by T. M. Cromer
He looked pained, yet decisive. “Take what you need and go, Cunningham.”
Hugh’s grip around her neck tightened slightly, and Mack worried he’d cut off her ability to breathe in his nervousness. “I’ll take Mackenzie.”
“Wrong answer, you fool,” Alastair snarled. “Commoro!”
With one simple command, he’d locked Hugh in place, incapacitating him.
“Uh, cousin, his arm’s still locked around my neck,” Mackenzie croaked out.
An arctic smile curled Alastair’s lips. “Then I’ll have to detach it, won’t I?”
Hugh whimpered.
“That’s one way, but I don’t wish to have blood all over my lovely blouse. Can you unfreeze his arm long enough to pry it away?”
“Mackenzie, my dear, I thought you were the adventurous one of this generation. Why are you spoiling my fun?” Alastair ran his hand from Hugh’s elbow to his wrist, using magic to unlock the joints of Hugh’s arm long enough to release her.
“This is Dolce & Gabbana, cousin. Blood isn’t so easy to remove from silk.”
“We’re witches. You could conjure another,” he argued, humor heavy in his tone. “Or better yet, buy another.”
“This one has sentimental value, and that’s all I’m saying on the matter. Now…” She turned to face Hugh, and with every ounce of strength she possessed, she clocked him with her fist. “That’s for being a dirty, rotten piece of shit!”
“Bravo, child! I knew you had it in you.”
She shook out her hand and sent Alastair an amused glance. “You taught me well. Now, what do we do with him?”
GiGi stepped forward, hands on her hips and a determined glint in her eye. “I have just the idea.”
Alastair laughed even as Ryker groaned.
“Don’t laugh, Al. It only encourages her mean streak,” Ryker said.
Although GiGi narrowed her eyes, she didn’t look at her husband.
He stepped forward and wrapped a hand around her waist. “And what, pray tell, my dearest love, is your idea.”
“Your only love. And I say let’s take him out to meet the Enchantress he adores so much.”
Mackenzie gasped, shocked her aunt would do something so cold-blooded. Yet, even as she felt appalled at the idea, a small part of her clung to it. She found herself nodding. “Yes. I think you’re right.”
Alastair cut her a sharp glance. His face took on a thoughtful look as he turned his attention back to Hugh.
Only Arabella and Gwennie seemed disturbed by this new plan.
“If you’ll beg my pardon, Lady Kilbride.” Nathanial shuffled forward in his old, butler disguise. “I must insist we wait until Lord Kilbride and Master Dethridge return to make any drastic decisions as to Mr. Cunningham’s demise.”
Hugh let out a choked sound and began sweating more profusely than he already was.
Mackenzie was hard-pressed not to laugh. She didn’t know whether Nathanial’s pretense as Leopold was still intentional at this point or whether he’d forgotten to change into the powerful Guardian he was. For sure, his comment threatened to give Hugh imminent a stroke.
“I’m not sure if you know my cousins well, Leopold, but I can promise you, when GiGi and Alastair get something in their heads, it takes a stronger person than either Baz or me to remove it.” Mackenzie shrugged and pressed her lips together, careful to avoid eye contact, or she was sure to start laughing. Any sign of humor at this point would be entirely inappropriate, but since Alastair had Hugh frozen in place, the situation seemed well in hand.
“Exactly, my dear. And I second my lovely sister’s plan. After all, if anyone should be sacrificed to bring Isolde back, I think it should be one of her disciples, don’t you?” Alastair raised a hand, and Hugh’s body levitated a foot above the floor.
Arabella charged forward, stopping short of touching Alastair. “Mr. Thorne, the danger involved in resurrecting Isolde is immense. I don’t think this is the best course of action, sir.”
“I disagree, Ms. Drake. You see, Isolde’s body is at her weakest right now. She doesn’t stand a chance against us when we are united.”
“Yes,” GiGi agreed. “We’ve had plenty of experience with enemies, Arabella. The time to strike is when they are not prepared.”
Mackenzie placed an arm around Arabella’s shoulders. “Trust them, Bella. They know what they’re doing. Alastair and GiGi are powerful all on their own. If they combine their magic and that of anyone else present, the Enchantress is toast.”
A small niggling doubt played in the back of Mackenzie’s mind, but she wasn’t positive it wasn’t put there by Isolde. “And on that note, I’m going to take myself off. You all can plan this without giving her…” She tapped her temple. “…any idea of what’s going to happen.”
“Teddie, be a darling and go with her. Perhaps the two of you can share a cup of tea while the rest of us talk.” Alastair shot Evie a meaningful look.
“Of course, Mr. Thorne. Of course.” She looped her arm through Mackenzie’s. “Come, dear. Let me tell you about the time my nephew was in short pants.”
Mackenzie laughed. “Short pants? How antiquated a word. Ouch!” She rubbed her side where Evie had pinched her.
“That’s what sassy young women get for talking back to their elders.”
“So you’re where the Thornes get their mean streak.”
“Bloody hell! It has to be here somewhere,” Sebastian muttered. “How can you see the window from downstairs and still have no ability to see the door from up here, Dethridge?”
“Maybe because your house is a damned maze,” Damian retorted on a growl.
“Every other magical thing in this place calls to the Thornes. You’re their relation, and the Aether to boot. The fucking book should call to you, for shit’s sake.”
“You know, Drake, I’m ab—”
“Gentlemen!” Spring spun around and put her hands on her hips. “If you two are going to bicker like a pair of toddlers, then I’m leaving you here.”
“I beg you pardon, Ms. Thorne.” Sebastian shared a sheepish look with his nemesis turned ally.
“You can call me Spring since you’ve married Mack and we’re family now.” She nodded to him then faced Damian. “Now, as the Aether, you have the power to reveal the room. Why are you stalling?”
Sebastian’s heart began a resounding thud in his ears. Surely he’d misheard?
“Stalling?” He glared at Damian. “What gives, Dethridge?”
A small smile tugged at Damian’s lips as he studied Spring. “You truly are as brilliant as Alastair claims, aren’t you?”
“Probably more so,” Spring said matter-of-factly, without any vanity. “Again, I ask, why are you stalling?”
“Honestly? I’m worried we are playing into my mother’s hands by finding this book.” He ran his fingers through his hair and gave a weary sigh. “I can admit it to the two of you, but I’m not sure I know how to deal with her when the time comes.”
Spring hugged Damian.
Sebastian was at a loss as to which of the two of them were more surprised, him or Damian.
“What was that for, and how do I get one of those?” Sebastian joked.
Spring’s light, musical laughter was like a blanket of joy wrapping around them. The sound brought with it happiness and a sense of well-being. How she managed to do that in such trying times was in question.
“I know about tough decisions, Damian,” she told him in a more serious vein. “I’m not sure how much either of you know about my story, but I’ve been to hell and back. My presence here today proves anything is possible if the will is strong enough.” Her eyes took on a soft light. “Knox was forced to kill his own mother to save me. He didn’t even care for her as you did your mother, and yet he lives with the guilt of what he had to do.”
“And I’d do it all again. A million times for you, sweetheart.” Knox’s voice came to them, although the man himself wasn’t visible.
Spring simply
grinned in the face of Sebastian’s surprise. “I know you would, darling. Now show yourself. No sense cloaking yourself when we all know you’re here.”
With a shimmer of light, Knox appeared. He was leaning against the wall, his burly arms crossed over his chest and his loving gaze locked onto his beautiful wife. “Like Damian said. Brilliant.”
“It didn’t take a brain like mine to know you weren’t letting me out of your sight, you overbearing brute,” she teased. She sent him a laughing look. “And you didn’t even growl or threaten to rip Damian in half when I hugged him.”
“I thought about it.” Knox shoved off the wall and strode to where she stood, beaming at him. He brushed back the hair from her neck and placed a light kiss at the hollow of her throat. “Oh, how I thought about it.”
“Pfft. Now, tell Damian the story of when we were in the woods by our clearing. I think it might help him make a decision.”
“I’ve already made it, Spring. Your young man can hold onto his secrets.” Damian clapped Knox on the back. “There was never any doubt as to what I needed to do when or if my mother returns. I want my daughter to grow up and experience what you two have.” He shot a look at Sebastian. “What you and Mackenzie have. With Isolde awake, none of that is possible. She’ll destroy the magical community for revenge.”
The hallway grew disturbingly quiet after his comment. Each of them understood what they faced should they fail to stop her.
“Then let’s quit fiddle-farting around, as my aunt GiGi would say, and get to finding the passage to the secret room. I want to have time to study that book.” Spring wrapped her arm through her husband’s and smiled up at him.
Sebastian felt a pang in the region of his heart. Mackenzie looked at him with that same exact expression. He needed to be able to help her through this so they could build on their relationship as this young couple before him now had done.
He met Damian’s somber gaze, and this time, the pang was one of fear. The Aether knew something and was hesitant to say. Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to ask either. But he knew. As sure as he was standing here, Fate had a vastly different plan for Mackenzie and him than it did for Spring and Knox.
Sebastian closed his eyes and inhaled a deep, fortifying breath. “Let’s get this over with. I need to get back to Mack.” If only to tell her how much he’d come to love her in the short time he’d known her.
That was the funny thing about love. Time meant nothing. Whether it was one day or one million, he’d always feel the same. Love wasn’t measured by minutes; it was measured by the depth of emotion from that first moment, that first meeting of souls. She’d woven her way into his, and he would never be free of her. He didn’t want to be.
Chapter 25
It took no time to find the room after Damian made up his mind to reveal the stairwell leading to the addition above the east tower. Once there, they were all drawn to the cabinet where the book was hidden. The pulse of magic from the grimoire was stronger than any object he’d come in contact with recently.
Spring had been correct to call him out about leading them astray a few minutes ago. Seeing the warmth and compassion in her eyes had gutted him. As had the fierce emotion between her and her husband. The love Knox felt for her was as clear as the brightest sunlight on a cloudless day, and it showed when he’d dissolved the cloaking spell and stepped forward with an indulgent grin.
That love was something Damian could understand and respect. He felt the same for Vivian and Sabrina. Yet, here he’d been playing games with all their lives—his own family’s included—although not intentionally. All because he was trying to find a way not to murder his own mother. All because the little boy in him still cared for the woman she’d been during the first formative years of his life.
The one continual thought burning in Damian’s mind was how much he adored his child. How he’d kill for her. But his own mother hadn’t been so strong. She’d given into the lure of ultimate power, evil as it had been. She’d seduced innocents to get what she wanted and had thrown away those who cared for her, Damian and his father included.
Now, time was at a premium for Sebastian and Mackenzie. Damian’s stalling as he sought another solution, had cost them precious minutes together. The reality was, there would be none after today. Or at least not quality ones for the lifetime lovers they should’ve been allowed to be. He’d stolen potential memories from them.
Sebastian would have one more thing to hate him for, other than Vivian. And Damian experienced a measure of sadness because a part of him had always known the two of them would’ve been great friends had life dealt them different hands.
The kicker was that Sebastian already suspected. The wary expression on his face in the hallway had spoken volumes. As did the resignation following closely on its heels.
Damian swallowed down the apology forming on his lips as he once again met the knowing gaze of Sebastian. Instead, he pointed to the cabinet. “There.”
“I don’t see anything but a wall.” Sebastian put a hand out in front of him, just shy of the wood visible to Damian. “Is it inside the stone?”
“No. Stand back.”
Spring and Knox were posted on either side of the main door to the room, a mismatched pair of sentinels overseeing the discovery.
Sebastian joined them and crossed his arms over his chest. He, too, reminded Damian of a warrior of old. His watchful, somewhat distrustful, expression similar to that of Knox. Only Spring wore a look of barely suppressed excitement.
Damian figured she’d probably hate that he found her vastly amusing in her childlike wonder. She was a refreshing mix of innocence and worldliness, without pretentious airs. “Are you ready to put that incredible mind of yours to use, Spring?”
“Always.” She shot him a cheeky grin.
He was helpless not to return her smile. Turning back to the cabinet, he studied the door. Etched into the surface were runes similar to those on the garden gate, but the order was reversed. He placed his palm flat on the wood and was unprepared to be knocked flat on his back.
“Holy shitballs!”
He looked up into Spring’s astonished face. “You could say that again.”
“Holy—”
“Don’t,” he said, disgusted by his own gullibility regarding the linen press’ wards. “I’ll be tempted to toss you out that bloody window.”
“Over my dead body,” Knox growled, shifting forward to lend him a hand. “Don’t even kid about it.”
“My apologies.” Damian groaned as he rose to his feet. “Well, that was unexpected.”
Sebastian leaned against the wall, laughing like an escapee from bedlam.
“Found that amusing, did you?” Damian brushed off his clothing and tugged down the cuffs of his dress shirt. “No doubt, had the situation been reversed, I’d feel the same. But I’d like you all to focus for the moment and figure out how we are going to open the wardrobe to get to the book. Because if I can’t do it…” He shrugged.
Three heads swung from him to stare at the location of the grimoire. He had little doubt they couldn’t see it, but he imagined they desperately wanted to.
“It looks to be an early 19th-century mahogany, line press wardrobe, roughly two inches taller than Sebastian.” Damian ventured closer to the furniture piece and immediately detected the repelling force field he’d failed to earlier due to his distraction over Sebastian and Mackenzie. “It’s not going to let me touch it. If I had to guess, it’s protected with some of my mother’s blood.”
* * *
Sebastian weighed what Damian had revealed. If asked, he’d have said there was probably nothing known to man that could knock the Aether on his ass. He’d have been wrong. How his great-grandmother had known of magic strong enough to stop the Enchantress in her tracks would be something he’d never discover if he couldn’t even see the linen press holding her grimoire. But perhaps she had nothing to do with it at all. Maybe the all-powerful Goddess herself or one of her Guardians
had placed the spellbook there.
“So you don’t think it was my grandmother who put it there?” Sebastian asked.
“No, I do. I also believe she charmed it with Aether blood to protect it.”
Spring stepped forward, her hand raised. In an attempt to protect her from getting the shock of her life, Sebastian grabbed her wrist. “I wouldn’t, Spring. His mother’s blood also contained Thorne blood, if I’m not mistaken.”
“But some entity revealed this to Mack, which means it believed she could access it. As someone from the same line, I should be able to open it, too.”
Spring’s reasoning was sound, yet he didn’t care to risk her getting hurt.
Damian appeared to agree because he said, “I think we should let Sebastian try it first.”
Sebastian moved closer to where the linen press was located. “Tell me what to do.”
Spring answered first. “If it’s blood magic, you need to find the original spell to reverse it. As a Drake, you might need to use some of your own to counteract whatever shield your grandmother put in place. Grandpa Nate or Grandma Evie might know what she used if they are the Guardians.”
“But Nathanial wasn’t around then.” Damian shook his head. “None of us were.”
“What do you mean? I thought he was the Guardian?”
“He took over from the last one in exchange for his life. That’s how it works. Nathanial made a deal with Isis. If she brought Evie back to stand by his side, they would agree to watch and be here when the prophecy unfolds.”
“The ultimate power couple,” Knox said softly. “The Goddess would’ve supercharged them. Like she did for us, sweetheart.”
Spring nodded, catching what he was saying. “So, we have two extra powerful couples on the property. Between the four of us, we should be able to keep Isolde from rising up to create havoc.”
“Or to stop Mackenzie.” Sebastian didn’t miss the grim realization that took over their expressions. “I know we keep ignoring it, but the fact she’s been possessed and is likely to be again, isn’t easily dismissed.”
