by T. M. Cromer
“Summer Thorne, you have five seconds to get your ass on this side of my desk or deal with the consequences.”
Her eyes sparkled with delight and wanton promise. “What is your intent, good sir?”
He rose to his feet and threw his pen down. “One.”
She backed away and giggled.
“Two.”
Summer turned to flee.
“Threefourfive!” He ran the words together and scooped her up. With his heel he slammed the door. “Now pull the shade.”
“They’ll know what we were doing in here!” she protested.
“What’s that? Having lunch? Necking a little?”
“We both know where your little make-out sessions lead, Cooper Carlyle.”
His smile encompassed them both. “And your point is?”
“No.”
“Come on. You show me your point and I’ll show you mine.”
“You have the least pointy thing I know,” she retorted.
“What the hell?” He dumped her on her feet. “Are you saying I have a small dick?”
“No!” she yelped. “I said it is the least pointy thing I know. As in it’s big and thick.”
And losing its hard on. His hands found his hips like an angry fishwife. “So you’ve seen a lot of pointy things?”
Disgust filled her face and voice. “You know what? I’m done with this stupid conversation. You want to sit here and wallow or find things to be angry about, be my guest. I have better things to do with my time than soothe your fragile ego.”
“My fragile ego. Yeah, okay.”
Great retort, moron!
“Call me when you are over your snit.”
He stood in front of the exit, arms crossed over his chest. “We aren’t done with this conversation.”
“Do you honestly believe blocking the door will prevent me from leaving?”
And that’s what it all came back to—witchcraft.
While he liked to think he was open-minded, it appeared he wasn’t. As a matter of fact, he was the antithesis of an open-minded individual.
“I know I can’t. I also know I hate it,” he confessed gruffly. “I also hate that you’re getting cozy with Alastair. I don’t trust that fucker.”
“Oh, Coop.”
She closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. His own arms caught her against him.
“You’re spending an awful lot of time with him.”
“I am. I think he’s lonely. But it’s more than that. I think he knows more about my mother than anyone is saying.”
His radar went up. “Like what?”
“I’m not sure, but he never refers to her as deceased. It’s odd.” She rested her head on his chest. “I also think he’s after an object called the Chintamani Stone.”
“And that would be?”
“A rare artifact said to grant wishes. The last known documentation detailing the whereabouts of the stone was around 1920 or so. A couple held it for safekeeping. When interest in the stone gained a fever pitch, they took a trip to the Himalayas and handed it off to Buddhist monks.”
“So why doesn’t old Alastair pop over and get it?” Coop asked.
“He would if he could. The stone disappeared from the monastery in February of 1968.”
“This wish-granting stone has been missing for over fifty years?”
“Yep.”
“Who’s to say it’s even a real magical object?”
Summer lifted a brow and smirked.
“Yeah, strike that question. I’m dealing with witches. I should’ve assumed there were magical artifacts.” He jerked. “Wait! Are they the type of antiquities your dad, uh, Preston searches out?”
She grinned. “You make a heck of a detective, Coop.”
“I’ll be damned,” he breathed. He paced the length of his office as a million thoughts crowded his brain. “What does he do with them once he’s found them?”
“They are safeguarded by the witches’ council, of which, he is lead chair.”
“But where are they stored?”
She compressed her lips and dropped her eyes. A definite tell that she knew but refused to say. Well, at least she isn’t lying.
Coop ran a hand through his hair. His mind was having a hard time wrapping around all he’d learned. Coping with the information that a whole other world of magic existed around him became harder each day. He liked his life as it had been. Sure, he’d remained ignorant of the magical family living in his midst, but he didn’t have to deal with a teleporting girlfriend, two lethal warlocks who always seemed to be sizing him up, shoveling elephant dung on a daily basis, and a chimp who could go off the rails at any second and bash someone’s brains in.
The fact that any of these women could wipe his memories at any second terrified the holy hell out of him.
And while the thought of Summer swollen with their child was a sweet daydream, the reality was that any child of theirs would possess powers enough to make him their puppet.
He suddenly knew what he needed to do.
“I need a break.” The words were torn from him.
She smiled and gestured to the food. “I know. You work too hard.”
“No, Summer.” He swallowed audibly and met her brilliant eyes.
As he watched, the irises lost their brightness and turned a murky shade of gray.
“From me, you mean.” A small sad smile graced her face. “It was bound to happen eventually. Only a matter of time really.”
Panic gripped him. Her tone sounded final which made him rethink his decision to end things, contrary bastard that he was. “It’s only a small break. A few days. A week at the most. I just need to get my head on straight.”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. Instead, she painstakingly folded the canvas bag on the desk as she kept her profile to him. “I understand.”
“Do you?” He didn’t even know if he did.
She gave a half-hearted smile and nodded. With a deep breath, she lifted her head. “I have a few appointments this afternoon, so I’d better head out.” With her thumb, she gestured to the food. “Eat something.”
Her proud martyr routine pissed him off. “You’re not my mother, Summer.”
* * *
Summer sucked in her breath. Of all the nerve! “Sorry if I’m trying to be adult about receiving my walking papers. Self-control is necessary so I don’t fry your pansy ass.”
She sneezed. Goddess!
Grown men scrambling up from chairs and screaming could be heard through the office door.
“Goddammit!” Coop swore. “This! This shit is what I’m talking about. I want one fucking normal day. Is that too much to ask?”
If he struck her, it would’ve been kinder.
The door flew open and Aimes, hair wild and uniform askew, stood panting and panicked. “C.C., we have a problem. Rats everywhere, man!”
Summer pasted a smile on her face and addressed the officer. “I’ll take care of it, Randy. They must’ve escaped from the traps in my van. I had the windows open.”
“Why would they come in here?”
She waved a hand and blew a bit of magical air in his direction. In a soft, hypnotic voice, she said, “They’re here because they are hungry and looking for food. In five minutes time, they will be gone and you will cease to worry about them.”
“Summer,” Coop warned.
Ignoring him, she asked, “Do you understand, Randy?”
“I understand,” Aimes replied.
“Excellent. You may go calm everyone else.”
Randy retreated a lot more relaxed than when he entered.
She stared at the empty doorway longer than necessary to avoid the censure and contempt she was sure to find in Coop’s eyes. Hell, she could feel the rage radiating off of him.
How easy it would be to just disappear for good. She’d been fighting the desire for most of her life since prom. Facing the townspeople now that she and Coop were over would be too much to bear.
The constant refrain would be “poor Summer Thorne”, and there was no way she could handle the ridicule. She didn’t have the strength. Odd, how world weary she felt. Much older than her twenty-eight years.
“Goodbye, Cooper Carlyle,” she whispered past the lump in her throat. “It was a fun run while it lasted.”
She closed her eyes and concentrated on the property she’d secretly purchased on the Tennessee-North Carolina border. Concentrated on the sound of the gusty afternoon breeze rustling the branches of fat Fraser firs. She could smell the scent of pine and fresh, uncontaminated air. And then she was there. Her and dozens of rodents of every shape and size.
When she opened her eyes, she took in the breathtaking sight of her new mountain home. “I think we’re going to like it here, gang.”
The chattering of mice filled the clearing. Huh, maybe she’d cussed a wee bit harder than she thought. The number of rodents staggered her.
“I guess Randy Aimes was right to be frightened. You are a pretty intimidating group.” She smiled as they twitched their noses.
To block out the pain of her breaking heart, she scouted out their new digs. Nothing like avoidance.
“What kind of barn should we build, gang? Obviously a large, heated one for Eddie. Maybe an indoor pool? He’d love that, wouldn’t he?”
The bevy of rodents chatted away and gave her suggestions. Mostly they consisted of a place to burrow. She’d have to make her own floor plan.
In her mind’s eye she cleared the timber from the land. When she had what she thought was a large enough area, she paced it off and mentally staked it out.
“I think this is a good start for today. Y’all find a place to nest for tonight, and I’ll do the same. I’m certain there’s a bed and breakfast with a spare room.”
When she teleported to the edge of town, her phone buzzed with all the missed messages she’d received while out of range on the mountain. Coop had left three voicemails and sent seven texts.
She deleted them all and headed for a small cafe she’d frequented on her last visit.
The dark-haired waitress greeted her like an old friend. Perhaps because she recognized what Summer was from the moment she’d set foot in town back in July.
Most witches had a glow to their aura. The brighter the glow, the more powerful the witch. Had she thought about it at the time, Summer would’ve realized Coop was magical by his glow alone. She’d assumed the brightness of his aura was because he was destined to be her mate. She snorted and fought back tears.
“Hi, hon. Welcome back.”
“Thanks, Holly. It’s nice to be back.” Summer scanned the menu then held it out. “Whatever’s on special works.”
Holly left to place the order and returned with a cup of tea and a small jar of honey. “My friend produced the honey on her farm.”
“Then I’m sure I’ll love it.” Summer glanced around. “Seems dead today.”
“It’ll pick up around four-thirty or five.”
Serious blue eyes the color of the deepest part of the Atlantic Ocean studied her. “Want some company?”
“As long as you aren’t going to ask me about my love life.”
The other woman grinned and sat. “I bet Pete that you had man troubles. Recognized the shell-shocked look.”
“Who’s Pete?”
“Cook.”
Summer nodded and glanced toward the serving window. A cagey old man with three days’ worth of stubble shot her a toothless smile. She returned the greeting with a sharp nod and a lift of her mug.
“Is there a chance he’s going to spit in my food because he lost the bet?” she asked in a low voice.
Holly’s light laugh rang out. “Possibly, but we’ve never had complaints. It could only make the food taste better.”
The women made small talk for a short while before Holly came right out and asked why Summer was in town this time.
“I purchased the land on Yellow Creek mountain. I’m going to put in an animal sanctuary.”
“You must have some serious money for that. Land in these parts belong to one man only. Hoyt Thorne. He doesn’t readily part with it. Not without getting a good sum.”
“Hoyt is a distant relative. And you’re right, he didn’t part with it without a nice-sized check.” Summer extended her hand. “Summer Thorne.”
“Holly Thorne.”
“Yikes, really? Holly Thorne? I should’ve known. You have the look of the Thorne. Am I to assume we’re cousins?”
“Well, technically my married name is Holly Thorne-Hill, but I’m tryin’ to unload that baggage. Paperwork takes time.”
“There’s a lot to be said for getting rid of unwanted baggage,” Summer said. The two women shared a commiserating look and toasted with their chipped white mugs.
“Amen, cuz.” The bell rang, and Holly rose to her feet. “Well, shit.”
When Holly sneezed, Summer almost laughed. She waited for the tell-tale sound of rodents, but no such sound happened. Instead, there came a pecking at the front glass window.
Summer spun in her seat. “Goddess!”
“Yeah, it happens every time I swear. Only one man gets me mad enough to do that.”
The elegantly dressed man in the black suit addressed her waitress. “She wasn’t referring to the birds, child. She was referring to me.”
“Hello, Alastair. Welcome to my new neck of the woods. I’d ask how you found me, but…” Summer shrugged and sipped her tea. It only took a minute or two to divine a location.
“Summer. I see you’ve met your sister.”
Her jaw dropped in sync with Holly’s. Before long, she was laughing hysterically. “I should’ve known. The sneezing gave it away.”
“I must say, you’re taking this well,” Alastair said as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat.
“What can I say? I like her. And with you, the surprises just keep coming. I’ve got to roll with life’s punches or never get up.” The last little bit referred to Coop, but he didn’t need to know that. “I am a little pissed that she got birds and I was cursed with mice. I suppose it’s too late to swap now. But really, what was with the Alfred Hitchcock scene at the window?”
“I believe the birds around here are mentally challenged,” Holly supplied.
“How so?” Summer asked, curious despite herself.
“Well, for one, they don’t know how to add ribbon to a dress.”
“Ah, well my mice aren’t any brighter. They don’t sing or sew either.”
The two women shared a laugh.
Even Alastair chuckled.
His amusement sobered Holly. “I suppose you want a cup of coffee?”
“Please.”
Silence reigned until Holly had retrieved a cup and the pot of brewed sludge. She plopped both in front of him. “Help yourself.”
He surprised Summer when he poured his own coffee and saluted Holly with his mug. “Thank you.” He acted as if a customer pouring his own beverage was usual.
“Did you seek me out, or were you visiting your other offspring?” Summer frowned and narrowed her eyes. “How many of us are there?”
He didn’t answer, but merely sipped his coffee.
“Who’s older?”
“You, by four minutes.”
“We’re twins?” the two women chorused.
Holly’s legs gave out, and she sank into the chair next to Summer.
Because she couldn’t comprehend the magnitude of the statement, couldn’t wrap her brain around a long-lost sister, Summer ignored the discovery to focus on the facts. “How is that possible?”
“About a month after you were born, Aurora came to see me. She claimed whenever Preston came within two feet of Holly, the babe would scream the house down. Apparently, he’d had enough.”
“Dad made Mom give up her child?” Summer asked, horrified by such a ghastly act.
“Actually, he didn’t. The decision was hers.” Alastair stared into the black liquid as he inched his mug in a circle.<
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Seconds ticked by, and Summer thought the explanations were at an end.
He shook off his memories and took another sip of his coffee. After he set the cup down with precise movements, he said, “I believe she thought giving Holly to me would ease the loss.”
“The loss?”
“The loss of Aurora. Of you.”
“This is blowing my mind. Every story I ever heard was how much my parents were in love.”
Alastair winced before he fiddled with the knot of his tie.
She wanted to yell at him to take the damned thing off if it bothered him so badly.
“You don’t believe a person can have more than one love in a lifetime?” he asked, distracting her from possible reasons he stayed buttoned up tight.
“Family rumor states a Thorne doesn’t. Aren’t you living proof?” Summer countered, not unkindly. “You’ve been mourning the woman for the past twenty years.”
“Not mourning,” he stated softly. “Besides, your mother wasn’t a Thorne. She was a Fennell.
“Not to rain on your pity party here, Alastair, but did any of y’all think about me or Summer?” Holly demanded. “Did y’all think about how two sisters would miss out on growing up together? How bitter we’d be when we finally found each other after nearly thirty years? Because I’m here to say, I’m feeling a whole lotta bitter right now.”
Alastair shoved aside his coffee. “What’s done is done. You harping on the why will change nothing,” he stated coldly.
Holly snorted and stood. For the span of a few heartbeats, she said nothing and continued to study Alastair. Finally, she asked what appeared foremost on her mind. “Why are you here? You only stop by when you want something.”
“I can’t come to check on my daughter?”
“Which one? Because you barely paid me any attention growing up, unless it was to criticize my ‘training’ or to send me on a wild goose chase after one of your precious artifacts,” she sneered. “Whatever. I guess I don’t really care.” She faced Summer. “It was nice meeting ya, Summer. But be careful of this one’s motives. He’ll use you and cast you aside.”
Alastair stood abruptly, sending his chair skittering back. “Do not presume to know my motives, Holly Thorne. What did I do so wrong? I saw to your well-being. I paid for your every want. Made sure you had the best education.” His cold features turned downright arctic. “What did you do with it? You marry a waste of good space and throw everything away to waitress at a dive in the middle of nowhere. If you’re unhappy with your lot in life, you have no one to blame but yourself. You’ve had ample opportunity to become a daughter I’m proud of.”