by T. M. Cromer
GiGi laughed. “That’s the one.”
“Yep, he’s insisted I speak directly to her and tell her he has a plan of attack.”
“Interesting. I can’t wait to see what the overprotective Knox will do when he hears.”
“Am I missing something?” Mackenzie glanced between GiGi and Sebastian, but he looked just as frustrated as she felt.
GiGi rubbed her hands together, gleeful to be relaying gossip. “Well, when Nash needed to revive Ryanne—”
“Don’t tell me!” A shiver of awareness caused the fine hair on Mackenzie’s arms to stand at attention.
Both GiGi and Sebastian froze.
Mack’s heart began pounding in her ears. Somehow, some way, Isolde was tuned in, and Mackenzie didn’t want to be responsible for giving her a clue as to what was about to go down. “I think the less I know, the better.”
Her cousin nodded thoughtfully. “Of course, dear.”
“Mack, are you one-hundred percent?”
“For now, Baz.” She rubbed her arms. “Let’s go find Spring.”
Chapter 16
“What do you suppose Set intends to do?” Knox asked. Spring’s young man wasn’t thrilled to learn the God would be visiting his wife in her dreams, and Alastair almost chuckled at the heavy irritation in his tone.
“The transmutation spell would be my guess,” Spring replied.
Alastair could see the wheels spinning behind her lovely jade eyes. Her intelligent mind was always going, turning over everything she learned to see how best it could benefit her. Or rather, the Thornes as a whole. Her generous spirit encouraged her to look out for the family’s best interest at all times, much to Knox’s dismay. Spring’s willingness to put her life in jeopardy to save another was giving the poor man gray hair.
“I believe you may be onto something,” Alastair said. “I assume you still have the scroll Set gave you when we swapped the souls of Ryanne and her sister?”
“I do, but I don’t need it.” She tapped a fingertip to her temple. “I know it by heart.”
“Of course you do.” He allowed an approving smile. Spring was the Thornes’ jewel. Multifaceted, beautiful, and full of life. And perhaps the favorite of all his nieces, although he’d never say as much to anyone else.
“What remains to be seen is what he wants us to do with it.” Knox placed a hand on her knee and absently caressed it.
Alastair was positive he didn’t know he did it.
Ever since the two of them had been reunited after Spring’s resurrection by Isis, Knox had been unable to keep his hands off her. It was as if he needed to touch her to reassure himself she was safe and constantly within reach.
Alastair felt the same way about Aurora. After nearly two decades in stasis, she’d returned to him, and he worried he’d finally snapped. That he was living in a dreamworld and had conjured his love only in his broken mind. Rorie was always quick to hug or kiss him, assuring him she was real. But he knew she’d say that in his dream state, too.
Her hand touched his, and Alastair smiled. Their connection was strong, and she’d picked up on his worry without him ever needing to speak. He raised their joined hands and kissed her knuckles.
“I would imagine Set wants us to perform a swap of souls. Isolde’s for Mackenzie’s, but the when and how would need to be determined,” Rorie said. She arched a brow and met Alastair’s gaze. “Am I wrong, darling?”
He grinned. “I’m sure you have the right of it, my love.”
He glanced around the room, cataloging the reactions of everyone. Ryker sat on the arm of the sofa, rubbing his wife’s shoulders. Spring and Knox sat beside GiGi, the couple practically fused at the hip. Their gazes connecting in some unspoken communication. Damian had yet to speak, and Sebastian was pacing a hole in his expensive Safavid silk Persian carpet.
Alastair’s gaze shifted to the Drakes’ butler, Leopold, as the old retainer set about pouring tea for their small gathering.
Leopold’s rheumy sapphire eyes flitted to him and down again.
Alastair almost laughed the second he recognized the man. His gaze zeroed in on Damian, and they shared a knowing glance. The wily, old buzzard’s presence might be a good thing. The Aether understood the fact, too.
“What has you so amused, darling?” Rorie asked, accepting a cup of tea from the Drakes’ manservant.
“Life.”
Her eyes cut sideways, and although her dark brows shot up, she held off commenting. She knew he’d tell her in good time, but she wasn’t necessarily happy about it. When his empathic ability picked up on her pique, Alastair bit the inside of his cheek to curb his urge to laugh.
“So, Leopold, is it?” The manservant’s eyes narrowed, and he gave a slight nod in the face of Alastair’s wicked delight. “Tell me, Leopold, how long have you been employed here at the Drake estate.”
Alastair didn’t need to look around to know all eyes were on him and the butler.
“I couldn’t say, sir.”
“Couldn’t? As in you’re sworn to secrecy, or is it that you’ve been here so long, you don’t remember?”
“Why all the questions, Thorne?” Sebastian stopped pacing. His expression reflected confusion. “What are you about?”
Alastair waved him off, his gaze still locked with that of Leopold. “I’m simply interested in people, Drake. No need to get your knickers in a wad.”
Spring giggled, and Damian coughed into his hand.
“Leopold, be a dear and fetch me some brandy, won’t you, my good man?”
The butler tugged at his cuffs and straightened his tie. “Of course, sir. Right away.”
“On second thought, I’ll get it myself. I realize with your age, getting around must be a bit more difficult these days.”
“I’ll give you difficult,” Leopold muttered for Alastair’s ears alone.
Biting back a laugh, Alastair rose and slapped a hand on the other man’s back. He leaned in to whisper, “Nice disguise. Soon, we need to discuss how you came to be here and why you didn’t tell me.”
Because Sebastian had shifted closer, Leopold remained silent on the subject, instead saying, “If that will be all, I’ll bring refreshments to Lady Kilbride.”
“Thank you, Leopold,” Sebastian said. “Please tell Mack I’ll be up momentarily to see how she’s fairing.”
“Yes, sir.”
As the butler put on an act of shuffling to the door, Alastair watched his progress. Right before he exited, Leopold glanced back, met his gaze, and winked.
After he closed the door, Leopold did away with his old-man act and sprinted into the next room.
“He recognized me.”
Teddie grimaced as she put aside her book and wineglass to stand. “What did he say?”
“Nothing yet. Basically, he taunted me regarding my age. The nerve of that beastly boy!”
“Don’t work yourself up, dearest. If he’s recognized you, Alastair is simply being his mischievous self.” Teddie waved a hand and transitioned back into her standard beautiful body, dispensing with the batty spinster-aunt disguise.
Leopold smiled his appreciation even as he morphed back into the lean, muscled form he’d maintained throughout the years. He drew her close and tucked a lock of silver-blonde hair behind her delicate ear. “We only have a moment or two because I have to check on Mackenzie, but let’s make the most of them, love.”
Mackenzie impatiently tapped her fingers against the wood surface of the desk as Arabella perused her family grimoire. “What are you looking for, Bella?”
“I’ll know when I find it.”
“Don’t believe for one second I don’t know this was a ruse to get me away from the others for them to discuss what’s happening with Isolde.”
Arabella smirked and turned another page. “Then I suppose you should simply be patient.”
Mackenzie blew out a frustrated breath and rose to explore the room for the second time. She was drawn to the far back wall, but she couldn’t fi
gure out why. As she studied it, she wondered if this old place had secret passageways like other English estates she’d read about.
“What’s behind here?”
Arabella’s head came up, and she frowned. “Nothing. Why?”
“I feel… I don’t know… something. Have you ever explored?”
“Of course. I know our home inside and out.”
Mackenzie ran her hand along the wall, feeling the pulse of magic behind it. “Are you sure there’s nothing here?”
“Yes.”
The yellow light she’d previously followed to find this room started as a barely discernible glow and flared brighter as she moved toward the west-facing window. “Bella. There’s something here.”
Arabella joined her and stared at the corner of the room. Confusion and worry were plain on her countenance. “Mack, I don’t see a thing.”
Mackenzie could either argue the point or revisit this room later, when no one was around. Because she didn’t want to give Arabella heart failure by tearing down a wall in her home, she decided to come back.
Facing Sebastian’s sister, she pasted on a bright smile. “Do you suppose they are done with their war meeting by now?”
Before Arabella could answer, Leopold appeared in the doorway. His thinning hair was rumpled, and his tie was askew. Again, one sock drooped down around his painfully skinny ankle.
“Lady Kilbride, Lord Kilbride wished me to bring you refreshments and tell you he’d join you shortly.”
Rushing across the room, Mackenzie took the heavy tray from the elderly butler. “Let me, Leo. You should come in and take a load off. I suspect you’ve worn yourself out with Teddie.”
His blue eyes lit with humor. “She’s a wily minx and keeps me on my toes, m’lady.”
Arabella slapped her hands over her ears and began humming, and Mackenzie bit her lip to hold back her laughter as she set the refreshment tray on the desk.
“Leo, when I grow up, I want to live my best life—like you.”
His deep chuckle triggered a distant memory, but for the life of her, she couldn’t recall where she’d heard the familiar sound. “Enjoy your tea, m’lady.”
“You don’t need any of that m’lady stuff. I’m just Mack.”
“Well, Just Mack, enjoy your tea. You’ll find your favorite biscuits have been added to the tray.”
She couldn’t prevent her wide grin. “You made me chocolate, chocolate chip cookies? Goddess, I adore you, Leo! Never retire, okay?”
His amused expression faded by slow degrees as he crossed to where she stood. “One day, I won’t have a choice. My duty to the family will be finished.”
Unsure whether it was due to his somber mood or a faint premonition about what was to come, Mackenzie shivered. Sadness flooded her heart as she stared up into the craggy face of the man she’d come to adore. When his rheumy sapphire eyes locked with hers, she wanted to cry, to throw herself into his arms and hold on for dear life. Exactly why, she couldn’t say, but a sense of importance filled this moment.
“I’ll miss you if you leave,” she whispered. “You brighten my days.”
His smile started small and grew to encompass half his face. “As you brighten mine, my dear.”
He let down his guard enough to tug a lock of her hair. “You remind me of your great-great-grandmother. A pure ray of sunshine, she was.”
“You knew them? Nathanial and Evie?” She’d always heard they’d settled in America. Somewhere in the Baton Rouge area before they moved to Leiper’s Fork, Tennessee. “How? They disappeared around the Witch Wars, didn’t they?”
He pressed his lips together and looked out toward the garden. “I can’t recall.” Leopold shook his head as if to clear his confusion. “No matter, m’lady. I’m sure it will come back to me in due time.” He avoided her gaze and shuffled back toward the door.
Arabella joined her by the desk and stared after his departing back. “That was the oddest thing I’ve ever heard him say.”
“Really?” Mackenzie looked at her. “What was he like when you and Baz were small children? Was Leopold more forthcoming?”
“No. Indulgent perhaps. He laughed at our antics, but he always remained reserved.” Arabella gave her a curious glance as she picked up the teapot to pour. “Not like he is with you, though. I’ve never seen him touch another person.”
“Not even your Aunt Teddie?” Mackenzie teased.
Arabella laughed as she prepared their drinks. “No. Those two think they are being clandestine, but the reality is, we all know what is going on behind closed doors.”
“You’re okay with Teddie’s and Leo’s affair?”
Arabella acted out gagging, and mock shuddered. “I don’t care to think about them at all. It’s too disturbing for my peace of mind.”
“Now you sound like Baz,” Mack said with a laugh.
“Well, my brother and I agree on a great many things. Like how wonderful you are for our family.”
Because she didn’t feel the same way, and because she felt like she was detrimental to the Drake family’s well-being, Mackenzie remained quiet as she picked up a cookie and studied it. She broke it in half to test the consistency before popping it into her mouth. The rich taste of dark chocolate filled her mouth as the semi-sweet morsels followed on its heels. Her tongue lapped up a stray crumb from her lip. “Goddess, this is amazing. I guess Leopold prepares something properly.”
Arabella picked a cookie for herself. “I have to admit, since you’ve been here, everything is actually edible. Why do you suppose that is? Are you sneaking down to the kitchens to prepare our meals?”
“It’s my charm. I think Leo is trying to impress me.”
“Don’t let Aunt Teddie hear you.”
Chapter 17
Dinner was a major strain on Mackenzie’s nerves. It seemed everyone was putting on an act of forced cheer, and she absolutely hated it. Part of her wanted to call them out on their weird behavior, but she understood they were trying to make everything as normal as possible. Trying to watch every word to avoid a slip of the tongue that could reveal what they’d discussed when she was banished from their earlier meeting.
She sipped her wine, appetite gone.
“Are you all right, child?”
Mackenzie glanced to her right and noted Alastair’s watchful expression. She shrugged and took another sip.
“Mackenzie.”
The deep understanding and affection he felt for her were packed into that one name. A sob caught in the back of her throat, and she had to question why she’d felt like crying more in the last week than she ever had in her entire life combined. “I’m fine, cousin,” she choked out.
“No, you’re not.”
The sound of his chair scooting back forced her eyes open. As she watched, he tossed down his napkin and strode to her side of the table. “Come.”
The rest of the room’s occupants grew silent, and she cast a quick glance around her. Goddess, she hated being the center of attention. Wasn’t it odd how much she, one of the world’s most popular supermodels, hated to be in the spotlight?
Slowly, she set aside her wine and removed the garnet-colored napkin from her lap. “It’s okay, Alastair. You don’t need to—”
He cut her off by clasping her hand. “Your stubbornness is one of the things I admire most about you, child. But not right at this moment. Come.”
He led her out the double doors to the stone terrace. With a simple wave of his hand, the lanterns around them lit, illuminating the beautiful gardens around them and creating an inviting space. They crossed the expanse of the patio and descended the many steps leading to the grass.
“What are we doing, cousin? If you wanted to talk to me, there was no reason you couldn’t have in the dining room.”
“I don’t want to talk. I’m here to listen, should you wish to, and to show you how to recharge your batteries, so to speak.”
“I already practice meditation,” she argued.
St
opping short, he faced her. One of his dark-blond brows lifted nearly to his hairline. “Are you determined to resist the entire time?”
His arrogance made her laugh. It always had. “No, I suppose not. Lead on.”
His unsmiling mouth twitched, as if he too wanted to laugh. He lingered another moment, brow still firmly in place in that arched, haughty way of his.
Mack laughed a second time and linked her arm through his.
Scenes of the past crowded her mind, and she gasped at the ones that took place yards from where she stood.
The first was of Isolde using her magic to scribble a note. “Deliver yourself to Alastair Thorne,” she’d said. The next was of the Enchantress hugging a small black-haired boy. She’d made him promise to hide and not come out for anyone but Alastair. The last was of Isolde in the garden. A malicious grin flitted across her face as she spun to face the small group of witches gathered to confront her. All her attention was focused on the blond man who stood front and center, prepared to do battle.
“Alastair Thorne?” Isolde asked curiously.
He shot a quick look at the older warlock next to him. “Nathanial Thorne.”
“You’ll not set your sights on my son,” the auburn-haired man beside him snapped.
She laughed, and the wicked sound echoed off the trees, lending a macabre air to the scene.
The witches present shared uneasy glances and shifted closer to one another.
Gliding forward, one hip-swaying step at a time, Isolde kept her gaze locked on Nathanial Thorne. “You’re incredible. All fierce and proud. Your magic…” She closed her eyes and inhaled. “Your magic is divine.” Her eyes snapped open. “Come to me, Nathanial,” she ordered. “I want to taste you, lover.”
“Shit!” Nathanial shook his head and jerked backward, his fingertips pressed to one brow. “Evie.”
Isolde closed her eyes and smiled. The smugness of her expression plain for everyone to see. “She’s lovely. I’ve never seen anyone with her hair color before. So silver as to be white,” she said, taking another step toward him and lifting her hand to beckon him forward. “If you join me now, I shall spare her life.”
