by T. M. Cromer
“All of this could’ve been avoided if you’d have just turned Alastair over to me when you had the chance,” Harold snapped. The real reason for his visit becoming clearer.
Harold had approached him, proclaiming he was certain Alastair was behind some shady dealings. He’d offered Ryker two-hundred thousand dollars to betray his best friend. Ryker declined. He’d been paying for it in small ways here or there ever since.
After Trina’s murder, Beecham came to him again with some lame story about Alastair’s involvement in her death. Ryker shut him down for the second and final time.
“You know better than to believe I’d betray Alastair Thorne for some trumped-up charge and pocket change.”
“Pocket change? That type of money sets some people up for life.”
“Like the real murderer of Georgie Sipanil?” Ryker countered, unable to help himself.
A dark rage clouded Beecham’s face. “You’ve sealed your fate. You’ll also go to your death knowing you couldn’t protect the Thorne family. They will all perish one way or another.”
“Aren’t you worried about how much you’re revealing to the security cameras?” Ryker taunted with a tilt of his head toward the corner of the room.
“Not when I control who monitors them.”
“Right.”
Long after his nemesis had left, Ryker stared at the spot where Beecham had been. One thing was for certain, Spring’s idea had to work, or the lives of the Thorne family wouldn’t be worth a spit.
21
“I’ll see my no-good excuse of a husband, or I’ll burn this fucking place to the ground. How about that?”
“Ah, the dulcet tones of my beloved,” Ryker called out, a wide grin on his face. “What took you so long, sweetheart?”
GiGi’s head popped around the corner a second before the rest of her. She sashayed straight for the opening, but Ryker held up a hand before she got close. “The space is magically wired to electrocute anyone crossing through.”
A dark cloud of anger settled across her exquisite features. She studied him across the distance and finally shook her head.
“What kind of bonehead turns himself in for murder when he’s supposed to be finding evidence to the contrary?”
“Your faith in me is astounding.”
She waved an impatient hand and checked over her shoulder.
Despite his dire circumstances, Ryker was hard-pressed not to laugh at her obvious pique.
“It’s going to be all right, GiGi. And if, by some horrific turn of events, it isn’t, I give you permission to shorten the mourning period. You can make it a year before hooking up with that English playboy.”
“How did you manage that without choking?” she asked dryly.
“It wasn’t easy.”
She dropped any pretense of teasing. “Are you all right? Are they treating you okay?”
“Mostly. They keep letting in unsavory characters.”
“Hey!” she objected with a hand on her hip.
“Not you, sweetheart. Beecham and She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Mentioned. Although, she did come to apologize for her part in shooting me and for our loss.”
“Did you believe her?”
GiGi’s head was cocked slightly, her expression was curious. No trace of jealousy could be found, so he answered honestly. “Yes.”
She nodded and remained silent.
“Beecham, on the other hand, came to rile me about Georgie. He all but admitted he had the camera operators in his pocket.”
Her concerned gaze snapped to his. “That’s not good. It means he’s getting reckless.” She glanced around a second time. “Where are Alastair’s guards?”
“No clue,” he said grimly.
“Step as close to the opening as possible, babe.” She crooked her finger.
He did, and she followed suit. She didn’t bother to look toward the lens monitoring their every move. Lowering her voice, she said, “When I go to leave, cause a distraction and get the cameras on you, okay?”
“What are you planning?” he whispered fiercely, struggling to keep his expression bland.
She winked. That was it. No explanation, no warning, just a damned wink. That gesture had trouble written all over it—as was the GiGi Thorne-Gillespie way.
He swore low and long.
“I’m going to cause a fight now, Ryker. Time to prepare to draw attention to yourself.”
“Be careful of Beecham, GiGi. He was here, taunting me, not fifteen minutes before you arrived.”
A minuscule nod was her answer. She raised her voice to yell, “You and your jealousy! I can’t take it anymore.”
“My jealousy! Boy, are you the pot calling the kettle black, sweetheart,” he sneered. “Fifteen years, GiGi! Fifteen fucking years of your emotional bullshit!”
She looked like he’d just slapped her, and it hurt his heart.
“When they fry your ass, I’ll dance on your grave, you toad!” she shouted.
Lifting her hands, she directed a blast of cold air his way. It crackled along the energy barrier and lit up the blue beams previously hidden by magic.
“It’s a good thing you’re protected by that damned ward, you pathetic excuse for a man. Otherwise, I’d—”
The sound of rubber soles slapping the shiny terrazzo floor echoed down the corridor.
GiGi shot another blast of air, and a shower of sparks peppered the ground. Ryker caught her eye. If the force of her small surges of power could cause that effect, could she take down the entire power grid with another witch if necessary? Based on her slight smile, she’d had the same thought.
“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”
A hulking male security officer placed a hand on GiGi’s arm, and Ryker lost all ability to reason.
“Get your goddammed hands off my wife!” he snarled.
The other man look startled at his reaction. “I’m not… I mean, I didn’t…”
GiGi backed into the wall and placed her hands behind her back. Instinctively, Ryker knew it was his signal to create a scene.
“Yes, you damned well did!” He reached for a side chair to smash against the barrier. Just shy of touching the electric fence, he released the metal chair and stepped back. Another shower of sparks lit the room.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed GiGi’s lips moving although any words were drowned out by his “temper tantrum.”
Ryker then slammed his hands down on the table, gripping the edges to fling it across the room. Two more security guards joined the first.
“Gillespie, if you don’t calm down, we’ll release a gas to calm you down.”
He froze in place. He wondered if GiGi had picked up on the revelation. If they already had a system in place to distribute gas, Mackenzie might find her job a lot easier than expected.
“Fine. Fine,” he muttered as he bent to reposition the table. There was nothing he could do about the chair because he refused to be burnt to a crisp. “I’m calm, okay? Just get that wench out of here.”
As one, the security team turned to face GiGi, who sported the perfect horrified expression. “Yes,” she breathed. A light flutter of her lashes softened the expressions of the two men. A female officer narrowed her eyes. Not to be faulted for her acting skills, GiGi produced a tear or two to soften the other woman. “Won’t one of you escort me out?”
“I will!” Both men answered at once as they surged forward to help this gorgeous damsel in distress.
Ryker nearly snorted his disbelief at their gullibility, but it would have given the game away. Instead, he yelled “Hag!” at her retreating back. GiGi stiffened and sent a narrow-eyed glare over her shoulder.
“Gentlemen, will you wait for me here? I have one more thing to say to my troll of a spouse.”
As if they were puppets, they nodded in unison and waited with their arms down by their sides, or as near as they were able with their bulging biceps. Ryker wondered if the WC shot these guys up with steroids.
> While passing the female guard, GiGi patted her hand and said, “I promise not to cause another problem. If you need to get back to your station, I understand. I have these two strong men to protect me if need be.”
With a slight frown of confusion, the other woman exited the room.
“Nicely done, sweetheart. I hope you achieved what you set out to do.”
“I did. But if you ever call me a hag again, you’ll rue the day you were born.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face to hide his laughter.
“If you think you may be in danger between now and tonight’s trial, holler Quentin’s name.”
“Quentin’s?”
“The mirror is hidden but spelled to respond should you need it to. He’ll be monitoring it until you head to the council chamber.”
“Do I say ‘mirror, mirror on the wall…’?”
“Funny,” she said in a tone that was anything but amused. She gave a toss of her hair and glared at him to carry on the ruse. “It was nice knowing you,” she said loudly with smug satisfaction as she spun away.
“I don’t know why I ever thought I loved you, you hagasaurus!” he yelled across the distance.
The two male guards struggled to school their features, but their shaking shoulders showed their laughter. The violet-blue eyes GiGi turned on him were as bright as he’d ever seen.
“You’ll pay for that!”
“I’ve no doubt,” he assured her.
GiGi teleported into a room filled with laughter. She caught Alastair’s amused attention first.
“Hagasaurus?” he crowed.
“He’s nothing if not original,” she laughed. “I really will make him pay for that one.”
“I think the Council hired the wrong person as their spy. You’re a natural.”
“Ryker said something similar recently.” She hugged her brother and turned serious. “Please tell me this is going to work.”
“It is. Did you catch the comment about the gas?”
“I did. I wonder if there’s any way to tell if that gas line runs to the main council chamber?”
“We need to bribe a maintenance worker or two.”
“Think we can? It looks like security is tight around Ryker.”
Alastair gave her a slow, confident smile.
“Forget I asked, brother. I can see you already have a plan.”
“I do. Now, tell me. What was the comment about Quentin?”
GiGi shrugged and twirled a tanzanite bangle around her wrist. “Never you mind. I have my own backup plan should I need it.”
Alastair’s eyes lit on the motion and the circle of stones within the silver. Ever so slowly, he raised his speculative gaze to stare at her. “A hotline to the powerful warlock able to alter time?”
“Perhaps.”
He laughed and gave her a one-armed hug. “Keep your secrets, sister.”
“I’m assuming you heard what Ryker said about Beecham, Al?” At his nod, she continued. “I’m frightened for him.”
“He’s been in worse situations before, and he’s always managed to return home in one piece.”
“Except for the time Marguerite shot him.”
He grimaced. “Yes, well, he did manage to survive that little incident. The man is like a cat with nine lives. He’s only used up one, so he should have plenty more.”
GiGi smiled in the face of her brother’s positive prediction. “Thank you, Al.”
“You’re welcome, sister.” He tugged his cuffs and cleared his throat. “Now, let’s see who we have to bribe to find out about those gas lines.”
As she watched Alastair walk away, GiGi smiled. If it was in her brother’s power, he wouldn’t allow anything to happen to Ryker. The two men were as close as two people could be. True best friends. As far as she knew, they’d always had each other’s backs and were always there for one another, with the exception of the time when Ryker had been shot by Marguerite. Even then, GiGi had to believe Alastair would have dropped what he was doing to help him.
“Al?” she called. He faced her and lifted a brow. “When Ryker was shot by Marguerite, was it you who helped him?”
His brows clashed together. “No. It was Delphine.”
They both registered the danger at the same time. GiGi could feel the blood drain from her face.
“Beecham may have his blood,” she whispered in horror. “If he does…”
Alastair sighed and strode back to her side. “We assumed he was using Trina’s for tracking. It could be he’s using Ryker’s.”
“What do you mean you assumed he was using Trina’s to track him?”
“Beecham’s little army showed up everywhere Ryker was over the last few days. It wasn’t coincidence.” He shook his head in frustration. “It’s why he turned himself in, GiGi. To remove you from Beecham’s reach.”
“That stubborn fool! Ryker should have let him come. It was easy enough to set a trap.”
Alastair let loose a deep, booming belly laugh, and anyone still remaining in the room turned to stare at this rare phenomenon.
“What’s so funny?” GiGi demanded.
“You may be even more ruthless than I am.”
A grin tugged at her mouth. “Never doubt it, brother. At the very least, I’m more persistent than you.”
“Pfft. That was never in any question.” The look they shared said it all. It spoke of affection and respect. “Go rest if you intend to, sister. The tribunal starts in less than seven hours.”
Didn’t she know it! She’d been watching the clock since the moment Sebastian told them the hearing would be that night. “I’ll try to take a nap. I can’t imagine I’ll manage any sleep, though.” She squeezed her brother’s forearm and headed to the room she shared with Ryker.
As she curled up on the mattress, his unique smell drifted over her. The subtle scent of sandalwood and new leather teased all her senses and filled her with longing. What would she do if this whole thing went belly up? How was she expected to survive a second parting from him? The first time was difficult enough when she believed he was safe and secure. There was nothing more permanent a separation than death. Burying her face in his pillow, she prayed as she never had before. Perhaps the Goddess would take pity on them and help them get through this mess unscathed.
GiGi must’ve dozed because the next thing she knew, a gentle hand was shaking her awake. Slowly she sat up, blinking to clear her head and clear her vision of sleep.
“Spring? Is it time?”
“Soon. Uncle Alastair thought you might want to get a bite to eat before heading to the Witches’ Council headquarters.”
“Did he find someone to provide the information on the gas lines and if they run into the main chamber?”
“Better than that. He found someone to hook up our canisters.” The underlying excitement in Spring’s voice almost made GiGi laugh. To look at her niece, one would believe she was all sweet innocence. They would be wrong. She was clever to the extreme and full of mischief, a female version of Alastair when he was her age.
“I’m expected to be there, along with Alastair. I’m not sure we should look as if we are descending en masse. But, should any of you wish to be there in support, I would suggest concealing yourselves in some way. You’re more than welcome to utilize my elderly lady disguise.”
“Yes!” Spring did a fist pump. “I’ve always wanted to try that one on.”
With a laugh and a hug for her darling niece, GiGi headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. “Remember, the key is to let your dentures slip and affect a cranky attitude. Will you tell Al I’ll be out for dinner in about twenty minutes, please?”
“Will do, Aunt G. Oh, and dinner is at Thorne Manor.”
It struck her as odd that a casual dinner would take place at the Thorne estate when it could just as easily be held here. She could only assume Alastair was hosting it at their old family home for his own purposes.
Nineteen minutes later, GiGi sailed through the dining roo
m doors to join her family. Alastair sat at the head of the table with Aurora to his right. Autumn, looking hale and hearty after childbirth, sat on his left with her husband, Keaton, beside her. The only thing separating the two of them was a small bassinet pulled close to the table. It appeared as if GiGi’s entire immediate family had turned out: Winnie and Zane, Summer and Coop, Spring and Knox, Mackenzie, Nash, and even Leonie with her son, Armand.
Now she understood. Alastair would remain cautious of Leonie until he discovered any hidden secrets. He wouldn’t take the risk of revealing his own home, but he knew, as well as GiGi, that Leonie had been at Thorne Manor and could pinpoint its location.
“Before dinner starts, may I have a word with Leonie?” she asked. She owed it to her young cousin to explain the circumstances surrounding her mother’s death, to explain she was the one to have pulled the trigger that ended Delphine’s life.
She led Leonie out on the porch and gestured to one of the wicker sofas, but before she could say a word, Leonie held up a hand.
“I know.”
Tears burned behind GiGi’s lids. There, in Leonie’s golden eyes, so like her mother’s, there was understanding and forgiveness.
“All of it?”
“Yes. Alastair told me at the warehouse. I know you were the one who shot Mother. I also know you didn’t have a choice.”
“But I did. I could have found a way to bind her powers. I could have—”
“No, GiGi, you couldn’t have. Voodoo mixed with black magic and a Thorne’s natural ability is powerful stuff. Harold tried to get me to turn to the darker arts for his benefit. I refused. It’s why he kept me locked up and preyed on my mother. She’d have done anything to save me.” Leonie shook her dark head and swiped at a stray tear. “I’m sorry for the grief she caused you. I’m sorry about Preston. He was truly an admirable man.”
“Two wrongs don’t make a right. We all know that, and still, I wanted revenge for what she’d done. Yes, my primary goal was to stop her from hurting anyone else in our family again, but I had hate in my heart. I can’t ignore or deny that, child.”
“Do you hate me for what she’s done?” Leonie asked quietly. It was as if everything was hanging on GiGi’s response.