by T. M. Cromer
“I’m sorry, Baz.”
When Damian met his stare head-on, Sebastian was convinced he meant it. “Thank you.”
He tilted his head from side to side to ease the knotted muscles and turned the subject back to retrieving the spellbook. Because what else could he do? If he let his mind dwell on what might happen, he’d lose it. As it was, he was wrapped tighter than a corner-shop sandwich.
“Spring, it’s common knowledge you have the Thornes’ grimoire memorized from cover to cover.” Sebastian shot a quick look in Knox’s direction. “I imagine you’ve done the same with the Carlyles’. Are there any ideas or incantations either of you might think of that could be helpful?”
“My dad might know,” Spring said. Her voice hung up when she mentioned her father, and she didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “We could call on him or ask Isis to send him to help.”
Knox enfolded her in a tight embrace, and she placed her hand over his heart. “We could try, sweetheart.”
Sebastian turned away to give her a moment to compose herself.
Preston’s death had been sudden and particularly vicious, last year. He’d gone to confront his cousin when she’d tried to poison Aurora. It had earned him a bullet to the heart and his remains burned beyond recognition. It had taken DNA to identify him, and the Thorne family now had an open wound the size of a crater where their hearts should be.
“First, let me try something.” Sebastian gestured to the armoire. “How close am I, Damian?”
“Another foot to your right. If you reach straight out, you should connect with the handle.”
He took a fortifying breath and positioned himself in front of the unit. “Here?”
Damian nodded, a slight smirk on his lips. “Knox, you may want to cover your wife’s eyes. You wouldn’t want her to see what’s beneath Drake’s skirt when it flies up over his head.”
“You’re a bundle of laughs, Dethridge,” Sebastian said dryly. “If this stops my heart, tell Mack my last thoughts were of her, won’t you?”
“Drama, drama, drama. Get to it, mate.”
“Why don’t you tell me again how comfortable it was for you to be knocked on your arse?”
Damian laughed at the retort and waved a hand toward the invisible chest. “It’s not opening itself, Baz.”
“I feel as if I should at least try the old ‘open sesame’ before I electrocute myself.”
The wooden door creaked on its hinges at the same time the cloaking spell faded away to reveal the linen press.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Damian was the picture of outrage.
Sebastian began to laugh, and for a moment, they all stared at him in shock. One by one, they joined in. When he could speak again, he said, “I suppose my gran had the same sense of humor I do.”
“Your gran can go to the devil!” Damian’s smile belied his words. “Now, reach in there and get that book.”
Chapter 26
“What’s going on here?” Sebastian noticed Mackenzie’s absence the second he returned to the drawing room. “Where’s Mack?”
“Having a cuppa with Aunt Teddie,” Arabella replied. “I suspect our aunt will add a bracing dash of brandy for what poor Mack just went through.”
His stomach tightened, and his gaze darted from one person to the other. “What did she just go through?”
Alastair uncrossed his arms and moved closer to him. “Seems your friend, Hugh, decided to hold a knife to her throat.”
“What?”
“Don’t panic, son. She’s none the worse for wear.” Alastair’s grin seemed out of place until he said, “She punched Mr. Cunningham in the face for his troubles.”
Sebastian nearly choked on a disbelieving laugh. “I’m going to check on Mack. I’ll be right back.” He started to leave the room but retraced his footsteps to stare down at Hugh. “It’s a good thing you didn’t hurt her, Cunningham. I’d have torn your heart from your chest.” Not giving the sniveling prick a chance to respond, Sebastian hauled off and punched him in the face. “I hope that hurts you more than Mack’s did, you wanker.”
“We’ll make a Thorne of you yet, Drake.” Alastair’s laughter followed him from the room.
Sebastian found Mackenzie seated at the kitchen island, across from Evie. The women looked deep in conversation, so he didn’t interrupt, and instead, prepared himself a cup of tea from the pot on the counter.
Without speaking or looking at him, Evie shoved a decanter of brandy toward him. He found his lips twitching as he fought a grin because, in all honesty, he liked this woman much better than the aunt she’d pretended to be. He refrained from saying so, in case he hurt her feelings.
When the conversation between Mackenzie and her great-great-grandmother wound down, he finally spoke. “I’m sorry about Hugh, Mack. If I’d thought he was anything but a harmless coward, I’d never have left you in a room with him.”
“You had no way of knowing what he’d pull, Baz. Hell, I’m psychic and never saw it coming.” She gave him a tender smile. “Don’t tell me if you found what you’re looking for, but if there is anything worthwhile, please get on it. I really want this horrid Enchantress trapped forever and unable to cause any more damage.”
Nathanial arrived in a burst of twinkling lights. “I think you’d better come quick. Alastair and GiGi have decided to sacrifice Hugh to the garden. Damian, Spring, and Knox have agreed to the plan. Only your sister and aunt believe it to be a terrible idea.”
“To the Garden of Death?” Sebastian asked hoarsely. “What the hell are they thinking?”
“It appears you agree with your family.” Mackenzie downed the last of her tea like a shot of alcohol—which it most likely was—and got to her feet. “I suppose we should see if we can prevent a murder.”
He swore under his breath when it registered she wasn’t joking. “Your family is off the rails on a good day, Mack. I wouldn’t consider this a good day. They always react without thinking things through.”
“First, they always think things through.” She propped her hands on her hips and glared. “Just because it’s not what you would do, in all your conservative English glory, doesn’t mean they’re wrong. Let’s not forget, it was your sister who thought it was smart to bring me here. The only witch alive who could be used as the Enchantress’s tool. Talk about not thinking something through!”
Sebastian had no comeback. Mackenzie was right. Of course, he didn’t have to like that she was, but he had no valid argument at this point. “In that case, let’s go find out what the plan is and see if we can prevent that murder. For sure, this wouldn’t be sanctioned by the Witches’ Council.”
She bit her lip and looked down.
He had the feeling she was about to make a snarky comment. “It was the Witches’ Council remark, wasn’t it? I didn’t realize how absolutely ridiculous it would sound until it was out of my mouth.”
Really, Sebastian should’ve known better than to bring up the Council, considering how many times the Thornes flouted or outright broke their laws. He’d met Mackenzie for the first time some months back because she took part in one of her family’s schemes, as GiGi and Ryker had somehow convinced Sebastian to do. A more breathtaking woman he’d never met, but when he’d discovered Mackenzie wasn’t just a pretty face and that she held a degree in nanoscience, he was smitten. Her superior intelligence allowed her to convert a magical potion into a sleeping gas, effectively rendering the Council members unconscious while the rest of the Thornes performed a ceremony to bring Ryker’s sister back from the dead. All in an effort for Trina Gillespie to testify against her murderer.
He’d been trying to schmooze her into having dinner with him ever since.
“I’m surprised you even went there, Baz, knowing Alastair and how much he detests the WC.” Mackenzie turned sparkling eyes up to him, allowing her grin.
“It doesn’t mean he shouldn’t follow their guidelines.”
She shrugged. “You say guidelines, we hear ridicul
ous mandates.”
Sebastian shot her a sour look as he reached for her hand. “Come on.”
They caught up with the Thornes by Isolde’s gate, and Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief to see the sigils void of light. If they’d been flickering, he’d have more to worry about than stopping Alastair and his half-baked scheme. Because without a doubt, this wasn’t straight up revenge against Hugh. Of course, they weren’t beyond retaliation, but Sebastian would bet all the money he owned this was to level the playing field or remove the Enchantress from it once and for all. Even without knowing what they’d come up with, Sebastian was familiar enough with this crew to know they were diabolical in their thinking. A Thorne’s half-baked idea was still likely to be better than anyone else’s fully planned course of action.
“What’s this about, Thorne?”
Alastair never looked up from his study of the symbols carved into the opening as he said, “Mr. Cunningham has decided he wants to be the ultimate sacrifice for his beloved Enchantress. We thought we’d oblige.”
Okay, so perhaps Sebastian was wrong and it was about revenge. “No. Just, no.”
“Darling Baz.” GiGi sauntered forward and patted his chest. Behind her, Ryker growled. Her violet-blue eyes gleamed with humor, but she showed no other sign she found her husband’s jealousy funny. “I’ll amend that for Ryker’s sake. Dear Baz…” She paused to glance inquiringly over her shoulder. Ryker nodded his acceptance. When she turned back, her grin was firmly in place. “…We’re doing this with or without you.”
Sebastian glanced down at Mackenzie, but she wasn’t looking at her aunt. Her focus was on Hugh. A heavy frown drew her brows together, and she squeezed his hand in reaction to whatever she was thinking.
“What is it, Mack?”
In a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “He seems extremely calm, doesn’t he? Why wouldn’t he be fearful?”
“Zealots rarely are, my dear child,” GiGi said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
But Sebastian understood what his wife meant. Even a person committed to a cause has a moment of nervousness. Hugh should be perspiring at the idea of being sent into the garden. Instead, his visage was filled with a suppressed excitement, as if he were eager to enter.
“This is a terrible idea.” Releasing Mackenzie’s hand, he walked forward until he was close to Hugh. “Do you know anything about the Enchantress and what she can do, Cunningham? I mean, truly do? Or anything about what she’s done in the past?”
“Yes. She is a goddess in her own right. She deserves to reign supreme.”
“You’re a fucking idiot if you believe that. She was mad then, and she’ll be even more deranged and dangerous if she wakes again after being trapped all these years.” Sebastian had to try one more time to get him to see reason. “She will kill everyone you’ve ever loved, Hugh. No exceptions.”
“You’re wrong. She’ll be thrilled I’ve done this for her. I’ll be rewarded with a place at her side.” Although doubt entered Hugh’s expression, he remained stoic and determined to bring this about. “My family will once more be respected in the witch community.”
“You’ve always been a fool, Hugh. This cements it.” With a sigh of disgust, Sebastian faced Alastair. “What is your idea, Thorne? I mean the full plan.”
“We open the gate, throw Hugh into the center of those possessed roses—as he requested earlier—and while they’re distracted by him, we open the tomb and kill the Enchantress in her weakened state.”
“As he requested? When did this come about, and since when do you think a witch with lesser intelligence than yours has a good idea?”
Alastair shrugged with his usual nonchalance. “What he actually said, was that he’d gladly give his life to bring her back. I was merely happy to make it happen. Of course, the destruction of Isolde was an added bonus.”
He had to admit, it didn’t seem horrible, except for the death of his school chum. Sebastian cast a side glance at Hugh. Had the man not been bouncing on his toes, ready for action, Sebastian supposed he’d have had more reservations.
Stepping back, he said, “Do what you must.”
“No!”
They all turned to Mackenzie.
“No. This is a terrible plan. I won’t let you do this to him.”
“Mackenzie, child, listen to me.” Alastair crossed to her. “This is the only way to stop her that any of us can see. Drake’s grandmother wrote in her spellbook to say she believed, ultimately, this would be necessary at some point in time.” With a thumb over his shoulder, he gestured to Hugh. “Cunningham would’ve killed you in his place, Mack.”
She shook her head, looking horrified. “I don’t care. I won’t be responsible for his death.”
“You’ll be responsible for a whole lot more deaths if you don’t get on board with this, Mackenzie,” Damian snapped.
The air around them kicked up, and the sigils on the gate flickered.
One by one, they all turned to stare.
“Bloody hell. She’s awake.” Damian cast an uneasy glance around. “But only just. We need to do this quickly.”
The wind whipped into a frenzy and bent the branches of the trees around them. Leaves, by the dozens, rained down on their heads.
“Mackenzie, stop. This is the only way.” Alastair grabbed her shoulders and gave her a small shake. “I told you once, if it comes to my family or another’s, it’s no contest.”
“You can’t do this. I won’t let you,” she cried.
Alastair gave a short nod to Sebastian. “Get her out of here. Now.”
The wind strengthened to storm force, and dark clouds gathered overhead as Mackenzie fought Sebastian’s hold. In the end, it took him and Ryker to contain her.
“This is wrong, Sebastian,” she screamed over the winds. “Don’t do this.”
They teleported her into the main hall, and Sebastian was relieved to be out of the building elements. He wasn’t quite sure why Mackenzie had suddenly become hysterical when she was always level-headed and even-tempered before. Perhaps it really was the thought of Hugh’s demise, but he somehow doubted it.
He gripped her face between his palms. “You said yourself your family knows what they are doing. Don’t second-guess them now, Mack. We need a win here.”
She forcefully shoved his hands away. “You’re a fool. You’re all fools.”
“Oh, shit,” Ryker muttered as he grabbed for Sebastian’s arm. “It’s not Mack.”
When a satisfied smile took the place of her rage, Sebastian had serious misgivings.
She placed a hand on her hip and struck a pose. “How do you know for sure, fellas?”
“You’re not Mack,” Sebastian stated past the dryness of his mouth.
Ryker positioned himself to fight, but they were both too late. Isolde flung her arms wide and sent them crashing into the wall. The impact hurt like a bitch, and try as he might, Sebastian couldn’t move.
“Isolde.”
She spun around to face Evie, who was no longer disguised as Aunt Teddie. “Ah, a Guardian. You’re too late to stop my resurrection—or the death of poor little Mackenzie Thorne. By the time her family realizes she’s now occupying the body in my tomb, it will be far too late. No. More. Mackenzie.” Isolde ran her hands down her new body. “But I’m grateful for my new vessel. I imagine you’ll find it difficult to destroy one of your own.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it.” Evie drew energy from the atmosphere around them, creating a weapon with her hands.
Sebastian wanted to call out, but even his vocal cords were suspended. He shot a frantic look at Ryker, locked on the far wall. The other man looked none too happy about the situation. They were going to be forced to watch these two powerful women go head to head.
Alastair waited until the freak storm created by Mackenzie fizzled before he turned to the gate. “What the devil does this mean, Dethridge? Why are these still illuminated this way?”
“She’s awake and prepared, would be my gu
ess.” Damian’s response was grim. He withdrew a stick pin from his shirt pocket and pricked his thumb. After he pressed a drop of blood into the center of the sun disc hieroglyphic, he faced them. “Let’s dial this open and get this over with. Spring, are you ready?”
“I am.” She positioned herself between Alastair and Damian. Her job as an earth elemental was to redirect the rose runners from them and toward Hugh.
Alastair glanced back. “Knox, start gathering the elements you need to electrocute Isolde. Damian will assist you after GiGi and I remove the lid.”
Nathanial placed his palm flat on the gate, and he began to chant some ancient spell in a language long-since extinct. Only Guardians had access to an incantation this powerful in nature.
Alastair shot a sideways look at Damian.
The Aether watched the lights all snuff out with a cold, detached air. It couldn’t be easy for him, knowing he’d be ending his mother’s reign for good this time.
Alastair didn’t know what he’d do in Damian’s position. Most likely the same thing, but for sure, he’d have his doubts. Unfortunately, they were out of time and options. Isolde needed to be stopped.
The sigils lit a fiery red, beginning at the bottom and running both clockwise and counterclockwise to meet at the top in an explosion of light. They all threw their arms up to shield their eyes. When the light dimmed, the gate swung wide.
Alastair had half expected the rose runners to be waiting to strike, but they were curled around the marble tomb in the center of the garden. He’d heard about the decimated ground, but he was ill-prepared for the sight of such bleakness. The entire garden looked like the dead area of a nuclear explosion.
Spring was just as shocked as he was if her horrified gasp was an indication.
A clear blue, film-like barrier shimmered over the opening and separated them from the squared-off tract. Alastair had never seen anything of its like before. “How do we breach it?”
“It’s an added measure to prevent entry. I’ll remove it.” When Nathanial turned to face them, misery was etched his features. “You should know, this isn’t only the resting place for the Enchantress. This was the final grave site for those who were lost in the battle with her. A rosebush was planted for each of the fallen witches and warlocks as a memorial to their bravery. To their obliterated soul.” He swallowed and cast his eyes down. “My father’s included.”