Autumn Magic

Home > Other > Autumn Magic > Page 7
Autumn Magic Page 7

by T. M. Cromer


  “Then why would Alastair even need the Chintamani Stone if he could get his hands on the amulet?” Autumn asked.

  “Knox, would you like to field that one?” Spring asked with a saccharine-infused sweetness in her smile.

  “But you’re doing so well,” he replied with an equally false smile.

  “If you insist.” She addressed the room and said, “Based on a conversation I happened to overhear between our father and Knox—”

  Knox scoffed. “Happened to overhear? You mean spied on. But do continue.”

  Spring shot him the glare of death. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, based on a conversation between Knox and Dad, the spell they believe Alastair intends to use requires four artifacts. The Chintamani Stone, the Mjölnir amulet, an Egyptian Uterine amulet that contains similar runes to the Mjölnir amulet, and an ancient Greek scroll last known to be in da Vinci’s possession.” She twisted to look at Knox. “Oh, and just why were you meeting with my father in the first place?”

  “None of your damned business,” he retorted.

  “You must like the taste of dirt,” she snapped.

  “In essence, you’re saying going after these items is a wild goose chase,” Quentin stated in disgust, preventing World War III from erupting in the Thorne living room.

  “Pretty much,” Knox confirmed.

  Summer leaned forward and set her cup down. “We did suspect the other items were needed, but why hasn’t Alastair mentioned these other things to us?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps he feels his magic is strong enough to pull off a healing with just the Chintamani Stone. Or it could be that he already has the other three objects. There’s really no way to know unless you ask him.” Knox shrugged and finished off the last of his coffee. “On that note, I have to run, but you have my number if you need me.” He leaned in and kissed Autumn’s cheek. “Safe travels.”

  Chapter 8

  Summer rounded on Autumn in disbelief. “You agreed to let Keaton go to China with you?”

  The door had just closed behind the last of the Carlyle men, and Quentin had wandered off into the kitchen to scavenge for food.

  “Shhh! They haven’t left yet,” Autumn hissed.

  Spring shot back the peephole to watch. The sound of slamming doors preceded her signal for the all clear. “Spill,” she said.

  “Y’all are making more of it than there is,” Autumn hedged.

  “I’mma call bullshit on that one,” Spring laughed. “I saw you kissing in the kitchen.”

  “What?” Summer practically screeched. “You were kissing Keaton.”

  Face flaming, Autumn headed down the hall. “I don’t answer to any of you.”

  Like a gaggle of ducks, the sisters fell in line behind her.

  “Was it as good as you remember?” Winnie asked dreamily.

  “It sure as hell looked like it,” Spring volunteered with a short laugh.

  “Is this wise?” Summer ran to catch up.

  Autumn stopped short, and one by one, her sisters crashed into one another. “Enough!”

  She spun to face the group and moderated her tone. “Enough. Yes, I kissed Keaton. More than once. Yes, it was as good as I remember. Better. No, it isn’t wise, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.” She heaved a heavy sigh. “And before anyone else asks, I’m not ready to start something again. I’m only having dinner with him tomorrow night. If it goes south, then I’ll rethink taking him to China. Happy?”

  Their expressions ranged from concerned to cynical to delighted. Autumn ignored them all. “Can we please clean the living room and get ready for our pedicures. I’ll call Dixie and see if we can book the entire salon for late afternoon. Does that work for everyone?”

  A chorus of “yes” answered her.

  “Good. Winnie, can you fill in and train Coop and Chloe while I’m gone?”

  “Yep.”

  “Perfect. Any other questions?” Autumn asked.

  No one answered, and she followed the sightline of their gazes to the kitchen. Quentin stood shirtless scrubbing dishes.

  “Holy shit!” she breathed. “How is it possible for one man to be so perfect?”

  “He’s hardly perfect,” Holly snapped. “Put your eyes back into your heads and roll up your tongues, ladies.”

  “Sorry.” Autumn gave her a one-armed hug. “I realize you must get women lusting over your man a lot.”

  “He’s not my man!”

  “Riiiiiight. You’re a Thorne, hon. You’ll only love once. Might as well make it a good one.”

  “I was already in love,” Holly reminded her. “It’s a crock of shit.” She sneezed, and within seconds, the squawking of birds could be heard outside the windows.

  Mr. Black, Spring’s raven familiar, glided down the stairs and landed on the railing with a caw.

  Quentin charged into the hallway with a wicked-looking blade in hand. “What’s going on? Who upset you?”

  “Who says I’m upset?” Holly demanded irritably.

  “The Alfred Hitchcock scene outside the window,” he laughed and lowered his knife. “The birds only come when you swear. You only swear when you are extremely upset. So, I ask again, my love, who has you upset? I will sever his head from his body.”

  Summer meeped.

  All eyes turned to her.

  “I can’t help it. It’s so romantic,” she said.

  “You call it romantic. I call it overdramatic,” Holly retorted.

  “You should just give in and bang nasties with him,” Winnie suggested with a dopey grin. “Then you can tell us how amazing he is. We won’t have to wonder anymore.”

  “What is wrong with you people? You’re a bunch of sex-starved bitches!” Holly raged, sneezed, and disappeared into thin air. The sound of birds pecking the living room window was ignored by all.

  “Think we pissed her off by teasing her about you-know-who?” Summer asked.

  All eyes turned to Quentin who lounged in the doorway.

  “You ladies are a sight to behold,” he said with an appreciative sigh. “But alas, I need to follow my prickly pear.”

  “Let us know what we can do to help wear her down.” Autumn eyed his beautiful bare chest. “And feel free to clean our kitchen shirtless any time the urge strikes.”

  Heat stole into his cheeks as he glanced down. “Sorry, I didn’t want to get my shirt dirty.”

  “I get the feeling he isn’t as much of a playboy as he’d like people to believe,” Autumn said after he’d left.

  “I agree. I think he does it to piss off Holly,” Summer said. “Doesn’t mean we can’t have fun with it. He keeps our guys on their toes.”

  “Our guys?” Spring asked. “Keaton and Coop maybe. But Winnie and I don’t have ‘guys’ yet.”

  “Knox isn’t your guy?” Autumn teased.

  “Not hardly. He’s an insufferable bore.”

  Autumn, Summer, and Winnie burst into laughter.

  “Yeah, keep telling yourself that, sister. Maybe one day you’ll believe it.” Autumn kissed Spring on her pink cheek. “Word of advice? Start behaving as if you don’t care. Maybe go out with someone else on occasion. It will drive him insane and bring him running.”

  “I don’t play games,” Spring said. Her chin lifted at a proud angle. “If he doesn’t want me, fine. But I’m not going to be like all the other women in town.”

  Autumn urged Summer and Winnie to leave then faced Spring. “Time for the hard truth. You’ve spent the better part of the last six years displaying your wares for him—just like the women of this town.” She smoothed back Spring’s dark-brown hair. “You’re classier than that, sister. Knock it off.”

  Tears clouded her sister’s wide green eyes. “His light is amazing. Something in me craves it.”

  “I know. I also know you are the most beautiful woman on the face of this green earth. You could own the world if you wished. But making yourself readily available to a man who can have any woman he wants is not the ans
wer. Like all contrary men, he’ll want what he has to work for.”

  Autumn wiped away the tears from Spring’s pale, smooth cheeks. “In the meantime, buy a vibrator. It’s worked for me for years.”

  “I… it’s that… I never…” The fiery blush spread from Spring’s neck to her hairline.

  The realization hit. Autumn’s mouth could catch flies, it opened so wide. “You’re a virgin?”

  “Shhh!”

  “But you’re twenty-five! No one is a virgin that late in life.”

  “Why don’t you take out a page in the Williamson Herald while you’re at it!” Spring snapped, referring to the local Leiper’s Fork newspaper.

  “Gurrllll! We need to do something about that. No wonder you’re so testy lately. You should’ve lost that shit a long time ago.”

  “Well, I didn’t have a willing participant like you and some of our other sisters,” Spring said nastily.

  “Oh, stop. You could snap your fingers and have any man ready to do the deed,” Autumn said impatiently. “And you should. Get rid of that hindrance and get some experience. That way, when you finally hook up with The One, you have something to compare to.”

  Her sister gazed at her thoughtfully. “You think I should?”

  “I do. Saving it for a man who may never want you is a great waste.”

  Spring nodded slowly. “I think you’re right. What about Deputy Aimes?”

  “Eww, no. He was with Carol Anne Connor, and she gave him herpes.”

  “How do you know these things?” Spring inquired.

  “I know everything about this rinky-dink town. It’s a curse and a blessing,” Autumn smirked. “Make me a list of hot guys you find sexy. I’ll help you screen them.”

  “You do know witches can’t contract those types of diseases, right?” her sister reminded her.

  “I know that, but the thought still makes me cringe inside. Didn’t I just say he was with Carol Anne?” Autumn mock shuddered.

  Keaton shuffled the papers on his desk and stared at the print. Nothing penetrated his brain. His mind was occupied with thoughts of Autumn and all that had transpired today: the earth-shattering kisses, her acceptance of his dinner invitation, her offer to take Chloe for pedicures, and her acknowledgment that he might be the best candidate to go to China with her.

  He smiled as he recalled the flashes of the girl he remembered. The teasing light had been back in her eyes. It made him heart-happy to witness the change since a huge part of him believed her unhappiness lay at his door.

  A faint knock caught his attention. “Come in.”

  Chloe’s tear-stained face appeared around the door.

  Keaton surged to his feet and closed the distance between them. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Are you hurt?”

  “No, Daddy.” She lifted her arms for him to scoop her up.

  “Why are you crying, Chloe? Did someone hurt your feelings?”

  “Mama called me and said I can’t go to get pedicures today,” she sobbed into his shoulder.

  He held her tight and rocked her at the same time he rubbed her back. “I’m not sure how she found out, but it’s not up to your mother. You are in my care this weekend, and I say you can go.”

  She pulled back, all crying ceased. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Her large, solemn eyes filled again. “But she’ll be mad.”

  “She’ll get over it,” he assured her.

  Chloe bit her lip and ducked her head.

  “What aren’t you telling me, Chloe?”

  “Nothing,” she mumbled.

  “Lying to me is not a good thing, sweetheart. You know that right? I can’t help you if you lie.”

  Her little chest expanded and contracted as sobs wracked her body.

  Keaton held her close and let her cry. With the feeling of helplessness came anger. It was well past time for him and Diane to have a sit down over her behavior toward their daughter. But in the meantime, he had to get to the root of Chloe’s tears.

  After her sobs calmed to sniffles, he carried her to the kitchen and sat her on the granite countertop by the sink.

  The deep-seated knowledge settled in his chest that he wasn’t going to like the truth. He tried to maintain a neutral expression for Chloe’s sake.

  He grabbed a clean dishtowel from the cabinet and ran it under cool water. After wringing out the excess water, he patted her swollen eyes then followed it up with a kiss of each lid.

  “Feel better?”

  She shrugged her shoulders, and the gesture was so like Autumn, he felt a pang in the region of his heart.

  “Chloe, I’m going to ask you something, and I need the God’s honest truth from you. Okay?”

  She nodded, expression glum.

  “Has your mother ever hurt you?”

  Her lip quivered, and her eyes dropped to her purple-sequined tennis shoes.

  “Chloe. Look at me.”

  She refused and shook her head emphatically.

  It was obvious that something was seriously wrong, but he’d be damned if he knew how to get the truth from her.

  “How old are you, Chloe?”

  Her head whipped up, and the frown on her face was priceless. “You know I’m eight and a half.”

  “That’s right. And would you say you’re a big girl now?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I agree.” He dropped a kiss on her nose and placed a finger under her chin to keep her gaze on his. “But big girls don’t tell lies. They tell the truth when asked regardless of the consequences. That’s what it means to be grown up.”

  “I’m afraid, Daddy.” The catch in her voice slayed him.

  A lump formed in his throat. Keaton had to compress his lips between his teeth to bite back a curse. Trying to remain calm, he took several deep breaths.

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “She’ll hit me again.”

  He closed his eyes. There it was. He knew the truth when he heard it. Black rage boiled in his veins. How long had Diane been abusing his daughter, and how the hell had he not known?

  It took superhuman effort to remain calm and reassuring when what he really wanted was to hunt Diane down and kill her. “Wait here, baby. I need to get Uncle Coop, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Keaton strode to the pool deck and let loose a whistle. Both Coop and Knox waved from where they stood talking by the barn. He gestured them to come. As they headed toward the house, he returned to the kitchen and set his phone on the counter for her to play a game.

  “Give me one more second, sweetheart.” He patted her knee and went back outside to catch Coop before he entered the house.

  “What’s going on, man?”

  “I think Diane’s been abusing Chloe, C.C. I need you to help me figure out the truth.” A crackle of energy rippled through the air. “What the hell was that?” Keaton asked.

  Knox scrubbed his hands over his face. “Sorry. Abuse is my trigger.”

  Keaton never knew the details of why their cousin came to live with them when he was younger, but he’d long suspected Knox hadn’t had a happy start to life. He was too quiet and controlled. “I’m sorry, Knox,” he said in a low voice. “I didn’t know.”

  “How could you?” Knox shrugged off the topic with a bitter smile. “The past is the past. Let’s figure out what’s going on with Chloe.”

  “How do we go about this? C.C., you’re the Sheriff. Is there some sort of protocol?”

  “Let’s talk to her first. What she views as punishment could vary from what an adult thinks.”

  The three men entered the kitchen, and Keaton experienced another pang.

  Chloe looked small and fragile seated there on the counter. Her legs swung back and forth in her nervousness. But his little girl was made of tougher stuff.

  “Hey, midget,” Coop said by way of greeting. “I have a few questions for you. Are you up to answering them?”

  “Will my mom get in trouble?” Fear caused her voic
e to crack.

  “Here’s the thing, midge; if your mom has hurt you, she needs to get help, and you need to be taken away from her care until she does.”

  Fat teardrops spilled over her lids and tracked down her pale cheeks. “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

  “Well, we have a problem here, midge, because I can’t let you go back to a house where I think you might be getting smacked around.”

  Coop’s hard tone triggered Keaton’s protective instinct. He’d only taken one step forward before Knox blocked his path.

  “Keaton, wait,” he urged in a low, quiet tone. “He knows what he’s doing.”

  Coop shot him a warning glance. “I’m talking to you as the Sheriff now, Chloe. I’m going to ask you some questions and record your answers. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, and her lower lip trembled where it stuck out.

  “Good. Do you want your dad to stay in the room?”

  She nodded again.

  “Okay. Let’s begin…” Coop pulled out his phone and set it to record.

  It only took ten minutes to determine Diane had indeed gone beyond the bounds of standard punishments when displeased with Chloe or her behavior.

  The bruises on Chloe’s arms and legs were not from playing as Keaton had been told time and again. Nausea churned in Keaton’s stomach as he’d listened to his daughter relay multiple instances of abuse. Self-disgust was an ugly thing. He’d been a blind fool to miss the signs.

  Yes, Diane wasn’t the warmest of mothers, and she complained every chance she could, but her vicious actions against his child made him want to kill.

  The men left Chloe with a snack and gathered on the deck, making sure they were out of her hearing range.

  “I’ll need to call Child Services and file a report, Keaton.”

  “What does that mean for Chloe? Is there the slightest possibility they could take and put her in foster care until they realize it’s safe for her to be here? I can’t allow that, C.C. She’s my daughter. Not to mention she’s a young witch coming into her powers,” Keaton argued.

 

‹ Prev