by T. M. Cromer
“Stonehenge. I’ll go there first to cloak the area and put out a general feeling of ill-will to deter anyone from venturing too close. Give me five minutes to clear the area and create an entrapment spell for when we teleport those bastards in, then follow with Quentin.”
“When do you want the rest of us to join you, Damian?” Selene asked.
“Fifteen minutes should do it. We’ll have secured the others, and will be ready for the ceremony to cross the veil.”
With a carefree smile, Alex said, “See you there, my friend.”
Preston collected all the magical tools they might need for the ceremony and set them on the tiled table. He crossed the terrace and signaled his brother. Within a minute, Alastair joined him. He had an air of barely suppressed excitement, and his eyes sparkled with mischief.
“I swear, Al, you live for this type of danger.”
“It makes life more interesting, that’s for sure. I only wish I could take Spring’s place.”
From his pocket, Alastair pulled a black gold ring and handed it over. The tanzanite stone looked to be just shy of a carat. The design was exceptional, with the illusion of flames licking up the sides. The tips created the prongs needed to hold the jewel in place. The piece was wide, not delicate in the slightest, and made a handsome man’s ring.
“I would wear this all the time if I thought you wouldn’t spy on my conversations,” Preston said, half jokingly.
Alastair laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Perhaps we can add an on/off switch if you decide you wish to keep it.”
“Brilliant idea.”
“Wear it with my blessing, little brother.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to hear from this side of the veil, Al?”
“It’s doubtful. Rest assured I’ll be pacing until there’s no grass left inside the Stonehenge monument. They’ll probably need to tranquilize me.”
“I know you want in on the action, but it’s better if you’re on this side for when we return. That way, if anything goes wrong, you can take care of the problem immediately.”
Alastair’s sapphire eyes darkened to a deeper blue. “Make no mistake, Preston. If, or when, our enemies return, they will be dealt a death blow. I’ll not allow them to live to cause harm again.”
“You’re talking murder, Al.”
“I’m talking swift justice. They were already slated to die. I’ll simply be sending them back to hell.”
There was a cold finality to Alastair’s statement, and Preston suppressed a shiver. Something dark and angry had resided in his brother ever since he’d escaped from Zhu Lin’s dungeon all those years ago. No one, not even Aurora, had been able to heal him. Rarely did Alastair show that side of him, but Preston was under no illusions. He knew very well it existed, simmering just below the civilized mask his brother wore in polite company.
Searching his own conscience, Preston couldn’t say he cared all that much about the death of their enemies. They’d all done the Thornes irreparable harm at one juncture or another. “If you torture Lin or Victor more than the others in the process, I’ll be appreciative,” he drawled.
Alastair laughed, then gave him a tight hug. “I love you, Pres. Be careful.”
“Aren’t I always?”
“No.” His brother snorted. “I remember a time when you ran off to confront Delphine and ended up dead for your troubles.” Alastair rubbed his chest. “It felt as if I were having a heart attack that night. It was as if I could feel the bullet ripping through me. The fear for you and Nash nearly tore me in two.”
He spoke of the prediction Delphine had made when the premonition struck her prior to turning into a murderous bitch.
“I never knew you experienced the pain of my death,” Preston said softly. It had been swift, and he’d barely registered what hit him as he fell to the floor at Delphine’s feet. Now, knowing the pain had transferred to his brother, remorse coursed through him.
Alastair gave a mild shrug as if the incident was minor, but his voice held a rough edge when he said, “Rorie was there. I never spoke of it to anyone else.”
“Christ,” Preston muttered. “Well, I hope you never experience anything like it again.” But the likelihood that it would happen was great. As an empath with elevated powers, Alastair would be like a lightning rod for these type of physical and emotional events.
Since his brother’s desire to change the subject was as obvious as the carefree arrogance he wore, Preston held up his ring. “Is everyone else’s as striking as mine?”
“Damian was with me when I conjured each one, and we infused them with the wearer’s elemental magic. We thought shaping the metal into the element of the wearer would be an interesting feature of the rings.” Alastair lifted his hand and showed his pinky ring. “We replicated them from the one I created years back.”
“Theoretically, owing to the fact we have a bit of Damian’s magic, ours should be amped up on the other side of the veil?”
“Precisely.”
Preston chuckled. “You wily bastard.”
“Don’t disparage our saintly mother,” Alastair mock scolded. He grew serious. “Whatever advantage we have, I’ll use if it means my family returns safely to the fold.”
They were caught by the sound of a woman’s throaty laugh, and they turned as one to look down at the garden.
Selene.
Preston’s heart rate kicked up as he watched her conversing with Holly. His desire to rush to her, sweep her into his arms, and hide her away for a millennium or more overwhelmed him. With a concerted effort and curl of his fingers around the edge of the stone railing, he held himself in check.
“You need to marry that woman when you return, little brother.”
He glanced at Alastair. A smile curled his lips as he noted the admiring look his brother shot her way. “She really is one in a million, isn’t she, Al?”
“She is.” A sly expression crossed his face. “I mean, she’s no Rorie, but she’s definitely exceptional.”
“Rorie’s with the right man. And if I have my way, Selene will be, too.”
Chapter 31
Their group teleported to Stonehenge as per Damian’s instructions. Zhu Lin, Delphine, Katherine, and Harold Beecham were all present and accounted for. The only two missing were Quentin with Victor Salinger.
“Where the devil are they?” Alex paced back and forth, his worry for his son getting the better of him.
“He’ll be here, Castor,” Holly said softly. “Quentin is as reliable as the day is long.”
He smiled at her certainty. He couldn’t have picked a better mate for his son if he’d spent the entirety of his life searching.
Ten more minutes crept by at a snail’s pace, and his concern grew exponentially. “Fuck it. I’m going to look for him.”
Alastair shook his head. “Give him another five minutes, Castor. He won’t fail.”
“It’s not failure I’m worried about, Al!” he snapped. “He’s dealing with a soulless bastard who would shoot his own sister in the head!”
Selene sucked in a breath, and Alex hung his head, regretful of his outburst. “Jesus. I’m sorry, darling. I’m…”
“It’s all right.” She touched his arm. “But Holly and Alastair are correct; Quentin won’t fail. Like you, he doesn’t know how.”
GiGi sauntered forward and patted his cheek. Her sassy smile and dancing eyes reminded him of the days when she was a teenager who trailed after their reckless band of hooligans, demanding to be included. “He’s a chip off the old block, Castor.”
Whatever he would’ve said was cut off by the appearance of a haggard Quentin and an extremely bloodied, worse-for-wear Victor Salinger.
“He took some persuading, but then stupidly thought he’d give escape a try,” Quentin told them with a one-shoulder shrug. “We played a game of cat and mouse for a while. You can guess who the rodent was.”
Alex laughed his delight, proud as punch of the man his son had become.
Alex approached Damian. “You’re up next, my dear friend.”
All humor disappeared from their group. This next bit would be tricky. The Aether needed to cross the barrier to the Otherworld, call the Evil to him to consume, and meet them back here to pass through the veil to the Netherworld.
Damian looked ill at ease and too solemn for words. He met the serious gazes of those present. Through their new telepathically linked rings, he relayed his instructions.
“Be ready with the teleportation disc and the spell. There is an off chance we might get burned as we transition from one plane to the next.” He addressed GiGi directly. “Have the mending stone at hand for any who need it.”
“I’ll have my wand and herbs for that. We’re keeping the mending stone charged for you, Damian.” She placed her hands on her hips and stared at him with challenge in every line of her body.
Alex nearly laughed. Who in their right mind would challenge the Aether the way she had?
Damian cast him a sardonic look, having easily read his mind.
“Are we not permitted to know whatever you have planned?” Zhu Lin called out from his invisible prison. His large, heavy-lidded eyes were shrewd and coldly calculating. At roughly five-ten, he had a casual sophistication enhanced by his silver-shot black hair. He didn’t look like he had been affected by any of this. His arrogance would indicate he’d become the Underworld’s ruler when the time came.
“No.” Alastair uncrossed his arms and sneered at the other man. “You aren’t entitled to know a fucking thing!”
Castor, Damian, Preston, and Quentin had already anticipated Alastair’s uncontrolled rage and the subsequent swear word. Like synchronized dancers, they threw an arm up and fisted a hand to stop the locusts.
“You’ve lost your polish, Thorne. Perhaps when this is over, you’d be my guest once again.” Lin’s insinuation that he’d eagerly lock Alastair in his dungeon a second time set Castor’s teeth on edge. The fool had a death wish.
Zhu Lin’s gaze shifted to Alex, and a slyness entered his eyes. “And we’ll happily include your friend Mr. Castor.”
“You can’t build a prison strong enough to keep me. Just ask your pal Salinger there,” Alex taunted. With an airy wave at Victor, he asked, “How’s it going, Vic?”
The dead-eyed stare Selene’s half brother turned on him sent a shiver the length of his body. Victor was the one to watch the closest.
Salinger turned his head slightly and focused on Selene. Hatred blazed, giving life to his eyes. “Does he know what I did after he abandoned you, sister dear? The price you paid for your betrayal of our family?”
Preston stepped in front of her and cut off Victor’s direct line of sight. “Shut your mouth, Salinger. We’re all aware of your mind games, and they won’t work here.” He faced Damian. “Get on with it. I want this over before morning.”
* * *
Until that moment, the Aether had been laid back and silent as he watched the animosity being slung back and forth. But Damian knew it was time to step in and put a stop to the bickering since it was becoming painful for both himself and Alastair on the empath front.
Raising his hand, Damian balled it into a fist. Those inside the enchanted ring were confused at first, but soon enough, they fell to their knees, gasping for air. He strolled forward until he was within a foot of the invisible cage. “Do you know who I am?”
Heads nodded and eyes turned wary.
“Good. If you wish to live, you’ll do exactly as I say. Defiance on your part will not be tolerated.” He squeezed his hand tighter. His victims began to sweat as they struggled to draw a breath and their eyes bugged out. “Nod again if you understand.”
They gave a collective nod of their heads.
“Excellent.” He released them from his hold. “I can crush your lungs or snap your neck with a mere thought. And your favorite Goddess won’t save you this time.”
As if on cue, a light split the blue sky and golden sparks spilled forth. When the rip sealed shut, Serqet stood at the center of the stone circle. She summed up the situation with a single glance, then sauntered over to Damian. “Hello, my children.” She greeted them as if it were at a garden party. “I expect your full cooperation for our adventure. You might say the fate of the world depends on it.”
Their confusion was understandable. Throughout the years, Serqet had lingered on the sidelines, whispering into her minions’ ears and encouraging them to bring down the Thorne family. To see her about-face was disorienting. Damian could hear their thoughts, how they all wondered if this was a trick on his part or hers. They fully expected her to come to their aid.
He gestured Nathanial and Evie over. “These two are Guardians. I’m leaving them in charge of your motley crew. They not only have the ability to subdue you, but they can fry your insides with a few well-chosen words. They are unstoppable.” He smiled, and it didn’t hold a smidgeon of friendliness. Delphine shivered and Harold Beecham broke out in a cold sweat. The Salingers and Zhu Lin played it cool, but wariness was behind their eyes. “Do behave. You don’t want me for an enemy.” He didn’t say he’d considered them all enemies from the second they went after the Thornes.
Turning his back on the enchanted circle, he bowed low to Serqet. “My queen. I’m ready whenever you are.”
She held out a hand, and he drew her close, lacing her arm through his.
Once again, a rift opened, and together, they stepped through it to the Otherworld.
Isis greeted them in the sorting room, and Damian absently noted the fatigue and worry in the barely discernible lines around her eyes and mouth.
“Is Set here?”
“He is,” she confirmed with a tight smile. “He’s to join us shortly, child.”
“The three of you have enough firepower to draw this thing close?”
“Actually, a mob has already formed on the other side of the veil.” A frown puckered her finely arched brows. “I’m uncertain how they knew you were coming, but there was a ripple of excitement through the crowd.”
“The Evil is already anticipating taking over my body,” he concluded grimly.
“That’s the impression I received. Yes.”
Damian had never seen the Goddess so subdued, but he understood why she now was. The task in front of them was fraught with peril, and they had no idea if this plan of theirs would work.
“What is your backup plan if I go nuclear, Exalted One?”
She knew what he was asking. If the worse happened and the Evil infected him like it had Isolde, he wanted to know if she had a plan to stop him. Her grim expression said it all, but she spoke anyway. “There is none.”
“Fucking great.”
Chapter 32
“This is a foolish idea.” Set said as he joined the trio in the holding area, looking like he wanted to kick puppies and drown kittens. There was a barely controlled vibe radiating off him. It made Damian want to kick puppies and drown kittens.
“Got a better one?”
He glared at Damian. A mere human should never dare speak to him unless specifically addressed. Set had stated it multiple times in the past. Still, it gave Damian a thrill to dig at the god. He didn’t know why seeing Set’s hackles rise made him happy, but it did. Perhaps there was more Thorne blood in his veins than he believed. Damian certainly channeled Alastair whenever he was baiting Set.
“No,” the God snapped.
“Do we need a magical circle, or do you want me to get right to it?” Damian’s reluctance was obvious for all to hear.
“There is no need for a circle. Once we part the curtain, you’ll absorb the Evil.” Isis touched his arm. Her face was filled with compassion and concern. It startled him to see such a caring goddess. Dei
ties were notoriously self-absorbed and dismissive of humans. They showed other magical beings slightly more respect, but not much. About mortals, they couldn’t be bothered to care.
Nerves were beginning to get the better of him, and Damian wanted to get this thing done. He inhaled to the count of four and exhaled the same. After a few of these deep, centering breaths, he nodded his readiness.
“Remember, child, you must get every drop from the Otherworld or it will reinfect us all.”
He looked at her sharply, his eyes narrowing. “You’re infected?”
“I’m not certain, but I have not been myself in days.”
“Open to me, my queen, and let me search your cells.”
Isis placed her palms atop his, and Damian was able to send a magical feeler throughout her body. He met with resistance when he tried to access her mind. Whether by design or because she might be blocking him, he wasn’t sure.
Sweat beaded at his hairline, and he pressed deeper.
Isis frowned, but this time, she granted him full access to her mind. In her thoughts he could find none of the Evil, but she did have reservations about him and what might happen should he allow the Darkness to take hold.
Drawing back, he bowed to her. “You are free of its influence, Exalted One.”
Facing Serqet, he lifted a brow in question. She freely held out her hands, and he repeated the process. In her mind, he found residual hurt and resentment for the Thornes, but no madness or Evil influence.
Finally, he turned to Set. “We might as well get this over with, big guy.”
The God looked as if he would rather swallow glass, but he held out his hands.
Damian pulled back after a minute. “Nothing there but an unhealthy obsession for Spring Thorne,” he quipped, knowing there was no such thing happening. Set appreciated Spring’s feistiness and beauty, but he wasn’t smitten.
