by T. M. Cromer
“You haven’t called me Dad and meant it since you were a teenager. I…” His father shook his head and graced him with a bittersweet smile. “I missed it.”
A pang of some long-suppressed emotion struck Nash’s heart. “Yeah, maybe when this is over, we should talk.”
“I’d like that.” Alastair cleared his throat and straightened his tie. “I’ll be back soon.”
After their father teleported away, Summer approached Nash. “He loves you. He always has.”
“He has a funny way of showing it.” But that wasn’t true. Not really. Alastair was just… Alastair. The scary-ass patriarch of the Thorne Witches who would smite someone as soon as look at them. Or so he appeared anyway. For those he loved, he was indulgent. He’d also been known to go to the ends of the earth for his family. There was a time when he was unapproachable, and that time happened to be Nash’s formative years when he needed a father figure. However, that too could be explained.
“He’s changed. You should give him a chance to show you how much.”
“Can we not talk about this now, sister? I have much more important things on my plate to deal with.” He couldn’t prevent the edge to his tone. Speaking to his half-sister about his messed-up childhood when the retrieval of the Red Scorpion needed to be uppermost in his mind was out of the question.
Summer opened her mouth to retort but seemed to be caught on a wave of dizziness. She swayed toward him, with a deep frown marring her forehead. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I don’t feel well suddenly.”
“Sit down here.” He led her to a nearby chair and squatted beside her to rub her wrists together. “What are you feeling?”
“I’m not sure. It was like a vicious wave of anger toward you, then it subsided as quickly. But it left me lightheaded.”
He conjured her a glass of water and watched as she took small sips. “It’s odd because I’ve been feeling bursts of the same thing for the last hour or so.”
“Yeah, I didn’t experience anything like it before we arrived.”
“I wonder if our sperm donor knows anything about it. Could be the power of this room.”
“Maybe.” The disquiet in her tone spoke volumes. Summer didn’t believe it was this place any more than Nash did. It left him to wonder what exactly was causing their amplified emotions.
“I think you should go, Summer. I appreciate that you want to help, but I’d feel better if you were safe at Thorne Manor or the Carlyle estate. As far away from Salinger and this mess as you can get.”
Her ready agreement told him more than words that she was shaken by this whole incident. “I’m sorry, Nash.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. We have more than enough witches and warlocks, should the need arise.” He smiled to show he had no hard feelings on the matter. “Thank you for coming when I called.”
“Anytime. You know that.”
“I do.”
They hugged, and a sense of belonging hit Nash. Before a year ago, he’d been a loner, protecting his twin sisters and cousins from afar. But they’d all developed a stronger bond after the crazy year they’d had, due in part to Alastair and the dangerous quests he’d sent them on in his determination to wake Aurora.
“I love you, brother.”
He swallowed hard. “I love you, too.” The words were rusty from disuse, but he meant them all the same. “Now go home.”
A short while later, Alastair arrived with Ryker and Knox. Over Ryker’s shoulder was a duffle bag of what Nash assumed was electronic equipment. The man had been a master spy. For years, Ryker had stayed under the radar in Zhu Lin’s camp, feeding details to the Witches’ Council and to Alastair, or so Nash suspected. As best friends, Ryker and Alastair had their own special language.
Another wave of irritation hit Nash. Surely he wasn’t jealous of his uncle’s relationship with Alastair? A sneaking suspicion developed that something more was brewing in the air around them. Before he spoke up, Nash wanted to get a better handle on the what and how.
“There. I think that about does it.” Autumn stepped back and admired her hair-cutting handiwork. “We will need to apply dye to hide the purple streaks.”
One of the things Nash loved about Ryanne had been her long dark hair with its wild purple highlights. He was saddened to see the bulk of that thick mane now sitting in a discarded pile on the floor. As Spring stepped back from applying the makeup, Nash looked back and forth at the twins. After they dyed her hair, a simple change of clothes would make the transition complete. A sliver of unease slithered along his spine. It was unpleasant and disturbing to see Ryanne now identical to her sister in every way.
* * *
It wasn’t difficult for Ryanne to see the distaste on Nash’s face. Oddly enough, it didn’t bother her. Instead, Nash’s expression bolstered her belief that he wasn’t interested in Rylee in any way. Ryanne’s insecurity from the evening before, when he’d confessed that Rylee had come on to him, had vanished.
“I’ll pick up some dark hair dye at the drugstore after we return home,” Ryanne said aloud.
“Old Al here has already thought of that,” Ryker assured her with a grin and a wink. In an economy of movements, he placed the duffle bag on the table, unzipped it, removed a box of Clairol, and tossed it to Nash.
“I’ll give you ‘Old Al,’ you rotten SOB,” Alastair muttered.
Ryker’s devilish grin widened. “I’m trembling in my boots.” In a flash, he turned serious and dug into his black bag of tricks. “I’ve brought a wire and listening device. Also, a few weapons for you to keep on your person. You should know, Victor will have Blockers in place. Teleporting in or out of his compound will be near impossible.”
“What are Blockers?” Ryanne asked, suddenly terrified by the mission she was about to undertake. Really, who was she anyway? Certainly not Lara Croft, tomb raider, or the female equivalent of Jason Bourne. No, she was a damned administrative assistant.
“Blockers are witches and warlocks who specialize in stopping others from teleporting. The Désorcelers employ them when they target their enemies.”
“Désorcelers?”
Ryker turned to glare at Nash and Alastair. “You didn’t tell her what she was going up against?”
Alastair shrugged as if Ryker’s pique was of little concern. “Mostly, yes. We didn’t want to scare the poor thing.”
“You’re an asshole, Al. I can’t believe you’d send her into this type of danger without the knowledge or means to protect herself.”
“That’s what you’re here for, my friend. You’ll take today to show her what she needs to know to defend herself.”
“I should tell you to shove it. I would, too, if I didn’t think you were going to send her anyway.”
Ryanne studied her sister, who seemed to be enjoying the interchange between the two warlocks. Why was she so determined to cause discord between everyone? Rylee met her look with a defiant tilt of her chin. Tears built, burning Ryanne’s eyes and nasal passages. Rapid blinking helped to dispel most of the moisture, but it could do nothing about the ache in her heart. There sat her last remaining relative, the person closest to her, and all her twin wanted to do was create havoc.
Turning away, Ryanne noticed Nash silently watching her. She gave him a tentative half-smile and grabbed the box of color from his hand. “Where’s the ladies’ room?”
“Come on, I’ll show you.”
He placed his large, warm hand on her lower back and led her out through the office doors. They hooked a left when they reached the main lobby and traveled partway down a long corridor. “I’m surprised your father didn’t have an en suite bathroom for his office.”
“He does. I thought maybe you needed a break from the oppressive air in there.” Nash opened the door to the visitors’ restroom and guided her inside. He pulled over a bench from the lounge area and gently urged her to sit. “I’ll apply this for you.”
As he moved to pass her, she reached for his hand. “Don’t feel guilty
or bad for sending me after the necklace, Nash. It’s the only foreseeable way to get it from Victor.”
“My uncle was right, Ryanne. This is dangerous for an experienced witch. For you, doubly so.” He sighed heavily and straddled the bench beside her. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried. All day, my nerves have been fighting to get the better of me. I’d be devastated if something were to happen to you.”
“Now you’re making me nervous.” She cupped his jaw and stroked her thumb over his lower lip in an action similar to his new habit. “I can pull this off. Rylee and I used to make a game of imitating each other when we were growing up. We thought it was fun to fool our adoptive parents. Now, it’s an easy matter of finding the necklace. I’m still hoping my sister might come through for me.”
Nash bit down lightly on the soft pad of her thumb, then kissed the same spot. After a long moment, he met her gaze and said, “I think you’re hoping in vain. She’s resentful, and I dare say spiteful. Please don’t be too trusting where she’s concerned, okay?”
“I feel it too, ya know. That feeling of hostility in the air. It’s almost as if it’s trying to wrap around me and choke off my oxygen.”
“Yes. That’s it exactly. I don’t feel it right now, though. It makes me think it’s emanating from Alastair’s office. Once we are done here, I’ll talk to him about it.” He rose and crossed to the sink. After a quick scan of the directions, Nash set about mixing the hair dye for application. He moved to her side and ran his hands through her hair, massaging her scalp in the process. “Tilt your head back, babe. Let’s get this sacrilege over.”
“You like the purple streaks?”
“I love the purple, just as I love everything about you.”
She couldn’t prevent the joyful smile taking over her face. As clueless as Nash sometimes seemed, there were moments like this, when he was perfect.
Chapter 15
Nash looked on as Ryker ran Ryanne through simple self-defense moves: the base of her palm to a nose, a heel to an instep, a knee to a groin. But it was the knife-wielding lesson that stirred Nash’s protective instincts. Every time Ryker knocked the weapon from her hand and pinned her to the ground or against a wall, the beast in Nash rose up in its desire to defend his mate.
It didn’t help that Ryker knew exactly what Nash was feeling—or he did if the smirk on his face was any indication. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Ryanne turned the tables in a stunningly fast move and held the blade tip to Ryker’s jugular. A cheer welled up and out of Nash as he rushed across the room to sweep her into a hug.
“Well done, babe.”
Her face flushed with pride, and she never looked more beautiful.
Ryker bowed his head in acknowledgment of her win. “You’re as ready as you can be on such short notice. Remember to stay alert, and if all else fails, stab Salinger in the ball sack.”
“I’d say that is a little vicious, Uncle.”
One dark brow rose, and Ryker stared him down.
“I didn’t say unwarranted, just vicious,” Nash said with a laugh. “It’s probably better to aim for Victor’s balls since he’s missing a heart.”
“Any man who would murder his own sister is exceedingly dangerous,” Alastair added as he strode toward their small group. He stopped in front of Ryanne and gave her a stern look. “Never forget that, child, and never hesitate.”
“I’ll remember,” she promised.
Nash clasped her hand and squeezed. “As much as I hate to say it, it’s past time for ‘Rylee’ to return.”
“I could go with her,” Ryker offered.
“You’d never get out alive, my friend.” Alastair shook his head, expression grim. “His paranoia runs deeper than Zhu Lin’s ever did.”
“So the only thing left is to recreate a journal to look like the original,” Ryanne stated. “How do we hide the magic of the journal?”
“We won’t need to. He’ll expect it to be spelled from the Council or from Nash. It’s okay if trace amounts of magic are detected on it.”
“Do you remember what we discussed for extraction? Once you find the necklace, you text Nash from Rylee’s phone. We’ll be waiting at the tree line on the edge of the compound. The Blockers can only maintain a perimeter of about fifteen yards beyond the building. The trees start at about thirty yards.” Alastair’s gaze bore into hers. “If you have to run for the trees, do not run in a straight line. It makes you an easy target.”
“I understand.”
“Good. Knox worked up a map from the GPS data. Victor’s place shouldn’t be hard to find.” Alastair tilted his head toward his office. “There is a shower in the bathroom attached to my office. When you are done, Autumn or Spring will conjure clothes to match your sister’s.”
Nash lifted their joined hands and dropped a light kiss on her knuckles. “Have one of my cousins let me know when you are ready, and I’ll attach the microphone. You won’t be able to hear us, but we will be able to hear you and come for you if you get into trouble.”
“Why do I need to text you if I’m wearing the wire? Won’t you hear me if I tell you that I found the necklace?”
“It’s assumed Victor will have video cameras everywhere. The signal interrupter only lasts a few minutes after it’s activated, so you need to be fast when you search each room. When those cameras come back on, I don’t want Victor to see you speaking into the wire.” He shot a glance toward the other men and then looked back at her. “If you use Rylee’s phone to text your phone, you can keep up a pretense of casual conversation. Ryker and Alastair have created a code of sorts. It will still appear like casual conversation. For example, type the words ‘Do you still have that red dress?’ and we will know you are in trouble. It’s a code red.”
“Fair enough. I’ll assume you’ll give me a rundown of these codes?”
“Yes. Are you sure you’re okay with this, babe?” Nash wondered how she could be, when his own instincts were screaming so loudly that they practically drowned out the conversation around him.
“I feel as if you’ve asked me this a million times. I wouldn’t have agreed in the first place if I didn’t believe it was the right thing to do,” she assured him.
A quick glance revealed his father’s impassive expression. Ryker’s countenance didn’t show much more emotion than Alastair’s. It seemed Nash was the only one freaking out. But then, he had the most to lose.
“Any last words of advice?” If his tone was gruff, it couldn’t be helped.
“Yes,” Ryker said as he placed a hand on Ryanne’s shoulder. “Don’t let your act slip. Not once. You have to assume someone is watching you at all times. You must be Rylee.”
She nodded her understanding.
Nash crowded closer to her side. “If you two don’t mind, I’d like a moment alone with Ryanne.” After they left, he drew her into his arms. “I’m terrified for you,” he confessed. “All along, I’d planned to ask for your help, but now that the moment’s here to send you into Victor’s compound, I can’t seem to find it within me to let you do it.”
She snuggled into his chest and sighed. “I’m taking the choice out of your hands, Nash. I’m doing this whether you want me to or not. I had a chance to read the journal a little this morning and again during my makeover. I don’t need to tell you how dangerous that necklace can be in the wrong hands.”
“No, you don’t. But I feel like we should find another way.” He kissed the top of her head and hugged her tighter. Part of him never wanted to let her go. Wanted to protect her from anything that could possibly hurt her. That same part urged him to battle anyone who might take her away from him.
Ryanne patted his chest. “If you can find a different solution while I’m in the shower, I’ll be open to a new plan. Otherwise, this is all we have.”
“How are you so calm about this?”
“I’m not. Not in the least. In fact, I’m downright terrified. But what choice do we have?”
He cupped her face
between his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips opened under his, and he swept his tongue into her mouth. Into that kiss, he poured all the things he couldn’t say. All the overwhelming love for her that he’d waited too long to act on. All his hopes and fears. And miracle of miracles, he felt her answering response. Nash never wanted this moment to end.
From the doorway behind Ryanne, Alastair cleared his throat. “Son, we have to get a move on.”
A stinging started behind Nash’s lids as deep, burning emotion clogged his throat and seized his vocal cords. All he could do was rest his forehead against Ryanne’s as he cradled her face.
She lightly stroked his wrists. “It’s going to be all right.”
He nodded slightly, still unable to speak.
“We just connected. I’m not about to lose this,” she whispered.
Her words gave him the strength to pull back and release her. “Go get your shower. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“I love you, Nash.”
“I love you more,” he said, casting her a teasing grin in an attempt to hide his distress.
She laughed, and it was sunshine to his soul. “Probably.”
“Rylee, please help me.”
When her sister remained stubbornly silent, Ryanne heaved an internal sigh. She’d been trying for the last fifteen minutes to get her twin to see reason and to provide any intel on Victor’s compound she could.
“I don’t understand why you would wish harm on me and Nash. What do you truly owe Victor?” Ryanne tried to reason. “He’s done unspeakable things. He was responsible for killing his own sister. Do you truly believe he won’t turn on you?”
“You love him more than me,” Rylee whispered.
“Who? Nash?”
“Yes. You love him more than me.”
“That’s not true.” Okay, it was a little true, but how did one tell their sister that they held very little affection for them anymore? Tell them that all the horrific things they’d done in the past had tainted that love and made it something ugly? Tell them that any love they felt now was a sense of obligation only? “I love you both in different ways, Leelee.”
