Rekindled Magic

by T. M. Cromer

  “Ouch.”

  “Indeed.” Alastair shook his perfectly styled, blond head. “She told me she didn’t want one red cent from me, then she got a job at that godforsaken diner in town.”

  “I tried to purchase the diner once.”

  Alastair’s brows rose in sharp, silent question.

  “I wanted to make sure she always had a job if she needed one.” Quentin chuckled softly and shook his head. “Imagine my surprise when your name was on the deed. If I had to guess, it was so you could pay her a healthy wage, regardless of the fact that she disobeyed you and married that prick.”

  “Perhaps.” Alastair gave a suave one-shouldered shrug. “I never thanked you properly for your part in saving her life.” He walked to him and held out his hand. “Thank you, son.”

  “And I never thanked you for sparing my life the night Holly and I were arrested down by the airstrip,” Quentin countered as he accepted Alastair’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”

  “You’re a good man. Holly can do—and has done—a lot worse.”

  All humor left Quentin. “She loved him. I don’t know why, but she did. I suppose that’s the reason for her shitty choices.”

  “She didn’t love him, boy. She loves you. Always has. Why would you think otherwise?”

  Disbelief warred with incredulousness that Alastair misread the situation. The guy never misread anything. “She told me on her wedding day.”

  “Ah. Yes, well, if I had to guess, Holly was trying to save face.”

  “Save face for what?”

  “Your affair with the gorgeous, deceitful Michelle.”

  Rage exploded in Quentin’s brain like an undetected aneurysm. “I never had a goddamned affair with her!”

  Alastair held up his hands. “I know, son. If you had, you wouldn’t be within twenty feet of my daughter.”

  Somewhat mollified, Quentin nodded, sat, and rested his head in his hands. “Can we move to a different subject now? I’m tired of rehashing the past. It changes nothing.”

  “Certainly.”

  * * *

  Alastair studied Quentin where he sat on the couch. The young man looked world-weary and torn. It wasn’t surprising. Holly had led him on a merry chase, and the poor fellow was exhausted from the runaround.

  “The scroll is in a vault in Greece.”

  “Tell me what I need to know, and I’ll go today.”

  “You have no intention of sticking around to say goodbye to my daughter, do you?”

  “No. I’ll get the scroll, and then I’m gone. I won’t be where I’m not wanted. Not anymore. But if I can neutralize Salinger’s threat, I will.”

  Alastair ambled around the living room, touching an item here or there. His curiosity was caught by the group of photos on the wall beside the front door. One held his attention more than the others. It was a small black-and-white image of himself holding Holly as a toddler. He was gazing down at her with amused affection as she pointed over his shoulder. GiGi had taken that shot. In it, she’d caught all the love he’d felt for his precious baby girl.

  “I’m surprised she has that on her wall,” Quentin said from his place on the couch.

  Alastair ran a finger across the cool surface of the glass. “Yes.”

  “As much as she claims to hate you, she has a photo of you on her wall. Telling, no?”

  “I suppose it is,” he agreed. He scanned the rest of the grouping, noting none of Quentin and Holly. To his mind, that was far more revealing.

  As if Quentin sensed Alastair’s thoughts, he said, “It’s also telling there are none of the ones Holly was always snapping of us together.”

  “Perhaps it hurts her more to see the two of you together.”

  “Right.” Quentin let out a harsh laugh. “What are the coordinates of the vault?”

  “It isn’t that simple.” He returned and settled on the arm of the chair across from the younger man. “The vault is located in the National Archaeological Museum in Athens.”

  “It’s a simple matter of cloaking myself before closing time, slipping into the vault, finding the scroll, and teleporting out.”

  “Except the museum belongs to the Witches’ Council. There are wards and spells to prevent that from happening.”

  “Of course there are,” Quentin groaned in disgust. “What’s your retrieval idea?”

  “I want you to seduce Selene Barringer. She’s the head of acquisitions for the Council in Europe.”

  “Similar to what your son, Nash, does here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine. Then give me an extra day to regain my strength.” Quentin’s dull-eyed stare focused on him. “Meet me in the diner tomorrow morning at ten with the information on this Selene chick. I assume you have a detailed file?”

  He nodded.

  “I’ll do whatever is necessary.”

  “If you seduce her, you’ll be saying goodbye to whatever chance you have with Holly.”

  “That should make you happy. You never approved of me anyway.”

  “You were wild in those days.”

  Quentin laughed long and loud. “No, sir. Your daughter was wild in those days. I was just along for the ride because how could I not? She was magnificent.” He sobered and stared at the ground. “Still is.”

  “If you love her, why leave?”

  “The whipped dog routine is getting old, Mr. Thorne. It’s past time I got a life, don’t you think?”

  “Where will you go?”

  “Why do you care?” Quentin asked harshly. “Seriously? Why?”

  “I find I like you, son.”

  “That’s sure to set Holly against me if she ever finds out.” Quentin stood and met his gaze. “Maybe you should let her know that. It will help in the long run. Final nail in the coffin and all that.” He straightened the pillows on the couch and folded the blanket over the back, effectively removing any trace he’d been there. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.”

  Chapter 5

  “What’s wrong with you? Are you okay?”

  Holly lifted her head from the blank computer screen she’d been staring at for the last three minutes. Her sister sat perched on the edge of the reception desk, one foot swinging back and forth to a rhythm only she heard. It was disturbing that she never sensed Summer before she spoke. The lack of attention to her surroundings proved how deeply engrossed Holly had been in her own problems.

  “I’m fine.”

  Summer reached forward and flicked Holly’s earlobe.

  “Ouch!”

  “It’s what you get for being a dirty liar. Now, tell me what’s really wrong? Is Quentin okay from earlier today?”

  “Quentin’s fine,” Holly ground out.

  “That sounded convincing. What did he do to piss you off this time?”

  A flutter of irritation swept through her. Why did everyone always assume she was pissed at Quentin? Granted, she didn’t fawn all over him like other women did with their guys, but she didn’t hate him. Not anymore. Maybe not ever. “Nothing. I’m worried about him, if you must know.”

  Summer straightened and stared down at her, all teasing gone. “What’s going on?”

  “I think he intends to find the scroll and then take off.”

  “Surely he wouldn’t take off with the last item we need to revive our Mother.”

  “No. I mean he intends to retrieve it for us, then leave for good. I think.” She rested her forehead in her palms. It was too damned much to pretend she wasn’t bothered by his behavior. “I don’t know. I can’t seem to trust my own instincts.” Holly raised her head and met Summer’s concerned gaze. “He was the one who saved me from Beau and Michelle. Can you believe it? Him, not our father like I’d believed all this time.”

  “Are you serious? How the hell did that happen?” Summer’s swearing was a testament to her shock. Even as she sneezed, she clenched her fist to ward off the mice that tended to show up when she was upset.

  Holly gave her a rundown of the facts.


  The twins stared at one another, each reeling from the implications of the rescue. Summer was the first to speak. “You’ve always believed he cheated with Michelle?” At Holly’s nod, she continued. “What if he didn’t? What if she really did lie, and he’s hung around all this time because he loves you?”

  Holly had come to the realization that her ex-bestie had indeed lied, and it made her sick at heart. Michelle had been incredibly convincing. Her ex-best friend had been such an accomplished actress that she had no idea Michelle was putting out for Holly’s husband. She recalled all the times Quentin had defended himself, had tried to make her see reason. She’d always thought he was sorry he’d gotten caught to begin with. A sob caught in Holly’s throat. She’d wronged Quentin on every level.

  “Oh, Summer. I made such a huge mistake.”

  Summer grabbed her hand and dragged her to the private office in the back of the clinic. The room was occupied by Audrey, one of the veterinary assistants. “Out. And stop calling your boyfriend on company time. Have Patti man the front desk, and when I come out, I expect those kennels to be spotless.”

  Holly kept it together until Audrey left. But the second the door closed, the tap turned on and tears poured from her eyes like a geyser. Summer held her and rocked her like a small child.

  “Shhh, it’s all right, sister. Quentin understands. He wouldn’t have hung around this long if he didn’t.”

  “You didn’t see. There was something different about him today. Something resigned.”

  “We’re Thornes. Have you seen Autumn scry? He can run, but he can’t hide.”

  Holly produced something similar to a laugh-snort-cough. It wasn’t pretty, but Summer was quick with a tissue and an order to mop up everything above the shoulders.

  “I have an idea.” Summer opened her bottom drawer and pulled out a scrying mirror and a white candle.

  “You happen to have a mirror in your desk? Honestly?”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “You’re as bad as Autumn.”

  “Oh, and it wasn’t you who made popcorn or encouraged me to spy on Coop when we’d broken up?”

  “Shut up and cast the spell.”

  Holly passed a hand over the mirror as Summer lit the candle.

  “Ostendo!”

  Within a minute, the sisters were eavesdropping on Alastair and Quentin’s discussion about the vault in Greece.

  “You have no intention of sticking around to say goodbye to my daughter, do you?”

  “No. I’ll get the scroll, and then I’m gone. I won’t be where I’m not wanted. Not anymore. But if I can neutralize Salinger’s threat, I will.”

  Holly reeled back in shock. Her hurt and betrayal were seasoned with a heavy dash of self-loathing. She’d done this. She’d finally driven him away for good.

  As they continued to listen, she was certain the crack in her heart widened. Quentin had agreed to seduce another woman because he’d given up on her. Tears poured unchecked down her cheeks, and even Summer’s warm, supportive hug couldn’t break through the grief Holly was experiencing.

  “He doesn’t want me anymore,” she whispered after Quentin had walked out the front door of her living room.

  “No, sister. You are completely missing what he’s saying.” Summer smoothed the hair back from Holly’s face. “He has given up hope that you might ever return his feelings. You need to nip this in the bud.”

  “How? What do I do?”

  The air around them shifted, and her father walked through the rift in space. “You go after him, child. Trust me, Selene will eat him up and spit him out.”

  Holly snapped.

  One second she was in control; the next, she wanted to maim him for what he’d set in motion. She flew at him, fists raised to do damage. “I hate you! You ruin everything! Always. You have to butt in where you’re not wanted.” The impact of her balled hands on his chest might have hurt a lesser man, but her father never uttered a word or even grunted his discomfort. “How could you?”

  As suddenly as her rage surfaced, it was gone, as was her energy. She fell into a heap at his feet. “I’m so stupid.”

  Summer took a step forward, but their father waved her off and squatted beside Holly. “No. You aren’t stupid. You are beautiful and open, with a heart bigger than the whole of this continent. You were betrayed by consummate liars. However, Quentin wasn’t one of them.”

  She lifted her head and stared at him. What was he saying? He knew all along?

  “I love you, Holly Anne. You are one of the three brightest stars in my universe.” His voice was as raw as she’d ever heard it. Honest, too. The sincerity was there for all who cared to see. “What I did today, I did for you. Do you honestly believe I didn’t know you’d spy on our conversation? Did you hear how adamant he was when he said he’d never cheated? And since the stabbing, have you never wondered why he scarcely left your side?” He released a heart-heavy sigh and grabbed her hand. “You have always been so damned stubborn.”

  Belatedly, she registered he was able to swear without sneezing. Since meeting her long-lost twin this past year, she’d come to realize if she or Summer swore while touching each other, they could stem off the sneeze that brought the birds and rodents.

  A tight ball of emotion in Holly’s throat prevented an answer.

  “He killed for you, and he’d die for you in a second. Can you say the same? What would you sacrifice for him?”

  “Everything.” Her whisper was barely audible, but he heard her all the same because he nodded and handed her a slip of paper.

  “He’ll check in here tomorrow at six p.m. I’ve booked the adjoining suite for you.” He looked like he wanted to say more but refrained. With an elegance that was standard for Alastair Thorne, he rose. “Goodbye, dear girl. I hope you find your heart’s desire in Greece.”

  With a simple snap of his finger, he teleported away.

  “Daddy!” she called. But he was gone. Distraught, she looked at her stunned sister and asked, “What the hell did he mean by that?” She promptly sneezed but was too scattered to remember to stave off the birds that started pecking at Summer’s office window.

  Summer looked as stunned as Holly felt. “If I had to guess, he exited your life.”

  Trepidation and anguish paralyzed her. Her father was as steady as the day was long, wasn’t he? “He wouldn’t.”

  “Yet, I think he did.” Summer sat next to her and pulled her close. “When have you ever heard him say goodbye?”

  “What have I done?”

  Summer squeezed her once and helped her to her feet. “It doesn’t matter. We’re going to fix this. You go after Quentin, and when I have time, I’ll see about our father. Don’t waste the gift he gave you.”

  “Right.” But still Holly was reluctant to go. She was unable to wrap her mind around all that had taken place in the last half hour. She gave voice to her most horrific fear. “What if Quentin doesn’t want me anymore?”

  “Didn’t the Great Alastair Thorne just get done saying you weren’t stupid? Don’t prove him wrong now. Get your ass in gear and get ready to hightail it to Greece. And be sure to conjure a sexy outfit when you get there. Lingerie with pale pink bows on black lace drives men wild.”

  For the first time, Holly laughed. “You know this how?”

  “Never you mind. Get going. I’ve got the office and sanctuary covered.”

  “I love you, sister.”

  Summer grinned. “Of course you do. I’m amazing. Now go!”

  Holly popped back home on the off chance Quentin might return because, in all the years he’d been her shadow, she had never learned where he lived. She had no idea where to look for him now.

  After a few hours, it became apparent he had no intention of returning. She had to face the fact that he was through. Yet she was damned if she’d let him walk away now. Not after discovering he’d saved her, never cheated, and still loved her. The man had to be a fool if he thought she wasn’t going to lif
t a finger to stop him.

  In her bedroom, she opened her bottom drawer and shoved aside the few old articles of clothing hiding her most treasured possession: her photo album. Holly hesitated to remove it from its nest. If she opened it, she’d also open the locked gates of her heart and allow all the old emotions to flood back in. The purple twelve-by-twelve album contained images of all those she held dear. She hadn’t opened it in years other than to add a few recent photos of her new sisters to the end of the book. Most certainly never to look at the record of the early part of her life.

  Now, for the first time in nine years, she started from the beginning. Family pictures, like the ones of her mother holding her while her father lovingly smiled down upon them, glared back at her as if to say “Where have you been? How could you reject us?” But those photographs, along with the ones she knew she’d see of her and Quentin on the coming pages, were like a dagger to her heart. It had been better to shove those old memories away and never dust them off. Otherwise, she’d dwell in the past, and Holly had needed to continue to move forward for her own sanity.

  Her father had once encouraged her to seek therapy. But as she sat across from the counselor, she had found it impossible to face the past. At the time, the wounds had been too fresh.

  Now, as she sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her old, distressed Chesterfield dresser and thumbed through the book, her eyes filled with tears at all the love and joy she’d ignored. Her finger traced her mother’s beloved face before touching her father’s. Despite what everyone believed, she’d always loved her dad. However, she refused to be manipulated, and that’s one thing at which Alastair Thorne excelled.

  With closed eyes and a deep breath, she turned the page. When she opened them again, she knew what she’d see: Quentin’s laughing face shining up at her. The bright, love-filled gaze would be only for the fun-loving young woman wielding the camera. For that carefree, naive girl who stood over him that day in the park and who pretended she was a journalist, snapping pictures of the guy with the movie-star good looks.