Tonight and Forever Magical Romances Boxed Set

by D'Alessandro, Jacquie

“The color of royalty. You’ll meet other witches and wizards whose spells leave traces in other colors.”

  “Like the ones who left the Hall?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And the way your wand glowed red and green yesterday?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then what—”

  Nick broke off as a woman dressed in an old-fashioned maid’s uniform entered, pushing a mobile bar. She waved her wand, and the previously bare coffee table was suddenly filled with crystal glasses, plates and trays of ornate appetizers.

  “Refreshment, Your Grace?”

  “Whiskey, please. Nick?”

  Somewhat surprised by Abia’s choice of cocktail, Nick nodded. “The same for me.”

  The witch-bartender mixed the drinks by waving her wand, allowing the ice, glasses and whiskey bottle to dance in the air. Nick tried not to look surprised. Based on Abia’s secrecy in bringing him to the castle, he knew drawing attention to himself wasn’t wise.

  Still, he couldn’t help nerves crawling through him. He was surrounded by beings more powerful than him, with mysterious abilities he was only beginning to understand.

  “Her Majesty has been delayed,” the maid said as Nick and Abia’s drinks flew from the cart to the coffee table. “She will be with you presently.”

  With that, she vanished in a cloud of yellow smoke.

  “Let me guess,” Nick said, lifting his crystal tumbler. “Minglers are indicated by yellow, rather than purple.”

  Abia toasted him. “You are a quick study.”

  Sipping his drink, Nick found a smooth, toasted wood flavor. “Nice. Mystic made?”

  “Irish. The Quinns believe in tradition.”

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” the Queen said as she burst through a side door, causing Abia and Nick to surge to their feet. “That woman talks endlessly. I can’t imagine how she gets anything accomplished out there in California. I guess they have beaches, fit bodies and perfect weather, but really, Gardiff’s machinations are a serious matter.”

  Abia bowed, so Nick did the same.

  The Queen extended her hand, which Nick shook, though he immediately wondered if he should have kissed the back. He wasn’t up to speed on royal etiquette.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you, Lieutenant Westin,” she said.

  Struck by her dark beauty as well as an unmistakable sense of power, Nick mumbled his first name.

  The Queen smiled. “I’m Esmerelda.” She cast an affectionate look toward Abia. “At least in private. Please sit.”

  Nick and Abia returned to their seats on the sofa, as the Queen perched on the chair to his right. The maid returned briefly to hand her boss a glass of whiskey, then disappeared as silently as she’d arrived.

  “So,” the Queen began, “what news do you have?”

  “Nick has been in study all day with Malburn’s books,” Abia said.

  The Queen smiled. “Ah, yes. I’ve been there. Most tiring. I imagine you’d prefer more physical activity?”

  “I enjoyed the research,” Nick returned, unsure whether she was testing him. “Though I ran on the treadmill this morning.”

  The Queen sipped her drink. “Honesty. Isn’t that lovely? Yet you brought your own armor to a dinner party.”

  For the first time all night, Nick felt the weight of his sidearm. He recalled slipping it into the holster as he’d dressed for the day, just as he always did. Useless in this world, but instincts weren’t easily set aside. “A habit.”

  “Rather like a wand,” the Queen commented.

  “A bit, though deadly. At least in my world.”

  “If that’s your intent and your aim is true.” Her gaze, so bright, clear and green, so like Abia’s, penetrated his. And, yes, she was testing him. “So, exactly like a wand.”

  He had a hard time imagining sparks from a wooden stick doing the damage of a bullet, but acknowledged the Queen’s superior knowledge. “Thankfully, my experience so far has mostly been with the Statue spell.”

  “You and Abia were attacked by sorcerers last night,” the Queen argued. “A spell hit you directly, but you resisted its effects and managed to rescue her.”

  Abia stiffened beside him, and Nick knew her aunt’s take on the story wasn’t one she was crazy about. “Rescue isn’t the right word. We worked as a team,” he said.

  “Honesty and modesty.” The Queen studied him, then she addressed her niece. “Oh, yes, Abia, he’ll do nicely.”

  Abia faced turned bright red. “Please, Esme.”

  “I hope you’ll make a habit of defending the mystic world as you have the caporal one.” The Queen leaned forward to lay her hand briefly over Nick’s. “We need you.”

  Was she flirting, or was that a test, too?

  The Queen spoke again before he could think how to respond. “Some of us more than others.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “I have an idea where Nick might make an immediate impact in the search for Gardiff,” Abia said as dessert was served.

  After enduring a dinner where Esme flirted with Nick—obviously trying to get a jealous rise out of Abia, given the knowing looks her aunt had sent her for the last hour—Abia was more than ready to get the discussion back on her investigation.

  “Must we ruin the evening with rebellious sorcerers?” Esme asked, her gaze remaining glued to Nick’s handsome face.

  “Sorry to intrude with reality,” Abia said dryly. “But it’s happening now, so it’s sort of a priority.”

  “Pfft,” her aunt said, sliding her hand over Nick’s. “Gardiff and his rebellion will be there tomorrow.”

  Nick, to his credit, abandoned all efforts at going along with Esme’s charm. “Abia’s right. I’m here to get the scepter back.” His gaze connected with Abia’s. “I promised her I’d advance my skills as quickly as possible so I can help her and her team defeat Gardiff.”

  Esme fluttered her lashes. “I bet you’re skilled enough.”

  Abia clutched her wand to the point she was certain it would snap in half.

  What was her aunt, her friend, her Sovereign doing? She didn’t pfft away a crisis. She ruled with decisive strokes. She kept everyone on their toes. She made certain...

  Oh, wait. Surely this wasn’t some sneaky attempt to make her point about how Abia needed more balance in her life? With Nick, conveniently, being the pathway to relaxation and distraction?

  Certain her aunt was working this little dinner party to her own ends, Abia cast a Privacy spell. A bubble, not unlike the ones children blew from little plastic rings, formed around her and Esme, allowing them to speak without being overheard.

  “What, in Merlin’s Lauded Name, are you up to?” Abia asked.

  “Quite a number of things,” Esme said calmly as if she’d expected Abia’s spell. “He’d make a good lover for you, I think.” As Abia’s jaw dropped, Esme tapped her index finger on the table. “Plus, he’ll make a valuable ally for the mystic world. He’s very strong. Power simply oozes out of him, don’t you agree?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “He’s crazy about you.”

  Abia couldn’t help a charge of excitement at the idea. “Is he?” she managed to ask with pretend indifference.

  “Has to be. Very few men can resist me.”

  “Modesty,” Abia muttered. “One of the Quinn family virtues I’ve always been proud of.”

  Her aunt brushed her lips across her cheek. “Don’t scowl, dear.”

  “I won’t as long as you stop acting like a giggling apprentice witch and more like yourself.” She paused significantly. “You know, a queen.”

  Before Esme could manage a comeback, the bubble around them wriggled, then popped.

  “Ladies,” Nick said, “I’d rather you talk to me instead of about me.”

  “He burst the bubble,” Esme said in disbelief.

  Feeling strangely cheered by Nick asserting his talents, Abia understood why Malburn took such pride when a student managed a particularly
difficult spell. “See how handy it is to have a Crossover to dinner?”

  Esme’s eyes remained wide. “But he broke your spell.”

  Abia dug into her dessert. “He breaks Malburn’s faster.”

  “Skill indeed,” Esme commented.

  “So the studying helped?” Nick asked.

  “Probably,” Abia said. “But a Crossover’s abilities are largely instinctive, so Malburn says. You wanted to hear what we were saying, so the bubble burst.”

  His gaze held hers. “So my will can make anything happen.”

  “There are limitations.”

  He grinned invitingly. “What a shame.”

  Abia’s body throbbed. The man was way too appealing. “So...I think we can track Gardiff’s movements in your world. ” She cleared her throat, thoroughly aware she was changing the topic back to something safe, something she could handle. “He’s causing ripples by casting spells on the scepter pieces to transform them. And while caporals can’t see him, they can sense these ripples in their own way. There’ve been complaints of strange occurrences in midtown Manhattan.”

  Esme leaned back in her chair. “You mean the police reports.”

  “Strange occurrences?” Nick echoed. “Times Square is in midtown. If there aren’t twenty wackos reported every hour, I’d be surprised.”

  “These reports are going to be specific,” Abia explained. “A sense of someone following them, cold, creepy drafts, odd patches of fog and the like.”

  Exasperation flitted across Nick’s face. “That sounds like the vague, ridiculous report of every kook who stumbles into the station at two a.m. after rounding the bars on a Saturday night. Incidents, by the way, which rise sharply around Halloween, barely three weeks away.”

  “Oh.” Abia frowned. She hadn’t realized creepiness was a widespread problem.

  “Are you telling me mystics are responsible for all the silly psychic/ghost hunter/I-saw-an-alien encounters I have to deal with in the city?” Nick pressed.

  “Well, not all,” Abia said.

  Nick tossed aside his napkin. “Terrific. How’d you get police reports anyway?”

  “The IPSF employs information gatherers who discretely keep tabs on your world.”

  “Spies,” Esme supplied helpfully. “So what’s your plan now?” she asked Abia.

  Abia shrugged. “Gardiff’s wand skill isn’t the strongest, so he has to keep renewing the transformations on the scepter pieces every day or so, which is how I tracked him. We’ll keep watching for those.”

  “That’s working well so far,” Esme agreed.

  “How exactly does this tracking work?” Nick asked.

  “When spells are cast, they leave a mystical trace,” Abia said. “Experienced witches and wizards can sense these trails and follow them. In theory, with training, you'll be able to do the same.”

  “So I’m coming along on these missions?”

  Skulking around streets, alleys, warehouses and residences with Nick? Abia couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do in the dark.

  Oh, wait, she could think of something better.

  But, as always, duty won out. “Absolutely. Let’s get started tonight.”

  ~~~

  It was six nights later before Abia and her team caught their first break.

  She and Evan, one of her best wizards, were following Nick down West 50th when he turned sharply between two buildings right before Ninth Avenue.

  “After you, Commander,” Evan said.

  Because of the sorcerer ambush targeting her and Nick, Abia had decided she needed extra firepower for her missions, and Evan’s blasting spells, as well as his professionalism, were top-notch.

  Nick, it seemed, was an excellent tracker. Maybe due to his Crossover nature, or because he’d been a cop so long. Using him as they were, Abia had decided to take Evan and a few other team members into her confidence regarding his abilities.

  A calculated risk, but then wasn’t everything in life? If she couldn’t rely on her team to get them through the crisis, she didn’t see any path to success.

  She was about to ask Nick what he’d felt to request they turn when she sensed the spell traces herself. “It’s recent,” she said, confident the Shadow spell concealed their bodies as well as their voices.

  “I know,” Nick replied.

  “Second floor, above the Greek restaurant.”

  Nick halted. “Third floor,” he argued, glancing over his shoulder.

  “Bet.”

  “Done.”

  Cocky Crossover, that’s what he was. Unfortunately for Abia, his confidence only increased his appeal. Last night, as her team had briefed her over dinner, she’d found her gaze drifting to Nick often, reliving their breakfast in his apartment the week before.

  She’d swear the image of his sculpted, bare-chested body was imprinted on her brain.

  ‘Course the fact that she kept casting the Remembrance spell every night before she went to sleep might have to been to blame.

  “I’ll watch for sorcerers,” Evan said when they reached the second floor.

  Abia linked hands with Nick, then used a Travel spell to move them from the hallway into the apartment. She tensed when she noticed the room’s occupants were making out rather enthusiastically on the sofa.

  “Interesting technique,” Nick said, sounding amused. “Though my personal favorite was last night when we appeared in that bikini model’s bathroom while she was showering.”

  Abia jabbed her elbow into his side. “How could you possibly know she was a bikini model?”

  “The view through the shower door was pretty clear.”

  Great Merlin. “Try to focus.”

  The woman on the sofa sat up suddenly and yanked her top over her head. Beneath her clothes, she wore a black and red lacy bra. Her high, rounded breasts nearly spilled out of the cups.

  “Ah...that’s going to be difficult.”

  Since she’d spent way too much time lately getting aroused by the thought of him without a shirt, she could hardly judge. “A lingerie model, I guess,” she said, trying not to dwell on what Nick found stimulating.

  “If she isn’t, she missed her calling.”

  “No mystic has been here.”

  “I agree.” Nick linked arms with her. “Why don’t we try the third floor?”

  After directing Evan to shift his guard post, Abia held her breath as they popped into the next apartment. Thankfully, the place was deserted.

  “Oh, look, the sofa’s free,” Nick said, and before Abia could blink, he’d tumbled her back onto the cushions.

  “Are you out of your mind?” she demanded, fighting a groan as his lips trailed across her jaw.

  “No, I’m horny.”

  She pushed her way out of his arms, only to wind up straddling his waist. “Well, stop it.”

  “I’m a guy. It happens.” Even in the barely lit room, his gray eyes glittered with need. “And you look especially tempting tonight.”

  “We’re working.”

  “We’re always working.” He slid his hands up her thighs, pausing mere inches from the apex of her legs. “How bout a break?”

  “I don’t think—”

  He reared up and, bracing his hand at the back of her head, angled her face for his kiss.

  She knew he’d stop if she insisted, or if she summoned any speck of strength and simply cast a spell, but, oh my, he felt so amazing. She’d spent too many hours fantasizing about this very feeling. The excitement fluttering in her chest. The stroke of his tongue, driving her desire higher and higher. His labored breathing. His smooth, heated skin.

  Even knowing she had to find a way to come back to her senses, she clenched her fists in his shirt and gave into the exhilaration spreading through her body. He grew hard, and she pressed herself against him, eliciting a throaty moan from his lips.

  Regretting her loss of control as well as knowing she had to find her strength again, she broke the kiss, then pulled away.

  Ni
ck held her in place. “Later?” he mumbled against her cheek.

  She managed a jerky nod.

  Not looking at him as she straightened her clothes and pulled her wand from her pocket, desire was replaced by the insistent pulsing of a spell. “There’s something here.”

  “Yeah.” He captured her hand in his, turning her to face him. “Abia, I’m sorry I—”

  She laid her finger over his lips. “No need. Let’s find this thing and get back to the castle.”

  “My room or yours?”

  “Mine,” she decided. She could hardly claim waiting until the investigation was over was the best course for them. Not acknowledging their desire was affecting her concentration and her ability to do her duty.

  After squeezing her hand, he walked straight to the kitchen cabinets and opened the top door on the left side. From inside, he pulled out a pewter mug. “Your scepter piece, Commander.”

  Even before the mug touched her hand, she knew he was right. The ramifications of forever losing the item she held humbled her, and she was more grateful than she could express for Nick’s decisiveness.

  Barely a week ago this wasn’t his fight, yet he’d embraced the immediacy of the mystic world’s need and set aside his own countless times. He had to be exhausted. He’d essentially been working two jobs, plus training with Malburn every minute he could find.

  Her gaze moved to his. “How long have you known where it was?”

  “Since I turned off 50th.” Her eyes widened, and he grinned. “I should probably mention that the guy who owns this apartment came into the station to report, and I quote, a creepy sense of invasion, when he walked into the kitchen three days ago. The sergeant who took his statement told him he was working too hard and encouraged him to head to the beach for a while. Which he apparently did.”

  She scowled. “Cheater.”

  “Not at all. I simply combined your research with my gifts.”

  Barely resisting the urge to waggle her finger in his face like a teacher might a rebellious schoolboy, she tucked the mug into her pocket. “I think you need more training.”

  His eyes darkened like smoke as he wrapped his arm around her waist. “I agree, and learning from you will be an absolute pleasure.”