Celestial Magic

by T. M. Cromer

  Sabrina beamed at the group from her place beside the hearth, where she was holding the Drakes’ infant daughter, Delaney. And Alastair—skilled at making everyone feel important—approached Sabrina’s chair. He accepted the baby from her to cradle close to his chest.

  “You’ve got the touch, child.” He smiled down into her pixie-ish face. “She’s radiating happiness. Mackenzie couldn’t have chosen a better person to help care for Delaney.”

  Sabrina basked in his praise, and her joy filled the room, making all the adults smile.

  Alastair kissed the baby’s brow and handed her back to Damian’s daughter. “I’ll leave her in your capable hands.”

  “Mama’s going to have a baby next, you know,” she said without looking at her father. “I’m going to take good care of him, too.”

  Preston glanced at Damian in time to see his pained expression. He’d heard the Aether and his wife were estranged, but Sabrina seemed positive there would be a reconciliation.

  With sardonic resignation, Damian shrugged. “I’ve learned not to question the beastie’s premonitions, no matter how fantastical they seem.”

  “Maybe we should pull her into our planning meeting,” Alastair quipped.

  While Sabrina appeared interested, Damian quickly vetoed the idea. He ushered everyone to the sitting area on the far side of the room, away from his daughter.

  “Preston tells us there’s trouble in paradise… or rather the Otherworld. What can we do to help?” Rorie accepted a cup of tea from Mackenzie and perched beside Selene on the settee. Two English roses. Each holding a special place in Preston’s heart. A portrait should be painted of them just so.

  As if she sensed his stare, Selene turned her head and meet his admiring gaze. Her expression was unreadable, and Preston had the pressing desire to ask Alastair if he could channel her emotions. Anything to give him a hint as to her feelings for him. But he’d never invade her private thoughts. She deserved better than that, and Preston wanted her to open up to him all on her own.

  Color crept into her cheeks, and she shifted to focus on the conversation around them.

  He decided he should tune in, too, if he wanted to do what he was sent here for.

  “Preston said Isis doesn’t believe the threat is from my mother,” Damian was saying. “I’m not sure I agree.”

  “The Evil wants everyone, Papa,” Sabrina called out. “You have to eat it, like Grandma did to save the witches.”

  They all whipped around and stared at her.

  “Excuse me?” Damian’s face was startlingly pale.

  “You have to eat the Evil,” she said matter-of-factly.

  Silence reigned for an entire minute. No one removed their focus from her.

  “Does anyone know what the devil she’s talking about?” Alastair kept his voice low enough that only those closest to him could hear.

  Sebastian cast him a sharp look. “Not the foggiest notion. We are talking about the convoluted ramblings of a seven-year-old child.” His comment earned him an irate look from Damian. Sebastian simply grinned and shrugged. “Have you been able to decipher everything she’s predicted?”

  “I’ve never known the baby Aether to be wrong,” Mackenzie said, expression thoughtful.

  “Sabrina’s a Seer, or what is known in our world as an Oracle. There is only one. After the one dies, another is reborn to take their place. The last Oracle I knew was killed during an uprising at the turn of the previous century. So, if my daughter is forewarning of an event, you can pretty much take it to the bank.” Damian crossed the room and squatted beside her. “It looks like you’re going to be included in the planning meeting after all, beastie. But I don’t want you to be afraid. I’ll be with you.”

  “I know, Papa.” Sabrina stroked a finger down her charge’s cheek, then carefully rose to her feet.

  Mackenzie met her halfway and accepted her daughter. She smoothed a hand down Sabrina’s shiny hair and kissed the crown of her head. “You’re the best babysitter.”

  “It’s true,” the child said. “Del doesn’t cry for me.”

  “Cute nickname, kid. I think I’ll keep it.”

  “You can’t, Mack. It’s Nate’s name for her.” Sabrina shrugged. “But he doesn’t mind if I use it, too.”

  Mackenzie and the others looked as confused as Preston felt.

  Damian was clued in to what was going on. “She doesn’t mean Nathanial. She means her future brother.”

  “Nate and Del will be best friends. They’ll sav—”

  “Sabrina!” Damian scooped her up in his arms and placed a finger lightly over her lips. “We talked about this. You cannot go around regurgitating future events to everyone. It has the potential to alter timelines.”

  She pulled his hand away with a frown. “But Nate and Del will always be together, Papa. They always are, and they—”

  “I think you’re purposely missing my point, you gremlin. So let me put this in a way you’ll understand. Stop telling people what you know. It simply isn’t done.” With a shake of his head, he touched his nose to hers. “You will be the Aether one day, my love. What you say and do has importance. You must only feed people the information relevant to the moment, or you can influence an outcome.”

  “But Del is now,” she said stubbornly.

  “But Nate isn’t,” he retorted.

  A twinkle entered her dark eyes, and she grinned. “But he will be after tonight.”

  Damian tossed her over his shoulder so she hung upside down. “That’s it. I’m shipping her off to boarding school. Who knows of a good one? A place where they serve kale and broccoli.”

  “No, Papa! Not broccoli!” Sabrina squealed her displeasure. “You said I’d never have to eat broccoli. Ever!”

  “That was before.” He shot the group a wink. “Now, you have to suffer the consequences.”

  “I’ll be good. I promise!” she shouted against his back.

  “I don’t know.” Damian’s voice sounded unconvinced, and he battled a revealing smile.

  Mackenzie handed Delaney off to Sebastian and reached for Sabrina. “Give her to me. You’ve tortured my favorite baby Aether long enough. I’ll have to soothe her with ice cream now.”

  “Oh, thank you, Mack! Thank you!” Sabrina wrapped her skinny arms around Mackenzie’s neck.

  “Don’t thank her too quickly, my darling beastie.” Damian pasted on a gleeful grin and flared his eyes wide. “The ice cream is broccoli flavored.”

  “Nooooooo! You promised, Papa.”

  “Fine, fine. But if you are going to have ice cream, you must conjure enough dessert for everyone.”

  A devilish look crossed her tiny face. “For everyone? And they have to eat it?”

  “I’m not eating anything that tastes like pickled pigs’ feet. Do away with that thought immediately.”

  Sabrina laughed as Mackenzie led the way to the dining room. Their group followed, with Preston and Selene taking up the rear.

  “You look a little sad, Mr. Thorne.” Her voice was soft, with a hint of concern.

  “Sabrina reminds me of my daughters when they were her age.”

  Selene nodded her understanding. “It’s lovely to see such closeness in a family. I never had anything remotely similar.”

  “Not with your mother before she passed?”

  She gave him a sharp look. “So you do remember? I had my doubts you did.”

  “I do now. I hadn’t prior to my demise.” He grimaced. “However, as Isis’s consort, I was granted access to what she believed to be relevant knowledge.”

  “I see.” She seemed to be weighing something and finally gathered the courage to ask. “Why did you create a trust for a child you didn’t know?”

  “Had you had a representative and had there been more time, you might’ve sold the painting I purchased for ten times the amount I paid.” He shrugged lightly. “It bothered me to think you’d been cheated out of your inheritance due to your desperate straits.”

 
“You arranged for me to be paid what the piece was actually worth.” She nodded as if she understood. “The school and the elderly woman who raised me? Those were from the trust you set up?”

  “They were. As was the cost of the papers to forge your new identity.”

  “You knew my mother’s death wasn’t an accident, didn’t you?”

  “I scryed for the events of that night, after our initial meeting.”

  “And you made it look like I died in the fire to protect me?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “Then I’m in your debt.”

  “No.” He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “You owe me nothing, Selene. What I did for you that day, I’d have done for anyone in need. Until recently, I’d honestly forgotten about the incident. I paid Agnes a good sum of money to hide you from Victor and see to your care. She was hired to keep you cloaked and to send reports to my assistant.” He felt a hint of embarrassment for not following up to make sure she, as a child, was safe. But thirty-plus years was a lifetime, and many other things in his life had gone belly up back then. Not the least was his marriage to Aurora. “I had no idea you were that girl until Isis told me, long after you and I met in the Otherworld. I never made the connection to your name.”

  “I find that difficult to believe.”

  “Believe it, my dear,” Alastair said from where he leaned against the doorjamb. “My brother is a bit like an absentminded professor. His plight was made worse by the arrival of a baby girl he was left to raise on his own.”

  She whipped back to face Preston. “It really is true?”

  “Yes. By the time I gave it a second thought, many years had passed.” He shrugged. “Apparently, you’d changed your name again after Agnes died, and since I assumed you were in hiding, I left you to your fate. I’m sorry.”

  A small smile played upon her lips as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You are nicer than I imagined.”

  Chapter 4

  Selene didn’t want to make Preston feel worse by telling him Victor had eventually found her. No one else needed to share her miserable memories. It was bad enough that she lived with the horrors dealt to her. Time and time again, her brother had pulled her into his vile schemes and made her life a living hell. Every chance she got, she’d circumvented his unscrupulous plans, but more often than not, she was forced to go along or suffer the consequences of her refusal.

  Yet the moment she’d met Holly Thorne, Selene had felt compelled to help her. Perhaps it was the fierce, unwavering love the woman bore her husband, or maybe it was Holly’s never-say-die attitude, but the admiration Selene had felt for her was strong.

  In the end, she’d paid with her life for siding with the Thornes instead of Victor. Her half brother deserved no loyalty, and when news of Victor’s demise reached Selene in the Otherworld, she’d lifted her wineglass to toast Karma. And when she’d learned it was at the hand of Alastair’s future daughter-in-law, Selene had laughed and downed the rest of the bottle, sending blessings to each and every Thorne in existence as well as all their future babies.

  She found it telling that Preston would care for a child he had no attachment to with no agenda or expectations. She’d meant what she said; he was a kind man. He seemed startled she’d noticed, and he stared down at her with something akin to confusion.

  Tucking her arm through Preston’s, she looked at Alastair and smiled. “Please, lead the way so we might join the others. I’m sure we all want this mess resolved sooner rather than later.”

  A blinding smile curled Alastair’s mouth, and Selene had the distinct impression she’d passed a test of sorts. Wordlessly, he dipped his head in acknowledgment and moved away.

  “I’m not quite certain what that’s all about, but apparently, my brother likes you,” Preston murmured. “It’s always a good thing to be on the right side of Alastair Thorne.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind for our future interactions.” She gave his bicep a light squeeze. “Do you think we can conjure some lemon cakes with sugar drizzle? I’ve missed those most of all.”

  “My dear Ms. Barringer, you can conjure anything your heart should desire.”

  “You say the sweetest things.”

  “Oh, I’m happy to say bawdy things as well.” He shot her a wicked glance. “If you’d ever let your guard down long enough, I’d go overboard with all the naughty suggestions.”

  “The one time I let my guard down, I ended up in the Otherworld,” she said softly, hoping he’d understand it wasn’t him she was rejecting. “My life wasn’t conducive to allowing anyone in.”

  “And that carried over after death,” he concluded, all teasing gone.

  She tightened her fingers in response.

  He covered her hand with his. “Perhaps you’ll come to trust me.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “That’s all I ask.” He halted outside the large dining hall. “If you find you can’t, I’ll understand, Selene. It won’t be easy for me to walk away, because of who I am and how I’m programmed, but I won’t push you into a relationship you find abhorrent.”

  How did she tell him she wasn’t repelled by him in the slightest, when the words seemed to stick in her throat? Instead, she did the only thing she could think to do—she kissed him. A single light, clinging kiss, applying just enough teeth to his lower lip to show she was serious with her love bite.

  When he opened his eyes to stare down at her, they had lightened to a golden hue. The changing irises were a barometer of a witch’s deeper feelings. The darker they were, the stormier the emotions within. To see Preston’s this clear and bright was a beautiful sight to behold.

  “It’s mean, you know,” he murmured huskily.

  “What is?”

  “Kissing me right before we’re needed in there.” He gestured to the double doors with his thumb. “I’m fighting the urge to teleport with you to the Drakes’ maze.”

  Selene lowered her eyes and suppressed a laugh. When she could speak without a hint of her amusement, she asked, “What would you do when we got there?”

  His eyes slowly ran the length of her body, and on the return trip, he lifted his hand. Fire flared from his fingertips as his gaze held hers. “What do you think?”

  Shifting so her back was to him, she allowed her grin. “A bonfire?”

  “Oh, something would be burning, all right.”

  She did laugh then. “Come on, you charming rogue. We have evil to conquer.”

  Inside the dining room, everyone was gathered at one end of the table. A ten-foot sideboard was littered with countless dishes ranging from appetizers to desserts. As Selene lifted a serving spoon to fill a plate, Preston presented her with a small tray of the lemon cakes she craved.

  “They aren’t as tasty as you,” he whispered.

  “But you barely got a taste,” she whispered back.

  “One was enough.”

  Before she could reply, Alastair joined them and stole one of the mini cakes for himself. “I don’t mean to be insensitive here, but the sexual vibes the two of you are putting off are killing my concentration. Can you dial it back a bit for the sake of saving the world?” With a wink, he popped the lemony goodness into his mouth and strolled off, casual as you please.

  Selene sputtered in her embarrassment as Preston laughed. “How did he… how could he…?”

  “My brother’s an empath.”

  “Ohdeargod!”

  “Personally, I’m glad the ‘sexual vibes’ aren’t all one-sided.” As he walked away, he whistled. A jaunty off-key tune.

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or be irritated by his cavalier attitude. Glancing down at the lemon cakes, she giggled. The man was impossible, but she fancied him all the same.

  * * *

  Preston held out a chair for Selene, then took the seat next to hers. With her attention focused firmly on Damian, who was currently calling their meeting to order, she placed one of her beloved lemon cakes on Preston’s plate.

&nb
sp; He couldn’t prevent his smile of satisfaction even if his life depended on it. Across the table, Aurora pressed her lips together, and he suspected it was to hide her own amusement. When she met his eyes, he knew it was true. Her approving gaze darted between the two of them before she flared her eyes slightly as if to say, “You’re making progress, darling.”

  Aurora would forever be in his corner, just as he would be in hers. During their married years, they’d developed an unbreakable bond of friendship. Neither her seventeen-year stasis nor his death had destroyed it.

  She suddenly became serious. “Thank you,” she mouthed.

  He frowned his question.

  She formed the words, “For everything.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said soundlessly. He didn’t know whether she referred to the last day of his life, when he’d saved her from drinking poison, or whether she meant the uncontested resolution of their relationship so she could be with Alastair, but it didn’t matter. Whatever it took to make her life better, he would do. He owed her for their beautiful children and all the years she’d made his home a happy one.

  “Preston.”

  He looked up in question when Damian called his name.

  “For the sake of everyone, why don’t you repeat your conversation with Isis? We all need to know exactly what we’re dealing with here.”

  After Preston relayed everything verbatim, he paused to let his words sink in. The idea of lost loved ones on either side of the veil was terrifying, and they all needed to come to grips with the horror of the situation before moving forward.

  “Why did Nathanial stay behind?” Alastair hadn’t bothered to dress in his standard suit, but he instinctively reached to straighten his tie before he purposefully stopped his nervous habit. Anyone close to him would recognize the gesture for what it was—Alastair working through a problem.

  Evie replied for Preston. “People were becoming aggressive toward one another. He hoped to keep the peace for as long as possible.”

  “And Mother?” His brother’s eyes darkened to the deepest sapphire.