by T. M. Cromer
“Yes.” She smiled. “There is that.”
He lifted her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. “And you told me all this why?”
“What if Alex sides with Victor when my brother is brought back? He can’t be trusted, Preston. He’ll do what’s in his best interests, and if it means forming an alliance with Victor, then that’s what he’ll do.”
Her expression was earnest and void of deceit. Selene fully believed what she was saying, and her warning should be taken into consideration as they moved forward with their plans. “Damian assured me he is on the level. But I’ll talk to both him and Alastair. If Castor’s out to screw us, one of them will know right away.”
“Thank you for your faith in me.” Her voice trembled when she spoke, and it hurt Preston to think she’d never held anyone’s trust before.
“No thanks necessary. I’ll always accept your explanations at face value. You’ve done nothing to make me doubt you, Selene.”
She launched herself at him, and he fell back on the mattress, laughing as she rained enthusiastic kisses down on his face.
“I love you, Preston. I love you so much.”
“And I love you. But if you continue to drape yourself across me this way, we are going to screw over the entire magical community by not showing up this afternoon. I don’t have any willpower where you’re concerned, Selene.”
She blushed, and Preston loved the hell out of her reaction. Someone as worldly as her responding like a young maiden tickled him.
“Oh, to hell with it,” he murmured. Drawing her head down to his, he kissed her. If there was no tomorrow for them, he didn’t want to know. He wanted to feel. To experience these last moments without reserve.
He rolled them over until his weight rested on hers as her fingers worked the buttons of his shirt. Preston positioned his fingers, ready to snap and dispose of their clothing, when a sharp rap sounded on their door.
“Time to join the rest of us, you lovebirds,” GiGi called out. “It’s time for the Thornes to save the world.”
Preston swore under his breath and helped Selene stand. She looked as wobbly as he felt. Only this woman made his knees weak and his limbs tremble. “I suppose we have to wait.”
“Is it terrible that I don’t want to?” She ran her hand down the bared skin of his chest and sighed. “I’m being entirely selfish, but I want one more hour with you.”
Fisting his hand in her hair, he gently tugged to expose her throat. He trailed light kisses along the long column of her neck, stopping to nibble on the lobe of her ear. She released a soft moan as he placed his lips against the shell of her ear and whispered, “Me, too.”
Selene wasn’t sure why Preston believed her or openly offered his trust to the degree he had, but she was damned grateful. Alex was out to start trouble, and for a brief moment, she’d believed he succeeded. But why? Why taunt Preston? Why call her deceitful when he was the one who’d betrayed her?
She didn’t have answers and likely wouldn’t get them anytime soon. Yet it made her sad to remember what she and Alex had shared all those years ago. He’d been tender and loving in the months leading up to his disappearing act. They’d spoken of hiding off the grid, using his gift to stay one step ahead of their greatest enemy.
As if her thoughts attracted his attention, Alex turned his head to stare at her. Oddly, he no longer seemed cold. He appeared almost sad when their gazes connected. But a quick blink later, his expression showed nothing of what he was thinking.
She turned away and caught Preston watching the two of them. Because she had nothing to hide, she didn’t look away, and his sudden soft smile eased her misgivings. When he winked and blew her a kiss, she laughed.
She could admit to herself—and only herself—Preston and Alex were very much alike in their playfulness. Perhaps it was why she’d been standoffish in the Otherworld. Maybe she’d feared a repeat of what had happened ten years ago: a man using her for his own personal gains and leaving her without a backward glance. She should’ve recognized the two were cut from different cloths. Preston was open and honest, family-oriented. Alex was secretive and selfish, leaving his motherless son to fend for himself. Two very different individuals, indeed.
“Do you love him as much as you once loved me, darling? Does he know what we were to each other?”
Had she been paying attention, Selene would’ve never let Alex approach her again, but she’d been distracted by Preston’s playfulness. Hell, the subtle shift in Preston’s expression should’ve alerted her.
Pasting on a cold smile, she faced Alex. “We were nothing to each other, Castor. You made sure of that by leaving me to face Victor alone.”
He studied her for a long moment. “I never left you, Selene. You were the one who told Victor I was alive. I barely escaped and was on the run until recently.”
“I never said a word to him until after you left me, and he already suspected the truth. And at that point, he didn’t give me much of a choice,” she said coldly. “Had you taken me with you as you promised, you would’ve saved me years of his viciousness.”
A flash of pain crossed his face but disappeared just as quickly behind an impassive mask. “You’re a liar. You were then, and you are now.” He looked to the person behind her. “Don’t trust her, Preston.” His eyes locked on hers. “She’s liable to cut your heart out while you’re sleeping.”
Preston wrapped an arm across the front of her chest and drew her backwards to rest against him. “Keep your digs and innuendos to yourself, Castor, and stay away from her. She’s under the Thornes’ protection now.”
Tears burned behind the lids she closed. She brought her hand up to grip Preston’s forearm, tightening it to silently convey how much his words meant to her. He gave her a brief squeeze in answer.
A sneer curled Alex’s lips. “She has you buffaloed, man. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Wanker!” Of its own volition, her leg shot out, and her foot connected with his balls. As Alex bent double and squeaked out a breath, Selene gasped and looked around. The shock on everyone’s faces equaled her own surprise.
Quentin was the first to start laughing, followed quickly by Preston.
“Selene Barringer, you are my hero,” Quentin said as he applauded. “I’ve been wanting to do that my entire life.”
“Fuck off, you shit,” Alex snapped. “I went back and tried to make up for my past sins.”
“Too little, too late, asshole.”
Alex gingerly straightened and glared his fury. “I should leave the lot of you to your fate!”
“Didn’t you tell Quentin to remove the stick from his butt?” Alastair said as he joined their small group. “I could suggest the same to you, Castor.”
“She only gave you a light tap, you pansy,” Preston said, shifting Selene behind him and out of strangling distance of Alex’s hands.
“How about I do the same to you and then you can show me how easy it is to shake off the pain?” Alex offered with a growl.
Selene shoved her way through the sea of testosterone and faced him, chin raised high. “I’m not sorry. You absolutely deserved that and more.”
He stared at her for the longest time before something softened in his eyes. “I suppose I did.” When he graced her with a wry, somewhat apologetic smile, her heart picked up its pace. A smiling Alexander Castor was a dangerous man. Especially to the average woman’s heart.
He grew deadly serious, and it didn’t seem to fit the man she’d known. “I don’t know exactly what happened back then, but maybe we were both played. A woman only has that kind of pent-up rage when she’s been wronged.” Regret shone brightly in his brilliant eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back for you, Selene.” He reached to touch her, but Preston knocked his hand away.
“Pretty words, Castor. It remains to be seen if you’re being truthful. You aren’t known for your honesty.”
“Touch me again, Preston, and we’re going to throw down. Threatening ev
il entity or not.”
Preston’s eyes darkened with his anger, and he held up his hand to display a rotating fireball. “I’m game.”
A wave of water doused the flames and soaked Preston’s sleeve as Alastair positioned himself between the two men. “Sorry, fellas, but subduing the Evil comes before the measuring-your-dicks contest.”
Selene pressed her fingers to her mouth to curb an inappropriate laugh. Quentin didn’t bother to hide his amusement, though. He guffawed like Alastair was the funniest comedian alive. Most likely, he enjoyed someone else zinging his father with their sarcasm.
“It’s time,” Damian said with a tone as hard as granite and features to match. “Everyone pair up and be prepared to teleport to the vault location you’ve been assigned.”
Chapter 23
Preston clasped Selene’s hand and led her toward where Georgie Sipanil waited under the oak they’d used to first return to the earthly plane. About ten feet away, he halted and faced Selene.
“Castor seemed legitimately sorry back there. And while I wouldn’t dream of telling you how to live your life, I will urge you to be wary of Greeks bearing gifts.”
“Who’s the Trojan horse in this case? Alex or me?”
He grimaced. “Obviously, I’d place my bet on Castor, and that’s why I’m warning you. His about-face was pretty fast.”
Selene shifted closer until they were chest to chest, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She urged his head down and kissed him in full view of everyone. “Thank you, Preston. You have no idea how much your unconditional love means to me. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”
“So you don’t think I’m telling you to be careful because I’m jealous as hell?”
“You are?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely!”
She laughed and patted the area over his heart. “Alexander Castor holds no appeal for me anymore, agápi mou. Only you do.”
Staring at her, seeing honesty and love reflected back at him, Preston released a ragged breath. “I’m glad. Let’s not keep Georgie waiting. We don’t want her to get cranky.”
He’d lowered his voice to whisper the last bit, but the councilwoman heard him anyway. “I’ll show you cranky, you rascal,” she threatened with an indulgent chuckle. Turning her attention to Selene, she said, “Preston is right. Be careful who you trust, dear.”
Georgie drew out a timepiece to consult “I’m taking you to the Athens vault. I’m afraid Alexander Castor will need to join the three of us. Whatever we find there will be weapons crafted from the Greek gods. Due to his bloodline, he’s got the best chance of wielding them.”
Preston wanted to swear up a firestorm when Georgie called Castor over to their group and explained her reasoning. “Quentin could do the same thing, couldn’t he?”
Alex’s grin held a triumphant edge. “Sorry, buddy. I’m closer to the source, being his father and all.”
When Selene entwined her fingers with Preston’s, he relaxed—and maybe he appeared overly smug with righteousness when Castor’s attention dropped to their joined hands.
They waited the next four minutes in silence. Finally, Georgie spoke. “Now. Join hands. Or rather, Alex, take Selene’s hand.”
It went against every fiber of Preston’s being to allow Castor to touch her, but he stuffed down his possessiveness for the sake of their mission. He didn’t miss Selene’s shudder or that her hand tightened in his. Their gazes locked, and she gave him an encouraging smile. All he could do was give a barely discernible nod. The muscles bunched in his shoulders and neck were too tight for him to do anything more.
Within seconds, Preston’s cells began to warm from the impending teleport, and he closed his eyes. When his body began to cool, he opened them and surveyed his surroundings. The door to the vault was five feet to his left, directly behind Georgie.
“Preston, conjure the candles for the ceremony,” she ordered as she moved to a blank wall. A wave of her hand caused the illusion to fall away. The real vault door appeared as the mirage faded.
“Neat party trick,” Castor said approvingly as he stepped forward.
Georgie gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “You’ll do well to forget what you see after this is over, Alexander.”
“Ms. Georgie, I’m hurt. You used to call me ‘young Alex’ and hold me in high esteem.”
“That was long before you allowed your loved ones to believe you were dead, you rotten boy.” She softened her words with a stroke of her hand down his arm. “Go create the circle. We don’t have a second to lose.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Castor lifted his arms and magically drew a chalk circle an inch outside the pillar candles Preston conjured. Once that was done, he created a pentagram in the center, making sure the points all touched those same candles. He shot Preston a look, giving him the go-ahead to light them as they all stepped within the circle’s boundary.
The wicks smoked a second before fire turned them black. The flames soared high, then settled at a steady height, flickering and snapping when their group of four joined hands and their combined magic met.
“These vaults were designed to only allow one person in at a time, or they will seal shut with all of us inside. After the meeting today, we tweaked the spell to allow three people into the chamber. However, it only gives us forty-eight minutes, and then we must be out.” Georgie gave them all a stern look. “No exceptions. We all must be out. To delay could cost your life. Understood?”
Preston grinned. “Yes, Ms. Georgie.” He handed a timer to Selene. “You get to be timekeeper, my love. But it won’t hurt my feelings any if you leave Alex a few extra minutes inside the vault.”
“Hardy-har-har,” Castor said, without an ounce of laughter in his voice.
“Here I believed you to be the jovial sort, Alex. The last few decades have turned you into a complete bastard.”
“Preston, when this is all over, remind me to smash my fist in your face about, oh say, twenty times or so, won’t you?”
Had it been anyone else, Preston might’ve laughed at the response. As it was, he was beginning to hate Castor with a passion. He suspected the feeling was mutual.
“Enough! You’re acting like recalcitrant children,” Georgie scolded. “We need to concentrate.”
Preston bit his tongue to keep from saying “he started it.” He was sure he would indeed sound like a bratty kid. “Apologies, Ms. Georgie,” he said instead. “Please continue.”
She lifted a silver brow as if to warn him to behave.
He grinned.
She had his number.
Once again, they all joined hands for the length of time it took Georgie to say the reverse cloaking spell and for the vault to grant them access.
“Start your timer, Ms. Barringer,” the councilwoman ordered as she stepped toward the opening. “Gentlemen, follow me.”
Preston had been inside a Witches Council’s storage room before. Each one was vastly different although the general layout was primarily the same. The organization was a key feature and top-notch. Small typed labels identified an item and the date it was created. Below the label, in a smaller font, was a paragraph detailing what the artifact was rumored to do. No dust coated any of the collection, and he assumed the reason was magical.
The geeky antiquities collector in him could’ve stayed lost in this chamber for days. The man whose mission it was to help defeat the Evil knew his time was limited. With a regretful sigh, he began reading the item descriptions on the top shelves while Georgie scanned the items on the lower shelves. Alex began on the wall farthest from them.
“Ms. Georgie, how do you want us to handle an item if we believe it might be useful to the cause?” Preston asked.
“Tell me what you find, and we can determine together if we should hand it off to Selene.”
They worked in relative silence for thirty minutes when they heard Selene call out a ten-minute countdown. It was smart for her to allow an extra few minutes for them to aba
ndon the vault.
“I feel like we’ll never finish in time,” Castor grumbled. There are too many damned magical artifacts here.”
Georgie looked up sharply. “Less complaining, more searching, young man.”
“Seriously, how do we get through all this? Will it scramble the contents when it relocates?” Alex asked.
“We’ll follow this vault to the next location. The interior will remain the same, so remember where you left off,” she said.
They were one minute away from their cutoff time when Preston spotted what might be a useful tool. He was about to reach for it when the floor rumbled. “What the fuck?”
“Get out now!” Georgie hollered over the noise. “The vault is preparing to leap.”
She was behind him, and he knew she’d never make it to the opening if he left her to fend for herself. Without thinking of his own possible demise, he sprinted to her and scooped her up.
As if the sound came down the length of a long tunnel, he heard Selene scream his name. He caught Selene’s horrified expression on the other side of the opening and knew they weren’t going to make it out in time.
Even as the knowledge settled in Preston’s chest, his mind rebelled against death. Not his. He’d been there before. But Georgie’s. She didn’t deserve to go out this way. She should die peacefully in her sleep with her family and friends surrounding her to mourn the magical community’s greatest loss.
The floor shook again, and a ringing began in Preston’s ears. The noise was deafening, and he wanted to throw up his hands as Georgie was doing to protect his eardrums. He staggered for the exit, but the door was two-thirds of the way closed and they were still four yards away.
Who knew this fucking vault was so long?
With a suddenness that halted him in his tracks, all sound ceased and the door slammed into an invisible barrier, leaving a small opening for a person to squeeze through.
“Hurry, goddammit!” Alex shouted. “I can’t hold this for long.”
Weak with relief, Preston bolted for the exit and set Georgie on her feet for her to precede him out the door.
