by T. M. Cromer
“I don’t know that I was in mourning, per se, but I wasn’t happy either. As far as taking you with me, I didn’t plan to be gone so long. I’m not sure if you noticed when we visited, but the château was falling into disrepair.”
“I did, but with all the other things going on…” She trailed off and shrugged.
“Right. So when I returned, I questioned Marguerite. Apparently, I was the heir to the estate, but all I inherited was a headache.”
“So you were taking care of business matters?”
“Yes, and seeing to the transfer of the property to my cousin, so she always has a home. Of course, we were also on a treasure hunt to find the artifacts Mother and Franco stole.”
She smiled softly and clasped his hand, lacing their fingers together. With a light tug, she led him back toward the restaurant. “You had a busy week. Now, I feel doubly bad.”
“You were the best part. All I knew was that I wanted to finish as quickly as possible to return to you.” He held the door open for her to enter. “I never wanted any more ugliness to touch you, and I felt dragging you with me to the estate would do that. You didn’t need reminders of how poorly Franco and my mother treated you.”
“None of it would’ve mattered as long as we were together, babe. This whole experience taught me as much.”
“Forgive me?”
“Only if you’ll forgive me.”
He grinned and lifted their joined hands to kiss the inside of her wrist. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
Gianni spotted them the second they stepped into the foyer. He held the takeout bags from earlier. “I thought you might be back for these.” After he handed them off, he turned to Liz. “You must be the fiancée I’ve heard so much about.” Gianni shot a wry look Rafe’s way. “I’ll admit, after she delivered that magnificent blow, I thought you might have lied about your engagement.”
Liz pulled a long gold chain from inside her shirt. It looped through the ruby engagement ring Rafe had given to her. “No lie. Just a simple misunderstanding on my part.”
“Good,” Gianni stated firmly. “There is no better man than Rafe Xuereb.”
“I quite agree,” she said, giving Rafe a soft look. “I said much the same thing not that long ago.”
“Good. Now, come. You’ll use my office.” Gianni winked. “I believe you will find my recipe book will come in handy tonight.”
Epilogue
One week later…
As Mackenzie Thorne traversed the pebbled paths of the Drakes’ garden, she turned her face to the sun. The beauty of the fine English day wasn’t lost on her. Unlike her small hometown back in the States, the weather here tended to be cooler, and at times, overcast. Because Sebastian had a last-minute phone call he needed to make, he’d encouraged her to entertain herself for a short while. Now, as she waited for Baz to join her for their picnic, she explored the estate’s extensive grounds.
“Beautiful,” she murmured to herself. “I could live here forever.”
At the end of a northbound walkway, tucked behind an overgrowth of trees and rose bushes, she discovered a dilapidated garden gate, with a handful of symbols carved into the wooden framework. The grass around the entrance had turned to a dingy yellow and was on the verge of dying.
Because the gate had an antiquated lock that required a skeleton key, Mack figured that she wasn’t getting in that way anytime soon. Her cousin Preston had taught her to pick locks for fun when she was a small child. But she hadn’t retained anything but the basics. As rusted as the keyhole looked, she doubted the mechanism inside could be moved without a barrel of lubricant.
“Well, hell.”
Stepping back, she eyed the height of the wall, judging it to be a good eight-feet tall. She could levitate, but if a non-magical human happened to be present and glancing out the window, they’d get a shock for sure. Of course, she could get around that with Granny Thorne’s cloaking spell, but then Baz wouldn’t find her. She grinned at the mental image of him walking right past her. What fun could be had lifting his kilt to discover what he did—or hopefully didn’t—wear underneath.
Her best plan to scale the wall was the oak tree on this side. It would allow Mack to look like a normal, everyday mortal—albeit a crazy one—climbing a tree should anyone happen upon her. Unfortunately, there were no low-hanging branches to grab onto. With a quick look around, she swirled her hands in the air and created a thick, rope-like vine to aid her.
“Perfect.”
As she wrapped her hand around the climber, a shiver of awareness teased along her skin. She almost backed away, but when no immediate vision of the future appeared to her, she shrugged off her unease. In mere seconds, she was at the top of the wall, peering over.
The sight filled her with sickening dread. The other side of the garden wall was nothing but a wasteland of dead foliage. Any grass had long-since shriveled and died, and the remains of trees were blackened and bare. It was as if a fire had swept through, and she’d have believed it to be so if it weren’t for a single rose bush flourishing at the center of the deadened ground.
The bush was no more than three-feet high, but it had runners along the ground in every direction. Long, fat vines unlike any rose bush she’d ever seen. But it was the sight of the roses themselves that chilled her. They were a black so void of light, they looked like mini black holes dotting the landscape.
She shifted her grip on the wall slightly and peeked over the edge, straight down. Even as she watched, the runners grew in length and started climbing the brick wall faster than Mack would’ve thought possible without magical intervention. The thorns were at least three inches in length. The tips looked wicked and threatening.
She knew she was being fanciful, but so much death and darkness was off-putting.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” boomed a furious voice from below her.
Mack almost lost her grip on the wall and wet her pants from fright. She’d have grabbed her pounding heart if her position wasn’t so precarious.
“Dear Goddess, Baz! You nearly gave me heart failure.” She peered down at him, and in doing so, missed the fact the rose runner had reached the top of the wall.
“Mack, look out!”
She whipped her head around in time to see the vine poised to shove one of those three-inch spikes directly into her neck. Throwing up a hand to protect herself, she deflected the plant’s trajectory, but not without injury to herself. Her palm now sported a deep gash, and blood flowed freely, dripping down the garden-side of the wall.
The rose bush apparently wasn’t done with its attack on her person, and coiled up, arching like a viper ready to strike.
“Let go, Mack. I’ll catch you,” Sebastian shouted up. “Now!”
As the vine came at her a second time, Mack released her hold on the wall, calling her air element to her to slow her descent and not be such a burden to Baz when he caught her. She was exceedingly glad when the wind kicked up. Only a few weeks ago, her magic had been on the fritz. Even with the air as a cushion, Sebastian grunted at the impact.
He stood her on her feet and gave her a single, hard shake. “That garden is forbidden, Mackenzie. Do you hear me? Forbidden.”
Never had she witnessed such a strong reaction in another person, and she’d seen everything from fear to fury to murderous rage. Where his strong emotion came from was anyone’s guess. “I’m sorry, Baz.”
“You don’t understand the dangers it holds.” The fingers gripping her shoulders dug in on the word “dangers.”
“Baz, please calm down.” Although she could’ve easily broken his hold with magical force, she realized he needed the physical contact. Not to intimidate, but to intimate. To stress the importance of his worry.
She stroked his exposed wrist. “Please.”
As if he’d woken from a dream, his wide-eyed gaze locked onto where his hands clutched her. His chin jerked as if that sight shocked him. One by one, Sebastian’s fingers loosened. “I’m sorry,
Mack. Please forgive me.”
“There’s no need. We both got a scare.”
“Every time I turn my back, you find something to get into.” The heavy irritation in his voice was based on his concern for her safety—Mack was wise enough to recognize that much.
“I like to explore. It’s one of life’s little pleasures.”
He lifted her hand to examine the wound. “And this?” he asked dryly. “Is this one of your life’s little pleasures?”
“Comes with the territory,” she teased.
The sight of his pale face as he stared down at the scratch gave Mack a little pang of conscience. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, Baz. I’m truly sorry.”
He met her steady gaze, and in his dark, soulful eyes, she saw worry.
“Baz? What is it?”
Glancing up toward the top of the wall, he grimaced. “We shouldn’t be here.”
“What is this place?”
“The garden of death.”
“That’s terrifying,” she quipped, only half-joking. With a look back at the gate, she noticed the pale glow of the symbols. “Um, Baz?” She pointed. “Has that ever happened before?”
“Fucking hell!”
On the other side of the wall, the blood from its victim trailed down the considerable length of the rose climber. When it got to the ground, the liquid re-formed into droplets and ran toward the base of the bush, picking up speed as it neared the center of the garden. From there, it was sucked into the roots and converged to tunnel through the poisoned soil until it connected with the six-by-three, Carrara marble casket located ten feet below the ground’s surface.
The earth rumbled at the receipt of the nutrient it so craved—magic!
In the cold interior of her coffin, the Enchantress rested in a forced stasis. But the moment the blood drops fell upon the sigil etched into the stone lid, she opened her obsidian eyes, waking from her one-hundred-ninety-two-year slumber.
BOOK 10: Awakened after nearly two hundred years in a marble prison, Isolde de Thorne has decided Mackenzie is the perfect vessel for her needs. Click here to order Enchanted Magic.
From the Author…
Thank you for taking the time to read MOONLIT MAGIC!
Be sure to join my mailing list for news on current releases, potential sales, new-to-you author introductions, and contests each month. But if it gets to be too much, you can unsubscribe at any time. Your information will always be kept private. No spam here!
Join my Facebook Reader Group. While the standard pages and profiles on Facebook are not always the most reliable, I have created a group for fans who like to interact. This group entitles readers to "fan page only" contests, as well as an exclusive first look at covers, excerpts and more. Cromer’s Carousers is the most fun way to follow yet! I hope to see you there!
Also by T.M. Cromer
Books in The Thorne Witches Series:
SUMMER MAGIC
AUTUMN MAGIC
WINTER MAGIC
SPRING MAGIC
REKINDLED MAGIC
LONG LOST MAGIC
FOREVER MAGIC
ESSENTIAL MAGIC
MOONLIT MAGIC
ENCHANTED MAGIC (Preorder)
CELESTIAL MAGIC (Coming Soon)
* * *
Books in The Holt Family Series:
FINDING YOU
THIS TIME YOU (Preorder)
INCLUDING YOU (Coming Soon)
* * *
Books in The Stonebrooke Series:
BURNING RESOLUTION
THE TROUBLE WITH LUST
THE BAKERY
EASTER DELIGHTS
HOLIDAY HEART
Books in The Fiore Vineyard Series:
PICTURE THIS
RETURN HOME
ONE WISH
