by T. M. Cromer
“Have you? A magical means exists to show her the truth of the past.”
Alastair smiled as Ryker shook his head.
“Don’t change the subject,” his friend said as he cuffed him on the shoulder. “This is about you, Al. Your life is worth ten of Jace Fennell’s.”
The door opened on his last words. A pale-faced Aurora stood tight-lipped and angry.
Alastair heaved an internal sigh. There was no telling which direction her thoughts and emotions would veer. Either she’d read him the riot act for not helping Jace, or she’d be pissed he intended to come up with a plan to crucify Victor. It remained to be seen which plan of action would irritate her more.
“Listening at the keyhole, my love,” Alastair teased.
She neither confirmed nor denied his guess, but she did charge forward and flick his ear. Hard.
“For the love of the Goddess,” he grumbled, rubbing the abused part of his person. “What was that for?”
“You will not offer yourself to Victor Salinger to help my brother. Ryker is right. It’s a foolish thing to do.”
“So not the keyhole. A scrying mirror. And unless I miss my guess, my sister helped.” He grimaced his distaste for all the secrecy and antics flying about.
“Are you going to deny it?” she demanded.
With her hands on her hips and the reflection of the flame in her eyes, she looked like a virtual goddess herself.
“Ryker, would you excuse us?” he asked, never removing his unblinking gaze from Aurora. “Please shut the door on your way out and make sure my sister doesn’t utilize her scrying mirror.”
Ryker threw up a hand as if to halt any further information. “I don’t want to know what is about to go down in here. TMI isn’t good for anyone.”
Aurora frowned her confusion. “TMI?”
Alastair waited until the door closed behind Ryker before pulling her into his lap. “Too much information.”
Her struggle not to laugh was lost, and Alastair joined in. He snuggled her close and inhaled deeply. The light scent of Chanel soothed him almost as much as the feel of her in his arms.
“Leave Jace to his fate, Alastair. If he’s truly a gifted spy, he’ll figure a way out.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I made you a promise.”
“No, you didn’t. Or at least not one I remember.” She drew back and cupped his face. “He’s my brother, and I love him. But like the rest of us, he’s an adult and capable of making his own choices. If he decided to get involved with the Council and, by association, Sebastian Drake, it’s not for you to extract him from his mess.”
“How can I hold it against him when the grief of losing you was what provoked his poor decision to join the Council in the first place?” He brushed his nose against hers and placed butterfly-soft kisses along her jawline, leading to her ear. “My own actions have been questionable for the same reason.”
“Arabella Drake warned me that her brother was dangerous. He’s ambitious and wily.”
“Which prize do you think he’d prefer? Me, an old rebel who has seen his day, or Victor, the leader of the Désorcelers Society?”
“You don’t believe he’d betray you after he’s gotten what he wants? I do. He has a craftiness to his smile. I have no doubt he’s intelligent, darling. Please don’t underestimate him.”
“I rarely underestimate anyone. I value my own hide too much.”
“I can’t talk you out of this?”
“No.”
“Can I seduce you out of this?”
He laughed huskily and lifted her to straddle him. “You can try.”
17
“Don’t let my brother go after Victor.”
Ryker stared at his wife, careful to keep even the slightest hint of his thoughts hidden.
“Do you hear me?” She thumped his chest with her balled fist. “He’ll get himself killed this time.”
“What makes you believe I can influence one of your stubborn family members either way?”
She simply glared at him.
His eyes dropped to her mouth, full and kissable even compressed in her pique. When GiGi’s tongue popped out to moisten her lips, Ryker pushed down his groan. He wanted nothing more than to taste her sassy mouth and see if she was as delicious as the last time. How he missed kissing her. Missed so many things about their fiery relationship.
He turned his back to stare out of the closest window. If he looked upon her any longer, he’d be unable to keep his hands to himself. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to go after Victor either.”
“So you’ll help?”
“I’ve already spoken to him. I’ll try to reason with him again.”
He felt her approach from behind and closed his eyes to steel himself against reaching for her.
“Thank you, Ryker,” she said softly as she placed her hand on his lower back. “He listens to you, more so than the rest of us.”
Snorting his disbelief, he shifted away and walked to the sideboard against the far wall. Keeping distance between the two of them was necessary for his sanity. If she continued with these meaningless little touches, Ryker was bound to lose his mind. He uncapped a decanter, not caring what type of alcohol it contained, and poured himself a stiff drink. In one gulp, he downed the contents of the glass. Again, he filled the tumbler three-quarters of the way.
He glanced back in time to see her swipe at her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Part of him felt the urge to press the issue, but experience had taught him GiGi would never give up her secrets. Prying information from her would take an act of a god or goddess. “Don’t worry about your brother,” he said gently. “He’s got something—someone—to live for.”
“I know. It isn’t that.”
He desperately wanted to go to her. Wanted to take her in his arms and ease all her fears. Wanted to be her husband in all the ways that matter instead of in name only, as he currently was. Curbing his impulse, Ryker took a sip of his drink then stared moodily at the contents of his glass. He would find no answers located at the bottom of his tumbler, but it gave him something to concentrate on.
“Ryker?”
“What?” He took another swallow.
“I want a divorce.”
The brandy flew from his mouth and splattered the sideboard and wallpaper in front of him. Inhaling, he choked. The booze burning his windpipe. He coughed until the stinging stopped and he could once again take a breath.
Whatever he had expected her to say, it wasn’t that. Pain of a different kind seared his chest. Christ, he was stupid ass. How had he ever believed she’d get over his alleged betrayal? She never had and never would. He should cut his losses and run, but there would never be another GiGi Thorne-Gillespie. Never be another woman who was fire and ice and a whole lot of mischief rolled into one stunning package.
“If that’s what you want, then see to the paperwork. I’ll sign whatever you send me.” He grabbed the decanter and headed for the closest exit.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
Rage boiled up and out. In a move that startled them both, he hurled the decanter at the fireplace. The crystal shattered against the stone and rained down upon the hearth and surrounding rug.
“What the hell do you want from me, GiGi? What? Tell me, because I don’t have the first clue what goes on in your mind.” He stormed to where she stood, white-faced and frozen in place. “You hate me. I get it. I’ll sign your damned papers, then you’ll never have to see me again. Will that finally make you happy? Will it? You can go fuck all the Sebastian Drakes on the planet and forget I ever existed. That we ever existed.”
“Good.”
He’d never wanted to strike a woman more than right then. Balling his hands, he pivoted to leave. In his path were Alastair and Aurora, watchful and silent.
“You should be the first to congratulate us. GiGi and I
are finally getting divorced,” he stated with mock cheer.
Alastair’s cold stare shifted from one to the other and back again. “It’s for the best. For your sake, Ryker.”
“His?” GiGi screeched. “What about mine?”
“You, dear sister, are an idiot.” Alastair placed a hand on Aurora’s elbow and guided her back the way they’d come.
“What the hell did he mean by that?” GiGi demanded.
Ryker suspected his friend’s comment was due to the fact he’d known all along Ryker had never cheated on his wife, and her refusal to see the situation any other way was what had provoked Alastair’s acerbic response.
“Who cares? Have your lawyer draw up a detailed list of what you want. The house is yours. I don’t see a point in living that close to your family’s estate anymore.” No, he wanted to be on the other side of the planet, drowning his sorrows in a bottle. Or just simply drowning would do. How hard was it for a warlock to simply cease to exist anyway?
An idea formed. He’d be the one to go after Victor. If he failed, GiGi would still have her precious brother. If he succeeded, Aurora would have hers. Either way, Alastair needn’t put his life on the line.
“Thank you.”
Her voice sounded tearful, but he refused to look. He would never be able to look at her again if he wanted to retain his wits. Without another word, he teleported to his room to plan his next move.
“Ryker is going to do something stupid,” Alastair stated as he conjured Aurora a glass of wine and handed it to her.
“What makes you say that?” she asked.
Alastair sent her a dry look. “Have you ever seen him that frazzled or angry?”
“Now that you mention it, no. You believe it’s because he’s upset about the divorce?”
“I know it is. He loves her, Rorie. He’d gladly lay down his life for her should the need arise.”
“Even now?”
“Even now.”
“Should you go talk to him?”
“If it were me, I’d want to be left alone to nurse my wounds. Let’s give him time.”
“And your sister?”
“If I’m in the same room with her, I might say unkind things,” he huffed out.
Aurora laughed lightly. “Not you. You weigh every comment that comes out of your mouth.”
“Not always.”
“Near enough.” She sipped her drink and leaned into him when he sat down. “What really happened all those years ago? GiGi told me he cheated on her. She saw him half-naked and kissing another woman.”
“It was for the Council. They had sent him on a mission to an undisclosed location. The nosy GiGi was able to discover his whereabouts and went barging in, with no thought to his life or her own. In order to get the information he required, Ryker needed to pretend to seduce Marguerite Champeau. That’s the scene GiGi stumbled in upon.”
“The Marguerite Champeau? Heir to the Champeau fortune?”
“The same.”
“I never knew she was a witch, although I suppose I should have. She’s stunning. Poor GiGi.” Aurora would have murdered one or both of the parties involved had that been Alastair and the incomparable Marguerite. She paused in taking another sip of her wine. “Wait. You said ‘pretend.’ Did he not really seduce her? According to GiGi, they were both topless.”
Alastair’s mouth twisted in distaste. “He had slipped Marguerite a sleeping pill and was waiting for it to take effect. His mission was to steal important papers from her safe. He’d been in place for about a week or so, biding his time to make his move after gaining Marguerite’s trust. GiGi’s timing was unfortunate.”
“I’m not certain I would be understanding if you were to kiss another woman, top on or off.” When Alastair’s lips curled in a self-satisfied smile, Aurora rolled her eyes. “Don’t let your ego get the best of you, darling.”
“It’s not ego that has me smiling, my love. It’s your jealousy. I think you’re coming around.”
“Pfft.”
He removed the drink from her hand and secured her within his embrace before tilting her chin up to meet his triumphant gaze. “Admit it. You still love me.”
“I may hold mild affection for you.”
“Let’s see what I can do about making that a major affection, hmm?”
As he bent to capture her mouth, a knock sounded on the door. Alastair growled low in his throat before releasing her. “Come in,” he barked.
GiGi poked her head through the opening. “May I speak with you, Al?”
“Of course.”
Aurora stood and started for the door. “I’ll leave you alone to speak.”
“No, that’s all right. I came in for the name of a lawyer. Someone trustworthy to take care of our—my—interests.” GiGi gave a blasé shrug as if her emotions weren’t a raw, living thing. Yet Aurora couldn’t fail to see the devastation in her friend’s amethyst eyes. They had darkened with her pain—a witch’s tell.
“Sister, I’ve told you the truth. Ryker has told you the truth. Why do you continue to hang onto the belief that he betrayed you?”
“Because he did,” GiGi spat. “He didn’t have to go to France. Any number of other spies for that damned Council could have gone. How far would he have taken his seduction if I hadn’t arrived? How far did he take it before then, or after, for that matter?”
“GiGi—”
“Stop!” She covered her ears, her armful of gold bangle bracelets clanking in discord. “Just stop! If you don’t want to help me, just say so.”
“I’m trying to help you, you foolish woman,” he snapped.
It was time to diffuse the situation. Aurora swept in and hugged her sister-in-law. “Go rest. Alastair will have a name for you in the morning. We’ll talk more then. In the meantime, I’ll have tea sent to your room.”
GiGi wiped a shaky hand under her eyes and gave Aurora one last hug. “Thank you.”
After the other woman left, Aurora faced Alastair. “Yelling at her won’t help.”
“And you are the expert on my sister?”
“Yelling at me won’t help either. It will cost you a cold night on your own, you bloody brute.”
He sighed and began to pace. “Am I not supposed to help them? Tell me, Rorie, what should I do?”
Perching on the club chair, she crossed her arms and waited for him to look at her. When he did, she smiled. “Of course, we are going to help them.”
He gestured for her to continue.
“We are going to do what the family did for us. Lock them in a room together.” Her grin took on a decidedly evil twist. “But we’ll take it a step further and lock them in with only aphrodisiacs for sustenance. Naked and aroused, they will come around.”
“I can’t decide if you turn me on or terrify me, my love.” He drew her to her feet and toyed with the hand in his. “Who, pray tell, is going to dispose of their clothes? I have no desire to see either of them without.”
“Leave that to me.”
“I will kill Ryker before I let you see him naked.”
She laughed and rose on her toes to capture his mouth. “That’s what magic is for, darling. I know of a spell that will gradually dissolve their clothing with every harsh word that comes from their mouths. They either get along or sit in the nude. One way or another, I suspect they’ll patch things up.”
“Diabolical. I love it. We’ll put this plan of yours into action after we extract Jace.”
18
The next morning, the four of them broke their fast in a civilized fashion. Or mostly. GiGi sat, pale and silent, toying with her eggs and sausage. Ryker brooded over a cup of black coffee, his face a sickly shade of green whenever his eyes caught sight of the mashed up food on his wife’s plate. Only Aurora and Alastair maintained any type of conversation.
“I’m going after Victor.”
Ryker’s proclamation was met with a gasp and clatter of GiGi’s fork.
Alastair glanced at Aurora. Her grim expression
told him plenty. They’d discussed this the night before, both agreeing Ryker would do something out of character. It seemed confronting Victor was that act of recklessness.
“You’ll do no such thing,” GiGi stated firmly.
“Who is going to stop me?” Ryker was surly and looking for a fight. Seemed his wife had stepped right into his verbal trap.
“I will if I have to,” she said, lifting her head in a defiant manner.
When Aurora opened her mouth to comment, Alastair placed a hand on her knee.
“Why the hell does it matter to you anyway?” Ryker demanded.
GiGi stared at him mutely.
Ryker sneered into his coffee. “Right. It doesn’t.”
“Please don’t do this, Ryker.”
Shoving away from the table, he stalked out, not giving GiGi’s final plea any acknowledgment.
When GiGi jumped up, Aurora grabbed her arm. “Let him go.”
“He’ll get himself killed,” she argued.
“And why should that matter to you, sister?” Alastair asked the same question as her husband, hoping she’d reexamine her feelings before it was too late. “If you love him, you’d better tell him now while you have the chance.”
She let out a frustrated growl and rushed from the room.
“And then there were two,” he murmured.
“Pushing her won’t work. We should give my plan a chance.” Aurora picked up her piece of toast, examined the top, and casually bit into it. “I forgot how much I love good old-fashioned toast and jam.”
He pushed the plate of toast and a small glass bowl of strawberry preserves her way. “Here. Eat up.”
“I’m not going to take your food, darling.”
“Alfred will always make more.” He toyed with the spoon next to his coffee cup. “Rorie…”
She glanced up, toast halfway to her mouth. With one last look of regret at her breakfast, she placed the slice on her plate and sighed. “You’ve made up your mind to go after Victor. No amount of arguing on my side will change it.”
“I have to.”
“You don’t, but I can see why you’d feel that way. You have some made-up quest in your mind, and you feel you have to see it through.”