Rekindled Magic

by T. M. Cromer

  “I must return home to Rorie.” No matter how casual he tried to be, Alastair failed to hide his pain. “Time is short.”

  “If there was any other way…” Quentin trailed off. Sympathetic drivel wasn’t warranted.

  “You do what you must, Quentin. We all know where our priorities lie. My daughter mentioned that she’d like to speak with you.” Alastair turned his attention to his son. “Nash, I need a moment with you in private.”

  As Quentin moved to pass Alastair, the older man placed a hand on his arm.

  “Thank you, Quentin. You’ve always had her best interests at heart. No one could love her more.”

  “That’s the truth, sir. But you don’t need to thank me. She’s easy to love.”

  Nash snorted behind him. “Keep telling yourself that, you poor sap.”

  In a low tone that only Quentin could hear, Alastair said, “His time is almost at hand. You’ll be able to needle him plenty.”

  “Oh, I look forward to it.”

  “As do I.”

  Quentin closed the connecting door between the suites to offer the privacy the others needed. The shimmering material of the new dress caught his eye, and he approached the bed.

  Holly’s gown for the gala.

  She would be a vision once she slipped it on. She always was when she was formally dressed. Of course, he’d only ever seen her dressed up twice: prom and her wedding day.

  “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

  “Did you conjure it?”

  “Alastair did.”

  “The man has excellent taste. I can’t wait to see it on you.”

  “We should get going if we want to hit the Acropolis Museum before the gala tonight.”

  Misgivings swarmed him, and he closed the distance between them and tipped up her chin. “I think you should go home with your father, Hol. I get the feeling your mother is fading fast. You should be there to say your goodbyes.”

  Tears swam in her eyes. He followed the path of one lone tear as it escaped down her cheek. Before the droplet could drip from her chin, he wiped the moisture away with the pad of his thumb.

  “I don’t want you to have regrets, love.”

  “I won’t because we aren’t going to let her die.”

  His gut twisted in response to her words. “I’m not about to let you do anything foolish. You have to know that.”

  “You can’t stop me, Quentin.” She stood in front of him with her arms folded across her chest. A determined glint shone in her eyes. He knew that look. It was the look that said she intended to do what she wanted and damn the consequences.

  The sudden desire to wring her neck was upon him. With a concerted effort, he dropped his arms to his sides and backed away. “Then go,” he snapped. “Go make whatever impulsive, bullshit move you intend to, so the rest of us can get busy cleaning up your mess.”

  Her startled gasp echoed around the room. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”

  “Don’t I? If not me, who, Holly? Who?” All the pent-up frustration he’d felt at being rejected time and again boiled up. All the fear for her—past, present, and future—ganged up and made him mental. For the first time in ages, he lost control of his magic. The air around them began to swirl and rock the knick-knacks on the wood surfaces of the furniture around them. The artwork on the wall rattled as the curtains flapped. “You are the most stubborn, spoiled-rotten brat I’ve ever encountered in my life. Without ever having the facts, you charge off without a care for your or anyone else’s safety because you happen to feel like it.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “It absolutely is. It’s always your way, no matter what. Well, I for one am tired of it.”

  She stormed to where he stood and used the heels of her hands to ineffectively shove his chest. “Then leave!”

  “This is my damned room!”

  “Then I’ll leave,” she snapped, pivoting on her foot to head for the main hallway.

  “That’s right, run away. That’s what you do best; avoidance.”

  His long legs ate up the distance in half the time it took her. Using the flat of his hand, he slammed it against the wooden plane of the door. It didn’t matter that five seconds ago he wanted her to get out of Greece for her own safety. The contrary side of his nature had decided to rear its ugly head and weigh in.

  “You avoided having an honest adult conversation with me about Michelle for nine years. You refused to seek out your father and apologize for your childish insistence that Beau Hill was a prince among men. Goddess forbid, you admit Alastair was right about that piece of shit!”

  “Stop it!”

  “How many times have you been to see your mother in the last twenty years, Holly? Never while we were dating. I know that much.”

  “Stop!”

  “You know what I think? I think you only came to Athens to stop me from moving on. You never wanted me, but you certainly don’t want anyone else to have me either.”

  Her hands balled into tight fists, and her voice shook when she denied his claim. “That’s not true, Quentin. I’ve always wanted you. Always!” Her tears flowed faster. “I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

  “Tell it to someone who believes it, sweetheart. I don’t anymore, and I’m tired of being used.”

  “Is that what you think this morning was all about? Me using you?”

  “Didn’t it scratch your itch?” He didn’t give two damns that he was being crude as he grabbed himself. “Wasn’t this all you were after? What you tell me all women are after?”

  As Quentin watched, Holly’s fire petered out. “Yes. That was all I was after.”

  Before he could form a retort, she teleported.

  “Shit!”

  He ran for the connecting door and yanked it open. The Thorne men stood side-by-side, arms folded and grim expressions on their faces.

  “You heard,” Quentin stated flatly.

  Nash snorted his disbelief at the asinine question. “How could we not?”

  “Where would she go?”

  “The place you practically taunted her to go,” Alastair replied. “But then, I believe you already know that.”

  “Okay, this is embarrassing, but I don’t know where you live.”

  A slip of paper appeared in Alastair’s hand. “Here.”

  A glance down showed the longitude and latitude of a specific location. “Is this the center of a volcano?”

  Alastair’s lips compressed, whether to hold back a bark of laughter or a healthy curse word, Quentin wasn’t sure.

  “For the record, I have no idea where all that rage came from a minute ago.” Shitty as far as apologies go, but it was all he could manage.

  “I do. Quite frankly, I’m surprised you lasted as long as you have. That location is my home. I’ll call ahead and have Alfred admit you to the house.”

  “I thought you were heading that way?” Nash asked his father.

  “Do I strike you as an idiot, son? I’m not stepping foot in that house until these two have had it out.”

  “Good plan,” Nash agreed. He held out his palm, and an amber light spiraled up into the shape of a bottle. “Let’s have a drink while we wait.”

  “I see the label says Glenfiddich. Good choice, but if that isn’t at least a forty-year-old single malt scotch, don’t bother pouring me any.”

  “Pfft! As if I didn’t already know that. Conjure the glasses, Sperm Donor.”

  Alastair surprised Quentin when he produced three crystal tumblers and set them on the coffee table. “You have time, boy. Have a drink or two. You’ll need the fortification for when you chase down my daughter.”

  “I’m not sure if I should. Chase her down, that is.”

  When the Thornes remained silent, as if to let him continue, Quentin explained. “If she’s visiting Aurora, she’s out of the way and less likely to get into trouble.”

  “A solid plan.” Alastair raised his glass. “I’ll toast to keeping Holly out of trouble any day of the we
ek.”

  Nash shook his head and gazed down into the tumbler of amber liquid he held. “I don’t think either of you are allowing her the right to choose her path.”

  “I don’t understand. Weren’t you the one rushing here yesterday to keep her out of harm’s way?” Quentin could freely admit to being confused. Nash’s about-face boggled the mind.

  “She did what neither of us has up to this point. She obtained invitations to the gala and ingratiated herself with Selene.” He gave a nonchalant shrug and sipped his drink. “While I don’t approve of her spontaneity, she came through in the end. She’s done it with a lot less hysterics than you, I might add.”

  Nash wasn’t wrong. Quentin had been overly emotional these last few days. His temper was balanced on a razor’s edge and flared with the slightest provocation. Not normal for him in the least. He could only blame it on his current stress levels. The time had come for him to preempt a major catastrophe by obtaining and utilizing that damned scroll. The position he found himself in was impossible. If he went back to the moment of the stabbing, he would reset the cycle again. If he didn’t… well, he couldn’t wrap his brain around that consequence.

  The pinging of Nash’s phone paused their conversation. Based on the sour expression Holly’s brother made, the news wasn’t ideal.

  “Victor Salinger is in Athens.”

  Father and son shared a speaking glance.

  “Bringing Holly back is out of the question,” Quentin informed them.

  “I still think she would be useful,” Nash argued.

  Alastair downed his drink in one smooth motion. “This is a blasted mess.”

  Holly perched on the edge of her mother’s sickbed and picked up her mother’s emaciated hand.

  “Hey, Mom.” She swallowed hard. “It’s me. Holly.”

  Because looking at Aurora’s gaunt face caused the acid to churn in Holly’s gut, she studied the veins on the back of her mother’s hand. With one fingertip she traced a blue line.

  “I know I haven’t been around to visit much, but I’m here now. Although I’m not sure if I’ll be coming again after today.” She tried to rub warmth back into the cold hand sandwiched between hers. “It’s my hope that Quentin will use the scroll to revive you this time around. If he does that, I…”

  What could she say? That she’d be trading her life for her mother’s? No parent wanted to hear that.

  “You’d like him, Mom. Quentin is amazing. I mean, not today, because I’m a little pissed at him if I’m being truthful, but most days he is.”

  With the back of her wrist, she swiped at the salty moisture filling her eyes.

  “He’s said some harsh truths lately. Things that I didn’t want to hear, but that I needed to, ya know? I’ve been such a fool for too long.”

  Holly pressed the heels of her hands to her eye sockets.

  “I wasted all those years the two of us could’ve had together. Would’ve had, if it weren’t for Beau and Michelle.”

  With a clearing of her throat, she said, “But you don’t know them either. Maybe one day, when you and I meet up in the Otherworld, I’ll tell you all about it. Right now, it’s too exhausting, and I don’t want to spend any more time thinking about those two evil twatwaffles.”

  Lifting her eyes from the hand she’d been stroking, Holly studied her mother’s fragile features.

  “I really need you to come back for Dad’s sake, Mom. He’s lonely without you. He won’t say it, but I know. You probably do, too. He’s here all the time when he isn’t managing everyone’s lives.”

  A light laugh escaped her.

  “It’s funny to think that he’s been matchmaking for me and my sisters. Sisters I didn’t know I had, by-the-by. That’s another thing we need to discuss. I’m a little irritated that you never told me. I had to find out this past summer when my long-lost twin walked through the door of the restaurant downtown.”

  She smiled to take the sting from her words, as if her mother could see what was going on from wherever her spirit resided.

  “I adore her. Summer. She’s the better of the two of us. There isn’t a person she doesn’t care for, or an animal for that matter. You should see her familiar, Mom. He’s a little thug squirrel who never shuts up.”

  Reaching forward, she smoothed a lock of her mother’s lank, black hair.

  “Winnie looks like you, but you probably already know that. She’s gorgeous. Funny, too. Although she has nothing on Autumn when it comes to sarcasm. That chick is hilarious.”

  She bent and kissed her mother’s petal-soft cheek.

  “Thanks for giving me such an incredible family, Mom. Oh, and you’d be proud of Spring. She buried that asshat, Zhu Lin, with a nice little earthquake she conjured.”

  Holly cocked her head to the side.

  “I didn’t sneeze! I guess if I’m touching immediate family, I’m immune. That means there’s life in you yet, Mom. Please, keep hanging in there until Dad can find a way to revive you. Please?”

  With great care, she rearranged the already straight sheet. It was silly, but she needed to feel as if she’d done some small thing to make her mother comfortable.

  “I have to go now. I’m attending a gala in Athens tonight, and I need to get back to smooth things over with Quentin. I have to make him understand how much I love him.”

  She sniffed in her self-misery.

  “I need to make him believe that I see him as more than a pretty package.” She smiled wryly. “It’s not to say he isn’t. He absolutely is. Gorgeous as I’ve never seen before or probably ever will again. I don’t know what he sees in me, Mom. I truly don’t. He could have anyone he wants.”

  “But he wants you.”

  Holly spun around so fast she nearly wrenched her back. Lounging in the doorway with the casual grace he pulled off all too well, was Quentin. He uncrossed his arms and stood straighter. Love glowed from his dark, bedroom eyes. Love intended only for her.

  “He only ever wanted you, Hol.”

  Whatever uncertainty had held her frozen in place disappeared. She was off the bed and rushing into his embrace in less time than it took to blink.

  “Oh, Quentin! I’m sorry. I seem to be saying it every hour on the hour lately, but I truly am.”

  “Me, too, love. More than you know. I don’t know why the hell I exploded like that.”

  “You were long overdue. At every turn, I was letting you down. But it doesn’t matter anymore. What are you doing here?”

  He grinned, and she felt it down to her toes. “I had to follow my prickly pear, didn’t I?”

  She laughed and hugged him tighter. “I’m glad you are as stubborn as you are. Others might find that a fault, ya know. Personally, I think it’s your best trait.”

  “Mmhmm. We’ll see what you think in another fifty years after you’ve been subjected to that stubbornness on a daily basis.”

  “Want to meet my mom?” she asked hesitantly.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter 17

  “It’s time to go, Hol.”

  “I can’t believe you aren’t trying to keep me from going to the gala.”

  “You can thank your brother. He said we—we being me and your dad—need to let you walk your own path.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t for one minute believe I don’t hate it, because I absolutely do. But he’s right. You’re an intelligent adult.”

  “I’ll let Dad’s overseer know we are leaving and ask him to keep an eye on my mom until my father returns.”

  “Since this house is intimidating as hell, I’ll wait for you here. I wouldn’t want to break anything and have your dad on my ass.”

  Holly stretched up to kiss him then headed for the door.

  After she left, Quentin turned to stare down at the woman on the bed.

  “I’m sorry, Aurora. I wanted to be able to help you, but your daughter is my first priority.” He clasped her hand in his. “But I promise you, as long as
there is a breath still left in my body, I will always take care of her.”

  He gently placed her hand down by her side, turned toward the door, and stopped short. Surprise initially stole his voice when he saw the woman standing before him. Or through the woman standing before him.

  “Aurora,” he croaked as the hair on his neck rose to attention. In her ghostly form, she was beautiful in that eerie, holy-crap-there’s-a-ghost-in-front-of-me sort of way.

  She glided toward the bed and stared down at her failing body. “Tell Alastair it’s time to let me go.”

  When he didn’t answer, she faced him. He was stunned witless by how warm and encompassing her sudden smile was. “You’ll do that for me, won’t you, Quentin Buchanan?”

  “I’ll tell him, ma’am. But I can guarantee he won’t listen. The man is obsessed.”

  “Tell him what happened to me wasn’t his fault, but this continued quest he’s on will be for naught.” She stepped forward and raised her hand as if she wanted to touch him. With a slight shake of her head, she dropped her arm. “Thank you for loving my daughter. Let her know I heard her, and I’m proud of the woman she’s become.”

  “She’ll be back any second. Can you wait for her?”

  “Even if she were here now, she wouldn’t be able to see me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You are unique in your ability. You’re what is called a Traveler, Quentin. As a Traveler, you have the ability to journey through time and space as long as you possess the proper tools. Because Travelers can navigate through different dimensions, it makes the veil thin enough for you to see those of us on the other side.”

  His brows slammed together as he stared in open-mouthed wonder. How had he never heard the term Traveler or known what one could do? For that matter, how had he never discovered he had the ability to see ghosts and time travel?

  “I see that I’ve confused you.” She laughed, and the sound was musical in nature. Holly shared that same laugh when she was happy. It never failed to brighten his day.

  “You have definitely confused me.” He shot her a self-depreciating smile. “I can’t believe this is even real.”