Essential Magic

by T. M. Cromer

  It was like being doused in cold water. The shock of his words brought on a gasp, and she shoved him back. “Are you for real?”

  Nash laughed. “You’ve seen my father. Tell me, did you think he had plastic surgery?”

  “I admit to being curious, but I had no idea it was anything as fantastical as not aging at the rate of non-magical humans.” She shook her head in wonder. “I have so many questions.”

  “And I have the answers, but first, you shower while I make your coffee. Or would you prefer that latte?” he asked with a wicked grin.

  “Definitely the latte with a double shot of espresso. Oh, and extra whipped cream!”

  He laughed on his way to the door. Right before placing his hand on the knob, he snapped his fingers, effectively clothing himself. It was the first time Ryanne had seen him dress casually, and she liked the look of a worn Henley and the faded jeans that outlined his butt, showing it off to perfection. Still, she sighed that he had to cover up that fine-ass body at all. If it were up to her, she’d keep him naked and in bed forever.

  As if sensing her thoughts, he shot her a wink and pulled open the door. When it closed behind him, Ryanne waited five seconds then waved her hands in the air and wiggled her ass in a happy dance.

  “Nice.”

  His deep baritone from behind her evoked a bloodcurdling scream. As he doubled over in laughter, she smacked the top of his head.

  “You’re a jerk! You scared me half to death.”

  “Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry in the least. “I popped back in to see if you wanted any breakfast with that latte.”

  She scoffed and shoved past him. “You couldn’t come back in the way you left?”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Stopping in the doorway of the bathroom, she tossed her hair back over her shoulder and shot him a glare. It was impossible to stay angry when faced with his devilishly handsome smile. Her lips twitched in response. “Do witches face health issues like clogged arteries?”

  “Nope.”

  “Good. I’ll take biscuits and gravy with a side of scrambled eggs, but not runny.”

  “It will be waiting for you when you are done.”

  As Ryanne shampooed her hair, trepidation for what had to happen today crept in. Without a doubt, they couldn’t release Rylee, not before getting their hands on that cursed necklace. It was doubtful that Victor would take the extended disappearance of Rylee lightly. No, Ryanne would need to become her sister, sarcastic attitude and all.

  Doubts assailed her. This was what Nash had suggested yesterday before Alastair arrived. Had last night and this morning been manipulation on his part? Seducing her into doing his bidding? She didn’t care for the direction her thoughts had taken. Regardless, she was in the game now.

  Chapter 12

  Ryanne was quiet where she sat across from Nash. Misgivings plagued his thoughts. Liz’s and Alastair’s warnings about putting Ryanne in harm’s way rose up in his mind and haunted him with what-ifs. What if Victor discovered she wasn’t Rylee? What if something terrible were to happen to her and Nash couldn’t get to her in time to save her?

  “Are you all right, babe?” he asked in a low tone.

  Her head whipped up, and she met his gaze. Her obvious anxiety bothered him.

  “Talk to me, Ryanne. What has you troubled about all this?”

  Her dark gaze shot to where her surly sister sat in the living room. “Everything about this disturbs me. I can’t put my finger on what’s wrong, but I have this churning in my gut, and it’s getting stronger by the minute.”

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  Her expression softened when she met his serious gaze. “I know, and yet I feel as if I do. My sister is neck-deep in this crap, and ultimately she came here to, at the very least, steal the journal. At most, to brew up her special brand of mischief.” She set down her fork with a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I need to do this.”

  “I’ll text my father, and we can figure out how to get you in place.” He abandoned his own food, unable to drum up his appetite now that the subject of Victor was on the table.

  As if the mention of Alastair sent out a cosmic bat signal, the air around them shifted and a rip in the fabric of space opened for the man himself. Similar to a wild animal scanning its surroundings for danger, Alastair cast a quick glance about the room. His nostrils flared, and he narrowed his eyes at Rylee. His shudder was subtle, and had Nash not been watching his father, he’d have missed it. Alastair seemed to sense things were not as they appeared.

  Odd, but Nash had had the same feeling earlier when he left Ryanne to her shower. It was as if evil were gathering in the room. A malevolent vibe of sorts. Yet the dynamics hadn’t changed all that much. It was still the four of them, three of whom were on the same team. Perturbed, he studied Rylee.

  Her eyes had taken on a wild look, darting back and forth before touching on their group, only to start the action all over again.

  “What’s going on?”

  Ryanne’s question nearly made Nash come out of his skin. Goddess, he was getting jumpy.

  “I’m not sure.” He tried to relay his caution with a quick glance in her direction. “I think we need to adjourn to somewhere with stronger wards,” he murmured to his father.

  “I agree, son. I’m not comfortable here. Something is off about this whole thing. The longer it goes on, the surer I am.”

  “Thorne Industries?”

  “My old offices.”

  Alastair referred to when he was CEO of the company, before Aurora Gillespie-Thorne, in her state of stasis, had required his full attention and he had relinquished the reins to Nash. At the time, Nash hadn’t wanted anything to do with the company his father’s family had founded, but the Witches’ Council had strongly encouraged him to seize control and turn it into a tool for their benefit. Not wanting to move into the same space Alastair previously occupied, Nash had constructed his current office and hidden treasure room.

  “Wouldn’t the wards on my offices be stronger after all this time?” Nash asked.

  “It’s humorous you believe so,” Alastair returned. “My old office was built on sacred ground, son. Isis herself blessed that spot.”

  Nash grunted. He should’ve done his homework, or at the very least, questioned why his father found it amusing that Nash had conjured up the new office building.

  “I’ll bring our reluctant guest.” From inside his suit jacket, he withdrew the journal. “Here. Gather your lovely young woman and whatever else you need, then meet me at my offices. The wards will be lowered for you for exactly five minutes from the time I teleport, son.” Alastair graced him with a stern warning look. “Don’t be late. You don’t want to crash into the magical barrier. The shock will knock you on your backside.”

  “Understood.”

  As Alastair gripped Rylee’s arm, he cast Nash one last long look. “Five minutes.”

  After his father disappeared, Nash waved an arm and restored the kitchen and dining area to rights.

  An awe-inspired smile lit up Ryanne’s face. “I’ll never get tired of that.”

  “When this is over, I’ll show you how to do that and more.” He picked up the journal from the granite countertop and held out a hand to her. “I can’t believe he smuggled this out last night. How did we miss that?”

  “Maybe because we were distracted with other matters?”

  “Most likely,” he agreed as he caressed her cheek. “Are you ready to go?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  They arrived with two minutes to spare.

  “Prompt, as always.” Alastair’s tone bordered on snide. He was surprised by his own malice if the expression on his face was any indication. “I’m sorry, son. I’m not sure why I said it that way.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Let’s come up with a game plan. The sooner this is over and Ryanne is back home, the better I’ll feel.”

  “I have a question,” Ryanne said, hand raised
to gain attention. “If I understand this warding thing correctly, no one can enter a space that is magically protected unless they’ve been granted access, is that correct?”

  Nash gave her a brief nod.

  “If that’s the case, surely Victor will have warded his place, no? How will I be able to simply stroll in without consequences? And even if I can do that, how do I convey to both of you that I’ve gotten what I went for? I’m assuming one of you will need to get me out since I don’t know how to teleport.”

  Nash wanted to swear a blue streak. His entire life had been filled with magic, and he’d gone on the assumption that he could simply spell Ryanne to look like her sister. But the reality was much more complicated than that. Ryanne was correct in assuming that Victor would have wards in place. He’d have a whole helluva lot more than that to detect intruders.

  “We have to proceed as if magic doesn’t exist,” Alastair informed them. “Ryanne is correct. Anything more, charmed jewelry for communication, spells to alter her appearance, all of it will set off alarms. We have to assume Victor is prepared for anything.”

  “Without magic?” Nash was highly doubtful they could pull this off without their standard powers. “How are we supposed to do that?”

  “We alter her appearance with scissors and makeup, then send her in through the front door with a wire.”

  The unease brewing in the back of his mind turned into a Category 5 hurricane of epic worrisome proportions. “I don’t like it. I say we scrap this idea.”

  “Last night I did some light reading. We need to retrieve the Red Scorpion from Victor. That kind of power, in his hands, is devastating.”

  In the privacy of his own mind, Nash let loose a string of curses a mile long. He’d known before his father spoke that this was a serious problem. Yet the idea of sending Ryanne into danger, as was his original plan, didn’t sit right anymore. Not since last night. Not after what they’d shared.

  A single glance showed she mirrored his misgivings, but even as Nash watched, resolve settled onto her features.

  “I can do this, Nash. We don’t have a choice.”

  Still, he didn’t speak. Couldn’t speak. If he gave the okay for her to step into Salinger’s compound and something happened to her, there was no way on this green earth Nash could live with himself again. No way he wanted to. Not without Ryanne.

  “I love you,” he rasped.

  Her face softened with her smile. “I love you, too.”

  Nash chewed the inside of his lip and nodded. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “When did you become such a worrier?” she teased.

  “He always has been. It’s the bane of the Thorne family,” Alastair inserted, his tone dry and his amusement obvious.

  “Bite me, Sperm Donor.”

  Alastair laughed and clapped him on the back. “There’s my disagreeable son. Welcome back. Now let’s get started.”

  Anger welled up inside Nash, and the desire to knock his father’s hand away overwhelmed him. As he lifted his arm to do so, he realized his rage was misplaced. Where had it come from? It couldn’t simply be worry for Ryanne, could it? He shoved down the urge to snap.

  “We need supplies. Do you have anything here, or do I need to make a supply run?” he asked.

  “I can conjure scissors, and a simple phone call to your Uncle Ryker will get us a wire tap.” Alastair cleared his throat. “But I’m no hairstylist, boy, as my overall look prior to your sister’s makeover of my person should tell you.”

  Nash snorted. He remembered well that his father had looked like a Hollywood villain of old before Summer worked her magic. “Fair enough. How about we give her and the sisters a call?”

  At Alastair’s nod, Nash dialed Summer and explained their need. He then sent pictures of the inside of the office so she could form an image of the room and teleport freely.

  Chapter 13

  As with all the Thorne Witches stories, I have to honor the tradition of omitting this particular chapter for superstition’s sake. Better safe than sorry, no?

  Chapter 14

  Within thirty minutes, Summer, Autumn, and Spring arrived.

  “I feel like we are missing a few people,” Nash joked.

  “Winnie and the husbands are on baby duty. With the exception of Coop. He’s doing sheriffy things,” Summer informed him.

  He placed a hand on her protruding belly. “How is little Olivia Rose today?”

  “She’s being a punkass, but I love her anyway.”

  As if on cue, Nash felt a forceful kick beneath his hand. “Should you be here this close to your time? If I’d have thought—”

  “Pfft!” Autumn cut him off with a scoff and a simple wave of her hand. “She’s not helpless. What’s the plan? Whose ass are we kicking?” She frowned and glanced around as if confused. “I don’t know where that came from. I didn’t arrive all edgy.”

  Spring, the most quiet and reflective of all the sisters, walked around touching objects and books on the shelves closest to her. “There’s great power here, isn’t there? I can feel the vibrations from the earth, even through the concrete.”

  She said exactly what Nash had been feeling.

  “Do you suppose the balance is off? Autumn isn’t the only one to feel twitchy,” he said.

  “No. It’s something else. I’m not sure yet.” Like Nash, as an earth elemental, Spring would find it difficult to get a read on a place without plants to give off a vibration. She abruptly dropped her hand and faced them. “I suppose it will reveal itself in due time, but now I believe formal introductions are in order. We’ve been rude to your friend long enough.”

  Nash started and looked back at the other sisters in surprised wonder. How had he forgotten they’d never met Ryanne? Was it because she’d been such an integral part of his life for so long that he’d assumed everyone knew about her?

  “I’m Ryanne.” She held out her hand to Spring with a smile. “I’m Nash’s… girlfriend.”

  Warmth flooded through him at Ryanne’s words. A sort of possessiveness that made him want to shout “Mine!” He placed a hand on her hip and lightly squeezed.

  “I’m Spring, and these are my sisters Summer and Autumn.”

  “Also known as the Weird Season Sisters in our one-horse town,” Autumn quipped.

  Summer rolled her eyes and hugged Ryanne as much as her belly would allow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I thought Nash would never get his head out of his ass long enough to make a move.”

  Alastair laughed and wrapped an arm around Summer.

  Another strong emotion—this one a burning jealousy—rose up and grabbed Nash by the throat. He envied their easy camaraderie. It was the very thing missing from his relationship with his father. The riot of emotions floored him. He had no idea why these long-suppressed feelings were surging to the surface, or even what he should do to get a handle on them. All he did know, was that this wasn’t the place or time for his upset.

  “Thanks for coming, ladies. Ryanne needs to be made over to look like her twin without the use of magic. There can’t be any trace of power clinging to her or our game is up.”

  As one, the Thorne sisters turned to the pissed off woman sitting in the corner. If Rylee’s fiery glare had the ability to set them ablaze, they’d all be on a spit overtop of a raging bonfire right about now, with an apple stuffed in their mouths.

  “Why would Ryanne need to look like her sister?” Spring asked.

  “Rylee is a confidante of Victor Salinger. Ryanne is going to take her place,” Alastair informed them.

  “Oh, hell no!” Autumn exploded. “You are not putting that girl in harm’s way. No way, no how! I won’t be party to such foolishness.”

  “It’s my choice,” Ryanne said as she moved closer to Nash and laced her fingers through his. “If you don’t want to help, I understand and won’t hold it against you, but I’m doing this. My understanding is that this necklace Nash needs has some bad juju attached to it. Victor can’
t be allowed to keep it.”

  “What is with this family and these damned scavenger hunts for magical items?” Autumn muttered. In a louder voice, she said, “If you’re committed to this, have a seat. Spring will do your makeup, I’ll do your hair, and Summer can conjure your outfit.” She waved the men away. “Go find Uncle Ryker and Knox. Those two will be able to help think of all the little things you two have overlooked. They’re more skilled at subterfuge than you are. Or at least Uncle Ryker is. But we could definitely use Knox for our magical muscle.”

  Spring smiled at her sister, and Nash assumed it was because she was more comfortable with her husband around. Spring had gone through a rough time at the hands of Victor Salinger’s cohort, Zhu Lin, and she preferred to have Knox beside her when things got real. It didn’t hurt that Knox was gifted with god-like powers, courtesy of the Goddess Isis herself.

  As Nash saw it, Isis had been out to protect the bloodlines of herself and the Goddess Nephthys by providing Knox with the means to destroy enemies on any plane. His special ability to stop time had come in handy in the past, and probably would again in the near future. Nash pitied anyone who threatened Spring. Knox would destroy them without a second thought—and he had. Talk about your power couples.

  Looking at Ryanne, Nash felt an affinity for Knox.

  She caught his eye and smiled, but the normal sassy quality was missing. It was easy to see she was nervous. Yet he had no real way to comfort her. The mission she was about to embark on was as dangerous as it got for anyone associated with a Thorne.

  “Son? You with me?”

  Nash jolted and turned his head toward the sound of Alastair’s voice. “Pardon?”

  “I asked if you preferred me to fetch Knox while you remain here.”

  “That would be great, Dad,” he agreed absently. Alastair’s sharp intake of breath caught his attention. “What?”