by T. M. Cromer
“Ryker Gillespie’s life for your own, Thorne. That’s the payment I require.”
“Leave Ryker and take me now,” Ryker heard Alastair respond. “Or are you too much of a coward to face me alone, Beecham?”
“Nice try, Thorne. But I’m not stupid enough to face you here with your family present. I know I’m no match against that type of power.”
“You’ll never be a match for me, you fool.”
Upon his retreat, Harold shouted, “I’ll tell you the when and where.”
The second they were clear of the wards, Beecham gripped Ryker’s arm and teleported. They arrived in a clearing very similar to the one between the Thorne and Carlyle estates.
“What do we do now, boss?” Wilson asked.
“Go get Perkins, Burnett, and Rivers. Once we secure the area, we wait. Alastair won’t be able to help himself. He’ll come for Gillespie, and when he does, we’ll end him once and for all.”
“You’re a fool if you think so, Beecham,” Ryker retorted. “Alastair will wipe the floor with you and not break a sweat doing it.”
“Shut up, or I’ll kill you right now and save myself the hassle afterward.”
24
GiGi was enraged. One second, it seemed as if everything was going to plan, and the next, chaos. In one split second, Beecham had turned the tables. She struggled free of Sebastian’s embrace and socked him in the gut. His grunt of pain did nothing to ease her fury.
“Don’t you ever treat me like I’m helpless again. I will rip out your windpipe,” she snarled.
“Got it,” he croaked.
She stormed to where Councilman Smythe was running his hands through his thinning hair.
“I’m going to tear Harold Beecham apart limb by limb. If you have any objections, speak now.”
Smythe paled. “Nope, no objections.”
“Good.” She didn’t pause to consult with anyone else. Touching her bracelet, she connected with Quentin. Not caring who heard her or thought she was crazy for speaking aloud, she said, “I need a location. Now.”
“I’m on it.”
“Get back to me, asap.” She released the stone and shouted, “Knox!”
The double doors opened, and the man in question entered.
“I need you.”
“I’m always of service to you, Ms. GiGi,” he said with a half-smile. His eyes missed nothing as they scanned the room. His gaze settled on his fiancée in her old lady disguise. “You okay, love?”
“Harold Beecham abducted Ryker at gunpoint,” Spring blurted.
“That was going to be my next guess,” he muttered. “Go to Thorne Manor and stay there… please,” he added with a soft smile. “I need to know you’re out of danger.”
“Of course.”
Quentin teleported directly into the chamber, confounding everyone present.
“I have a longitude and latitude, Ms. GiGi,” he told her.
“Where—?”
She was cut off by Smythe as he called for the wards to be checked.
“He’s descended from Zeus, you bloody fool. It’s only reasonable he can bypass the wards,” Georgie snapped at him. “Go save your young man, GiGi.”
Quentin gave Georgie a slow perusal and grinned. “Another prickly pear. Be still, my beating heart.”
“I’m going to remove your heart from your chest if you pause to flirt, Quentin,” GiGi warned.
He swept her into his embrace and kissed her temple. “Don’t be jealous, Ms. GiGi. You’re my main squeeze.” With an inquiring look at Knox, he asked, “You coming?”
“Lead the way.”
Alastair called her name. “We need a solid plan. Don’t rush off. You could get yourself or Ryker killed.”
“What about us? Are you not worried for me or Knox?” Quentin taunted good-naturedly.
“Pfft. You have the luck of the very devil, son. It’s my sister I’m worried about.”
“I do have a plan, Al. I’ve had it from the beginning. Don’t get in my way,” she told him. If she’d had a camera, she’d have snapped a shot of his startled countenance for posterity. Few questioned Alastair, and fewer still went against his mandate.
“Have a care, sister.”
“I always do, brother.”
Just as Quentin’s magic fired up GiGi’s cells for a teleport, Leonie rushed forward.
“Wait!” she called. “I’m going, too.”
Quentin looked to GiGi for permission.
“I think it’s better if you stay here,” she told Leonie. “You have a son to think about.”
“It’s because of my son I want to do this. I don’t want my mother’s betrayal to be his legacy. I want to help, and if Harold is using black magic on Ryker, I believe I can.”
GiGi met her brother’s eyes across the distance. The silent question was answered with his nod. “Fine. Grab your bag.”
The four of them arrived one hundred yards from the clearing and got their bearings. If GiGi squinted hard, she could make out figures in the glen.
“Where is this place?” she asked Quentin. “I can feel the vibration of the ground, and the air around us is practically crackling with the magic. It has to be a sacred spot.”
“This land used to belong to the Beecham family about a hundred years ago. They went into debt from quite a few bad financial decisions. It seems not a one of them had a head for business.”
“With Harold’s ethics, I’d have thought he would’ve used magic for personal gain,” GiGi murmured thoughtfully.
“Oh, he did. But he seems to be the exception to the rule. The Beecham clan was actually quite honorable throughout time.” Knox inserted. When she sent him a questioning look, he shrugged and grinned. “Research is my passion.”
“That and the lovely Spring,” Quentin stated, grinning.
“Don’t make me hurt you,” Knox retorted.
“Are they always like this,” Leonie asked, eyes wide.
“Pretty much.” GiGi commanded everyone’s attention and gestured to the men. “Both of you have the ability to stop or alter time. I think it would be a good idea to use this to take out the guards.”
“Ah, the old one-two punch!” Quentin laughed.
Leonie opened her mouth, and GiGi forestalled her with a shake of her head. “No, he’s never serious.”
“I intend to confront Harold directly when all his backup is gone,” she concluded. “Questions?”
“You should know black magic doesn’t necessarily die with the practitioner wielding the power.” Leonie’s eyes darted from person to person as if trying to impart information of great importance.
It sunk in what she was saying, and GiGi wanted to lose the contents of her stomach. Instead, she crossed one arm under her breasts and rubbed the spot between her brows with her other hand. The struggle to stay focused and not panic was real. If Ryker died because of some black magic curse, GiGi’s heart would break into a million pieces.
“What do you suggest?”
“A lightning strike.”
All three stared at Leonie, mouths agape.
“Come again?” Knox demanded.
“Well, it d-doesn’t have to be l-lightning, but it has to be strong enough to sever the c-connection,” Leonie stammered.
“Explain,” GiGi barked.
“It’s like restarting the heart with paddles after a person has flatlined. The current will reawaken a victim’s magic to battle the invading magic.” She threw back her shoulders and lifted her chin in the face of their disbelief. “There are other, better—or, er, safer—ways, but we don’t have time for a ceremony.”
“I can’t believe I have to electrocute my husband,” GiGi muttered with a shake of her head.
“I can do it,” Knox offered softly.
She shook her head again, this time more firmly. “I need you to pause time for me to hand Ryker the knife. He should deliver the death blow to Beecham for what he’s done.”
They discussed various options and strategiz
ed as Leonie squatted and dug into her bag. Once again, she removed the items she might need for a voodoo ceremony.
“I’ll work from here and try to suppress Harold’s magic.” She held up a lock of hair and a stained scrap of paper. “Mother kept these in the event…” Her voice trailed off, and her large lioness eyes became misty. Clearing her throat, she continued, “…in the event she might need them against Harold.”
“If they are what I think they are, why didn’t she use them instead of attacking my family?”
“Lessening his magic wasn’t going to bring me back from where I was being held,” she said simply. “He might’ve killed me if he thought she was working against him.”
Leonie was right. Harold Beecham was ruthless. Delphine had never held any true power in that whole mess. It still burned GiGi’s ass that Delphine hadn’t tried to obtain help from the Thornes before so meekly carrying out Beecham’s directive. Preston’s death was still an open wound.
“Let’s go,” GiGi ordered the men. She placed a gentle hand on Leonie’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
Calling up the power from deep within her cells, she quietly recited Granny Thorne’s cloaking spell, adding a modification so the people with her now could see and hear her. Next, she called on her element and manipulated the wind underneath and around her to raise her up to the level of the treetops. When she glanced down, it was to see the stupefied expressions of her companions.
“Someone really needs to teach you young uns what you’re capable of,” she called down with a wink.
Arms straight down by her sides, she lightly circled her hands, one clockwise, the other rotating in the opposite direction, to generate the airflow she needed to move toward the clearing. She lingered ten feet above the spot where Harold held a gun on Ryker. From her vantage point, she could see and hear everything going on in the glen and surrounding area.
One by one, Quentin and Knox disabled the guards. Once Knox nodded in her direction, GiGi lowered herself to the ground. She withdrew a knife from her waistband and ran her hand along its length.
“Concelo!”
So as not to startle Ryker with her touch, she slowly walked in a half-circle around him, making sure the breeze was at her back to blow her light perfume in his direction. Recognition flashed in his eyes, but he was careful to keep his face blank.
Cautiously, she slipped the handle of the invisible knife within his grasp. It wouldn’t do to cut him. There would be no way she could hide his spontaneous flow of blood. A flicker of a frown came and went on his face when she leaned in to press her mouth to his.
She backed roughly ten yards away and whispered the word to reveal herself.
“What… how…” Beecham recovered quickly. “Nicely done. I’m surprised you didn’t attempt to disarm me. Where’s your brother?”
GiGi detected the tell-tale sign of nerves in his voice and flashed him a smile full of wicked intent. “You aren’t dealing with my brother today, Harold. You’re dealing with me.” Holding up her arms, she pulled ions from the surrounding air and supercharged her power. Blue light sparked between her fingertips.
“Oh, shit,” muttered Ryker. “Give up now, Harold. It will go better for everyone.”
Only her husband could joke with a gun pointed at his head.
GiGi wanted to laugh but curbed the impulse. “Put the gun down, Harold,” she said softly. “Your reign of terror is finished. If you let Ryker go unharmed, I’ll let you live,” she lied.
“You’re a liar. Your entire family is full of liars!” His eyes flared wide and spittle formed at the corner of his mouth.
The elements around them began to build; the wind picked up, and lightning flashed across the midnight sky. With only a single thought, GiGi sent a surge of power through the ground between them, creating a slight tremble in the earth’s surface.
Tone hardened to show she meant business, GiGi snarled, “I won’t tell you again, Harold.”
His gun wavered between the two of them.
“If anything happens to me, my men will gun you down,” he countered.
“That’s a common mistake men make, believing loyalty lasts after they’re dead. I mean, who is going to pay them? They have no reason to kill me after you’re gone.”
Blood drained from his face, but he tilted his chin up. “Even if you murder me, your husband’s curse won’t leave him.”
GiGi had to give Beecham credit; he remained stubborn in the face of her impressive powers. “I’ll take that chance.”
“Guards!” Harold shouted. Silence was his only reply. He cast a nervous glance over his shoulder. “Guards!”
Sauntering in a half-circle around him, GiGi tutted. “Do you really believe I’m stupid enough not to remove your army first, Harold?” A small smile of satisfaction twisted her lips as she noted the bead of sweat on his forehead. She pulled more electricity into her fingertips, creating a glowing ball of energy.
“Sweetheart, while I am enjoying your game of cat and mouse, kneeling here has become uncomfortable for these old knees. Besides, your victim is positively green. Time for you to do what you came for.” Ryker, although deathly pale, still retained a calm demeanor.
“You spoil all my fun, babe. But yes, I believe it’s time to take out the trash.”
Harold realized the exact second she intended to strike and turned his gun in her direction.
The report of the gun echoed off the trees lining the clearing, and the bullet stopped a mere foot from her heart. GiGi stepped to the side and shouted, “Now!”
Time corrected, and the bullet bypassed her. Without any flash or pomp, she hurled lightning at Harold and Ryker. Surprise stuck on her husband’s face as the current coursed through his body. As his eyes closed, she shifted the arc to the earth and grounded the electricity.
“Restituere!” she shouted, running for him and placing her palm flat over his heart. She pushed revitalizing magic into him.
His lids lifted to reveal an amber glow in his mocha eyes. “Thanks.”
“Time to end this.”
* * *
Ryker felt his wife’s ancient family magic flood his cells and restore his own power. Whatever dark magic Beecham had used on him was now fading, the connection having been severed by GiGi.
Harold had collapsed to his knees, the barrel of the gun pointing down. When he saw the knife in Ryker’s hand, he struggled to raise his weapon.
Pure savagery filled Ryker’s soul. With his right hand, he delivered a blow to Beecham’s wrist. Using his newfound energy, Ryker plunged the blade under Harold’s ribs and twisted up. As it pierced the lungs and sank into his enemy’s heart, he said, “Die, fucker, and may you rot in hell.”
Life left Harold’s body in a whoosh, and his face became a frozen mask of horror.
Ryker drew the knife back a few inches and struck again, He repeated the action two more times.
“He’s gone, Ryker,” GiGi said softly. She laid a gentle hand on his lower back.
He swore and dropped the knife. The blood coating his hands caught his attention. Somehow, he thought it would be as black as Harold’s soul. He also thought he’d feel more satisfaction when he brought that evil bastard down.
“It should have been Nash.” His voice was raspy and raw. He feared he was on the verge of a breakdown and struggled to hold it together. “Trina… was his mom. He should have been the one to…” He gestured to the body in front of him. “I stole his revenge.”
“No, babe. You did what was necessary. Gave Harold what he deserved.”
A shout came from the tree line behind them.
They turned to see Knox carrying a limp Leonie toward them, Quentin beside him.
“No!” GiGi cried.
“She thought she could help you. She left her hiding spot.” Quentin explained.
GiGi jumped up to check Leonie’s pulse. When his wife placed her hands over her mouth, Ryker knew it was too late to help the poor girl.
“I can try to revers
e time to save her. I was on the other side of the clearing, but it should count as being present.”
A blinding white light filled the clearing, and they turned to shield their faces. When the light faded, Preston stood ten feet away.
“Pres? Why are you here?”
“I came to deliver a message from the Goddess.” He walked to where they gathered. “If time is reversed, you take the chance of changing the outcome of this night’s events.” He gestured to Harold.
“She didn’t deserve this. She’s too young, and she has a son, brother.”
“He’ll need care,” her brother said meaningfully. “Both the mother and father whom he should have belonged to.”
Was Preston saying Armand was their reincarnated son? He hadn’t realized he spoke aloud until Preston nodded.
“According to Isis.”
“I don’t want him back this way, Pres. Not at the expense of Leonie’s life.”
Preston gave them both a searching look. “Even if it means you’ll not have children?”
GiGi covered her mouth, tears flooding her eyes. Ryker slipped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. They had a difficult decision to make. Either reclaim their son or give him over to Leonie’s care. The choice was no real choice at all. They couldn’t take a young woman’s life for their own gains.
“Revive the girl,” he croaked out.
GiGi’s choked sob broke his heart in two.
“Place her here,” Preston ordered Knox. A glow lit the fingers he used to probe Leonie’s wound. Within seconds, the bullet was in his grasp. A red light arched between Preston’s left palm and the hole in Leonie’s chest. When he was done, there wasn’t a scratch on her chest.
Leonie’s lids fluttered open. Her hands flew to where the entry wound should be. Confusion and a little fear lit her delicate features as she stared up at Preston.
“Welcome back, child,” he said warmly. He gestured to their group with his thumb. “You have some people who are very happy to see you.”