Nash stared, speechless and more than a little confused. The weirdness meter was in the red zone. Why was his father pretending to be him? When had Rylee shown up to stir up her special brand of shit? And why was Ryanne looking like she wanted to toss her cookies at any second?
His primary concern was for Ryanne. Dropping the tubs of ice cream on the coffee table, he sat beside her in the space Alastair had vacated. “What’s the matter? Why do you look so pale?”
Wordlessly, she rested her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her to tuck her close against his side.
Nash looked to his father for answers.
“She was a little faint. I believe she finally realized she cares about you.” Amusement was heavy in Alastair’s tone. “Speaking from past experience, it’s a shock when that happens.”
A happy grin worked its way up from Nash’s toes and took over his entire being. He couldn’t contain his smile if he tried. His arm tightened reflexively around Ryanne.
Unfortunately, now was not the time to discuss love or relationships, certainly not with Rylee glaring at them with barely concealed hostility. She did a fantastic job of hiding her feelings, but one of Nash’s special abilities was to discern other people’s emotions. A simple magical probe of the air between them and he was able to read Rylee’s angry energy as it carried across the short distance. It remained to be seen whether she was upset about a potential relationship between him and Ryanne, or some other unknown reason.
He’d need to revisit Rylee’s motives later. In the meantime, the urge to ease Ryanne’s upset was strong. “I didn’t realize you were hosting a party without me and your Häagan Dazs’s Midnight Cookies and Cream. I’d have hurried back.”
Nash felt her smile against his neck. As she straightened and reached for the bag of goodies, he silently mourned the loss of her in his arms.
“Your timing is impeccable, as always. I could use this to cool down my temper.”
“Who has you upset, my love? I’ll tear the skin from their bones.” He lifted her hand to drop a kiss on her knuckles. Those same knuckles rapped him on the side of his head.
“You’re such a geek.” She cast a hard look at the group. “Everyone, take a seat at the dining room table. We have things to discuss.”
Because Ryanne looked so troubled, Nash felt compelled to tease her again. “You’re sexy when you’re bossy.”
He grinned when she cast a glare in his direction. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop the telling twitch of her lips. Her humor was one of the things he appreciated most about her. Well, after her smoking-hot body.
Nash followed her to the kitchen on the pretext of making coffee. A quick backward glance showed Alastair and Rylee giving each other the stink eye. Careful to keep his tone low, he asked, “When did your sister arrive?”
“Less than two minutes after your father—which was about twenty minutes after you left.”
“I’m sorry, Ryanne. I wouldn’t have left if I’d have known you had to deal with this mess.”
“I don’t even know what this mess is. And besides, I kicked you out, remember?”
“True dat.” Nash dropped a quick kiss on her lips and conjured a pot of hot coffee. “We’d better get in there. Grab the cups.”
“I’m never going to get used to you producing things out of thin air,” she muttered as she rummaged through her cabinet for coffee mugs. “Or you saying things like ‘true dat.’”
Once seated, Nash broached the subject of the enormous elephant in the room. “Rylee, we know you and Ryanne once had magical abilities. It appears an organization known as the Witches’ Council bound your powers when you were younger and wiped the knowledge of magic from your minds.” Casually, he took a sip of coffee then set his mug down. “What I want to know is when you got your powers back?”
He felt more than saw Ryanne’s head whip in his direction. Not sparing her a glance, he kept his focus on her sister. “I’d also like to know how much you know about Victor Salinger’s business and how deeply you are involved in his dealings.”
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Ryanne stiffen and lean forward. Alastair remained the inscrutable statue he always appeared to be. Rylee, on the other hand, had a much more animalistic reaction. Her hands curled into claws, and she lunged across the distance.
With a quick sweep of his hand, Alastair threw up an invisible barrier designed to protect their group. Rylee crashed into it with a grunt and a few choice swear words.
“I’d say that gives you a good idea.” Alastair’s dry tone left no one in doubt of his thoughts on the matter. Nash was certain his father believed Rylee was complicit in Victor’s schemes.
Alastair waved his hand and slammed it flat on the table, causing everyone to jump. “Cohibeo.”
Nash understood the command and focused his attention on Ryanne. He could see the question forming on her lips and quickly shook his head. Taking his cue, she remained quiet and watchful. A glance showed Rylee understood her circumstances better than anyone. Fire blazed from her eyes as she squirmed in her chair and tried to break the magical hold Alastair had placed on her.
“You bastard! Let me go!”
“No.” Alastair perched on the edge of the table and straightened his tie. “I’m inclined to let you sit there like a recalcitrant child. When you are ready to cooperate, perhaps we’ll discuss your release.”
Rylee sent a beseeching look toward her twin. “Ryanne, please help me.”
Nash clasped Ryanne’s hand and interwove their fingers. The gesture seemed to ease her concern because she squeezed tightly.
“No, Rylee, I don’t think I will. Answer Nash’s original question. When did you get your power back?”
Hatred blazed from Rylee’s dark coffee-colored eyes. Nash felt the heat of her emotion, and he was left to wonder how it affected Ryanne. She had to be hurt by her sister’s defection and animosity.
Inside, Ryanne wasn’t as cool and collected as the other occupants of the room probably believed her to be. Wave after wave of dread for her sister’s imagined transgressions crashed into her. If Rylee was here as a spy for Victor, then she’d just collected two powerful enemies. Neither Nash nor Alastair would forgive the perceived slight against their family, of that, Ryanne was certain. These men didn’t strike her as the forgiving sort.
Following the dread was a profound sadness. When had her sister turned into such a devious person? Had she always been that way and Ryanne happened to miss this aspect of her sister’s personality? Where had this hatred come from? If Rylee had hated her in the past, it had been hidden well.
“Answer the question, Rylee. I won’t ask it again.”
“Fine,” Rylee spat. “Victor helped me regain my powers when I met him in New York.”
“New York?” Disbelief warred with anger, and Ryanne didn’t know whether to cry or smack her sister silly. “Rylee, that was years ago. Why did you never tell me we were witches?”
“You? Miss Goody-Two-Shoes? I was supposed to tell you that our parents were thieves and used the two of us to get magical artifacts for the Dés—” Abruptly, she stopped speaking, as if she’d said too much. “It doesn’t matter. Chris and Hazel had you wrapped up so deeply in their beliefs that you could scarcely breathe, and you didn’t seem to want to change it. If Victor hadn’t freed you, you’d still be under their influence. You’d never have met your beloved Nash Thorne.” The sneer on Rylee’s face was full of loathing, and each word she uttered dripped with acid.
Ryanne didn’t realize how hard she gripped Nash until he raised their joined hands and dropped a kiss on her knuckles. Her throat closed at his gesture. In the course of a day, her world had turned upside down. What she thought she knew about her life had all been a lie. The closeness she believed she shared with her twin was nothing but a sham. And most startling of all? The man she had crushed on from afar appeared to have deep feelings for her.
Full of bemused wonder, she stared deeply into his green eyes. The silent understanding he offered brought tears to her eyes. She blinked the sting away.
“You said Victor freed her. How did he do that?”
Alastair’s icy tone brought her up sharp. She whipped her head around to stare at Rylee.
Rylee laughed in the face of Alastair’s rage. “He has connections. Isn’t it ironic that the Joneses were always threatening fire and brimstone with each sermon, and then they themselves died in a fiery blaze?”
Ryanne’s throat ceased to work. Although she swallowed air convulsively, she couldn’t seem to get the necessary oxygen to her lungs. Jumping up, she raced for the bathroom. She managed to make it to the toilet in time to deposit the contents of her stomach in the bowl. Over and over, she retched until there was nothing left inside her. She sat back against the wall of the bathroom and took a ragged breath.
“Here, child.”
Glancing up, she saw the washcloth Alastair held out to her. With a shaky hand, she accepted the offering and wiped her mouth.
“My son has a weak stomach when it comes to vomit. He calls himself a ‘sympathetic yacker.’ Otherwise, he’d have followed you.” Amusement rested heavy in Alastair’s tone. “Trust me, you don’t want him to attend you at a time like this. You’d be cleaning two messes.”
Ryanne was surprised she could laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind for future stomach ailments.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Victor had my adoptive parents murdered, didn’t he?”
“I have no doubt.”
Hot tears escaped down her cheeks. She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. “How could she have a boyfriend as evil as him?”
“He’s not her boyfriend.”
Astonishment brought her head up.
“Victor isn’t into women. He gets his kicks in other ways. If your sister is keeping company with him, it’s for an entirely different reason.”
“But she said he didn’t mind if she strayed, and you said they were rumored to be together.”
“I was curious as to how far she’d go with her advances toward my son.” He held out his hand to help her up. “Get cleaned up and come out when you’re ready. I’ll prepare you a cup of peppermint tea to soothe your stomach.”
“You’re a kind man, Mr. Thorne.”
“No, child. Never make the mistake of believing me kind.”
“We can agree to disagree. Based on all you’ve done for me so far… well, let’s say it’s more than anyone else has done for me in the last ten years.”
“Even Nash?”
“Until today, I assumed Nash had ulterior motives for doing the little things he’s done. Lunch here or a coffee there. I firmly believed he wanted to keep me from finding another job.”
Alastair’s laugh was deep and full-bodied. “Thornes can be a selfish lot. We’ll do for each other, but because of who and what we are, we stick to ourselves. It is written that a Thorne only loves once.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The move, so similar to Nash’s, made her wonder if mannerisms were genetic or learned. “If Nash did anything nice for you at all, it was his way of showing he cares for you. I think I know him well enough to say he has been struck by Cupid’s arrow.”
Ryanne rubbed the place over her heart.
“Dare I say that you’ve been struck too?” he asked gently.
“I think it’s highly possible,” she croaked.
He nodded his understanding and turned to leave.
“Mr. Thorne?”
“Yes?”
“Will you keep this conversation to yourself? I need time to process.”
“Certainly, child. Come out when you’re ready.”