Essential Magic

by T. M. Cromer

  “I’m sure.”

  He rose and held out a hand. “Then let’s go find out what part Alastair wants us to play in all of this.”

  Her feelings of gratitude were strong, and they wrapped around him through his empathic gift. She needed this. Probably more so than his father, who had waited almost thirty years to exact revenge on Salinger.

  Alastair laid out a simple plan to draw Victor Salinger out. He fully intended to taunt Victor into making a move. A basic “come and get me, asshole” tactic to set himself up as bait. It was a given Victor wouldn’t be able to resist the opportunity to strike at Alastair.

  Ryanne hated the idea.

  She preferred to take the necklace back to Victor, pretend she was Rylee, and find a way to strangle that damned asshole with the evil little jeweled beast. Her plan was less likely to ensure survival than Alastair’s.

  “What about a combination of your plan and mine?” she asked the head of the Thorne clan.

  “Please elaborate, child.”

  Being the focus of all Alastair’s clever attention was disturbing, but she forged ahead. “What if Rylee takes you to Victor? A prize for her boss. We pretend I was the casualty of this whole debacle and create the illusion of the necklace around your neck. Attack him in his own home for a change.” Under everyone’s speculative regard, Ryanne began to sweat.

  Alastair shifted his attention to Nash, who stared at her with a deep frown.

  “What?” she asked. Her tone was waspish, and she wished she could dial back the attitude. It was harder to do this close to the Red Scorpion.

  Nash surprised her when he said, “I think it could work. Your energy is different now. Your light altered.”

  She jerked back as if he’d slapped her. One of the things that allowed him to distinguish between her and Rylee had been her light, or so he’d told her two days ago.

  Two days.

  It seemed like a lifetime ago.

  “I didn’t mean anything bad by it, babe.” He touched her shoulder in comfort. “But you are different since your time in the Otherworld. It would be impossible not to be changed by the whole incident.”

  “I get it.” She did, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Nerves got the better of her. “If you think it’s a stupid idea, just say so.”

  “I don’t, but I can’t see how he’ll be fooled for long. Nor can I think of a reasonable explanation my father would be standing after that blasted scorpion was attached to his chest. It took me down in less than an hour. Granted, my dad is probably twice as strong as me magically and in physicality, but still.”

  “Good point, son.” Alastair looked at the other family members standing silently by. “Thoughts? Spring, you are unusually quiet. I’ve never known you to not pipe in with some brilliant scheme.”

  Her distasteful grimace did nothing to detract from her beauty. “I can’t see how anything involving either Victor or that cursed scorpion will turn out positively.”

  Knox nodded his agreement. “I say we go back to the original idea of burying it in cement at the farthest reaches of the earth. Surely if it is discovered again, it will be some time and no longer our problem.”

  “Victor will not be as easy to dispose of,” Alastair told them. “He’s every bit as deadly as that necklace.”

  “Too bad we can’t bury his whole compound,” Ryanne muttered.

  All eyes turned on her, widened in wonder.

  “Why did we never think of that?” Alastair asked with a shake of his head. “It takes an outsider to remind us of our power over Victor.”

  “Could we get close enough with the Blockers present?” Ryker asked.

  “We don’t need to,” Spring replied with a widening grin. “We have two earth elementals and two metal elementals. Uncle Alastair is pretty much Superman, and with Aunt GiGi, they could put the final touches on our sinkhole. We could easily do it from thirty yards out. Perhaps even fifty to be on the safe side.”

  Ryker nodded his understanding. “We need to make sure he remains on the grounds.”

  “And we need to make sure there is no more collateral damage,” Ryanne added. “I couldn’t bear it if I thought more people were going to lose their loved ones.”

  “Victor only hires people without ties. Even if they did once have family they cared about, they wouldn’t for long. Not working for him, child.”

  Looking into Alastair’s serious sapphire gaze, Ryanne recognized the truth of his words. “Do you think it’s why he murdered my adoptive parents?”

  “Yes. It’s why he would’ve eventually murdered you if he intended to keep Rylee as a pawn. However, I suspect she’d served her purpose. He would’ve had her eliminated soon enough.”

  “You speak so casually about death.” Ryanne’s stomach flip-flopped at the sadness that flashed in his eyes. “Is this what I have to look forward to as Nash’s girlfriend?”

  Father and son locked eyes. It was Nash who eventually answered. “There will undoubtedly be more enemies in our future, Ryanne. We are Thornes. We were blessed with power most witches only dream about. It builds resentment and hatred. Added to the mix is your ancestor, Serqet.” He sighed and shook his head. “As you saw, she will stop at nothing to destroy us.” He lifted her hand and held her palm against his cheek. “You need to decide if you can live this way. It might be better for you if you headed for the nearest exit.” Dropping her hand, he strode at a fast clip toward the old Victorian house they called Thorne Manor.

  Ryanne watched him in dismay, her mouth hanging open. After two years of dancing around their attraction, life-altering sex, and the torturous, fucked-up two days they’d been through, he decided to drop a get-out-while-you-can bomb and walk away?

  “Oh, hell no!” she growled right before she charged after him.

  She was certain she heard Alastair’s chuckle, but she ignored him and ran for the house. She found Nash lingering at the kitchen island, a mug of what she assumed to be coffee halfway to his mouth.

  “Are you for real right now?” she shrieked out the question. “No one wants to see that fucker dead and buried more than I do. I have absolutely no qualms about it either.” She inhaled deeply, warming to her rant. “You don’t get to sex me up and rock my world, tell me I’m your everything, then walk away as if you could take my love or leave it.” She punctuated the last sentence with her index finger against his chest. “Your damned arrogance is why you collect enemies. Not your supernatural abilities. I can say this, because I want to throat punch you right now.”

  The surprise left his face in increments and morphed into roguish delight. Carefully, he set his mug down and clasped the hand that had poked his chest. With a quick, hard tug, she was tightly wrapped in his warm embrace.

  “Rock your world?” he teased with a butterfly-soft kiss on the exposed skin just below her ear.

  “Shut up. You know you did.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt I did. You returned the favor. I’m mocking you because no one says ‘rock my world’ anymore.”

  “I hate you.”

  “No, you don’t, babe. Not even a little bit.”

  His mouth lowered to hers and captured her retort. The taste of him—coffee and dark chocolate—drove her wild, and she wanted to feel his naked, hot skin against hers. Wanted to have wild, monkey sex and leave the outside world far, far behind. Wanted him to pound into her and shout her name over and over as he came. She recognized this might be her desire for affirmation of life—a way to warm the cold parts of her soul—but she didn’t care. This man was essential to her very existence.

  They broke apart to suck in much-needed oxygen into their lungs.

  “No,” she agreed. “Not even a little bit.”

  Chapter 28

  They staked out Victor’s compound, using two family members at a time as a precaution. By the end of the third day, Victor made an appearance on Nash’s watch.

  Touching the tanzanite and platinum ring his father had designed specially for him, Na
sh sent a telepathic signal to Alastair.

  “He’s here.”

  “I’ll inform the others.”

  Twenty minutes later, their sink-hole-production team was in place under the umbrella of Granny Thorne’s invisibility spell. It consisted of Nash, Alastair, GiGi, Ryker, Knox, Autumn, and Spring. Ryanne was to torch the entire compound as the others collapsed the buildings and opened the earth to consume them. In theory, they would expand their circle of magic to surround the estate, with the witches spread out evenly around the perimeter. They all now had some form of charmed tanzanite jewelry to boost communication.

  “Ryanne, because you are the most inexperienced witch, I’d prefer you stay out of harm’s way. If anything goes wrong, teleport back to Thorne Manor without delay.” Nash and Ryanne had worked on her skill set when they weren’t monitoring Salinger’s activities. She had good control of basic abilities, but she was a novice. Nash wouldn’t put her at risk, despite her desire to “fry Victor’s ass” as she so eloquently put it.

  She lifted her chin, and a steely light entered her dark eyes. “I’m here until the end. I won’t be satisfied until I see his eyes closed in permanent sleep.”

  She was never more beautiful than when she was being stubborn. Yet, Nash’s insides were a ball of nerves. He hated to think what could happen to her. There had been enough close calls in his family over the last year and a half. All those involved had grown up with magic. They knew the ins and outs of utilizing their power for their personal protection. Ryanne was nothing more than a babe in the woods. Her first instinct would be to react as a human and not a magical entity.

  “You’re killing me, you know that?” he complained not so good-naturedly.

  She surprised him when she grinned and pressed a firm kiss to his mouth. “Yeah, I get that. But in this, you can’t control everything, Nash. I need to be a part of this. I need to be able to verify for myself that he is gone. He, or one of his ilk, was responsible for the deaths of everyone I’ve ever loved, with the exception of you.”

  Her response was understandable. Nash didn’t like it, but she was also an adult and had to make her own choices. “Stay close to me, okay?”

  “I promise.”

  Once they were all in position, Alastair led the group in a protection spell. He created a boundary around the property’s perimeter—a circle within a circle—a four-feet-deep band allowing the witches room to move, but repelling anyone else from crossing through to escape the coming destruction.

  Through their tanzanite connection, he instructed the metal elementals, Ryker and Knox, to begin the teardown of the buildings. Knox removed screws and brackets while Ryker removed nails and other fastenings. When they were done, they started on the Rebar supports. Nash and Spring were up next. They manipulated the limestone, slowly chipping away at it to create channels underground, as Alastair drew every drop of moisture from the earth beneath the buildings. Autumn conjured a five-feet-high wall of fire to encircle the estate, just on the far side of the security fence. GiGi produced the wind to feed the flames and direct them toward the structures.

  Shouts went up in warning, and people crowded in the courtyard and parking area. From his location, Nash could see Victor Salinger stroll out of the main doors as if he had all day and the fire quickly consuming the grassy area of his compound was of no consequence.

  The moment Nash saw him, he started a low-rolling earthquake. He derived satisfaction from watching Salinger stagger and scramble to remain upright.

  Through the telepathic connection, he said, “Now, Spring.”

  Together, they encouraged the earth to collapse, and Mother Nature complied. The building at the centermost of the clustered structures went down in a pile of rubble and dust. Screams of terror echoed in the early morning air as the rumble of earth became louder and the land beneath their feet opened.

  Victor remained calm amongst the chaos, leisurely scanning the tree line around the property.

  “Are any of you seeing this? Why is Victor not reacting?” he asked the others.

  “It’s concerning,” Alastair replied.

  “It gives me the heebie-jeebies,” Ryanne murmured from beside Nash.

  He couldn’t agree more. Of course Victor would know it was the Thornes. Who else would attack his compound? But to act as if this was an everyday occurrence and no big deal was, as Alastair said, concerning.

  Suddenly, Victor smiled and raised his arm to circle in the air above him. The sound of military-style weapons being shouldered exploded throughout the woods surrounding them.

  “Teleport now, Ryanne. Right fucking now! Achoo!”

  “I can’t!” she cried.

  “Blockers!” Alastair stated grimly through their connection. “Everyone get as low to the ground as you can and stay where you are.”

  “Nash Thorne!” Victor called out. “I can tell by the appearance of raccoons that you’re on my property. Step forward with the necklace, and I won’t kill whoever else you have hidden with you.”

  “If other witches were present, why didn’t they block the fire and earthquakes?” Ryanne wanted to know.

  Nash felt as if he’d been poleaxed. “Why is a darned good question.”

  “Could it be that you’re too powerful as a group?” she asked.

  “Dad?”

  It didn’t take long for Alastair to answer. “I think Victor’s bluffing. I don’t know why Ryanne couldn’t teleport, but if Blockers were present, we would have met with resistance. I’m going to step out from the shield.”

  Ryker’s response was immediate. “Not a chance! If he’s not bluffing, he’ll gun you down for sport.”

  “How about we take a page from GiGi’s book and levitate like she did in the clearing when she confronted Harold Beecham?” Knox asked. “For the record, I had no idea that was even a thing.”

  “That gives me an idea.” Alastair slowly spun in a circle, surveying the lay of the land. “Everyone, come toward me.”

  “Mr. Thorne, I won’t ask again,” Victor shouted.

  “No, son,” Alastair responded. “Don’t listen to him. Bring Ryanne here. We’ll get her to safety.”

  Staying low in case the gunmen opened fire, Nash ushered Ryanne to Alastair. They all squatted in a small cluster. “What now?”

  “Join hands,” Alastair instructed. When they had all complied, he said, “Now, lie belly down on the ground. You three, send a shockwave in Victor’s direction, and the rest of you send a shockwave toward the trees.” He locked eyes with Ryanne. “In the clearing, Serqet stated you had the power to destroy all of us. If unleashed, do you have the confidence in yourself to control that power?”

  “What do you mean?” She cast an anxious glance Nash’s way.

  “Stand here, child. Put your arms up, palms facing Victor. Good.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I am going to add to your ability with my own, but I need you to concentrate. Your magic could hurt me when it ignites. Don’t look anywhere but at your intended target. Feel your cells heat and shove that energy toward your palms. Visualize it turning Salinger into fried bacon.”

  “Got it!”

  * * *

  As Victor opened his mouth to give the order to fire, Ryanne blasted him with all she had. It tore through their cloaking shield, exposing them all. Into the action, she poured all her grief for her birth parents, for the Joneses, and for Rylee. The apprehension she felt regarding the control of her magic was small in comparison to the revenge driving her. She intended to blast that bastard back to hell.

  As the soldiers shifted to take aim, Nash, GiGi, and Ryker combined their efforts and buckled the earth separating them from Victor’s mercenaries. The trees toppled outward, taking down the men who hadn’t initially lost their footing to the small quake.

  Spring, Knox, and Autumn copied the maneuver.

  “Bury the bloody compound,” Alastair barked. “Now!”

  The Thornes joined hands and executed their initial plan. The employees of
Victor who had survived their first attack ran toward the ring of fire Autumn had initially created, choosing what they must’ve felt was the lesser of two evils. GiGi sent hurricane-force winds in their direction and made it impossible for Victor’s panicked minions to go anywhere but back the way they’d come.

  “Ryanne, you can stop now, child.”

  But she couldn’t. A sob tore from her throat for all she’d lost. Rylee’s death was the freshest and grated the worst. Pointless even. The whim of a man seeking revenge.

  Strong, warm arms wrapped around her.

  Nash.

  In slow increments, she felt her anger dissolve. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she understood Nash was taking her pain, helping her to get a grip and control herself once more. Embarrassed by her lack of control, she averted her eyes from his family. It was only then that she noticed his burns.

  “Ohmygod! Nash!” Instinctively, she reached for him.

  His harsh, indrawn breath made her snatch her hands back. Blisters formed along the smoother skin on the underside of his forearms where he’d touched her body. She’d done that! She wanted to weep due to the excruciating pain she’d caused him.

  “Oh, Nash! I’m so very sorry. Tell me how to heal this?”

  GiGi stepped close, careful not to touch her, but offering her comfort. “You can’t, dear. Please step aside. My brother and I will take care of Nash.”

  “I didn’t mean to. I swear,” Ryanne babbled.

  “I know, babe,” Nash assured her through gritted teeth. “I know.”

  She had the feeling he did, but her remorse for what she’d done to him weighed heavily upon her.

  GiGi stood next to Nash’s right arm as Alastair positioned himself at his left. By silent agreement, they transferred healing energy from their bared palms to the skin on Nash’s forearms, running it up one side and down the other in an attempt to cool and restore his burnt, abused flesh to normal.

  Because Ryanne couldn’t face what she’d done to him, she pivoted away to stare at the destruction she’d wrought to the compound. One figure lay balled up on the only parcel of land untouched by the Thornes.