by T. M. Cromer
GiGi crowded in beside her to check Summer’s pulse. She lifted her lids and sent an arch of purple light straight into her chest. Within five seconds, Summer opened her eyes and glanced around in confusion.
“Welcome back, child,” GiGi said with a smile.
“Did I die or something?” Summer asked groggily. One hand went to her head, and the other touched her abdomen as her eyes flew wide in terror. “My baby?”
“Your baby is fine.” Aurora helped her to sit and smoothed back her hair. “You were only heavily sedated. Your aunt is going to take you to the old barn. Autumn is waiting there to help you.”
“Where are you going, Mama?”
“To provide your father with a little bit of backup.”
“Henri… he’s not in the house. I heard Delphine order him to get Holly.”
Aurora sent a panicked look at her sister-in-law. They both suspected something was wrong when they couldn’t reach Quentin. Now, they were faced with a decision.
“I’ll go,” she told GiGi. “You get Summer to Autumn, and then tell Alastair where I’ve gone.”
“Hurry, Mama. I feel something is seriously wrong with Holly.”
She kissed her daughter’s brow, simultaneously warming her cells to teleport. “I love you, baby girl.”
Because she wasn’t familiar with Holly’s home, Aurora teleported to Alastair’s study.
“Alfred!”
He appeared in seconds. “Yes, madam?”
“I need your stealthiest guards with all the firepower you can provide, and I need them now.”
“Yes, madam.”
He whipped out a cellphone and sent off a single text. Thirty seconds later, a half-dozen men crowded the doorway of the study.
“Tell Alastair I said you all are getting raises in your next paycheck.”
“Consider it done.”
“What do you know about my daughter Holly’s residence? She’s being held by someone named Henri LeRoux.”
Alfred rushed to Alastair’s desk, removed a key from his pocket, and unlocked the bottom right drawer. He withdrew a folded house plan from a file and spread it out on a nearby table.
“This is the drawing for Holly’s house. Mr. Buchanan provided it for Master Thorne when Holly moved into his home.”
She studied the layout and gestured to Alastair’s men. “Memorize this.” With a quick kiss to Alfred’s cheek, she thanked him. “Oh, and after everything settles, we need to discuss your use of the term Master. Unless I’m off in my calculations, it’s twenty-nineteen, my good man. No one uses the term Master anymore.”
Holly cradled Quentin’s shaggy, dark head in her lap where she sat on the floor. He’d been knocked on the head pretty hard, and blood oozed from a wound on his forehead. Their burly attacker refused to let her heal her husband.
She silently thanked the Goddess the man hadn’t arrived ten minutes earlier than he did. Right now, he had no idea little Frankie was asleep in an upstairs bedroom. When his head was turned to check for movement outside, she mouthed a cloaking spell for her baby. If the big man killed her, the spell would be broken, but at least for the moment, he wouldn’t hear if Frankie decided to fuss.
“Who are you? What is this all about?”
“Silence, woman. I don’t need your endless questions plaguing me.”
“Yes. Silence, woman,” Quentin growled softly, turning his face into her belly.
“He wakes?”
Holly was fearful of the gun the man waved in their direction. Cautiously, she eased her gaze from the cold stare of the barrel to glance down at Quentin. “No, he talks in his sleep.”
The golden-eyed man watched for any sign of a lie.
“Seriously, it’s annoying. Talk, talk, talk, twenty-four seven,” she babbled. No doubt Quentin would make her pay for that lie if they got out of this alive.
“Shut up. You annoy me.”
“Me, too,” grumbled Quentin.
The man charged to where she rested with her back to the sofa. He drew back his booted foot. Before he could swing it forward to connect, Quentin rolled and aimed a punch right for the guy’s ballsack. Even Holly winced when Quentin’s powerful fist hit his intended target.
Still, the man had the presence of mind to turn the gun on them, but he was no match for the power of the gods. It only took a simple thought from Quentin to freeze time.
“Thank you, Zeus,” Holly murmured.
Her husband shot her a wry look, removed the gun from the attacker’s hand, and conjured rope. He shoved the mocha-skinned man to the ground, not showing an ounce of sympathy when the guy toppled with the force of a marble statue.
Jerking his arms behind him, Quentin tied him. Holly jumped up and kicked the man in the head once for good measure. Time corrected, and she swayed from the magical recoil. Her husband had anticipated this and steadied her with an arm around her waist.
“Any idea who this twatopotamus is?” she asked.
“You can’t say ‘damn’ or ‘ass’ without sneezing and calling all the ravens in a hundred-mile radius, but you can say twatopotamus?” he demanded.
“I don’t make the cussing rules.”
Quentin shook his head and searched the man’s pockets. He withdrew an ID from a leather wallet. “Your twatopotamus is one Henri LeRoux. Name sound familiar?”
“Nope.”
“Not to me either.”
A noise from the stairway caught their notice, and in one smooth motion, he had her on the floor and the gun pointed toward the staircase.
“It’s John,” she grunted from beneath him. “He works for my dad.”
He eased her up and, with one hand on her shoulder, maneuvered her behind him.
“Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing in my house, John,” Quentin demanded softly. The silky menace of his voice was terrifying.
Holly suspected he kept the barrel trained on the other man’s head because the flak jacket the guy wore made a bullet to the heart impossible. If it came down to it, Quentin wouldn’t miss.
“Holly’s mother.”
“Mama?” Holly tried to shove by her husband, but he held tight. “Where is she?”
John glanced down at the dark-skinned man tied at Quentin’s feet and holstered his gun. “Outside. It took three of my best men to hold her. Damned fool woman wanted to charge in here with magical guns blazing.”
“You get Frankie,” she ordered Quentin when he released her. She hadn’t seen her mother since Aurora had been revived, and Holly ran to the door in her impatience.
“Like mother, like daughter,” he quipped. “Word to the wise, John, don’t let Alastair Thorne hear you call Aurora a ‘damn fool woman.’ He’ll smite you from existence.”
Holly ignored them both and rushed to greet her mother.
Aurora, who had seen most of what went on through the front bay window of her daughter’s home, hurried for the front door as it swung open. The impact of Holly’s fierce hug stole her breath away. They pulled back to search each other for any wounds or such.
“You’re all right?”
“I am, Mama. I promise. Quentin took a blow to the head, but he’s extremely hard-headed so I imagine it didn’t faze him much.”
“I can hear you, Hol,” he called from the upstairs window.
Both women looked upwards to find him gently rocking Frankie. Grinning, Holly waved and blew a kiss.
His laughter was the type of deep, sexy sound that curled a woman’s toes. Aurora leaned close to her daughter. “If I were twenty years younger, I’d give you a run for your money.”
Holly turned and shushed her. “Don’t say that so loudly. If he hears you, he’ll be unbearable for days.”
“Too late, my prickly pear. I heard everything. Here, take the baby. I’m running away with the hottie who doesn’t insult me constantly.” He stroked Frankie’s downy, dark hair and gently kissed the top of her precious head.
Seeing his tenderness with her granddaughter, Aurora fell i
n love with him more than a little. He was the perfect mate for the feisty Holly.
“In all seriousness, we need to get you three to safety. Where’s Alastair?” Quentin asked as he handed the baby to her mother.
“Thorne Manor. Now that you’re all safe, I’m going back,” Aurora said.
He shook his head. “That’s going to be a big nope. If anything happens to you, my life is null and void.”
“The boy speaks the truth.”
The sound of gun butts hitting shoulders was overly loud.
“I appreciate your diligence, fellas, but you’re a little late. Had I wanted to, I could have killed you all two minutes ago,” Alastair said as he strolled into sight.
Both Aurora and Holly moved to greet him, but Quentin pulled them up short with a hand clutching the back of their shirts.
“Ostendo,” he barked.
Alastair raised a brow and lifted his hands to his sides.
“Yeah, that’s your dad, Hol. I doubt anyone can duplicate that arrogant stare.”
“Where’s Henri LeRoux?” Alastair demanded. “I have a spine to detach and obliterate.”
Quentin caught John’s eye and gave him a meaningful nod. The security team leader turned a sickly shade of green.
“You’re mean,” Holly murmured to her husband as Alastair stormed toward the house.
29
Alastair made short work of dispatching Henri to the afterlife to join Delphine. Because Aurora needed to see that her children were safe with her own eyes, Alastair teleported them back to Thorne Manor. Quentin and Holly followed on their heels with a handful of guards.
Currently, Alastair, Ryker, and his son-in-law stood a few yards away as the women fawned all over one another.
“Should I be concerned or grateful that none of Delphine’s crew survived?” Quentin asked.
“I’d fall on the side of grateful.” Ryker slapped him on the back. “Oh, and for the record, fifty percent of the carnage was GiGi’s doing. Never piss her off, man.”
“How is it you’re still alive?”
“Yes, Ryker, how is it you’re still alive, my friend?” Alastair parroted the question, his voice heavy with amusement.
Ryker laughed as he started to walk backward into the night. “I was born under a lucky star, Al.” With a light wave of his hand and a snap of his fingers, he disappeared.
“That rotten S.O.B. always leaves me with clean up.” The wry grin on Alastair’s face belied the harshness of his words, and the men around him released a collective sigh of relief. He let his gaze flit from man to man, resting just long enough to make them nervous again. “You fellas really need to learn to lighten up,” he finally said.
Chuckling, he strolled away to join his family. “That’s one scary bastard,” Alastair heard Coop say from behind him. He grinned more fully.
“Ladies, see that line of men behind me?” The Thorne witches stared past his shoulder. “Spare them a few minutes, won’t you? They’re all still reeling from shock and fear from what happened tonight.”
The women laughed, and he looked back at the men. As one, they scowled, and Alastair joined in with the laughter.
Aurora sidled up and slipped an arm around his waist. They watched the younger generation gather together; the women soothing their male counterparts’ ruffled feathers.
“I have a bone to pick with you, woman,” he said softly.
“If this is about Delphine, don’t bother, darling. That bitch had it coming.”
He snorted and shook his head. She would see it that way and not that she scared ten years off his life by confronting a powerful enemy. “Did I hear your cat, Pye, creating a racket earlier?”
“He was adding to the distraction so GiGi could sneak up on Delphine.”
“Nice strategy. Your idea or my sister’s?”
“Autumn’s actually.”
“She’s as crafty as her mother.”
“Yes, she is,” Aurora said, pride for her firstborn evident in her voice. She frowned and twisted around. “Where’s Spring and Knox?”
“He’s still groggy from the sedative. Or so he says.” He pointed to a garden bench by an old oak. Spring cradled Knox’s upper body in her lap. As they watched, Knox hooked a hand behind her neck and dragged her head down for a heated kiss. “Personally, I think he’s milking it. Smartest man in the bunch.”
“Smarter than you, darling?”
“No. I’ll have an attack of nerves later. It will require all your loving attention.”
Aurora giggled and buried her face against his shoulder to smother the sound. He grinned and shifted her to face him.
“As a matter of fact, I feel the beginnings of that attack now.” He lowered his head and nuzzled her ear. “Help, I’m feeling faint.”
She closed the short distance between their lips. Just shy of kissing him, she said, “Nurse Rorie, reporting for duty, sir.”
“Oh, if we are playing patient and nurse, we need to find a bed ASAP.” He brushed his fingers over her ass and stopped just below the curve of her cheek. “I’m going to require you to wear a short white dress that stops here. For my well-being and all.”
He took her mouth with a fierceness that left them both breathless. Her hands curled in his hair, and she pressed against him so tightly no space existed between them. As his hand made its way toward her breast, the chorus of hoots and hollers reached them.
“Way to go, old man! I didn’t know you had it in you,” Keaton called between cupped hands.
“Get a room before I haul you in for lewd and lascivious behavior!” Coop added.
It took an effort, but Alastair shoved down the laughter fighting to break free. His lips twitched as he stared down into Aurora’s flushed face. Her pearly whites bit down on her lower lip. It seemed she, too, struggled to control her mirth.
When he could speak without emotion, he looked their way. “Keaton, the next time I see you, I’ll remind you just how old I am. And Cooper? Please, do try to arrest me. Also, let my daughter know what words you wish to have inscribed on your tombstone, mmm?”
The Carlyles lost their color.
“Is it terrible that I love terrifying those young men?” he asked in an aside to Aurora. “By the Goddess, I’d be surprised if they didn’t just wet their pants.”
Quentin and Winnie’s fiancé, Zane, turned their backs to Alastair, but the unmistakable shaking of their shoulders gave them away.
“The two smart ones at least try to hide their amusement,” Alastair added.
GiGi arrived in time to hear his last comment. “You’re cruel, brother.” She offered up a wicked grin. “But it does tickle one’s funny bone, doesn’t it?”
Aurora shot them both an admonishing look. “You are both incorrigible. No doubt, you’ve been terrorizing the neighborhood since birth.” She bit her lip to suffocate a laugh. Clearing her throat, she continued. “Why, I bet if I asked the parents of those poor boys, they’d agree.”
GiGi and Alastair shared an evil smile. “No doubt,” they said in stereo.
If he closed his eyes, Alastair could almost feel Preston’s presence. Could feel his delight at the siblings’ remembered mischief. GiGi grasped his hand and squeezed. She felt it, too. He tightened his fingers on hers. It was going to take some getting used to now that their brother was gone.
Putting his index and thumb to his mouth, he released a piercing whistle. All heads turned his way. He directed his security team to body disposal. It helped they all had magical abilities and a spell to cover the worst crimes. Next, he addressed the family.
“I know you’re all probably exhausted, but we need to restore the manor and reinforce the wards.” He looked to his youngest niece. “Do you think between you, Knox, and Nash, the three of you can come up with an unbreakable spell? I don’t want a repeat of today.”
“I’ll give Nash a call,” she promised and immediately dialed her cousin.
Alastair experienced a moment of panic. Not once had he though
t about Nash being attacked by Delphine or her thugs. When Spring gave him a thumbs up, he exhaled slow and steady.
“We also need an early warning system should black magic touch our doorstep again,” he added.
“What aren’t you telling us, Alastair?” Zane asked quietly. “Don’t hold anything back.”
He gestured his family members close and cloaked their conversation to prevent others from overhearing. Nash arrived in time to be included in the briefing. “Ryker, with the help of Nash and Sebastian Drake, will be investigating Harold Beecham from the Witches’ Council.”
GiGi’s countenance hardened, but she remained silent. It was anyone’s guess if she was upset because Ryker was playing spy games again, or because of Beecham.
Nash explained about Beecham’s position and how they suspected his involvement in Trina’s death along with a potential new uprising.
“Christ!” Coop swore. “Why? Knowing how many lives were lost in the initial witches’ war, how could he be so evil?”
Alastair stared at the ground and rubbed his neck, struggling to justify a hatred so deep. Perhaps had the situation been reversed and Aurora fell for Beecham, Alastair might feel the same. He’d want to tear down everything Beecham valued.
GiGi filled the shocked silence. “Evil comes in many forms. There is no accounting for it. Be diligent. With the exception of Ryker, trust no one outside this circle for the time being.”
“Within the coming week, I’ll provide a list to each of you. It will contain the names of people who have always been loyal to the Thornes.” Alastair paused and looked toward the greenhouse. “Still, even with that list, I’d be careful. Delphine was my cousin, and I believed her to be trustworthy before this week.”
Nash surprised him when he placed his hand on Alastair’s shoulder. “I won’t stop digging until we stop Beecham. I owe my mother that much.”
“We owe her.”
Aurora stood silently during his speech, but now she spoke. “Nash, you’ve had no reason to trust or like me. I’m sure to you, I upset your family, just as some of my daughters may believe Alastair upset theirs when I left to be with him.” She looked at all her daughters in turn. “What happened to Trina was brutal and unjust,” she told them all. “Like Alastair, I intend to help find the truth and see that Beecham pays for his crimes. Not only against Trina, but for what he tried to achieve here tonight. He made Delphine a tool. I don’t suspect he’ll hesitate to do that again. We need to be united as a family against outsiders.”