by T. M. Cromer
“Be right back.”
After she dashed away, he crossed to the bed and quickly tidied up. Opening the nightstand drawer, he pulled out a wicked-looking blade and tucked it in the waistband of his jeans. Not that he expected any trouble that magic couldn’t handle, but it was always better to be prepared.
Conjuring a flashlight, he leaned into the opening and looked around. Wooden stairs led down a narrow hallway flanked by wood-slat walls. No handrails.
Lovely.
“Hello?”
Only the sound of his voice echoed back. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but he’d probably shite himself something proper if anyone called back.
An idea struck, and he removed an autographed cricket ball from its protective plastic case where it rested on his dresser. He sent a quick apology to James Anderson, England’s premier cricket player, and with a quick charm to protect the integrity of his prized ball, Sebastian hurled it into the void of the passage. He leaned forward and thought he heard it bang into something once, but then nothing.
Another thirty seconds went by with no noise. Surely if something was down there, he’d have heard the impact? With a shrug and a mental note to look for the ball when he went exploring, he turned away from the opening.
He was decidedly unprepared for the fierce blow to his back that sent him flying toward the heavy bedroom door. Throwing up a hand to protect his face, he hit the wood hard enough to slam it shut. Spinning back, prepared for a fight, Sebastian gaped in shock when he saw the cricket ball resting on the floor at his feet.
“Bloody hell!”
How the damned thing had returned to him was a mystery—one he wasn’t looking forward to solving. Leery of touching it, he stared at the ball and weighed his options. When the bedroom door was flung open, he jumped sideways. For a man who had spent the entirety of his life on this estate without incident, his new nervousness was laughable.
Knox Carlyle filled the doorway, surveying the room as if looking for enemies. His shrewd azure gaze landed on Sebastian, and he grunted. “Seems safe enough. Come in.”
Spring shoved by her husband with an eye roll, followed by a smirking Mackenzie. The latter looked as if she thought this whole incident was a lark.
“Knox and Spring insisted on going with us, Baz. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Why should I mind? Why don’t we make this a real party and invite Alastair, Aurora, Ryker, and GiGi?”
“Not the worst idea you’ve had, Drake.”
All four of them turned to face the blond man in the doorway. Alastair tugged on the cuff of each shirt sleeve and grinned. “I hear there’s adventure to be had.”
“Who told you that?” Sebastian cast a sharp glance at Mackenzie.
“Not your wife, if that’s what you suspect.” Alastair laughed and shot a curious glance around the room. Although it was made, his eyes touched on the bed, and a knowing smile lingered on his lips. He winked at Mackenzie, whose face flared bright. Leaning in, he whispered something to make her laugh.
When her dancing eyes locked on Sebastian, his irritation with Alastair eased. He couldn’t be angry with anyone who made Mackenzie happy. Even if the joke was at his expense.
“Ready for our adventure, love?”
“Yes. You?”
He glanced at the other three occupants of their room. If he were pressed on the subject, he’d admit he was happier they were going, too. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter 19
The stairs were surprisingly sturdy. Not one of them creaked under the weight as their group descended. It seemed to Sebastian the passageway went for miles. There were three other interconnecting hallways, but they chose to ignore them for now, relying on Mackenzie’s instincts and the “yellow light” to guide them downward. Around the time they’d come to the first offshoot, she said the trail had appeared to her.
“How much farther, do you suppose?” Spring asked.
Mackenzie snorted. “I don’t think you have to whisper, cousin. It’s doubtful anyone upstairs can hear us at this level.”
“Valid point,” Knox said. His harsh grunt followed. “What? I was simply agreeing with Mack that we are too far below stairs to be heard.”
“Quit your bickering, children.” Alastair’s dry tone held a bit of an edge.
Sebastian registered the underlying emotion but didn’t look back. It appeared his weren’t the only raw nerves. It was good to know the Mighty Alastair Thorne was subject to unease now and again. He had to admit he’d never met anyone as unflappable as the Thorne patriarch. The man had ice in his veins.
“Shhh. Wait.” Mackenzie ordered, tugging Sebastian to a halt and holding up a hand to the others. They all froze. “Can you hear that?”
“What?” Knox asked.
“Running water,” Spring answered. “I think this passage opens to an underground cavern. There’s a vibration from the earth… I feel… something.” She shook her head. “I don’t know for sure, but it’s similar to the clearing between our home and the Carlyles’. It’s putting off a signal like that of the Standing Stones.”
“Ancient magic.” Alastair glanced back over his shoulder before addressing their group. “If you had to guess, child, how much farther?”
Spring closed her eyes and held up her hands. The tremble of the ground was so slight, had Sebastian not known she was sending out a magical feeler, he’d have ignored it as his imagination. Still, the mini-earthquake made him acutely aware of a claustrophobia he didn’t know he suffered from.
“Perhaps we should return,” he suggested.
“Around that bend, we’ll hit solid ground.” Spring released Knox’s hand and pushed her way past Sebastian and Mackenzie. “Come on.”
Knox rushed forward, swearing as she disappeared around the corner. When Sebastian and Mackenzie would’ve gone after them, Alastair held them back.
“What’s wrong, Thorne?”
“Spring’s right. The pull of the magic is extremely strong. I’m surprised you can’t feel it, Drake.” Alastair frowned and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “It’s been cloaked from your family for some time, which is concerning to the extreme. Why would someone build over such a power source unless they were drawing from it?”
“And how is it my aunts never mentioned it?” Sebastian experienced a sense of foreboding. “Mack, I think you should go back.”
“Nonsense.” She ripped her hand from his and scowled. “I’m the one it showed itself to.”
“Exactly. The question is, why? And why now?” He shook his head, mainly because he had no answers. “I don’t know how to explain it, love, but I feel it’s trying to lure you. Right now, we can’t risk it.”
“What about the book? Do you think it may be there?”
“What book?” Alastair’s gaze sharpened to match his tone.
“Mackenzie heard a voice earlier when she saw the yellow light illuminating the passage location. It told her to find the book and all will be well.”
The blast of Alastair’s anger was like a hard shove to the chest. Sebastian staggered back a foot or so at the same time Mackenzie grabbed for the wall.
“What the bloody blue blazes were you thinking?” Alastair demanded. He faced Mackenzie, his narrowed eyes advertising his ire. “That voice could very well be the Enchantress hoping to guide you to her spellbook. With her grimoire, you—possessed by her—would be nearly unstoppable, even for Damian.”
“It didn’t sound like her.” Mackenzie cut her eyes toward the direction Spring and Knox had gone. “I didn’t see anything when I touched the wall. Not good or bad. Surely, I would’ve had a premonition of sorts.”
“Would you?” Alastair ran a hand through his hair, and the sight of it concerned Sebastian as nothing else the older man had done or said yet. Alastair was well and truly upset, which meant he was scared. When a warlock with that much power showed fear, it meant whatever they were up against should make a normal witch run for cover. “Mackenzie, I don’t
think you understand the severity of this situation.”
“I’m not naive, Alastair,” she retorted. “I think I know more than anyone there is a problem. It’s my body that twatwaffle has been trying to possess.”
There wasn’t really anything to say in response. She was right; she stood to lose the most. The rest of them had a chance of escaping. Yes, it was slim, but still there. She didn’t have that option. If Isolde gained total control, then Mackenzie was as good as dead.
Sebastian rubbed the spot between his brows. He met Alastair’s worried gaze then shifted his attention to his wife. She stood, hands on hips, glaring at her cousin.
“You’ve earned the right to see what’s down there, Mack. Let’s go.” Sebastian held out his hand. “Whatever we discover, we handle it together.”
Gratitude welled in her large eyes, and the shimmering sight about broke his heart.
“Thank you, Baz.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I could very well have consigned us to the farthest depths of hell.”
A half smile stole some of her solemness. “As long as you’re with me, I’m cool with it.”
He lifted a hand to cradle her face. “You say that now, but you can’t come back after an eternity and yell at me. This was all your idea.”
She laughed and glanced at Alastair. “You with us?”
“Of course. It isn’t as if I wished to sleep tonight or anything.”
“Oh, give over, you big teddy bear. I know you were on watch tonight.”
Sebastian laughed. “She’s onto us.”
Alastair surprised them both when he inserted himself between them and gave her a fierce hug. “You’re like my own daughter, Mackenzie. There will never be a time when I don’t look out for you. Protect you.” He pulled back and stared down into her face. “Kill for you, if I must.”
“Dammit, Thorne! That was my line.”
Alastair never looked at him, but his lips twitched. “She’s like your own daughter?”
Heat rose up Sebastian’s neck and into his cheeks. “Only you could twist my words, you wanker.”
Turning to face him, Alastair winked. “Come on, son. Let’s go see what those other two have gotten up to.”
Mackenzie clasped Sebastian’s hand again and gave it a soft squeeze.
“Thank you, Baz,” she said softly.
Her earnest words wrapped around his heart and made him stand taller. Goddess, he loved her. With every minute of every day, he fell deeper under her spell. So much so, that he now feared life without her would be an endless wasteland of days and nights, waiting until the moment he could see her lovely face again. Hear her bubbly laughter.
“What’s wrong?” Her voice held a note of trepidation.
“Nothing. In fact, everything is right, perhaps for the first time in my life.”
“Now is not the time to declare your undying love, Drake,” Alastair inserted. He nodded toward the far wall of the cavern. “Mackenzie’s yellow beacon is back.”
* * *
Mack gasped when she looked up and saw the glowing ball of yellow light, all intention of addressing Sebastian’s possible love for her on hold. She hadn’t realized she had a death grip on his hand until he reached down with his other one and loosened her hold.
“I may need those fingers, love.”
“Oh!” She gave a half-hearted smile but never took her gaze off the magical sphere. “What do you suppose it is?” She took a step forward before it occurred to her to question how Alastair saw it. “How… you… how…?” She looked at Sebastian. “Do you see it, too?”
He squinted into the distance and shook his head.
“Alastair? How is it you can see the same thing I do?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s the same way Drake can’t feel the magic. We must be more receptive to it.”
Her stomach plummeted. In her experience, being receptive to powerful influences didn’t bode well. “Do you suppose it is Isolde? She was a Thorne by blood, right? Maybe her magical things call to us as they did to her.”
Spring popped her head around the corner. Excitement lit her face but changed to confusion as her attention was caught by the golden sphere. “What the hell is that?”
“I don’t know if I feel better knowing she sees it or not,” Mackenzie said in an aside to the others.
“Actually, I do.” Alastair sauntered off, stopping in front of the glowing two-foot ball. With a curious expression, he lifted a hand and ran it along the outside, not quite touching. “The power emanating from this is incredible. It’s almost like…” His bark of laughter shocked them all. They stared as if he’d lost his mind. “You can show yourself now, Leopold.”
“Leopold? What?” Air gushed from Mackenzie’s lungs as the Drakes’ butler took the place of the pulsing sphere. “Ohmygod!”
“Not quite,” Alastair replied with an amused snort. He held out a hand to the elderly manservant. “Don’t be shy, Leopold, old boy. Take my hand.”
The butler straightened his tie and tugged at his cuffs.“I don’t see where that would be appropriate, sir. I’m here to serve.” With a simple wave of his hand, light flooded the darkened passageway.
“He’s a Thorne!” Spring and Mackenzie blurted at the same time. Their eyes connected across the distance in their excitement, and as one, they rushed toward Leopold.
“Who are you?” Spring asked, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. She paused only long enough to touch Alastair’s arm. “Did you know about this, Uncle?” Waving a hand, she didn’t give him time to answer. “Nevermind. Of course you did. How exciting!”
“Leo, have you been my guide all this time? The magic in the hallway leading to Sebastian’s ceremony room, the beam of light on the wall showing me this passage… that was you, too?”
His lips twisted, and he relaxed his stiff persona. “Yes, my dear. All me.”
“I don’t understand. Why not just tell me?”
He cast a quick glance toward Sebastian. “You needed to overhear what your presence on the estate would bring. I wasn’t certain the family would tell you, and I didn’t feel you should be left in the dark concerning your own personal well-being.”
“Okay, that I get. You thought I might not believe you if you told me directly. But this passageway?”
“Ah, well, yes. This leads to my private chambers. I had no idea you’d tell the entire household what you found.” He grimaced. “I was relying on your curiosity and discretion.”
“Discretion? Tell me you aren’t interested in moving on from Aunt Teddie.” Sebastian shuddered.
A wolfish grin transformed Leopold’s face, and Mackenzie caught a glimpse of what he must’ve been like in his younger years. “No, my wife would hand me my bollocks on a silver platter.”
“Wife?!” The loudness of Sebastian’s, Spring’s, and Mackenzie’s shock rang out, echoing off the stone surface around them.
“What about Aunt Teddie?” Mackenzie sputtered, indignant on both women’s behalf.
Leo’s bark of laughter was loud and full-bodied, completely at odds with the skeletal old man’s frame. “Teddie is my wife.”
Only Alastair didn’t appear surprised by any of Leopold’s explanations.
“You knew, cousin?” Mackenzie put her hands on her hips and shifted her irate glare between the butler and him. “But that’s not all, is it? Spill.”
“I thought I was.” Leopold’s dry tone was so similar to Alastair’s, Mack did a double-take.
“You aren’t just a Thorne.” She peered into the depths of the older man’s sapphire eyes. They were no longer the rheumy ones she remembered from their previous interactions. “You’re closely related to him.” She pointed to Alastair.
Spring danced forward and studied both men. Her slow nod gaining more momentum. “Give over, Gramps. The gig is up.”
When both Alastair and Leopold laughed, it was almost as if they were twins. Their bark of laughter was so eerily similar, Mackenzie shivered.
With a wry smile and a soft shake of his head, Leopold snapped his fingers. Twinkling gold light cloaked him for the five seconds it took him to transform into his true self.
Knox had joined them when he heard their earlier yell, and now his shocked exclamation played in stereo with theirs.
Alastair stepped forward and placed his arm around Leopold’s shoulders. “Children, allow me to introduce my great-grandfather. Nathanial Thorne.”
Chapter 20
They all began to speak at once, but Alastair held up his hand. “One at a time, children.”
“You know, it makes us sound like we’re squabbling five-year-olds when you call us children,” Mackenzie grumbled.
“Duly noted.” Alastair gave her an indulgent smile.
She gave him a sour look and compressed her lips to smother a grin. Turning to Nathanial, she studied him with a sense of awe.
He bore an uncanny resemblance to Alastair, with the exception he was a bit burlier than his descendant. But the deep blue eyes, the color of their hair, and even their sardonic expressions were all the same. Of course, Nathanial wore his hair a bit longer, and he didn’t seem to be as elegant with his clothing choice, but that could be due to the fact he was dressed as a butler.
“Do we call you Grandfather?”
Nathanial’s smile widened, and he opened his arms in invitation. “You, my dear Mackenzie, may call me whatever you wish.”
She rushed into his embrace, shutting her eyes as his arms closed around her. “I felt a connection to you from the moment I saw you. I had to fight the urge to constantly hug you.”
“A part of you recognized me. I imagine it was owing to your psychic ability.” His arms tightened momentarily before releasing her. “And I’ve wanted to hug you as well. It’s good to be able to meet you as myself, dear girl.”
Emotions long suppressed crept up on her. She’d been rejected by her own father. Most likely the only deadbeat Thorne in existence. But Nathanial’s love for her was clear in his every look. Every smile. “Your responsibility to our family is why you are here, isn’t it?”
