by T. M. Cromer
“It’s not how it appears,” Coop directed to Summer.
“I don’t care. You and Autumn are consenting adults.” She dragged Keaton into the room and closed the door. “I’m not here about you anyway.”
“You’re not? Then—”
“Reps from White Labs are in the front lobby. They have a court order to get Morty back.”
“What?” Coop was stunned. He’d assumed Morty was obtained legally.
“Yes, and they are attempting to wrangle a deputy to head out to their place and serve the writ right now,” Keaton added.
A sneaking suspicion started to form. “Autumn, would you and Keaton give me a second with Summer, please?”
“There’s nothing you can’t say in front of her. She knows everything,” Summer said.
“Everything.” Coop sighed heavily and sought his brother’s gaze. “Stall them, please.”
After Keaton left, Coop turned to face the sisters. “Start talking. Don’t leave anything out.”
“Aunt GiGi was the one who brought Morty to me. I assumed it was some activist cause to stop lab testing on animals.” Summer shrugged. “I wasn’t going to turn him away. He was just a baby.”
“You didn’t bother to question GiGi about how she’d obtained a chimpanzee? The legality never occurred to you?”
“I didn’t care. It wasn’t right, Coop,” she argued, stepping forward. “You saw those tapes. What I didn’t show you was the pictures of a hairless baby chimp with sores on his body.” Tears filled her eyes. “Please, Coop. He can’t be sent back.”
Her tears gutted him.
“Fuck!” What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t break the law, even for Summer.
But perhaps he could bend it. He only need think of a solution.
“I don’t see what the problem is.”
Both of them turned to Autumn.
“A cloaking spell will do the trick. They can search the house until the cows come home. They won’t find him.”
Summer blinked, and Coop had to wonder why she came to him when another solution was readily available.
“Okay, you two get home and do your, well, whatever it is you do. I’ll find a few emergencies to occupy my deputies.”
Summer gazed up at him with shining eyes. “Thank you, Coop.”
His heart melted. “Go. Keep my little buddy safe.”
He was wrong. He could definitely break the law for one of her smiles.
“Oh, just kiss and get it over with,” Autumn said impatiently.
“No,” he said.
Summer’s smile dimmed.
Coop rubbed his thumb lightly over her full pink lips. “The next time I kiss you, I don’t intend to stop.”
“Well, fuck me, that was romantic,” Autumn muttered.
The light was back in Summer’s eyes and that was all he cared about. “Go, hide Morty.”
The sisters decided to forgo the drive and chose the faster method of Autumn’s teleport. Thank the Goddess for Autumn’s clear head, because once Coop touched her, Summer’s mind turned to mush. She cursed herself for being a fool. Why was it, that every time he graced her with that sexy, sensual look, she forgot she was angry with him?
They arrived at their estate on a run.
“Spring! Winnie!” Summer called as she headed upstairs. “Sisters!”
Both women came from the attic followed by their Aunt GiGi.
Summer didn’t have time to wonder about the why of the other witches gathering in the attic. “We need a foolproof cloaking spell. White Lab reps are at the Sheriff’s office with a court order for Morty.”
Aunt GiGi shook her fist. “Those dirty bastards! They want a fight? I’ll give them a fight.”
“Yeah, okay, but can we focus here, Aunt G? The chimp you stole is now in danger. Somehow they found out that we have him.”
“Will Coop help?” Spring asked over her shoulder as she led the way to their grimoire.
Summer shook her head. “He’s not going to lead them here, if that’s what you’re asking, but there isn’t much more he can do. The law is the law.”
Autumn snorted. “Yeah, like he wouldn’t break it for you. That man would burn that lab to the ground if you asked him to.”
“You’re delusional if you think so, sister,” Summer said coolly. “We’re talking about the same man who intended to shoot Morty and who threatened to arrest us all if we didn’t leave town.”
“He was scared, Summer,” Winnie said as she wrapped an arm around Summer’s shoulders. “Cut him a break.”
Because she wasn’t able to recover from another betrayal, Summer shrugged off her touch and said, “No. Now let’s get busy, please.”
Her family sighed in unison. Had the whole mess not been serious, she’d probably have laughed at their forlorn expressions.
But hope was a dangerous thing to cling to. For years, Summer had held on to the hope that Cooper Carlyle would wake up and see what was right in front of him. Time and again, she’d dealt with the humiliation of being the star of a one-sided love story. The humiliation of neighbors whispering behind their hands, and, in the early years, his girlfriends lording over her in their triumph. She’d held her head high through it all, treating the animals of these same two-faced toad stools and all the while smiling politely.
And that was all after the intentional setup during high school. Because despite it all, she’d believed that deep down, he was a good guy. The optimist in her was certain he’d come around.
Now he had, and it was too little, too late.
Summer was optimism-ed out. She’d save any positive outlooks for her Sanctuary and leave love to everyone else on the planet. Obviously, she wasn’t the best judge of character.
As far as this situation with Morty, well, Coop owed her this much. If he could help keep her beloved little ape from the hands of those evil lab owners, she’d call it even and be content to move on.
She wasn’t an ugly troll, she’d find someone to ease the lonely nights on occasion. Nothing permanent. No. She didn’t dare allow anyone a glimpse behind the curtain. Their little witchy oz needed to be kept under wraps.
When she was ready to leave Leiper’s Fork, she had one last request for her sibling and aunt. She wanted both her memory of Coop and his of her wiped clean. A fresh start for each of them. He didn’t suffer the Thorne curse of loving only once. She had no doubt he’d find another to share his life.
But the memory scrub could wait until the current crisis was taken care of first.
Aunt GiGi gathered the necessary oils, herbs, and the Thorne athamé then lit candles to cast the circle. Meanwhile, the four sisters purified and centered themselves for the upcoming spell.
As one, the sisters stood and joined hands with GiGi. The power of generations of Thorne witches shot through them. Magic pulsed in the surrounding air. Four of the family’s familiars occupied the four corners of the room and kept guard.
They drew on the main elements; water, air, earth, fire, and metal, then started to chant.
The sound of vehicles on the graveled drive traveled to the attic just as GiGi closed the circle. They all shared a confident look and headed downstairs. The time for confrontation was at hand. The five women lined up on the porch, ready to take on the horned one himself if it came to that. Morty was to be protected at all costs.
Coop cautiously exited his vehicle.
Summer met his uneasy gaze across the distance. She understood his watchfulness. The last time he arrived to the Thorne women lining the porch, things had gone to hell in a hand basket.
Dismissing him, she focused on the smarmy motherfucker next to the man in the White Laboratories lab coat. The suit was dressed all in black with a red power tie. His blond slicked-back hair sported at least three ounces of hair product. But it was his superior expression that set Summer’s teeth on edge.
“May we help you?” Her voice couldn’t be any colder, and the average person would’ve received frostbite.
But Summer recognized the tall man in front who strode toward the porch, and he was anything but average. He was a warlock. An extremely powerful warlock.
“Shit.” She sneezed, and her army of mice arrived.
“I can see by the arrival of your… backup, we are going to dispense with the fake formalities and get to it,” the warlock said.
“You’re not welcome here, Alastair Thorne.”
Coop jerked to a stop and gaped. Slowly, he shifted shocked eyes to Summer.
She felt the pull of his glorious blue-gray gaze. However, she didn’t dare take hers from the dangerous man before her.
“That is no way to greet your family, my dear.”
“We should forget and forgive, is that it?” Autumn asked with a sneer.
Alastair straightened his already perfect tie and tugged on his shirt cuffs. “I see GiGi has filled your head with stories again. My little sister always did have a flair for drama.”
“You killed our mother, you piece of shit!” Summer yelled. Her sneeze followed.
Another wave of mice arrived.
His lids dropped to shield his expression, and his sapphire-blue eyes shifted to the rodents lined up in front of him. “If you care about them, I suggest you have your army disperse, Summer dear.”
“Don’t you threaten my niece, you black-hearted knave!” GiGi snarled.
“You may be powerful, Alastair, but are you more powerful than the five of us combined?” Spring asked. Her tone remained neutral as if she discussed the weather.
The air rippled around them, a shifting of space and time.
“He’s not more powerful than I am,” a deep baritone inserted.
All heads turned to the auburn-haired man who’d appeared behind the women.
“Daddy,” Summer breathed. “Welcome home.”
“Hello, brother.” Alastair sneered. “I’m surprised you could pull yourself away from your little antiques long enough to bother with anyone else.”
“I’m always aware of what’s happening with my girls, brother. I made the mistake of leaving my wife unprotected with you on the loose. I won’t make the same mistake with my children.”
Alastair’s cold stare traveled witch to witch. He paused overlong on Summer before he returned his attention to Preston Thorne. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here in a legal capacity. It seems our sister has stolen something from my company, and I’ve come to retrieve it.”
“You have a warrant to search my home?” Preston asked.
“I have a court order for the chimpanzee,” Alastair’s lab tech inserted, stepping forward and waving a piece of paper.
The paper went up in flames and caused the man holding it to emit a bloodcurdling scream. The high-pitched sound made everyone wince, Alastair and Preston included. The technician jumped about, stomping on the burning paper.
“What a sissy,” Summer laughed as she fisted her hand and splashed him with water.
“Need a little ice for that burn?” Winter fisted her hand to blast the man with freezing wind.
Preston moved forward, squeezed Summer’s shoulder, then continued down the steps. “I think he’s had enough. Take your minions and get off my property, Alastair. If you ever return, I’ll set the coven on your evil ass. I’m sure GiGi would love to lead the charge.”
“I want that ape, Preston.”
Their father cocked his head. “What ape? I don’t recall any such animal in Summer’s rescue.” He didn’t look away from Alastair when he asked, “Ladies? Have you seen any apes?”
“Nope,” they chorused as one.
Alastair’s irritated gaze shot to Summer’s smug face, flicked to sweep Coop from head to toe, and returned to Summer. “There are other ways for me to go about this, Summer. Are you sure you want this fight?”
Her heart stopped.
Cooper must’ve believed her uncle meant to harm her because he scowled and stepped toward Alastair.
Alastair and Summer raised their hands simultaneously; Alastair to strike, and Summer to protect.
A bolt of light shot from her uncle’s palm headed directly for the center of Coop’s chest.
Ringing started in her ears, and the ground shook. A surge of raw power radiated from her core to her extremities. As she had the day she’d been shot, Summer froze time without trying.
Only her father remained unaffected and shifted to stand protectively in front of Coop.
“Daddy, no!”
He winked and waved his hand to restore time with a snap.
The red arc of electricity was absorbed into Preston’s massive chest with a grunt. “That all you have, brother?”
He slammed his hands together, and a resounding boom echoed around the property. Shingles on the roof lifted in a wave, and all the occupants in the yard were thrown off their feet.
Alastair disappeared in the blink of an eye.
“Where did you send that low-life brother of ours?” GiGi asked Preston.
“Antarctica.”
“Without a coat?” Autumn grinned as she helped GiGi to her feet. “Is it too much to hope that he’ll freeze to death?”
Preston chuckled and hugged Autumn. “Sorry, my sweet. It was just a scare tactic. I suspect he’ll be home by dinner.” He hugged each of his other three daughters in turn.
“I thought you were going to be killed,” Summer croaked from the comfort of her father’s arms.
“No need to worry about me, my sunshine. I saw his intent and prepared ahead of time.”
“Don’t ever do that again, Dad,” she scolded.
Preston raised a brow. “You mean as you did to protect the chimp that none of us have seen?” He tilted her chin up. “If you ever put yourself in front of a bullet again, there will be hell to pay. Understood?”
“I won’t make promises I can’t keep.”
“You’re stubborn—just like your mother.” Grief briefly clouded Preston’s eyes. “Come, I need a shot of whisky. Oh, and GiGi, do you mind?” He waved his hand at the lab employees.
GiGi was the master at altering memories.
“Excuse me, but what the fuck just happened?” Coop asked, shaken and looking like he was ready to lose his cookies.
“Old Uncle Alastair intended to kill you. My father saved your life,” Summer bluntly informed him, leaving out her part. “You may want to thank him.”
“He’ll have plenty of time to thank me when we have our sit-down,” Preston informed her. “Cooper and I need to get a few things straight.”
“It’s not necessary, Dad. We’re not—”
Her protest fell on deaf ears.
“Oh, but it is,” Preston stated. His hard tone ended the discussion.
17
“Sit down, son.” Preston pointed to a burgundy upholstered seat across from a massive antique desk. “Shall I pour you a dram?”
“No, sir. I’m still on duty.”
The older man paused and cast a sardonic glance over his shoulder then proceeded to pour two drinks anyway.
The question was only a formality. Coop was expected to drink.
“You may want to call Lil and let her know you’re taking the rest of the day off, son.”
“No disrespect, Mr. Thorne, but I’ll make my own decisions, thank you.”
Preston set the crystal tumbler before Coop, taking care to center it directly on a marble coaster. “This is a nineteen-thirty-seven bottle of Glenfiddich, boy. There were only sixty-one bottles in existence, and this pour is from one of them. Drink.”
When he put it like that, Coop felt churlish refusing and admittedly a little fearful after witnessing the man’s power.
“Now tell me. What are your intentions toward my daughter?”
Coop, in the process of sipping his whisky, inhaled. The sensation was liquid fire to his lungs, throat, and nostrils. Somewhere, the question floated about his brain, Why would he wait until I was sipping an eighty-plus-year-old whisky?
Preston waited patiently on the edge of his d
esk, one leg swinging casually to and fro, arms rested on his thigh as he leaned forward.
As intimidation went, the man was a pro.
“I have no intentions,” Coop managed after a minute.
One dark auburn brow shot up. Christ, the man was terrifying.
“Uh, that is to say, I don’t not have intentions.” What the hell does that even mean? I don’t not have intentions. Idiot!
Amber eyes narrowed on him, and Coop wiped his forearm across his sweaty brow.
“I… look, I like Summer. But we’ve only ever kissed twice—”
“Three times.”
Coop frowned. When the hell had he kissed her a third time? He certainly would’ve remembered. The other two times damned near blew his socks off.
“Shall I clarify?”
“Please do.”
“The Fourth of July celebration in town. You were five and she was four. She’d just dropped her ice cream on the ground. She was crying, heartbroken that she’d lost her treat. You hugged and kissed her, begged her not to cry. Then proceeded to give her your cone.”
Coop grinned at the memory. He’d forgotten until Preston recounted the incident. “That was Summer? I thought your family didn’t move here until the girls were in high school?”
Preston ignored the questions to say, “All she talked about from that moment was Cooper and her intent to marry you.”
“I had no idea.”
“Quite clearly, what had been an impressionable moment for her, had been promptly forgotten by you.” Preston swirled his drink and stared into its golden depths. “Then you set her up for heartbreak with your prom stunt.”
“I was a kid, Mr. Thorne. A stupid kid.”
“Granted. But what about more recently, Cooper? You drew on one daughter and shot the other.”
All pretext of civility was gone. Standing before him was an enraged father. And a powerful magical one at that.
Coop eased to his feet.
“Sit down, boy,” the older man boomed.
Coop sat.
“You started helping Summer in her sanctuary under false pretenses. Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“You shot at her beloved pet. Yes or no?”
