Spring Magic

by T. M. Cromer

  As she saw it, she had two choices. Allow Lin to abduct and possibly kill her, or scream the hotel down around them. She opened her mouth to emit an ear-splitting scream. The roundhouse kick to her jaw knocked her out.

  Alastair and Knox jerked in response to the scream echoing up from the atrium. The plants around them shriveled and blackened.

  “Spring!” Knox shouted as he ran into their room.

  “You’re too late, son. That scream is a clear indication that Lin already has her.”

  Not bothering to reply, Knox teleported to the lobby. A wide-eyed maid pointed toward the atrium. By the time he arrived, there was no sign of Spring other than the dead foliage. Cupping his hands over his eye sockets, he fell to his knees. Knox lost his ability to breathe. As he tried to gulp in much-needed oxygen, Alastair appeared in the entry.

  “We’ll get her back, son.”

  “I blame you,” he said hoarsely. “Everything you touch turns to shit. Do you know that?” Knox poured all his rage and despair into the clap of his hands. The wave of energy he produced slung Alastair into the nearest wall. “You did this. You took a green girl and threw her into the way of that sociopath.”

  Other than to straighten and adjust his cuffs, Alastair remained quiet.

  “If anything happens to her…” Knox’s voice broke and he swallowed hard. “If he…” He cleared his throat. “Luckily for you, I have a backup plan.”

  11

  “What the fuck do you mean, you lost her?” Knox bellowed at the man he’d commissioned to protect Spring should it be needed. “You had one job! One! Watch Spring Thorne. Don’t let her out of your sight.” He cleared the closest dresser with a vicious swipe.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Carlyle. They got the jump on us.”

  He glared at the Witches’ Council guard a moment before he let loose a blast of energy. The younger man stumbled backward. The sound his body made as it collided with the chest of drawers didn’t give Knox even the merest smidgeon of satisfaction. Continuously throwing the brainless knob against the dresser until the man was a limp, bloody rag doll might help counter Knox’s rage, but it wasn’t going to help him find Spring. “Get out!”

  He dreaded the calls he needed to make. It was a toss-up to see who would be the first to tear the skin from his bones: Spring’s father or her protective older sister, Autumn. Whatever torture they devised, it wouldn’t be enough to atone for the life-threatening situation in which he had placed Spring.

  He withdrew his phone and pressed the button for his contacts. Preston’s was the first name to come up. It stared back at Knox accusingly. Closing his eyes against the self-disgust and fear clawing at his mind, he hit call. After this, any rapport the two men shared over their mutual work for the Council would be void. Preston would hate him.

  “Thorne.”

  “Lin has her.”

  The change in Preston’s tone was immediate. “Take a picture of your room and send it.”

  Knox disconnected and did as ordered.

  Preston arrived within seconds. “Send a text with the image to Cooper Carlyle with instructions not to tell Spring’s sisters. Tell him to come immediately.”

  Once again, Knox did as commanded. Within two minutes, Coop had joined them.

  Preston wore a haggard look while Coop’s face held disbelief.

  “What happened?” Preston demanded. “How did Lin get his filthy hands on my baby?”

  “He must’ve had men watching the hotel. When she left our room, he grabbed her.”

  “Why was she leaving the hotel alone? She had to know there was a chance of running into Lin and his cronies,” Coop said.

  Knox remained quiet in an attempt to form the words that wouldn’t put both him and Spring in a bad light. How did he explain that he believed she’d run away because of his advances? Coop would understand; he’d been through something similar. But the Thornes were likely to kill him first and ask questions later.

  He took a deep breath and went for broke. “We had a fight. She was upset when she left here. I believe she went to the atrium and probably wasn’t aware of her surroundings.”

  Preston crossed his arms over his massive chest. As an intimidation factor, it went a long way. “What could’ve possibly upset her enough to ignore the threat of Lin?”

  “I believe she thought I was trying to seduce her to get her out of the way,” Knox stated, expression hard, daring anyone to say anything.

  Closing his eyes, Preston drew a ragged breath. Knox imagined the man didn’t want to think of anyone seducing his daughter for any reason. “None of that’s important. If Lin has her, he intends to kill her.”

  “We’ll find her, brother. And when I do, all involved in taking her will die a painful death,” Alastair promised. “I’m done with Lin’s games.”

  “Games? You think what he’s done up to now has been a game?” Coop demanded. “He’s shot a boy, tried to kidnap Chloe, thrown Autumn in a dungeon—all the while promising to burn her. He was responsible for the tomb collapse that almost cost my cousin his life. And he strangled Winnie.” He scrubbed a shaky hand through his blond hair. “I wouldn’t call any of those attacks a game.”

  Alastair nodded. “Poor choice of words on my part. I apologize, son.”

  “It makes this that much more dire in my opinion,” Preston said. “Spring isn’t tough like Autumn, or powerful like Summer and Winnie. She’s sweet and sees the good in everyone.”

  Knox opened his mouth, but Alastair, who stood outside Preston’s line of sight, shook his head in warning.

  Preston gave into his anger and slammed a fist on the nearest surface. “When we get her back, this little scavenger hunt of yours is over, Al. I can’t take any more of the stress associated with the endangerment of my children. I’m sorry if that means Aurora pays the ultimate price, but you can’t continue to risk the children.”

  Before their eyes, Alastair’s face hardened to stone. “I said I’d deal with Lin.”

  “What do you need us to do? Where do we start?” Coop asked in an admirable attempt to keep the peace.

  Knox shook his head and moved to the bank of windows overlooking the city.

  “Pull the mirror from the wall,” Alastair ordered Coop. “Knox, is there something of Spring’s lying around?” He faced Preston. “You know the herbs we need. Find a way to get them from Spring’s garden without the others knowing. The last thing we need is four enraged women on the hunt for Lin’s head.”

  “They could be helpful,” Coop inserted.

  “Do you want to place your fiancée in Lin’s crosshairs, boy?” Alastair snapped. “Because I certainly don’t want to see anything happen to my daughter.”

  Coop’s reply was more of a reality check. “What do you think they will do to us if we don’t tell them?” His question hung in the air, unanswered. None of them wanted to contemplate the rage fest that would follow.

  “We should at least contact Keaton and Zane. They could help,” Knox inserted.

  “Lin won’t make it easy to find her,” Alastair warned the men.

  A sickening dread unfurled in Knox’s gut. The blame for Spring’s capture could be laid squarely on his shoulders. How long would Lin keep her alive? Did he intend to try to syphon off her power like he had done with her sisters? If they couldn’t save her in time, he would never forgive himself. Regret was a bitter pill to swallow.

  “We’ll find her, Knox.” The quiet assurance in Coop’s voice made Knox feel marginally better.

  “Thank you,” he returned gruffly as he handed over an earring of Spring’s. “Can you contact the others? I need some air.”

  * * *

  Alastair watched Knox rush from the room. The young man needed action to keep from going stir-crazy. The feeling was understandable. In the early months and years of Aurora’s stasis, Alastair had been the same. Any inactivity felt like a betrayal to the woman he loved. He needed to be doing something—anything—toward the goal of returning her to full health.


  Across the distance of the suite, he met his brother’s frantic gaze with a steady assurance that Alastair hoped conveyed confidence. Losing his youngest would send Preston over the edge of reason.

  “I hope the Council won’t stand in my way this time, brother. Lin needs to be put down like the rabid animal he is,” he said. When the Council decreed to stay away from Lin, they had also stated that he was still untouchable. Alastair didn’t know what the Council thought Lin could be useful for other than as ground fertilizer, but he would no longer follow their mandates.

  “I’ll make sure you have a free rein, and if they still go against you, I’ll side with you. He’s come after our family for the last time,” Preston agreed.

  Although caution was present in Coop’s blue-gray eyes, he wisely remained silent. Alastair knew what it cost him. After all, the young man was a small-town sheriff with a clear sense of right and wrong. Talk of murder wouldn’t sit well with him.

  “You don’t need to be a part of this, son. I can understand if you want to step back to claim ignorance when it all goes down.”

  “You’re my future father-in-law. How would it be if I didn’t have your back?” Coop asked with an attempt at a smile.

  Alastair almost laughed. Had the situation not been dire, he would have. “Fair enough. Let’s get scrying before too much more time goes by. Lin has other witches and warlocks on his payroll. He’ll block us at every turn. I don’t want him to be able to cover his tracks.”

  “I’ll be back in less than two minutes with the Carlyles and the ingredients we need for the spell,” Preston promised.

  The gag her captors used smelled of dirty socks, and the black cloth sack covering Spring’s head lent to her panic. With her wrists encased in Lin’s magic-busting bracelets, she was as helpless as a newborn babe.

  Rough hands dragged her down smothering-hot hallways. Terrified screams and pleasure-filled moans, at direct odds with one another, echoed around her. The stink of sweat, urine, and sex found its way through the thick hood and into her nostrils. She recoiled from the odor.

  Her mind rejected the horrific impressions it received, refusing to believe she was in such a horrid pit of despair and inhumanity. Yet, each step, every muffled or pain-filled cry, along with the malicious energy pulsing next to her, assured her there was no possible way to deny the terrifying reality of her current predicament.

  After what being dragged or shoved for what felt like miles, she was jerked to a halt. Her hood was unceremoniously ripped from her head. She had mere seconds to peer around her before she was shoved forward into an eight-by-six room. She backed away from a filthy, full-sized bed in horror, and whirled to run, crashing hard into the massive wall of her captor’s chest. Still reeling from the impact, she scrambled to escape.

  Her screams were muffled by the gag, and she tore at her mouth to remove the offending material. A cruel hand fisted in her loose hair. Tears burned the back of her lids at the pain inflicted on her poor scalp. The two men who’d escorted her to her new prison dragged her kicking and screaming to the stained mattress, where they pinned her down and attached her shackles to a chain linked around the iron headboard.

  “After rich man, we have you,” promised the larger of the two. “We both have you.” If his sickening leer hadn’t made his intent clear enough, the painful fingers digging into her breasts did the trick.

  Bile rose up in the back of Spring’s throat and forced its way out. As vomit filled her mouth, she choked. A little voice in the back of her mind reasoned that dying by asphyxiation was better than whatever tortures awaited her at the hands of these monsters.

  Tears for what never would be leaked from the corners of her eyes. She’d never know the loving touch of a man. Never find what her sisters had, or experience the beauty of that type of union. An image of Knox as a young man floated through her mind, his blond hair mussed and blowing in the wind as he beamed up at her where she perched on the wooden fence. It had been her favorite spot to watch him work the horses in the early mornings before school. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to hang onto the beautiful picture as the darkness overtook her and she blacked out.

  12

  The immediate days that followed Spring’s disappearance were sheer hell for Knox. His tortured mind refused to allow him to sleep or eat. All he could envision was her in the hands of that mad man, Lin. Both Zane and Keaton had experienced some of what he was going through, but neither Winnie nor Autumn had been missing for this length of time.

  On day two, the men had made the unanimous decision to tell Spring’s sisters the truth about her abduction. Autumn implemented a round-the-clock scrying routine. Each of the family members took a three-hour shift and would hover over the mirror in an attempt to find any indication Spring was still alive. Preston and Alastair had produced spell after spell to divine a location to no avail.

  The Carlyles, not to be outdone, tore Cartagena apart on the off chance Spring might still be in town. She wasn’t.

  On day eight, Knox broke down. He sat on Spring’s bed and held her pillow to his chest. A deep inhale produced the faint smell of her minty shampoo. It was his last connection to her. The very last item with her own personal scent. He could never replicate it if she were gone for good. His mind shied away from the thought. How would he ever survive the loss? Goddess, he’d been such a fool for so long. Only when it was too late had he realized just how big an ass he’d been. If he thought about the wasted time, he went a little mental.

  He rested back against the elegant, light gray upholstered headboard and stared at the far wall. The overwhelming need to do something—anything—to get her back had given way to the despair of ever finding her alive. His one hope was that she was clever and resilient. More than anyone he’d ever known. With an IQ that put others to shame and a body that turned men’s minds to mush, she had to be able to manipulate her way to freedom at some point, right?

  Tears coursed unchecked as he stared at the far wall of her bedroom where the Eiffel Tower was hand-painted in a metallic silver. He hadn’t known Spring dreamed of Paris until Summer told him yesterday in her need to talk about her sister. So many things had come to light in the week since Spring had disappeared.

  “I’ll take you there, sweetheart,” he rasped aloud. “You come home to me, and I’ll take you on a month-long trip to Paris. We’ll eat croissants and drink coffee at a little cafe with a view of the Eiffel Tower. We’ll stroll the streets hand-in-hand, and I’ll buy you enough souvenirs to fill your room. We’ll listen to local poets, drink the finest wines, and consume the sweetest chocolates. Then I’ll drag you into random alleys and kiss you breathless. Just come back, Spring. Please.” He ended the last on a ragged whisper.

  He curled his body in a protective ball around her pillow, imagining he held her in his arms. Exhaustion finally caught up to him, and he dozed.

  * * *

  Alastair and Preston crowded the doorway to Spring’s room and watched the wretched figure asleep on the bed.

  “He’ll never recover if we don’t find her.”

  “I know, brother. I was the same after…” Alastair was hesitant to mention the time when he’d come home from his imprisonment only to find Aurora had married his brother. Alastair had become an animal, only eating and sleeping when he could no longer go on. “We’ll find her. Lin hasn’t sent a message requesting an exchange for me yet, but he will. When the time comes, I want you to accept that deal.”

  Preston didn’t confirm that he would. He didn’t need to. Spring’s life was more important than Alastair’s any day of the week. Her bright, effervescent personality was the heart of this family. In contrast, Alastair’s dark, brooding presence had a dampening effect on one and all.

  “I also need you to promise me that you’ll revive Rorie. Don’t let her linger in stasis.” His voice was more gruff than intended, but Preston didn’t take offense.

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you.”

&nbs
p; He left his brother’s side to gaze down at Knox. He should’ve been too large for such a feminine bed, but he wasn’t. He seemed right at home. Or maybe it was Alastair’s guilty conscience telling him he was right in pairing the two. Had he not pushed the issue, would they have found their way to one another? And had he done more damage with his quest?

  Watching Knox sleep reminded him of the time he’d first seen him as a child. Knox had that same lost and lonely quality about him now. The only time his isolated air left him was when Spring was near. His niece was Knox’s North Star. While Alastair would never show it, he ached for the young man. He knew all about that type of desolation.

  He waved a hand over the general vicinity of Knox’s brilliant blond head. “Sleep, son. When you wake, you’ll be clear-headed and rested.” He strode back to where Preston stood in the entry. The dark circles under his brother’s eyes told the tale of his own sleeplessness. “You need to rest, Pres. Come on.” The startled look Preston sent him made Alastair smile. “Did you think I forgot your childhood nickname, brother?”

  “No. You forget nothing. It’s more like I’d forgotten. It was all so long ago.”

  Alastair gave into the urge to embrace his younger sibling. “We’re going to get her back. I swear on my life.”

  “I believe you, brother. But what will she have been through by then?”

  A shiver of unease danced along Alastair’s nerve endings. Some would call it premonition. He received them too frequently to call them anything but a portent of things to come. “Hell, most likely.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “She’s stronger than you give her credit for, Pres.”

  “I didn’t spend the time with her that I should have. In my own pain at Aurora’s leaving and eventual stasis, I couldn’t cope.”