by T. M. Cromer
She supposed she should have a conversation with Preston someday and thank him for securing her future. He’d never mentioned it—almost as if he’d forgotten the kindness that meant the world to her—and he acted as if he had no expectations of repayment. The man was an enigma.
She wondered whatever had happened to the antique artwork. Had he turned around and sold it to another? Made a tidy profit? For sure, he’d acquired it for a steal.
As she strolled around the garden of the sorting area, she became nervous. Although it was true all time was suspended here, the same couldn’t be said of the world outside this garden. Preston could be gone mere minutes or for countless hours, maybe even days, while she waited.
The curtain surrounding the garden was of a mystical nature. Not a true cloth material, but an invisible barrier that didn’t allow one to see beyond what the Goddess decided to project. So anywhere Selene looked, there was no life other than a handful of deer and the occasional rabbit in the distance.
When the curtain shimmered and a golden light formed the outline of two people—a man and woman—Selene held her breath, praying Preston was returning to her.
He stepped through the magical wall with his great-grandmother, Evelyn. The haggard expression on his face tugged at Selene’s heart, and she rushed to his side. “What’s happening, Preston?”
Surprise lit his eyes as he stared down at her. She knew the reason; she’d never called him by his given name in all the time they’d known each other. She saved it for those long, lonely nights by herself, when no one was around to lecture her on the impropriety of her amorous thoughts about him.
“Selene, this is Evie. She’s going to accompany us on our journey. She’s a Guardian. Or was, at least.” He smiled down at the petite blonde woman with great affection. “Although, I suppose your powers have been returned to you once more for this particular problem, haven’t they?”
Evelyn looked harried and upset. Preston’s teasing manner did nothing to relieve the tension around the other woman’s eyes. “For now,” she said briskly. “Let’s get this done. I don’t want Nathanial facing this threat alone.”
“Isis has assured me he’s immune to the Evil. It’s why he needs to be here to try to temper its impact.” His words were meant to soothe, but Selene suspected Preston, too, was having a hard time believing Nathanial would be safe. “But I agree, we need to stop this in its tracks.”
“Why am I here?” Selene asked, curious what she could do.
“You’re the brains of this operation, my dear.” Some of his standard charm returned, and it made her stupidly happy.
Shoving down her ridiculous giddiness, she looked at Evelyn for confirmation.
Preston’s great-grandmother wasn’t like a normal elderly person. In fact, she appeared no older than forty. Her skin was unlined, and her golden hair was shiny, falling in long wavy layers around her shoulders. She had a body to cause envy. Even after children, she didn’t possess an ounce of extra weight. Of course, this might be due to her Guardian status. They needed to be in top shape to fight, if ever the need arose. Ordained by the gods, Guardians were the badasses of the magical universe, second only to the all-powerful Aether.
“He’s partially correct,” Evelyn said with an affectionate smile for Preston. “We can use any input you might have to find a way out of this. But primarily, he’s taking you to safety.”
Selene glanced between them, a frown tugging her brows down. “Why me? Why not pull your other family members out?”
His impatient scowl was her answer. “We don’t have time for this, Selene. We have to get to the Aether and make a plan of attack.”
“Damian Dethridge?” Selene had heard of the man, but she’d never had the opportunity to meet him in person. The dastardly Victor had feared incurring the wrath of so formidable a being.
“Yes. We hope he has some insight.” Evelyn must’ve heard the unease in her voice because she smiled. “He’s actually a lovely young man.” She shot Preston a side glance then looked back at Selene. “Maybe I’ll introduce the two of you. He seems like your type of fella.”
“Over my dead body,” Preston growled.
Selene was hard-pressed not to point out he was dead.
Evelyn caught her eye, and the two women shared a smile.
“I saw that.” He gave them both a warning look. “Now come. Every minute we spend in here is an hour we’ve lost in the Otherworld.”
They followed him to a large oak tree, where he drew a knotted birch wand from the cross-body bag he sported. He reached for Selene and gestured for Evelyn to hold her opposite hand. Then he traced a symbol visible only to him and wordlessly cast his spell. Fire flared to life, burning away the invisible shield covering the tree’s opening. One moment, they were inside the holding area; the next, they were stepping out of the tree into an exquisite English garden next to an enormous old manor house.
“Where are we?” Selene whispered, unsure exactly why she was being quiet other than it felt like she should.
* * *
Preston squeezed Selene’s hand, realizing this was only the second time she’d ever let him touch her. It seemed like he’d been chasing her for a millennium in the Otherworld, but it took the downfall of their home for her to give him pay any attention to him. And still, she questioned why he chose to save her. The woman was completely oblivious to his deep feelings for her.
“We are on the Drake estate,” Evie answered for him. A sad expression tightened her features as she looked up at the house she’d lived in for over half a century.
“Are you all right, Evie?”
She released a heavy sigh and nodded. “It’s surreal being back here after all this time.”
Evelyn had followed Nathanial shortly after his death. Although by earth’s standard she’d been deceased a year, time wasn’t the same across the dimensions, and to her, it would feel as if she’d been gone a good ten or more.
“I know you’d like to visit with Mackenzie and Sebastian as much as I would, but we don’t have a spare minute to lose.”
“I know, darling boy. Let’s go find Damian and figure out what’s contributing to this mess.”
Before they could set off toward the neighboring estate, the terrace doors were flung open and a small sprite of a child tore down the stone steps. A beaming smile graced her perfect little face, and her black hair flew behind her as she raced toward them.
“Grandma Evie! Grandma Evie!”
Evelyn met her halfway and swept the girl up in her arms. “Sabrina!”
“I knew you were coming. I told Papa, but I’m not sure he believed me.”
The Aether appeared at the top of the stairs. Tall, dark, and dangerous, he moved like a jungle cat, ready to pounce should someone threaten his child. “I always believe you, beastie.”
Damian’s dark hawk-eyed gaze zeroed in on Selene, and Preston heard her sharp intake of breath.
“Wow,” Selene murmured.
Her reaction was no different than that of thousands of women who’d entered Damian Dethridge’s orbit. Still, a tiny jab of jealousy punched Preston, and he had to fight the overwhelming urge to remove her from the Aether’s presence. Instead, he released her hand and stepped forward to greet his long-time friend and distant cousin.
“Preston. It’s good to see you again.” Damian pulled him into a hug and heartily pounded on his back. “Not that I’m not thrilled you’re here, but I’d like to know why. Especially with so powerful a Guardian by your side.” He hugged Evie tightly and kissed her forehead. The affection they shared was that of mother and child. Understandable, since she’d raised him after Nathanial stole him away to safety, protecting him from Isolde, who’d craved his unlimited power.
“Evil has invaded the Otherworld,” Preston stated grimly. “It’s poisoning the place, and Isis is worried it will decimate her plane. Not to mention, obliterate the existing souls.”
Damian stiffened and gave him a sharp look. “That’s what
she said? Obliterate the souls?”
“Yes. Do you know what it means?”
“It sounds like my mother is back to her wicked ways.”
“No. I don’t think she had anything to do with it this time.” Preston met his contemplative gaze. “I’m not saying it didn’t piggyback a ride, but it’s not controlling her. Isis was sure of it.”
“Lovely. So where the bloody hell do we start?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, Dethridge. But I suggest we call Alastair. If anyone can find trouble without trying, it’s my brother.”
Chapter 3
At precisely 2:37 in the morning, Alastair’s phone rang. He wasn’t one prone to nerves, but to be awakened in the early hours wasn’t normal, and his heart beat faster at the disturbance.
Lifting the receiver of the house phone, he growled, “What is it?”
“Is that any way to greet your brother, Al?”
Preston’s amused voice registered, and a wave of happiness washed over him. “Pres? Is it really you?”
“It is. Isis has allowed me to come play for a while.”
Alastair snapped his fingers, illuminating the room with soft glowing candlelight. “Why didn’t you teleport directly here?”
“And be murdered by your henchmen on my first day as a living, breathing human being again? I think not.”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he glanced to his right. His wife, Aurora, eased into a sitting position as she rubbed the sleep from her beautiful sky-blue eyes. She looked delightfully rumpled with her delectable body wrapped in only the ivory sheet and her short, mussed hair. The cobalt spikes shot out in every direction and made her appear like a startled—but extremely sexy—faerie queen.
Alastair clasped her hand and placed her palm flat on his chest, over his heart. “Where are you, Preston?”
Rorie’s fingers spasmed, and her eyes rounded. It wasn’t every day you learned your deceased husband was alive. Alastair’s mouth curled in wry amusement at her reaction.
“I’m at the Drake estate. Damian and Evie are with me.”
“Evie?” His great-grandmother had passed last year, breaking the hearts of all who had known and loved her. “She’s back, too? What about Nate?”
“I’m afraid not. It’s a long story, but we need your help.”
“Right.” Alastair shoved aside the weight of disappointment. “Can you spare me ten minutes?”
“Yes, but only that.”
The seriousness in Preston’s tone sent a sizzle of awareness dancing along Alastair’s spine. Whatever was going on was dire, indeed. “I’ll be there in five.”
“Thank you, Al.”
“It’s so good to hear your voice, little brother.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
After hanging up, he tried to get his wayward emotions under control. Preston’s return harbored bad news, but despite the threat, Alastair was thrilled. Shoving aside his euphoria, he shifted to face Rorie.
Love shimmered in her incredible eyes, and he couldn’t resist the urge to drop a soft, lingering kiss on her mouth. Satisfaction unfurled inside him when her lips clung to his and her amorous energy caressed him. This was the part of being an empath he enjoyed the most—feeling her honest emotions. She never needed to put on an act, and should she try, he would see right through it.
Alastair ran tender fingertips along her jawline. “Preston needs us, my love.”
“You say ‘us’ as if he specifically asked for me to join in your upcoming adventure,” she said dryly. Her crisp English accent added to her witty comeback.
“Are you telling me you want to stay behind?” Alastair knew full-well she’d never let him go on his own. Not because she didn’t trust him, but because after nearly twenty years apart, it was difficult to face even a few hours of separation.
Her answer was to stand in all her naked glory and snap her fingers.
Alastair sighed his disappointment when she covered up her beautiful trim body. “I hate when you do that.”
“Answer you by getting dressed?”
“Dress in general.”
Rorie laughed and reached for her cellphone. “Should I call the others?”
By ‘the others’ she meant his sister, GiGi, and her husband, Ryker, knowing Alastair had his brilliant son, Nash, on speed dial if it came to a crisis.
“Not yet. Let’s see what Preston’s about first. If he decides we need to involve the entire family, we will.”
Preston waited on the expansive terrace for Alastair and Aurora, knowing she’d show up with his brother come hell or high water. In this case, the former. He didn’t have long to wait.
Around him, the air crackled, and seconds later, the curtain of space was folded back to allow them through the rift between Alastair’s home and the Drakes’ estate. His older brother created static in the atmosphere whenever he teleported. Alastair was a formidable warlock with the power to seriously wound using only an elegant flick of his wrist. Preston, although similarly gifted, never had the temerity to pit his abilities against his older brother’s.
Preston grinned in welcome.
Alastair wore a matching smile.
They embraced for the first time in over a year.
“It’s good to see you, Pres,” Alastair said gruffly. “Goddess, how I’ve missed you.”
“I’ll admit I spy on you from time to time. It makes me feel better, knowing you’re all safe.” He shrugged. “I’d leave the Otherworld in a New York minute if it meant protecting any of you. But never tell Isis, or she might remove my magic.”
“She’s aware.” His brother’s tone radiated his certainty on the matter.
“I’ve no doubt.”
They shared a laugh.
Next, Preston greeted Aurora. After giving her a tight hug, he held her hands out to her sides to visually inspect her person. She’d gained a few pounds in the interim and appeared to be in good health. He was happy to see her looking hale after the extended stasis. “You are still as stunning as ever, Rorie.”
“And you’re still very much a flatterer, Preston, dear.” She unclasped their hands and pressed hers to his shoulders as she kissed his cheek. “Welcome back.”
“I’m not sure for how long, but come on. We have a lot to discuss, and there’s someone I want you to meet.”
One of her dark brows lifted. “She’s important to you. I can tell by your tone.”
“Yes.” He grimaced. “Apparently, I had to die to find my one true love.”
“I’m crushed.” A smile teased her lips, and she leaned her head on his shoulder as she wrapped her arm through his. “Here I thought I was your one true love.”
“You have the honor of being my first love,” he assured her gallantly.
Aurora and Alastair had been enamored with one another from the time they were young teens. They’d separated for a few years when her family returned to England, but the two of them found ways to sneak and meet in private. But when Alastair had disappeared during the witches’ war and was later presumed dead, Preston and Aurora had grown close in their mutual grief. After a time, they’d married and began a family.
Alastair’s sudden return had shocked them all. There was never any real contest between the brothers. Although Preston’s feelings for Aurora were those of a man for his wife, she’d never loved him in return, or perhaps she had, but not with the all-consuming passion she held for Alastair. And when his brother had come for her, she’d run away with him.
Alastair stepped forward and slapped him on the back. “Stop all this drivel, or I’ll lose what’s left of my dinner.”
Preston gave him a light elbow to the ribs. “Shut it, Al. I’m flirting with my wife.”
“Ex-wife. And not to put too fine a point on it, but you’re dead, so technically, she’s your widow.”
With a snort of laughter, Preston led them into the house.
Selene was perched on the settee, taking tea with the Drakes and Evie. Her exotic eyes widened
when she saw Alastair.
“Ms. Barringer.” His brother inclined his regal blond head. “A pleasure to see you again.” A look of profound sadness passed across his face. “I never had the opportunity to thank you for your sacrifice. My children are my world, and your selflessness saved them. I cannot tell you how sorry I am you had to pay such a great price.”
“Water under the bridge, and all that.” Selene waved a hand. “How is Holly? I imagine her child must be a toddler by now, no?” She frowned slightly, a mere ripple of her brows. “It’s so difficult to tell time between our worlds.”
“Holly is doing well. Young Francesca is a handful and the apple of her father’s eye,” Alastair assured her with a warm smile. “Quentin calls her Frankie, and I’m sure it’s to spite me. My granddaughter turned out to be as mischievous as he is.”
“More so,” Aurora added.
The warmth of Selene’s smile struck Preston right in the chest, and he sucked in a sharp breath. He didn’t miss Alastair’s amused side glance.
Damian stepped forward to greet Alastair and Aurora, as did Sebastian and Mackenzie Drake.
Alastair took the spare moments to hug their hostess and slap their host on the back.
Preston suspected that whenever his brother witnessed the couple’s interactions, he felt the euphoria of a well-made match. Mackenzie and Sebastian were his latest success story. To first encounter them—the flamboyant American model with the shockingly bright red hair and the intensely driven English laird—one wouldn’t think the two would mesh well. But they’d be wrong. The two were a match made in heaven, and the loving looks they sent one another proved it. Of course, their romance had been helped along by his busybody brother, Alastair. The man couldn’t resist matchmaking.
