by T. M. Cromer
“I wanted Damian to do something similar for me once.”
“You did?”
“Yes. I asked him to take away Evie’s memories regarding the death of our children. I wanted her to believe they lived somewhere else in the world, happy and healthy, because no parent should outlive their children. That rawness never goes away.”
“And did he?”
“No. No, he magically tied me to a chair and made me listen to his lecture for a solid hour on the foolishness of my request.”
Mackenzie’s lips twitched, and humor came back to her eyes. “Damian did that?”
“Indeed. He felt I was dishonoring our children by even making such a request. He was right, but you see, I couldn’t bear Evie’s pain. I told myself it would be better if, whenever she thought of our sons, a false memory of a happy phone call or letter supplanted the truth.”
“She would believe they’d already been to visit or were at least planning to?”
“Yes.” He closed his eyes for a moment and allowed the haunting memories from long ago to wash over him. “Damian was right. It was a foolish request. Evie deserved better than lies and half truths.”
Nate sensed his wife’s presence a few seconds before she placed her hand on his lower back.
“And it’s a damned good thing you didn’t take my memories, because if I’d ever found out, I’d have skinned you alive, Nathanial Alastair Thorne.”
A smile tugged at his lips, as it always did when she scolded him. “Ah, Evie, my heart. You’re just in time to be properly introduced to Mackenzie.”
His vision blurred as his two favorite women hugged. After he dabbed his eyes, he tugged at his cuffs and cleared his throat of the overwhelming emotion.
“He’s what you would call a big softie, dear,” Evie said with a fond look back at him. “My Nathanial.”
“I confess, I’m going to miss the antics of Teddie and Leopold,” Mack told them. “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard in my life as when Baz and I found the pickle sock on the bedroom floor.”
Evie’s light, breathy laugh—the one that always squeezed his heart and made his dick stand up to take notice—rang out. “He has an entire dresser drawer full of those socks. Each has some sarcastic saying or another.”
Reaching down, she lifted his pant leg. The quote on the purple sock read, “Don’t worry. It only seems kinky the first time.”
Nate shrugged and turned his ankle to model the sock. “Should we show her your favorite embroidered pillow, Evie, my love?”
Mack’s smile was open and engaging, and Nate was happy to have her mind off the subject of the Enchantress for the time being. He nodded to Sebastian as he joined their small group.
“What’s it say, Grandma Evie?”
Evie arched a brow and conjured the pillow with Nate’s image pressed upon it. Underneath his grinning mug, it read, “I’d totally sit on this man’s face until I came or he suffocated, whichever came first.”
Mackenzie’s laughter echoed off the grotto walls and triggered theirs.
“Now I know where Mack gets her naughty streak,” Sebastian said with a low chuckle.
Grinning, Nate clapped him on the back. “You have no idea just how naughty ‘Aunt Teddie’ can be, son.”
A sickly pallor came over Sebastian’s visage. “Please, please don’t call her that in front of me. I’m not sure my stomach can handle the idea of her ‘naughtiness’ in Teddie form.”
Evie snapped her fingers, reverting to Baz’s elderly aunt. A puke-green evening gown opened in the front and plunged down to a heavily wrinkled belly button, giving her skin a sallow hue. She placed her hands over pancake-flat, sagging breasts and gave them a quick boost up. “I don’t know what’s wrong with young folk today. How do you think babies are made, Baz?”
Sebastian turned paler when she winked at him, and he pressed a palm to his stomach. “I. Can’t. Even.”
Not to be outdone, Nathanial waved a hand and transformed into Leopold wearing a seventies-style suit in leopard-print material. He hefted Evie/Teddie into his arms and strode toward the door to their underground apartment. “I’m taking you to bed, Evie, my love. And when you sit on my face, I trust you’ll come long before I suffocate.”
Sebastian’s audible gag sounded behind them, and Evie’s breathy laugh rang out, doing what it always did and sending blood straight to Nate’s groin.
Chapter 22
The next morning, Sebastian paid a visit to Ravenswood. Before he could knock, the door swung open to reveal Damian standing in the opening.
Sebastian’s brows shot up, and he glanced beyond the Aether, into the hallway. Sabrina peeked around the stairwell, curiosity lighting up her little face. He shot her a quick wink.
“Drake.”
“Dethridge.”
Damian’s lips twitched. “I suppose you are here to discuss Leopold and Teddie.” He stepped back and waved an arm as an invitation to enter.
“I’m curious why no one thought to tell me he was a Guardian.”
Guardians were selected by the gods, goddesses, and the Aether to watch over whatever they deemed important enough to monitor. In most cases, they stood in as representatives or moderators and relayed the wishes of those powerful entities. Most were brought back after their death and locked to a certain location. Some voluntarily transitioned before their demise. But again, they were forced to watch over a specific place for whatever reason the gods or goddesses deemed necessary.
“I’m not sure. Obviously, you and I weren’t on speaking terms, but after your parents passed on, it fell to Gwennie, Evie or Nathanial to tell you. I can only assume Isis had her reasons for them to remain quiet on the subject.”
Irritation sparked inside him, and Sebastian tamped it out. It did him no good to be upset, because what was done was done, but it didn’t sit well that he hadn’t known what was going on under his own roof. “Thank you for your honesty. I’ll leave you to enjoy your day.”
“Join me for a cup of coffee.”
For the second time that morning, Damian surprised him.
Sebastian nodded and followed him into the sitting room.
“Come join us, beastie. No sense lurking outside the doorway.”
Damian’s indulgent smile held a world of love for his tiny daughter, and Sebastian felt a kernel of envy. Not that he wanted Damian’s life, but because he wanted something similar with Mackenzie. He wanted to have children with her, mischievous little beasties of his own to run about, taking joy in and laughing at everything life had to offer, like their mother.
“We’ll stop her, Baz. We have no choice for both our families’ sakes,” Damian said in a low voice so his daughter didn’t overhear.
Sebastian nodded and gave him a grim half smile. “I pray you are right.”
Sabrina skipped up to him and gave him another curious look.
“Hi. I’m Sebastian. We didn’t have a chance to talk at the wedding ceremony, but I greatly appreciate that you took part. It made Mack happy.”
“She let me make my own dress.”
He flared his eyes wide and smiled. “She’s fun like that, isn’t she?”
Sabrina nodded. “I’m sorry for what my Grandma is going to do to her.”
The blood in Sebastian’s veins froze, and it seemed his heart had to pump twice as hard to push it through its chambers. A dull thudding started in his ears.
“Beastie,” Damian said with a heavy warning tone. “What did I tell you about blurting things of that magnitude to strangers?”
“But he’s not a stranger, Papa. He’s Cousin Baz.”
Both men exchanged a shocked look.
“What do you mean, my love?”
Sabrina dropped her gaze to the floor, shrugged, and picked at the hem of her frilly pink dress.
Damian knelt beside her and wrapped an arm around her to tug her closer. Taking her tiny hand in his, he lifted it and placed it on his cheek to gain her attention. “Sabrina. Don’t be shy now.
I won’t be angry and neither will Baz, but you need to tell me what you’ve seen.”
“It’s all in the book, Papa. The one Mack will find.” She smiled and leaned close. In a not so quiet whisper, she said, “Grandma’s magic book. Not the one you keep in the room behind the wall.”
“Mack said something last night…” Sebastian struggled to recall her exact words. “‘Find the book, and all will be well,’” he said softly. Glancing up, he saw Damian was now focused on him as if his next words were paramount. “She told me she’d heard a voice in her head. It said, ‘Find the book, and all will be well.’ At the time, I thought it was ominous as he—uh, heck,” he corrected with a quick glance in Sabrina’s direction. “Do you think that’s Isolde’s book, Damian?”
The girl tapped her father’s cheek to gain his attention. “Not that Grandma, Papa. Grandma Drake.”
“I’m confused.” Sebastian looked at the father/daughter duo. They wore matching thoughtful looks, and he was left to wonder what the hell they were turning over in those ever-active brains of theirs.
Damian shrugged and lifted Sabrina. “I suppose we are going on a treasure hunt.” He grinned at his daughter and flared his eyes wide. “Run tell your mama we are escaping this joint.”
“Vivian’s here?” Sebastian faced the door as if just by saying her name, she’d appear. He didn’t know how he’d feel about seeing her after all this time and paused to examine his innermost feelings on the matter. Nothing. No resentment, no lingering jealousy. He sighed his relief. It seemed if they could defeat Isolde, he’d be entirely free of the past and open to moving forward with Mackenzie without a cloud hanging over them.
“She is.” Damian’s tone was grave, almost sad in nature.
“Ah. You still haven’t repaired the rift?”
Damian absently touched the front of his shirt and drew Sebastian’s gaze to the outline of a ring on a chain beneath the white material.
“It’s none of my business, Dethridge. Forget I asked.”
“No, it’s all right. She agreed to move back for Sabrina’s sake. But apparently, I still only deserve her suspicion and disdain.”
“I’m sorry.” Sebastian found he meant it. He hated they were at odds. Looking back, he could now admit he’d never seen a couple so enamored with each other after their first meeting. Vivian was exquisite with her peaches-and-cream complexion, wide blue eyes, and stark-white hair. She’d always reminded him of a Christmas angel that sat on top of a tree. Damian, on the other hand, was the direct contrast to his wife. Dark. Dangerous. No one would ever mistake him for an angel unless it was the fabled Lucifer.
“Because I can feel you mean it, I’ll say thank you.” The Aether sighed heavily and patted him on the back. “But one problem at a time, cousin.”
“So you believe Sabrina, then?”
“She’s never wrong. It’s disturbing some days.”
Sebastian found himself chuckling at Damian’s put-upon expression. “Well, all that remains, in that case, is for us to find Grandma Drake’s book.”
Sebastian and the Dethridges—Vivian included because she insisted on meeting Mackenzie—decided to take the scenic route back to the Drake estate. And by scenic, it meant Damian wanted to teleport into the far garden to check the wards for the Garden of Death were still firmly in place.
As they strolled across the expanse of lawn toward the gate, Damian made clopping noises for his daughter’s benefit. From her piggyback perch, the girl giggled and patted his shoulder.
“What’s she like, Baz?” Vivian’s sweet voice didn’t trigger the old emotion he’d once held for her, and for that, Sebastian was grateful.
“Who? Mack?” At her nod, he grinned. “She’s amazing, Viv. Intelligent. Funny. Full of life.” He looked down at her. “I think you’ll like her. It’s impossible not to.”
“She’s all Sabrina can talk about these days.” Vivian reached up and caressed her daughter’s pink cheek. “I think this one has a case of hero worship.”
“There’s much to admire about Mackenzie,” Damian said with a tight smile.
Vivian’s expression turned chilly, and she looked away from him.
Sebastian’s gaze collided with Damian’s. Because he couldn’t offer up his regret for their troubles, he sent a silent message, knowing the Aether would receive it. Damian gave a brisk nod and looked toward the enchanted gate.
“This is where we all part ways.” He swung his daughter down. “I’ll meet you on the terrace shortly.”
“Aww, Papa. I want to see the Death Garden.”
Sebastian snorted. “Seriously? That’s what you named it?”
“Why? What do you call it?” Damian asked a bit defensively.
“The Garden of Death.”
They shared a laugh. Vivian simply shook her head at their silliness and clasped her daughter’s hand.
“We’ll see you at the house, Damian,” she informed him coolly, setting off in that direction.
Sabrina looked over her shoulder, her expression forlorn.
“I believe your daughter has a morbid curiosity, Dethridge.”
“I worry she’ll grow to be like Wednesday Addams.”
Sebastian laughed. “Look at you with your pop-culture reference.”
“I’m hipper than you know.”
“You were referring to the black and white version of the show, weren’t you?”
“Stuff it, Drake.”
Chapter 23
Mackenzie rose from the lounger as Sabrina arrived with an ethereal-looking blond woman in tow.
Vivian.
It had to be, because Damian wouldn’t trust his daughter to just anyone. Seeing her in all her loveliness, Mack experienced a twinge of jealousy. Here was the woman once engaged to Sebastian. The one no longer in love with her own husband and who could potentially look to rekindle what she’d once had with her neighbor.
Mackenzie frowned at her dark thoughts. She wasn’t normally prone to jealousy or suspicion. The only question mark hanging over her future happiness with Sebastian was that of Isolde’s resurrection. Shaking off her mood, she pasted on a welcoming smile and descended the wide stone steps to greet the newcomers.
Vivian stopped a few feet away, a wary expression in place. “You must be Mackenzie.”
“Yes. And you must be Vivian,” she said with a cordiality she didn’t feel.
“Yes.”
Okay, seriously awkward as far as introductions went, and Mack almost laughed at their formality. She dropped her gaze to Sabrina, giving her the genuine smile she’d been unable to manage for the girl’s mother. “Hello, beastie.”
The child’s excitement bubbled up, and she pulled away from Vivian to fling herself into Mackenzie’s waiting arms. “We’re here to hunt for treasure, Mack!”
“Really? How exciting!” She laughed and lifted Sabrina so she was eye level. “What kind of treasure? Gold doubloons? No, wait, those were Spanish. Hmm, let me think.” She bit her nail in pretend contemplation. “I know! A leprechaun’s pot of gold.”
Sabrina’s eyes were wide and sparkled with her joy. “Nope. That’s Ireland, silly.”
“Hmm. Right. Okay, so if it’s not doubloons and not a pot of gold, it must be jewels from a highwayman’s take. Am I close?”
“Nope.” Dark ringlets bounced as Sabrina shook her head. “Not close.”
Mackenzie glanced at Vivian, who was watching her daughter with an indulgent smile. “What say you, Vivian?”
“Apparently, we are here to find her grandmother’s book.”
Mackenzie froze, not sure she’d heard correctly. Her smile dropped from her face. “What?”
“Grandma Drake’s book, Mack. Cousin Baz came over and told Papa you said you needed to find it.”
Unsure if the budding betrayal was what she was supposed to feel at this moment, Mack nevertheless did. She’d told Sebastian about the book last night, but she hadn’t expected him to go running to Damian first thing this morning.
“We don’t have to. I can show you the room.”
“How?”
Sabrina tapped Mackenzie’s temple. The picture of a tall furniture piece appeared in Mack’s mind. Channeling the image, she looked around the room—not one she’d ever seen before—but the sun shining through the far window was in the same position in the sky as it currently was.
Lifting her head, she stared at the east tower, seeing for the first time an extension above the roofline. The room had a stained glass window depicting an entwined couple dressed in medieval garb. The sun caught the woman’s auburn hair, and it flared bright. If Mackenzie didn’t know any better, she’d say the woman resembled her in profile. She squinted up at the building. The black-haired man holding her looked remarkably like Sebastian, too.
“There,” a voice inside her head purred. The twisted satisfaction coursing through her veins gave Mackenzie pause, and she shifted to stare down into Sabrina’s horrified eyes, briefly wondering if her own held a matching horror as Isolde possessed her. The vicious headache struck.
“Please don’t hurt my mama, Grandma,” Sabrina whispered.
Mackenzie grabbed onto Sabrina’s fear like a lifeline. She struggled to regain control of her body even as Isolde fought like hell to remain in charge.
“Vivian… take her… go… now!”
Vivian ran forward and snatched Sabrina into her arms, teleporting to Goddess only knew where.
Still, Mackenzie fought for supremacy over Isolde. “Not… this… time… you bitch!”
She grabbed her head, feeling if she didn’t, it would split wide open like a watermelon at a Tennessee family picnic. The pain was excruciating, and she wanted nothing more than to give in to relieve the pressure.
Footsteps pounded the pavement behind her, and she managed to hold up a hand. “Don’t!”