by T. M. Cromer
Preston rose and crossed to the French doors as the others peppered Damian with questions. Alastair joined him on the terrace.
“Sabrina said Damian needs to ‘eat the evil.’ The idea of him trying to contain it makes me nervous as hell,” he told his brother. Turning to face him, Preston ran a hand through his hair. “I’m worried, Al. Damian is naturally more powerful than Isolde was. As rumor had it, she was nearly unstoppable when she was possessed. If Damian consumes this darkness, he may be harder to defeat should he go off the rails.”
“I know. The questions rolling about in my brain will keep me up tonight.”
“They’re probably the same ones I’m asking myself. Does he go to the Otherworld to fight this? Should we let the Otherworld be decimated by the Evil? What happens if there is no afterlife for our kind?”
“All the souls scheduled to reincarnate would simply cease to exist,” Alastair said heavily. “But my true fear is this: if some manage to escape and be reborn, will they bring the darkness with them?”
“Christ! I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” He moved to the stone railing and rested his elbows on top. He’d been in this garden a time or two. The last was with Isis as recently as past year to oversee the restoration of Mackenzie’s broken mind. He’d forever associate this beautiful landscape with strife. “How do we defeat this enemy, brother?”
“It’ll be a challenge, for sure.”
Preston chuckled at Alastair’s droll tone. Glancing over his shoulder, he had to ask, “Does nothing truly faze you? I swear you sound as if you’re looking forward to the fight.”
“It eases the tediousness of life.”
“Tediousness? You have your one true love back after nearly two decades. You should enjoy the peace for a change.”
“The truth?”
Preston nodded.
Alastair grimaced. “The quiet makes me nervous. I become twitchy when things are going smoothly.”
The knowledge struck Preston as the words sunk in. His brother’s life had been fraught with danger from the onset. He knew nothing else, and when he wasn’t gearing up to battle a new threat, he was at a loss as to what to do with himself.
“This might be more than any of us can handle, Al. It’s bigger than our combined power. You know that, right?”
“Yes. I fear I do.” Alastair copied Preston’s pose with the exception of the tumbler of Glenfiddich in his hand. His brother sipped his drink before he spoke again. “It took the most powerful—the Goddess, a god, and witches from both sides of the veil—to put Isolde in her tomb. When she tried to use Mackenzie as her meat suit, Damian was able to defeat her all on his own.” He turned slightly to meet Preston’s worried gaze. “You’re right to be concerned. We won’t be able to stop him after he consumes the Evil.”
“What’s the solution?”
“Damned if I know.” Alastair sneezed, and Preston curled his hand, throwing out a pulse of magic to stave off the wave of locusts that usually accompanied his brother’s swearing. The fact his brother forgot himself enough to use harsher language was a cause for concern. “You’d think Isis would’ve removed your ability to summon a plague of insects with a simple sentence enhancer.”
Alastair chuckled. “It keeps life interesting.”
“You never told me why you and your offspring were cursed.”
“Why is anyone cursed by the gods or goddesses? I displeased the wrong person.”
“Isis?”
“Ra.”
“I’m going to need that story, brother.”
“Maybe someday.” Alastair took a long pull of his scotch.
Preston grunted. “You’re still putting people off with that damned vague response.”
Before his brother could reply, the atmosphere around them grew thick, and they both straightened. The weight of the air indicated multiple incoming witches.
When the newcomers appeared, joy infused Preston’s entire being. Standing at the base of the terrace steps were his daughters, Autumn, Winnie, Spring, and Alastair’s daughter Summer. They frequently arrived as a unit.
Summer had grown up believing she was Preston’s daughter, a full sibling to the others. When she’d found out his brother was actually her father, she was fit to be tied. He’d never forget the betrayal on her face. But being the forgiving soul she was, she saw her way past it, and she still called him “Dad.” Preston experienced a warm pleasure that she’d turned up to greet him.
Autumn, Preston’s firstborn and a snarky female version of him, stood tall and proud, with one brow lifted as if in challenge. When she saw him, a wide grin split her face and she put her hands on her hips. “I suppose it only took the apocalypse to bring you back, Pops.”
“I don’t know why you didn’t think of it before now,” he quipped. He rushed down the stairs and gave her a fierce hug. “As my favorite troublemaker, you could’ve whipped one up sooner.”
She laughed and hugged him again. “Please tell me you’re back forever.”
“I honestly don’t know. We need to get through this next week first.” He caressed her cheek before turning to Winnie. She was the spitting image of Aurora with the exception of her hair length. She wore her thick black locks long and wavy. The cobalt highlights were a recent addition, and he liked the touch of whimsy.
“Winter Rose, my beautiful girl. If what you’re holding are those delicious cinnamon rolls you usually make, I’ll declare here and now that you’re my favorite. Hang the others.”
She handed off the container to Summer and ran into his embrace. “Then consider me your favorite. Welcome home, Dad.”
He felt tears burn behind his lids as he held her tight. “Thank you, child.”
Releasing her, he shifted his attention to his youngest. The Thorne Jewel, they liked to call her. Spring was stunningly beautiful in all her many facets. Face, figure, spirit, but most importantly, her brilliant mind. “Hello, baby girl.”
Although twenty-eight, she didn’t object to his “baby girl” endearment. They both knew he would continually view her as such despite the fact she’d grown into an independent, intelligent woman who everyone turned to when the chips were down.
“Hi, Daddy.” Her blinding smile chased the clouds from his sky and made him forget the terrible tragedy taking place inside the Otherworld. Spring’s magic was her genuine love of people. Of him—the absentee father. She ran to him and jumped. He caught her with no effort and swung her around as he’d done when she was a child. This had been their ritual any time he returned home from a business trip. “I’m so glad you’re back. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” he said gruffly. He kissed her forehead, finding it difficult to let her go.
Eventually, he did, and he turned to Summer, who was on the verge of laughter. She’d been in the process of slapping Alastair’s hand away from the container when Preston caught her notice. Passing the plastic tub off to Spring, she gave stern instructions to keep it away from her “hog-face” father. Finally, she turned to Preston.
“Hey, Dad.” Her large blue eyes shimmered with happiness, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her off the ground. Summer was the tiniest of the sisters, but she was the one with the biggest heart and the greatest magical power—although she often had a difficult time controlling it. She was getting better with Alastair’s guidance.
“How’s your zoo?” Preston asked after setting her back on her feet.
She snorted a laugh. “You mean my animal sanctuary and veterinary practice?”
He grinned. “Yes, that.”
“Great, actually. Coop is in charge of security now that he’s retired from his sheriffy duties. And by security, I mean wrangling wayward animals, but Morty and Eddie seem to be toeing the line.”
Preston shuddered when he thought of her child-like chimpanzee and that damned perverted elephant. He opened his mouth to reply when a chattering from her jacket pocket distracted him.
Without looking down, she pulle
d out her familiar, Saul, and propped him on her shoulder. “I forgot he was there when I hugged you. I’ll hear it now!” She grimaced as she shot a side glance at the squirrel. “Coop hates when I leave this one behind.”
“Is Saul still threatening to castrate the elephant?” Alastair asked around a mouthful of the cinnamon roll he’d managed to steal.
Summer laughed and nuzzled her head against her pet. “Daily.”
“Can’t say as I blame him.” Preston accepted the treat Winnie handed him and sunk his teeth into the pastry. His eyes rolled back in his head as he savored the rich, sweet taste of doughy goodness combined with the cream cheese sweetness. “You know, you missed your calling, Winnie, my dear. These would make you a fortune if you decided to sell them globally.”
“But to do that, they’d have to be manufactured at a plant and wouldn’t be made with love.” Winnie smiled and pinched off a piece of Alastair’s roll, ignoring her uncle’s scowl. She winked and popped it into her mouth.
“You raised a bunch of heathens, Pres. These girls have no manners. See how she steals food from a starving man?” Al’s words held no heat. “I told you time and again they should’ve gone to boarding school for refinement.”
Husky laughter brought everyone’s attention to the terrace. Aurora and Selene stood side by side, watching them all. Both women were roughly the same height, but it was Selene who attracted Preston’s notice. She seemed bemused by the playful banter and deep affection.
Of their own volition, his feet started up the stairs. Coming back to himself, he stopped and half turned to address his daughters. “Girls, there’s someone special I’d like you to meet.” Four sets of curious eyes turned toward Selene. “This is my new partner in crime, Selene Barringer.”
“Victor’s sister?” There was no mistaking the hardness in Autumn’s voice.
“Half sister,” Selene returned coolly. “And there is no love lost between us, I assure you.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Preston’s eldest crossed her arms over her chest, her ever-present suspicious attitude alive and well.
Winnie slapped her on the arm. “Tums, be nice.” She was the first to climb the stairs. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Selene. Holly sang your praises when she returned from Greece. We owe you for saving her life.”
The reserve eased from Selene’s stiff features, and her mouth curled up on one side. “You own me nothing. Your sister deserved every chance at happiness, and I was honored I could help toward that end.”
Summer, who had joined their small group, impulsively hugged Selene, surprising a squeak from her. “Holly’s my twin, and I’m doubly grateful. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“Where’s Gigi?” Aurora asked as she shifted sideways to make room for Mackenzie to join them. “I’d have thought she’d be the first to arrive.”
“She’s instructing my cousins on proper babysitting procedure.” The smooth, deep voice came from beside Spring mere seconds before the cloaking spell concealing Knox Carlyle dropped.
“Way to make an entrance!” Mackenzie laughingly applauded. “Tell me you weren’t hiding to get out of baby duty.”
“I can neither confirm nor deny.”
“Not without incriminating yourself, anyway.” She rolled her eyes. “Never a dull moment in this family.”
“Good to see you again, Mack.” Knox gave her a one-armed hug. With a reserved smile, he held out a hand to Selene. “Ms. Barringer, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Selene looked stupefied as she stared up at him. It wasn’t hard to understand why. Knox Carlyle was hands down the most attractive man in existence. His golden hair brushed a pair of wide, well-defined shoulders, and his azure eyes were set in a perfectly symmetrical face with sculpted cheekbones, a Grecian nose, and full winsome smile. Added to his unbearably good looks was his keen intelligence and challenging stare. He was uniquely flawless in appearance, and Spring’s match in every way. It was difficult to say which of the two was more jaw-droppingly gorgeous.
Amusement lit Spring’s eyes, and she placed her arm around Knox’s waist. “He’s a sight, isn’t he? He stuns women stupid when he smiles.”
A sweep of color tinged Knox’s cheeks at his wife’s praise. “Knock it off,” he growled.
“Darling, you really should drop the glamour and let your pirate scar show so women don’t throw their panties at your head.” Spring teased.
Selene’s laugh was unexpected. “A pirate scar would only make him more irresistible, I’m afraid.” A sparkle lightened her chocolate-colored eyes to dark honey, and Preston was completely entranced.
He didn’t miss Autumn’s narrowed-eyed stare or Winnie’s mischievous grin, but he didn’t acknowledge their reactions, either.
Preston shook hands with his son-in-law. “I see you still aren’t letting Spring out of your sight. It’s good to know some things will never change.”
“You charged me with taking care of her, sir. I don’t take my promises lightly,” Knox said with a wide smile for his mate.
Preston heard Selene’s sharp intake of breath. Leaning close, he murmured, “My daughter tried to warn you. But please, if there’s going to be any panty throwing, let them be at my head, my love.”
She compressed her mouth in a straight line, but the humor lurking in her eyes betrayed her.
After five minutes and a few more hugs, Gigi arrived with Alastair’s remaining children and Quentin Buchanan.
Holly clapped her hands in one loud, echoing slap. “Well, now that the gang is all here, whose ass are we kicking?”
Chapter 7
Selene wasn’t sure she was comfortable being in the midst of so many Thornes. They had every reason to despise her based on Victor’s past sins, and yet they all treated her to a welcoming smile—with the exception of Autumn, but Selene figured she was a hard sell.
Holly and her husband, Quentin, were especially thrilled to see her and took her aside to thank her once again for helping them.
“I don’t know how we can ever repay you, Ms. Barringer, but you have my undying gratitude for saving Holly and Frankie,” Quentin said.
“Nonsense. There is no need for repayment. I’m thrilled you’re all living your best lives.”
It was rumored Quentin was a descendent of Zeus, and Selene found it easy to believe. He was taller than the average man, standing around six-and-a-half feet tall. In a style similar to Knox, he wore his hair long. The thick brown waves begged a woman to run her hands through them. Quentin had a flirty way about him, and he never seemed serious. But his easy charm was a front for the deeper passion lurking beneath. A passion reserved only for his small dark-haired wife.
Selene had been drawn to him from the first. He was a yummy treat—not unlike old Agnes’s baklava. No matter how bad it was for her, she’d gladly eat an entire tray. However, it had only taken one quick glance to see the unbreakable bond between the pair of them. Selene had been envious then, as she was envious now. Not enough to wish them ill, but enough to be saddened she’d never found her mate while she was alive.
Her gaze drifted to Preston, where he stood in deep discussion with his sister and his daughters. As if he sensed her regard, he looked her way. He halted mid-sentence, drawing the attention of the group to her. Selene couldn’t hear what Autumn said, but it made her father flush and grin.
Without a doubt, Preston Thorne was a handsome devil. Not as stunning as Knox Carlyle or as seductive as Quentin, but definitely attractive. His easy confidence made him even more so.
As he continued his conversation, his gaze continually darted to her, making Selene inwardly preen. When this mess was resolved—if it could be resolved—she’d put him out of his misery and tell him how she felt about him. Until then, she would try to keep her secrets to herself.
Holly inched closer to Selene. “I see you’re having a difficult time keeping your eyes off Uncle Preston,” she teased.
“He’s a compell
ing man,” Selene replied. “I’d have to be dead not to notice him.”
Quentin laughed as Holly winced.
Selene realized what she’d said, and she chuckled. “That didn’t come out as intended.”
“Uh huh.” Holly’s lips quirked, and she turned on her heel, saying over her shoulder, “I need to conjure some coffee and find a bathroom, not necessarily in that order. Tell the others to get it in gear. I’m not comfortable leaving Frankie alone too long.”
Quentin caught up with Holly and scooped her into his arms. “Liz and Rafe will not allow anyone to harm our child, my prickly pear. We should treat this as a vacation and take advantage of our alone time.” He shot a wink at Selene and only grunted slightly when his wife tweaked his nipple.
“Put me down, you tool. We don’t have time for flirting.”
“Hol, don’t be ridiculous. There’s always time for flirting.” He dropped a kiss on her mouth and swept her through the terrace doors.
Selene sighed at Quentin’s romantic response. She wanted someone exactly like him. Someone outrageous who would temper her seriousness. A man willing to steal a kiss regardless of the fact there were ten other people mingling about.
She felt Preston’s presence at her back before he spoke. “They are the most romantic couple I know. Mainly due to Quentin’s fun-loving nature.”
Facing him, she smiled. “Oh, I think Holly would surprise you. That young woman has a wild side she doesn’t let many people see.”
He smiled in return. “I believe my brother can attest to that fact. She drove him to distraction as a teenager, constantly sneaking out to meet Quentin. Alastair once said he’d have bound her powers and locked her in a convent if he thought it would’ve done any good.”
“I also said she’d have the nuns dancing to her tune in nothing flat,” Alastair added. He’d joined them in the middle of Preston’s explanation. “If we weren’t pagan already, we’d all be excommunicated because of it.”
