Autumn Magic

by T. M. Cromer

  Winnie arrived for the last of Autumn’s statement. “I agree.”

  Summer appeared frustrated, and for that, Autumn had a twinge of conscience, but she wouldn’t risk her life to please her sister’s need to bring Alastair into the fold.

  “However, I’m inclined to go after the stone anyway,” Autumn added, much to the surprise of those around her. “I know I said I didn’t think he should have it, and I still believe it’s too powerful for him to possess. But if there is a chance he’s correct and it can save Mom, then I’m going for it.”

  Winnie held up a piece of paper filled with her notes. “I don’t think it will be as easy as we originally thought.”

  “Pfft. It never is,” Autumn muttered. In a louder voice, she asked, “What’s the problem?”

  “First, the monks. You’re a woman. I don’t know that they will give you the time of day. The cluster where the Roerichs were headed is old school and private,” Winnie explained. “In reading more of Helena’s diary, I’m convinced that had her husband not been with her, she wouldn’t have gained their cooperation in hiding the stone.”

  Autumn made a face. “What’s the other problem? Or is there more than just the two?”

  “Yeah, remember when we discussed the couple theory?” The sisters nodded as one. “Well, I think you were right about the note in the margin.”

  “Dammit!” The hits kept coming.

  All the men looked adorably confused. Keaton was the first to interrupt the discussion under way. “What is this stone, why is it in a monastery, what does it have to do with your mother, and why is it too powerful for your uncle to own?”

  Autumn clapped her hands in a slow steady beat. “I’m impressed with how well you were paying attention.” She shared a speaking glance with her sisters before she replied. “The Chintamani Stone is rumored to grant wishes to the person who possesses it.” She took a sip of tea before continuing. “Its last known whereabouts was referenced in a diary by Helena Roerich. She and her husband were the safe keepers of the stone. But rumor about the power they held spread like wildfire, and interest in the stone went off the charts. They had to find a place to stash it to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands.”

  Summer finished the explanation, “Alastair believes he can bring our mother out of stasis if he has ownership of it. He’s convinced the stone is at a monastery in the Himalayan mountains. We…” She gestured to her group of sisters. “…believe we’ve narrowed it down to China.”

  Winnie placed a map in the center of the table and pointed to a small town. “This village is the closest to the one Helena described in her diary, but it’s not the name of the town she originally stated.”

  “Summer told me y’all believe this stone has to be retrieved by a couple,” Coop interrupted. “While I don’t understand exactly why, I’m willing to go with her to retrieve it.”

  “No,” Autumn said. “We discussed this. Summer’s magic backfires, and you aren’t experienced enough to help her. Remember your little attempt to learn on your own? The squirrel mafia tried to off poor Eddie.”

  “Then what do you suggest?” Summer asked irritably.

  “I’m the strongest witch with the exception of Winnie. I’ll head to China for a scouting expedition after I wrap up a few things. Probably early next week. If I need help, I’ll call.”

  Knox, who had been listening silently from his vantage point by the refrigerator, spoke up. “I suspect the couple issue comes in due to the initial legend surrounding the stone. It can drive the person possessing the stone to do terrible things. Love can temper its power.”

  “Makes sense. I’d be curious to discover more about it,” Autumn replied.

  “Yeah, some of those magic objects are fascinating.” He smiled his understanding. “And I can go with you. I’m the most experienced warlock of our line.”

  “Absolutely not,” Keaton objected.

  All occupants of the kitchen turned their shocked gazes on him, but it was Autumn’s gaze he met and held. Was he jealous at the idea of her spending time with his cousin?

  “Care to tell me why not?” Knox asked, amusement heavy in his voice.

  Keaton scowled. “Look at you. You’re a damned Greek God. I don’t want her anywhere near you.”

  “You act as if you have a say in what I do, Keaton,” Autumn laughed harshly. “You don’t.”

  His mouth opened and closed a few times as he struggled with what he intended to say. He didn’t have a chance to respond before they were interrupted by the arrival of Holly and Quentin, Holly’s self-appointed bodyguard.

  All the women sighed in stereo as he stepped fully into the room, their eyes glued to various parts of his anatomy encased in his tight muscle t-shirt and black jeans.

  “Who the hell are you?” Keaton demanded.

  “Quentin Buchanan,” all the women said at once.

  Quentin’s grin flashed. It was lopsided in nature but promised naughty things to come. Autumn’s ovaries stood up and took notice.

  Chapter 7

  If Keaton thought his cousin looked like a Greek God, it went doubly so for the stranger who stepped into the kitchen. The newcomer topped Keaton’s six-foot-three by another few inches and took up the remaining space in the Thornes’ tiny kitchen. Together with the shoulder-length dark hair, the cocky grin, and dark, hooded eyes, the man was sex on a stick.

  Keaton disliked him on sight.

  His ire spiked higher as he witnessed the lust enter the eyes of every woman present. Autumn had yet to take her gaze from the preening peacock. She dropped her chin in her palm and sighed.

  A quick glance at the other Carlyle men showed Keaton’s hostility wasn’t misplaced. They all sensed this guy posed a threat. If testosterone had a smell, it would overwhelm and suffocate the inhabitants of the room.

  When Quentin met his cold stare and winked, Keaton nearly came out of his chair. The fucker knew what he was doing.

  “What, you wearing some magical pheromone cologne or something?” Keaton asked. Disdain dripped from his words.

  The bastard had the nerve to laugh. Christ, even his belly laugh was sexy. Yep, Keaton definitely hated him.

  Knox chuckled and was the first to offer his hand.

  “Someone snap a pic,” Autumn said. “I need this for cold nights in Maine.”

  “You can have me for cold nights in Maine, gorgeous,” Quentin had the nerve to respond.

  “That’s going to be awfully difficult when I rip off your junk and stuff it up your ass,” Keaton growled.

  All heads spun his way with varying degrees of shock or amusement. The last being Quentin. Obviously, he didn’t feel Keaton was a threat.

  “I don’t mind cuddling instead. Whatever the women want, dude,” the guy had the nerve to say.

  Autumn’s sexy, musical laugh—the one Keaton hadn’t heard in years—rang out and socked him in the gut. He wanted to swear a blue streak.

  It was Holly who backhanded Quentin in his rock-hard abs and ordered, “Knock it off, Romeo. We have work to do.”

  “I’m an excellent multitasker,” Quentin said. “You’d know that if only you’d let me—”

  She clamped a hand over his grinning mouth, and her face turned the color of a beet. “Shut it,” she hissed. “It’s never happening.”

  Quentin removed her hand, but not before dropping a kiss onto her palm. “Keep telling yourself that, my love.”

  “Be a sport and take one for the team, Holly. Then that sonofabitch will stop ogling my woman,” Coop said.

  “Sorry to be a buzzkill, man, but I’ll always ogle the women. It’s like saying an artist isn’t allowed to appreciate a masterpiece.”

  “Oh, I think he just called me a masterpiece,” Summer sighed.

  Coop pulled her to his side and dropped a kiss on her lips. “You’re my masterpiece, but you’re remaining in my private collection.”

  She giggled and snuggled close. “Sweet talker.”

  Keaton nearly gagge
d at all the sexual vibes floating around the room. To redirect the conversation, he tapped the map. “Can we get back to the subject at hand? The damned stone.”

  Autumn stood and suggested they all adjourn to the living room where there was more seating. “I’ll brew more coffee.”

  Quentin stepped forward. “I’ll help.”

  Outraged, Keaton surged to his feet and, in the process, sent his chair skittering across the wood floor into the cabinets. “If anyone is helping her, it’s me.”

  The other man’s lips twisted into a mocking half-smile. “It’s only coffee, man, but if you need to get territorial about the brew, I get it.”

  Violence—cold, swift, and deadly—danced between the two men.

  The warm touch of Autumn’s palm as she cupped Keaton’s chin, snapped him out of his caveman attitude. He allowed her to turn his head while his eyes still blazed a warning at Quentin.

  “Keaton,” she said softly. Their gazes connected. “Enough.”

  Her fingers lightly stroked along his jawline and brought the tightened muscles there to his attention. With an effort, he unclenched his jaw and stopped grinding his teeth.

  “He’s a flirt. Nothing more,” she assured him.

  “I’m hurt. You might as well have castrated me and put me out to pasture, darlin’,” Quentin complained, hand over his heart.

  “Not a bad idea,” Keaton snapped.

  The other man grinned and touched two fingers to his forehead before he swept from the room.

  “He’s awesome eye candy, but he might as well have Holly’s name tattooed on his forehead,” Autumn said with a light laugh. “Watch and you’ll see; he is never far from her side. And she’s the only one he ever calls ‘my love’.”

  Keaton studied Autumn for a full minute as she removed mugs from the cabinet and scooped grounds into the coffee filter. “You didn’t have to ease my mind. Why did you?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe I don’t like bloodshed in the kitchen.”

  “I think we need to deal with whatever is still between us.”

  “And what is that, Keaton? A residual feeling of jealousy and distrust?”

  “I think it’s more along the lines of this,” he said and pulled her into his arms.

  He paused long enough to make sure she wanted his kiss then lowered his lips to hers. When he met with no resistance from her, his tongue dipped into the warm hollow of her mouth.

  Her arms came up, and her fingers twisted into the hair at the base of his neck. Her little moan of pleasure shot straight to his groin. Keaton couldn’t get enough. Her taste nearly sent him over the edge of reason.

  “Oh! Sorry,” Spring chirped from somewhere behind them.

  He heard the shuffle of feet to indicate she’d left.

  In slow stages, Keaton and Autumn detangled from one another, but their gazes remained locked. “Go out to dinner with me tomorrow night,” he asked, his voice heavy with want and need.

  “Should we go down that rabbit hole again, Keaton?” she asked softly.

  “I’d follow you anywhere, Alice.”

  “Oh, fuck. That was totally romantic,” she griped. “How do I say no to that?”

  Laughter overtook him, and she joined in. It was the second time she allowed herself to be carefree in his presence, and he reveled in it. He wasn’t lying when he’d told her he missed the girl he’d known. She’d been fresh and fun without trying.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “I’m going to regret this.”

  “Not if I can help it,” he assured her.

  “Go. Give me a minute to gather my thoughts.”

  Keaton leaned down and captured her mouth in a light, clinging kiss. “Does that mean my sex appeal scatters your thoughts?”

  “It means you boggle the brain. Go! And take these mugs with you. I’ll bring out the coffee and creamer.”

  * * *

  After he’d gone, Autumn sank down into the nearest chair. What the hell had she agreed to? Today she intended to spend time with his kid, and tomorrow night she’d scheduled dinner with Keaton. Goddess, she was already in deeper than she should be.

  She’d been telling the truth when she said he boggled the brain. He totally did. By the time they’d finished a conversation, she didn’t know if she was coming or going. All she did know was that she wanted him with an intensity that could never be assuaged. No one else had the ability to ease the ache in her soul.

  Yet every time they were together, old hurts resurfaced.

  Keaton seemed to be dealing with those hurts better than she, but then again, he wasn’t the truly injured party. She had been. Did she dare give him a second chance to ravage her heart?

  If, by some miracle of the Goddess, they did end up back together, how could Autumn bear to deal with Diane on a continuous basis? Diane was a constant in his life as was his daughter—the constant reminder of the child Autumn had lost.

  “The coffee’s been done for five minutes.”

  Autumn caught back her surprised scream. “Goddess! Way to terrify me!”

  Knox grinned and shoved away from the wall he’d been leaning against. “I have a good idea, but what are you thinking about so hard?”

  “What else?”

  “Are you going to give him a second chance?”

  “That’s what I was working through. There’s a lot of leftover baggage.”

  “If I go to China with you, he’ll lose his shit,” Knox warned then ruined it with a wicked grin. “I would pay good money to see it.”

  “Who knew you had a mean streak?”

  He sidled up to her and cupped her cheek. “I prefer to think of myself as devilish.”

  “Devilishly handsome,” she teased.

  “If only you’d looked at me first,” he said with a mock sigh.

  “Hmm, didn’t you say something similar to Summer?”

  Knox laughed. “I might have.”

  Autumn shifted to prepare a tray. “What was the deal with you and Spring earlier?”

  His open, friendly expression disappeared. “She’s a menace.”

  “Are we talking about the same woman? My sister is as easy going as they come.”

  “Or so she’d like you to believe.”

  “What aren’t you telling me, Knox? Did something happen between you?”

  “No, and in spite of her attempts, nothing will,” he said and smoothly lifted the tray from her hands. “Lead the way so I can watch your ass.”

  “Should I add an extra wiggle?”

  “Please do.”

  She loved their easy banter. Knox had the ability to take her mind from the stressful side of life. She figured it must be his calm, carefree energy. Not much fazed him—with the exception of her little sister apparently.

  Once everyone was settled in the living room and had coffee in hand, discussion of the Chintamani Stone began in earnest.

  “I can rearrange some things and leave for China as early as the day after tomorrow,” Autumn said. She held up a hand to forestall any argument from the crowd after she said, “And I go alone.”

  She shouldn’t have wasted the energy to lift her arm.

  As the discussion circled around who would go with her, Keaton remained quiet.

  She arched a brow. His eyes spoke volumes, and his warm grin made her smile. In that second, the knowledge he was meant to go with her whispered through her mind. “Keaton’s going with me,” she said, never taking her gaze from his. “Tomorrow I’ll see he has the basics of magic down just in case.”

  “What about your mayoral duties?” Coop asked him.

  “I’m due a vacation,” Keaton said with an unconcerned air. “My staff can handle anything that pops up this week.”

  “Why him?” Quentin asked, his dark, bedroom eyes curious.

  Autumn rose and placed a hand on Keaton’s shoulder. Once she touched him, she felt him relax from the challenge. “Because he speaks the Tibetan language and doesn’t rub people the wrong way.”

&nbs
p; Coop’s lower jaw hit his chest. “Dude! Seriously? How did I not know this?”

  Keaton shrugged. “I learned after college.” He covered Autumn’s hand with his. “Once upon a time, Autumn and I thought about taking a trip to Tibet.”

  “Anyway, he speaks the language, and I don’t,” Autumn stated matter-of-factly. “I think he’ll be helpful in communicating.” She cast a regretful look at Quentin. “No disrespect intended, but I don’t know you, and I don’t trust you aren’t in Alastair’s pocket.”

  Quentin’s randy expression disappeared and was replaced by a grudging respect. “Fair enough.”

  Knox held up a finger to gain everyone’s attention. “Since Coop first mentioned it to me, I’ve done a bit of research on my own. Alastair isn’t going to be able to bring Aurora back without a bit of help. Not only does he need the assist of six witches, preferably of the same powerful family line, he’ll also need another artifact or, more correctly, three.”

  “Your mother’s name was Aurora?” Quentin asked with a laugh. “As in Sleeping Beauty? Talk about the irony.”

  Holly elbowed Quentin and responded to Knox. “There are five daughters of Aurora. With Alastair to oversee the ceremony, that essentially gives us six witches. He only needs one more. But if it needs to be her blood relation, we can try to contact her brother, Trace.”

  “There’s still the matter of the next piece of the puzzle,” Knox said.

  Spring, who had been mostly silent until now, asked him, “Which is?”

  Knox pointedly avoided her and sauntered across the room to refill his coffee mug. “The original Mjölnir amulet.”

  “Thor’s hammer,” Spring said.

  Knox stopped mid-pour to gape at her.

  “While I don’t have a genius IQ in the one-fifty range like you, I’m not as dumb as you seem to think I am,” she snapped.

  Autumn tamped down her laughter. While their whole family possessed above average intelligence, Spring was the smartest of all the Thorne sisters with an IQ of one-forty-nine.

  Spring went on to explain the myth surrounding the amulet. “In addition to being the God of thunder and lightning, Thor was the God of healing and fertility. The original amulet’s setting houses a stone from Odin’s ring and was blessed by Thor himself. The runes on the amulet contain a spell for healing.” She took a dainty sip of her coffee. “It’s also said whoever possesses the amulet has the power to heal anyone or anything.”