by T. M. Cromer
“Beau Hill.”
“And the woman who helps him?”
“Michelle Wright.”
“To be clear, if these two people never learn Holly is a witch, never conspire against the two of you, then you and Holly will be happy together.”
He nodded. “In theory. That would be my fondest wish.”
“She loves you? My daughter?”
“She does.” A warm smile overtook his face.
“Did you ever betray my daughter in the alternate timeline, boy?”
“No, sir. Never once.” Quentin answered honestly. “I’d rather cut out my heart than hurt Holly.”
Alastair studied him for a long moment before he nodded once and held out his hand. “I’ll make sure your wish is honored, son.”
Tears burned Quentin’s eyes, and he swallowed hard. “Thank you, Mr. Thorne.”
The shadows around them deepened and receded.
A quick check of his surroundings showed the landscape fading.
“I’m out of time. Please remember what I said, and know Holly loves you, sir. She’s acting out now, but it’s only because she’s hurting. She misses her mother and is angry you kept her sisters from her.”
“She knows about Rorie’s other daughters?”
“And Summer. I can’t say any more without drastically altering the timeline. Bring Holly to Athens on—”
The shadows deepened further, and Alastair faded altogether. Quentin’s words were lost to the emptiness. He was left to wonder if Holly’s father had heard his last request.
If Quentin had to detail the next moments, he’d describe the “warp speed” screen of Star Trek’s U.S.S. Enterprise. Lights came at him at such a rate as to be indistinguishable from one another. He was forced to close his eyes against the shifting landscape or risk a seizure.
When the world around him stopped spinning, he was able to get his bearings. The one thing he hadn’t expected upon returning was the woman strolling about and touching the ancient magical objects with a reverent stroke of her hand. Although, if he were asked, he would have said he didn’t know what to expect. Possibly the entire Council standing by with armed guards?
“Exalted One!” Quentin knelt on one knee to give Athena her due.
“Rise, child.”
When she held out her hand, he placed the rolled parchment within her grasp. Without bothering to look at what she held, she set it alight with a simple touch of her finger.
An emotion akin to panic squeezed Quentin’s lungs, and he surged forward. “No! I need that!”
“And you shall have it with you always. Open your shirt.”
Cautiously, he unknotted his tie and stuffed it in his pocket. Next, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt to expose his chest.
Her curious aqua eyes ran the length of his torso. “You are a fine specimen, Quentin. A true child of the Gods.”
“What does that mean?”
She smiled as she moved toward him. “You are a descendent of my father, Zeus. Did you not know?”
“I had no idea. My family’s lineage was lost over time.”
Athena frowned and glanced to her left. A leather-bound book of spells rested on a wooden stand. “Lost, you say?”
“That’s the story.”
“It must be why you never understood the true extent of your abilities.”
“I can do more than blast air, teleport, and time travel?” he asked with a laugh.
“Yes, much more. We will get into that later. First, let us finish this.” Without warning, she pressed the ball of ash to the place over his heart.
The searing agony made him gasp and want to retch. The smell of burning flesh only added to his nausea. “What the fuck?”
Her brows climbed up toward her hairline, but she didn’t scold him for his language. Instead, she waved her hand over the branded skin. The redness disappeared and, with it, any residual pain. He studied the mark on his left pec.
“An owl?”
“You need to make it a priority to study your Greek ancestors, child.” The chiding quality was heavy in her tone. “The owl is a symbol of wisdom and courage. My symbol. It will allow you to take flight whenever you need to, from now to the end of your life cycle. This is my gift to you.” She buttoned his shirt and straightened his jacket. “You need only think about where you wish to go, and you will be able to achieve it.”
“Thank you, Exalted One. You are too generous.”
“You are deserving. If you were not, you would receive no help from the Gods.”
“Gods plural?”
“Who do you think originally sent me?”
“I’m going out on a limb here and saying Zeus?”
She laughed. “I have two more gifts for you. But we must hurry now. Time will correct itself in mere seconds.”
“I thought it had when I returned?”
She literally rolled her eyes, causing Quentin to laugh. Who knew goddesses were so human in nature?
“I can tell I have a lot to learn.”
“Yes, child, you do. This should help you.” She stepped over to the book she had glanced at earlier. “Your family’s grimoire.” She thumbed through the pages until she came to a particular spot. She held out both hands and conjured two additional objects. One, a simple bookmark which she slipped between the pages before closing the book again. The other was a small crystal globe, about three inches in diameter.
“I’ve marked the spell you will need for future travel.” She beckoned him to join her. “You will take the book and this object—the Heart of Artemis—with you when you leave here. I’ve charmed them both, and none will see you leave.”
“What’s the deal with the Heart of Artemis? Is it a type of quest I need to accomplish for you?”
She smiled and patted his cheek. “You are delightful.” She handed him the object, and as it touched his hand, it flared to life with a pulsing glow. “Careful. This was never meant for your use.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It is a bride’s gift for your young woman.”
“The only woman I’ll ever marry is Holly Thorne, and she was lost to me today.”
Athena cast him a mysterious look. “Was she?”
His confusion grew. Had he not changed the timeline? Why were his memories of Holly so crisp? Shouldn’t they have faded as history changed? He asked as much of Athena. Her answer surprised him.
“Alastair Thorne didn’t alter your meeting with Holly Thorne as you requested.”
Quentin closed his eyes and swayed. This time he was sure he was going to heave up his guts. Without him to stop Beau that night, Holly would have been killed.
“He didn’t alter your meeting, but he did remove the threat.”
His eyes snapped open, and he stared in shocked wonder.
“It’s time for you to remember the new timeline, Quentin Buchanan.” In a stunningly swift move, she tapped his temple.
Memories, new and old, merged in his head. Mostly, they were images of him and Holly as they were and as they continued on in their relationship without Beau’s or Michelle’s interference. The clearest picture of all was that of Holly, belly rounded with his child. Their love was deeply entrenched.
“Holly’s pregnant?” he asked in disbelief.
“She is. She’s waiting for you in the gardens outside. You must hurry.”
“I want so badly to hug you right now,” he told her.
Athena nodded toward the door. “You still have trials ahead, but I have no doubt you will prevail. Go.”
Quentin scooped up the book and the Heart of Artemis, and before he could second guess his boldness, he kissed her cheek. Her beatific smile stole his breath away.
“Rascal.”
“Thank you for everything.”
“Come back to my city and visit, dear boy.”
“You know it.”
The mammoth vault door swung wide as he approached. To his astonishment, no one was on the other side.
“T
he Gods still wield power, and the Witches’ Council listens.” Athena spoke from behind him.
“They wouldn’t dare not,” he agreed with a grin.
They shared an understanding glance. He imagined it would be a long while before—or if—he ever saw her again. Because he couldn’t not say it, he spoke the words in his heart. “You’ve given me my life back. It would have been a cold and dreary existence without Holly. I owe you everything.”
She cleared her throat and shooed him out of the vault. “Begone. I have other mortals’ messes to clean up.”
Quentin tucked the globe into the interior pocket of his tuxedo jacket, gripped the grimoire tightly, and dashed for the garden by the cafe. Although he received curious looks from the partygoers, no one stopped him or questioned his haste. As he rounded the side of the building, his heart dropped to his big toe.
Victor Salinger and his goons surrounded Holly, Nash, and Alastair. Selene was going toe-to-toe with him. With little to no expression on his face, Victor withdrew a silencer and shot her point blank.
Holly dropped her brother’s hand and rushed to the fallen Selene.
Even from this distance, Quentin heard her rage.
“You motherfucker! She was your sister! What kind of cold-ass bastard shoots his own sister?”
Instinctively, he started to close his fist, but then an idea took hold. If Holly was allowed free rein of her temper, would birds swoop down and pluck out Victor’s cold, beady eyes? When no birds appeared, Quentin realized the problem, Holly was touching another Thorne—the one in her womb.
Victor turned the gun on her. “She betrayed me to help you. She knew the consequences of her actions.”
Across the distance, Alastair met Quentin’s panicked gaze but then shifted his attention to a point beyond his left shoulder. Before Quentin could turn, Athena spoke. “I had hoped you would arrive before the drama. Come. Let us clear up this little mess, shall we?”
“You do know you’d make the perfect mate for Alastair Thorne, don’t you? Both of you cool as cucumbers and droll as fuck,” Quentin muttered, his heart pounding out of his chest.
Her laughter drew the attention of the group.
Snapping to attention, Victor’s security detail trained their weapons on Quentin and Athena. Her laughter turned deeper, more throaty and wicked. “Foolish mortals,” she admonished as she glided forward. “You come to my city, create wars with one another, and fail to pay homage to the Gods and Goddesses who rule here.”
Alastair and Nash each hastily took a knee next to Holly. The three Thornes bowed their heads in respect. Victor and his crew didn’t realize their mistake until it was too late.
Athena lifted her arms skyward, summoning a maelstrom of weather. Lightning flashed, bringing an immediate pop of thunder. Lashing rain came from every direction.
Quentin ran to Holly. He knelt in front of her with his back to Victor. He tucked her into his chest to protect her from the threat of bullets and the raging storm.
Quentin doubted Athena would let Victor get a shot off, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Whatever it took, he would protect Holly and his unborn child.
“I thought you’d never get here,” she whispered. “What took so long?”
He flashed her a roguish grin. “I was making time with Athena in the vault.”
Holly’s eyes darted toward the goddess. “Yeah, well, I’ll forgive you this one time. Thanks for bringing a goddess as backup.”
“Put your guns down, you fools!” Victor shouted over the storm at his minions even as he knelt and bowed his head. “Goddess, please, forgive me.”
“You dare too much, Victor Salinger. Your ancestors should have taught you manners and to pay homage to the old ones. Instead you would take life without permission.”
As Victor’s face lost color and as he hemmed and hawed his excuses to Athena, Holly pulled Quentin away and nodded toward Selene’s unconscious figure. “What can we do to help her? I think she’s bleeding out.”
Quentin sought help from Athena’s corner. “Exalted One. She needs assistance.”
“I’m sorry, child, but it is her time. She will not suffer.”
As the protest formed on Holly’s lips, Quentin leaned in and kissed it away. “Stay silent, love. Athena will not be swayed.”
“But Quentin—”
“Holly, please don’t argue.”
When her large, trusting eyes turned up to him, Quentin’s heart stuttered in his chest. In this reality, he’d always maintained Holly’s faith in him, but he still held the memories of their previous timeline. This unfailing belief made Quentin fall in love with her all over again.
“Are you okay?” She cupped his cheek in her palm.
His gaze dropped to her protruding belly. “Yeah, I guess I am, but I want to get you to safety.”
The storm died out, and his words could be heard by all.
“You may take your woman home, Quentin Buchanan. Victor and his crew will bother you no more. He now knows you are favored by my father. Should you or your family be hurt, the tortures heaped upon him will be plenty.”
“Music to my ears.”
Hatred flared to life in Victor’s dark, dead eyes. The promise there was clear; if he should ever get the chance to hurt them, he’d take it and damn the consequences.
Quentin strode to where Victor stood silently fuming. “Not only will the tortures of the Gods be heaped upon you, Salinger. I will flay the skin from your bones if you ever look sideways at my wife or future children. Nod your understanding.” A slight twitch of Victor’s head was all the acknowledgment Quentin received, but it was enough. Never taking his eyes from his enemy, Quentin addressed Athena. “Goddess, with your leave, I will take my wife and her family from Athens.”
“Holly Buchanan, step forward.”
Holly carefully picked her way to Athena.
Athena nodded to her protruding belly. “May I?” When his wife nodded her agreement, the goddess laid her hands atop the mound. “Your child will possess untold power and will one day be a great leader. She will know suffering, but she will prevail to find the love of a lifetime. This is my blessing for you.”
A single tear escaped down Holly’s cheek as she smiled her joy. “Thank you, Exalted One. You are all that is gracious and kind.”
“Go in peace, children.”
Chapter 21
“I was hoping when Athena called me to her, that she was going to let me kick Victor in the ‘nads, or at the very least punch, him in the voice box,” Holly grumbled later that evening as they prepared for bed. “Poor Selene. She didn’t deserve what she got.”
Quentin drew her down on the mattress between his legs to rub the stress from her shoulders and back. “How did you know she was Victor’s sister?”
“He said as much before you came out of the museum. When she said she was no longer going to do his bidding, he told her that he should have made sure she drowned in the well on their family estate. Poor Selene turned white.” Holly took a shuddering breath. “That’s when he shot her.”
“I’m sorry you had to witness that, love.” Quentin wrapped his arms around her from behind and buried his nose in her neck.
“I thought I was next,” she whispered.
“I would have gone back and saved you. I don’t care how many times it took.” His fervent promise had her attempting to twist and face him. She finally gave up the fight with her bulging belly and stood.
“What happened to the scroll, Quentin?”
“What do you remember of our trip, Hol?”
“I don’t understand. You were there for the whole thing, except for your time in the vault.”
“No. I think I changed history tonight. That’s why I’m asking.”
“What? How? That makes no sense.”
“Humor me, love. Tell me what you remember about the trip.”
“We teleported in together yesterday afternoon. We visited the local touristy sites—until my feet started to throb�
�then we went back to our hotel suite.” She cocked her head to study him.
He gave her a warm smile. In the new timeline, they had ordered room service and spent the afternoon making slow leisurely love. “Go on.”
Her blush assured him that was how she remembered the events too. “We had dinner and then got busy. When I woke from my nap, you were gone. As it got later, I grew concerned and contacted my father through the necklace he gave me. He and Nash arrived to look for you.” As he watched, she swallowed hard. “We were all worried when you didn’t return. When morning rolled around, you showed up and told me you spent the evening talking to Athena at her temple.”
“What next?”
“We all went out to breakfast to plan the heist of the scroll. I may have lost my temper a bit and stormed out.”
“A bit?”
“Okay, a lot. Nash didn’t want me to be a part of the mission because of my condition.” She pulled a face. “I caught a cab and went to the museum where I met Selene. We had tea. Oddly enough, I felt like we bonded in a weird way. We must have because she betrayed Victor in an attempt to help us escape tonight.”
“So at some point, you came back from tea with Selene, we all went to the gala, and when I entered the vault, you—along with your father and brother—escaped the Councils’ detection with the help of Selene. That’s when Victor cornered you outside.”
“Exactly.” She wove her fingers into his hair and tilted his head back. “I thought my heart would stop when that damned vault door slammed shut. When Nash said that wasn’t supposed to happen, I almost died.”
“I’m sorry, love. I was never in any danger.”
She closed her eyes, and he could practically feel her relief. This connection of theirs, while solid, was still new to him. He wasn’t used to being in perfect accord with Holly.
He glanced down at the wedding ring on his left hand.
His wife.
The memories of their wedding day were simply that—memories, and it made him sad to know he’d missed the ceremony. He wanted to experience the joy of exchanging their vows. Of removing her dress, inch by inch, off her silky, shimmering skin and laying her down on a bed covered in rose petals from Spring’s garden. Of making love to her until she incoherently screamed his name in her ecstasy.