my life. Now, I believe we’ve delayed enough.” For once, he did away with his ingrained manners and entered a room first, leaving her to find her own way to the table. If he spent another second in her presence, he might strangle the stubborn wretch.
The only remaining empty seats were right next to each other, and Rafe wanted to teleport home so he didn’t have to be tortured by the subtle scent of Liz’s perfume as he sat through the discussion. He changed his trajectory to the sideboard for a cup of coffee then propped a shoulder against the closest wall. It still allowed him to take part, but kept a good distance between him and the woman determined to torment him with her indifference for the remainder of his days.
“You’re welcome to join us,” Alastair gestured to the chair next to Liz.
“I’m good standing,” he said.
The knowing glance from Alastair set Rafe’s teeth on edge. In order to hold his tongue, he sipped his coffee.
“Right. Let’s get to it, shall we?” Alastair tilted his chin toward Nash. “My son phoned early this evening to tell me he’d experienced a disruption in his magic.”
“As you all now know, it isn’t just me who’s been targeted,” Nash added. A deep frown tugged his dark blond brows together, and concern was evident in his jade eyes. “What we don’t know is who or what may be behind this magical blackout. Isis had no news to impart other than a fun little riddle and to say a greater evil is rising. One we’ve not encountered before.”
“Currently, this appears to be an attack on our family. Ryanne, Quentin, the Carlyles, Ryker, and Aurora have all retained their power. Because of this, if you are a Thorne by blood, it’s imperative you stick with your significant other as a safety precaution until this is resolved. Rorie and I have opened our home to all of you. My security team won’t allow anyone through the main doors.” Alastair focused on Liz. “As a favor to me, I’d like you to keep Rafe by your side, child. He’s intelligent and powerful with plenty of experience. He’ll keep you safe.”
Liz cast Rafe a sideways glance. She opened her mouth in what he assumed would be a protest.
Unable to withstand another rejection, he shook his head and offered up a rueful grin. “I’m afraid my company is too much for Liz, Alastair. I’m sure she’ll be safe under your care while I search out who might be behind this attack.”
“Don’t presume to know what’s best for me, Rafe,” Liz snapped.
“Are you trying to say you want me to play bodyguard?”
The flush on her cheeks darkened, but she didn’t look away. Rafe’s heart picked up speed, and he straightened from the wall.
“I’m simply saying don’t presume. I’ll do what’s best for the good of the whole,” she stated primly.
“Of course, qalbi, you know it all and are wise beyond your years.”
It was doubtful anyone missed his sarcasm. Liz, for sure, didn’t. The tightening of her lips spoke of her pique.
“Liz.” Although Alastair spoke softly, he commanded attention. “Please call your mother, brothers, and any other family members like Piper, who you may have a number for. Have them come here or get to the closest Thorne stronghold. I can provide three locations for their use.”
She nodded, took his written list, and left the room.
Rafe fought the urge to race after her. He hated to leave her virtually powerless and vulnerable for one second of one hour of one day. Across the distance, he met Alastair’s contemplative sapphire gaze.
“You must have some suspicions, Alastair. In the forty years I’ve known you, you’ve always had your pulse on what’s happening in the magical community, even if you were on the outside in most cases.” Rafe sipped his coffee then carefully set the cup in the saucer. “So tell me. Where do you believe this is stemming from?”
Alastair was the Thorne family patriarch. He was easily one of the most crafty warlocks in existence. There was only one other who had even a remote chance of going head-to-head with him—Damian Dethridge, also known as the Aether. No one else held the power to neutralize an entire family of witches.
Alastair narrowed his eyes and stared off into the distance. Clearly, he had his suspicions but was hesitant to voice them. Rafe was curious as to why he’d be so reserved when it came to the group as a whole. He had never been before.
“What constitutes a great evil? A person? A group like the Désorcelers? It’s impossible to tell. If our magic was functioning properly, we could scry, I suppose. Currently, we are blind.”
“I could be your eyes. Tell me what you wish me to do.”
“First, we should make a list of potential enemies,” Alastair said.
Autumn Thorne-Carlyle snorted. “That will take weeks, Uncle. And Goddess knows we’ll likely miss fifty or so.”
Rafe fought a grin. “Is there a prize for the family member who disgruntles the most people?”
“If there is, Uncle Alastair would win hands down,” Winnie inserted with a cheeky grin at her uncle.
The dry look he shot his niece caused those seated to laugh. “If we never regain our powers, the lot of you could open a comedy club.” He addressed Rafe. “The Champeau family might be one we should watch. I know you’ve had dealings with them in the past. Would you be willing to see what you might find?”
“Of course.” Rafe’s lower back began to sweat and feel sticky. He imagined Alastair knew the exact moment his nerves kicked in. Rumor had it, he had the ability to discern emotions through an empathic gift. Since Rafe had witnessed Nash utilize the same ability, it wasn’t hard to imagine his father had passed it down through his bloodline.
Although Alastair narrowed his eyes on Rafe, he held his tongue. There was no doubt he was being toyed with, but he’d be damned if he gave himself away.
“Why did you mention Champeau, brother?” GiGi Thorne-Gillespie shot a concerned look toward her husband, Ryker. “I thought my darling husband made peace with Marguerite months ago.”
&n
bsp; Marguerite Champeau had visited Ryker during the time he was incarcerated by the Witches’ Council to lay their quarrel to rest. To say there had been bad blood between the two was to put it lightly. Ryker, as an agent for the Council, had been tasked with seducing Marguerite and stealing important documents. The only things he received for his trouble had been a poisoned bullet to the gut and an estranged wife.
Marguerite also happened to be cousin to Franco Moreau, aka Franklin Moore, aka Liz Thorne’s current beau.
“Simply a feeling, GiGi,” Alastair replied to his sister’s question. “Nothing more.”
But Rafe wasn’t so easily convinced Alastair was going off a “feeling.” The warlock was as wily as they came.
Chapter 5
“Rafe, do you have a moment?”
Although his desire to escape was strong, Rafe waited for Alastair to catch up to him.
“Join me in my study for a drink, won’t you?”
“How can I refuse?” he asked dryly.
Alastair chuckled as he clapped him on the back. “You can’t.”
When they were ensconced in the study, each with a tumbler of scotch in hand, Alastair got to the point. “I don’t trust Franklin Moore.”
“Join the club.”
“I suspected as much. You already know he has shady business dealings both in and outside of the witch community?” At Rafe’s nod, Alastair grimaced. “How long have you been watching him?”
“Since the first time he came in contact with Liz.”
“You love her?”
The question threw Rafe. It shouldn’t have, because the Almighty Alastair knew all, but still he hadn’t been prepared for so blunt a query. “I do.”
“Why don’t you simply tell her? She’d dump that worthless excuse for a man in a second.”
“No, she wouldn’t. It would make winning her heart even more difficult because she wouldn’t believe me.” Rafe gave him a half-smile and took a sip of his drink.
