“Hello, child. I’ve been waiting for you.”
The woman standing in the center of the garden was easily the loveliest person Mackenzie had ever seen. Her long wavy hair hung to her trim waist, and as the air around them picked up speed, her blue-black locks lifted and danced with a life all their own. Her face was thin, but not painfully so, and her high sculpted cheekbones would make anyone in the modeling industry green with envy.
Mackenzie included.
“Who are you?”
Displeasure swept across the woman’s stunning face before she could smooth her features into a serene mask. “I’m Isolde de Thorne.”
Isolde.
Mackenzie recalled the earlier conversation between Sebastian and the Aether. A small shudder swept her, and she got her first sense of unease. “You’re Damian’s mother.”
“Yes.” Triumph shone in Isolde’s eyes.
Wait! De Thorne? Was the name a coincidence? Did that mean they were related? Mackenzie needed to remember to ask Damian the first chance she got. “What do you want?”
“It’s not what I want that matters. It’s what you want, and I can help you gain it. Sebastian Drake.”
Mackenzie barked a humorless laugh. Funny, but even in dreams, people underestimated her intelligence. “I wasn’t born yesterday, lady. Whatever you’re selling, I want no part of.”
“You’d be a fool to make an enemy of me, child.” Isolde narrowed her obsidian eyes, and the wind around them picked up. “I will destroy you and all those you love.”
Odd how those near-black eyes looked mysterious and sexy on Damian, yet on Isolde, they were flat. Devoid of light and humor. Dare she say demon-like?
“Meh.” Mackenzie shrugged. “I’d be a little more worried if your son was concerned, but since he’s assured me you’re out of the picture, I think I’ll end this little dream here and now.”
Isolde surprised her when she laughed. The sound was full-bodied and seductive. Even Mackenzie was drawn by it. She was disconcerted to witness Isolde’s unguarded humor.
“You have courage, child. I like that in an adversary.”
“Do we have to be enemies? Can’t you just leave me in peace, and I’ll do the same for you?”
For an instant, Mackenzie thought she detected real regret in the other woman’s gaze. But her eyes hardened, and the coldness in them would chill anyone to the bone.
“Until next time, child.”
A hand came out of the night and touched her shoulder.
A scream was ripped from her soul.
“Mack! It’s me. Sebastian.” He bent slightly to look into her eyes. Worry clouded his. “Are you all right?” At her shaky nod, he asked, “What are you doing here in the garden, love? It’s freezing out here.” He frowned as if he’d just realized the temps were ridiculously cold for the time of year.
Mackenzie rubbed the skin of her bare arms and focused her magic in an effort to ward off the bone-chilling air temperature. Although her body heated marginally, her teeth began to chatter from the fear associated with her conversation, and she wanted to wake from this god-awful nightmare.
Sebastian scooped her up, and with long, smooth strides, he ate up the distance to the terrace. His body heat began to permeate her icy skin, and she felt toastier than she had moments before.
“I’m not dreaming? We’re really in the garden?” Her unease from earlier returned.
“Yes. Mack, why are you walking the gardens in a tank top and shorts?” Worry was heavy in his voice.
“I’m not sure. I thought it wasn’t real.” She glanced back over his shoulder to the spot she’d seen Isolde. A faint red glow pulsed at the center of the garden. Her heart rate kicked up a few notches, and it wasn’t all from Sebastian’s nearness. “Um, is that a normal occurrence here?”
He turned to look.
“No.” His arms tightened. “No. It’s not.”
He wasted no time getting her inside. After depositing her on the settee in his study, he wrapped her in a throw blanket and poured her a tumbler of brandy.
From their seats on the sofa, they watched the red light fizzle out.
“Who were you talking to, Mack?” His tone was low and urgent, causing her stomach to clench.
“Isolde.”
His head whipped around, and he stared at her in horror. “You summoned her?”
“No!” She was at a loss to explain how she’d come to be outside when less than a half hour ago she was sound asleep in her four-poster bed, dreaming of him. “No, Baz. I can’t explain it. One second, I was in bed, and the next, I was in the garden, and she was trying to make me her ally.” She shrugged. “For what, I don’t know.”
“Her ally? What exactly did she say?” His intent dark gaze was hyper-focused on her, and Mackenzie felt like she’d opened a can of worms just by being here at his estate.
“She said she’d been waiting for me,” she admitted weakly.
Sebastian jumped to his feet and swore up a storm.
“I thought the English were supposed to be more reserved,” she said. “Nothing fazes you. Stiff upper lip and all that.”
“I’m only half English, and all that flies out the window when the Enchantress decides to use you for her personal agenda.”
“The Enchantress?” She had no idea what he was talking about. Since the moment she’d arrived here, it seemed everyone was talking in code, and Mackenzie couldn’t seem to break it.
“Damian’s mother was the last one.”
“I think you need to start at the beginning because I’m so lost it’s ridiculous.”
Sebastian ran his hands through his hair and huffed out a breath.
For a brief second, Mackenzie was distracted by his masculine appeal. In his haste to get to her, he’d failed to button his shirt, and it hung open, exposing all his delicious muscles. She’d never wanted to touch anyone more. “All those beautiful ridges and tempting skin.”
When she lifted her gaze to his face, he was staring at her. Wry humor curled his lip. “Do you normally blurt out whatever’s on your mind?”
“Sorry.” She bit her lip, fighting the urge to flee. She’d thoroughly embarrassed herself by revealing her innermost thoughts all willy-nilly-like. When had she last done that? When she was twelve? For the love of the Goddess! She was a thirty-five-year-old woman with plenty of experience under her belt. Yet, around him, her brain cells took a vacation. “You were saying?”
“I wasn’t saying anything. You were.” His smile transformed into a breath-stealing grin. He ran his palm over his exposed chest and abs. “You were admiring all my beautiful ridges and tempting skin.”
“The Enchantress,” she ground out. She scowled, trying to offset the blazing heat in her cheeks.
The humor dropped from his face, and he cast an uneasy glance back at the garden.
“Baz?”
“Right. The Enchantress was born in the year fourteen fifty-four. She—”
“Wait! What? How is that possible? And how can she be Damian’s mother if she’s that old?” The math didn’t compute—which was saying something for a woman with a degree in nanoscience.
“An enchantress can live hundreds of years. As can the Aether. In Isolde’s case, she was both.”
He paused for her to process the information.
“Are you fucking with me?” Mackenzie was finding it difficult to comprehend. Yes, she knew witches had a longer life span than the average bear, but close to six hundred years seemed impossible.
“No. Trust me, if I were fucking with you, you’d know. I take my fucking very seriously.” His lips twitched as if he was fighting a laugh.
Despite the seriousness of their situation, a tidal wave of lust swept over her. She wasn’t sure if they were his feelings, hers, or a combination of both. All she did know was she wanted him to get super serious about it right now. Overly warm, she shrugged off the blanket. To occupy her mouth so she didn’t regurgitate her desire to surf that particular crest all the way to the sex shack, she sipped her brandy.
He joined her on the sofa—the picture of casual sophistication as he crossed one leg over the other and rested his arm along the back of the settee. His cool elegance, paired with his amused smile, turned Mackenzie on as nothing else could. It was as if he could read her churning thoughts and knew exactly what effect he was having on her.
“The Enchantress,” she blurted in an attempt to focus on the subject at hand.
“Right.” All teasing left him. “By all accounts, she was a horrid woman. Her main goal in life was to amass power, not caring who she hurt or killed to get it. Isis gathered the strongest family members of the Six to stop her reign of terror.”
“The Six?” Mackenzie was irritated with herself for not paying more attention to the history of the witch community. She’d been content with her science books, choosing to ignore everything else. Now, she felt like she was out of the loop and didn’t care for the experience at all. Her cousin Spring would’ve known and been able to drone on for hours about all this crap.
“The Six were the founding families: the Thornes, Dethridges, Champeaus, O’Malleys, Carlyles, and my family, the Drakes. Yours has always been the strongest, with the exception of Damian. It’s why few want to incur Alastair’s wrath.” He removed the forgotten tumbler from her fingers, sipped her brandy, and held the glass to her lips. After she swallowed a little, he lowered his hand and continued his explanation. “Just shy of two hundred years ago, Isis crossed from the Otherworld with some of the deceased members from all those lines. Her intent was to have them join with their descendants to neutralize Isolde’s power and stop her from hurting anyone else.”
“Apparently, they succeeded. The Aether said she was ‘contained,’ so it would indicate she is no longer a danger.”
“Yes. She was entombed in a magical box.”
But was she?
Mackenzie looked out the window toward the center of the garden. “How was Isolde able to get to me tonight?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out. I’ll call Damian in the morning and see if he has any insight.”
“You’re going to willingly call Damian?” she taunted. “Will wonders never cease?”
Sebastian dropped his gaze from hers, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “I owe you a more in-depth explanation than the one I offered earlier tonight. Damian Dethridge is my trigger.”
Mackenzie no longer felt like teasing him. It hurt her to think Sebastian was pining for Vivian after all this time. Needing more to drink for this particular conversation, she retrieved the tumbler from Baz and concentrated on the smidgeon of brandy left at the bottom, visualizing it tripling.
After taking a fortifying gulp, she fanned her eyes to stop them from tearing due to the alcohol’s burning trail down to her stomach. She blew out a breath and faced him. The sardonic smile he sported tempted her to kiss the hell out of him, if only to see if he was experiencing the same emotions and feelings as she.
“Okay, shoot. Tell me all the gritty details of your hate-hate relationship with Damian.”
“Hate-hate relationship?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Well, for sure there is no love lost.”
His lips twisted into something resembling a grimace. “Vivian and I knew each other growing up. Her family and mine have been intertwined throughout time. Our parents wanted to arrange a match, and neither of us was opposed, because the attraction was there.”
He stared off into space as if trying to recall the past. A small frown marred his forehead, and Mackenzie suppressed the urge to smooth it.
“I loved her.”
The bottom of her stomach fell out. “And now?”
“I suppose I’ll always hold affection for her because of our shared memories, but no. She transferred her love to Damian so quickly, I was left wondering if what we had was ever real.” Sebastian met her inquiring gaze head-on. “I won’t lie and say it didn’t cut me to the core, but it was a long time ago. I think the residual anger is the lack of closure.”
“She never apologized?” she asked, shocked anyone could throw him over. From everything she’d seen, he was attentive and caring with his family, a pillar of the witches community, and did everything in his power to walk the proper path. Add to that his killer body, and Mackenzie had to wonder what was not to love about him.
“She tried. I wasn’t in a place to hear her excuses. I was too devastated.” He snorted and took the glass from her hand. After a long swallow, he said, “Looking back, I believe it was mostly ego on my part. I had it all, didn’t I? Looks, money, a sparkling wit.” He rolled his eyes at his own arrogance. “Vivian was right to leave me, Mack. I was an arrogant prat. And an assuming one at that. She didn’t deserve my cockiness or the assumption I was the Goddess’s gift to all women.”
“You cheated on her?”
“No! Never. I merely strutted about, acting as if I were the best thing since sliced bread. I’m sure, for her, the act got old.” He smiled slightly. “I believe you called me out on it a time or two.”
“But it’s all an act, isn’t it?” Mackenzie said knowingly. “To hide the caring man inside. The question is, why?”
“I’m not sure. I suppose if I reflected on it more, I could figure it out, but the simple answer is most likely I don’t care to be hurt again.”
“It’s hard to reconcile who you describe with the man sitting next to me.” She smoothed back a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “You are kind, Baz. I see it in the way you treat everyone around you. Perhaps it’s why I called you out on your ‘act.’ I sensed it wasn’t the real you. The you I like.”
He captured her hand and kissed her fingertips. “Thank you.”
“But why do you hate Damian so much if you understand why Vivian defected?”
“Habit, I suppose. He was everything I wasn’t. Suave, intelligent, powerful, and he has the ability to seduce with a look.”
She smiled. “You want to seduce with a look?”
Sebastian shot her a smoldering glance. “It would be helpful.”
“Mm.” Mackenzie took the glass from his fingers and sipped. “You can totally seduce with a look.”
He laughed and kissed her cheek. “You’re adorable, Mack.”
“So I’m told. But you should set aside the animosity for Damian, Baz. You’re a better man than that, and you have all the things you envy about him. You’re highly intelligent. You’re a powerful warlock. As for suave, you may be a little rougher around the edges than he is, but it’s nice and a whole lotta sexy. It makes a woman feel protected.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“This little counseling session. You’ve made me see I’m holding on to emotions I should’ve let go of a long time ago. Perhaps it’s time to call Vivian and apologize.”
A small swirl of jealousy danced about inside Mackenzie’s mind. “Perhaps it isn’t a bad idea if you wish to move forward.”
Sebastian narrowed his eyes as he watched her. “You hate the idea?”
“No. Not at all. I was wondering if it would drag up old feelings to talk to her, is all.”
“Maybe I should let sleeping dogs lie?” he teased as he ran a finger along her upper lip.
She bit him. “That’s on you either way. Just don’t poke the bear in the cage.” She leaned closer until their lips were mere inches apart. “The bear is the Aether, in case you were clueless. He’s got a powerful love for his wife.”
Sebastian closed the distance between them. His lips just shy of brushing hers. “To make it perfectly clear, I’m no longer interested in Vivian, Mack.”
“Good to know,” she whispered.
She kissed him. Tentative at first then with more aggression as she felt his arms come around her and tug her to his chest. Desire exploded inside her, and she wanted to climb onto his lap, humping him until his eyes rolled back in his head and he lost all control.
But the timing was off. She had yet to receive a vision of where a relationship with Sebastian would lead, and a quick tumble between the sheets wasn’t her style. She wouldn’t place her money on a risky bet. Not at this early stage.
With a great deal of regret, Mackenzie pulled back and took a sip of her drink. If her hand shook a little and sloshed the liquid inside the glass, it was understandable. There was a lot of passion at play between them. Unfulfilled passion that would keep her awake the remainder of the night.
She took a deep breath to cool her ardor and recalled why they were sitting here to begin with. “Back to the Enchantress. What do you think is happening?” She couldn’t keep her nervous tremble from her voice. “Do you think Isolde wants to drain my powers?” She jumped up and hugged herself against the cold trying to invade her soul as the hint of a premonition swept her. “That had to be what Sabrina was trying to warn me about. She said the Darkness wanted me, too. What I thought was a little girl’s imagination might be a prediction.”
Sebastian got to his feet and crossed to where she stood, staring out into the night. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he squeezed gently. “It would make sense if she’s a seer. Most Aethers are to a degree. We should probably call Damian right now.”
Mackenzie looked at the grandfather clock. “Baz, it’s three in the morning, and as big a crisis as this feels to me, I’m a little leery of waking the Aether—a man I don’t know well—in the middle of the night.”
“Mack, if this pertains to Isolde, he should know. If there’s even a remote possibility she’s been resurrected—or is about to be—we can’t wait on this.” As he picked his phone up to make the call, it rang. He frowned down at the screen and turned it to face her.
Alastair Thorne.
She gave him the universal “What are you waiting for? Answer it!” sign by rolling her hand. Leaning forward, she prepared herself for bad news.
“Drake, I know Mackenzie’s staying with you. Is she within hearing distance?” Alastair sounded grim, and it didn’t bode well.
She met Sebastian’s concerned gaze. She had the foolish desire to inch closer to his large body and have him ward off any impending disaster on her behalf. “I’m here, cousin.”
“Good.” A heavy sigh sounded on his end. However, it couldn’t be good if he was stalling.
“What is it, Alastair?” Sebastian’s tone was brisk. “We’re already dealing with one crisis here.”
“Let me guess. The lovely Mackenzie is having visions of the Enchantress.” There was no question in Alastair’s tone. He acted as if it was a foregone conclusion.
She took the phone from Sebastian. “How the hell did you know that?”
“Sabrina Dethridge just woke Damian in a panic. She is insistent the Enchantress is about to possess you.”
Sebastian’s eyes flared wide in disbelief. “Bloody hell!”
“I don’t understand. How can she possess an unwilling vessel? Should we summon Isis?” Mackenzie asked.
“I’ll see to it.” Alastair sighed again. “In the meantime, you should leave the Drake estate. Come here, where we can watch out for you.”
“She’ll stay here.”
Mackenzie shot Sebastian a surprised look. “It’s too dangerous for your family if she intends to target me, Baz.”
“We can hold our own, and I’m not sending you away until we know for sure what this is and how to combat it.”
Before she could protest, Alastair’s smug voice came across the line. “Excellent. I’m thrilled you’re willing to help, Drake. Keep her close, won’t you, son?”
An amused smile twisted Sebastian’s lips at the same time Mackenzie rolled her eyes.
“Could you be any more obvious, cousin? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you called so you could play matchmaker.” She jerked when Sebastian wrapped an arm around her waist. “What are you doing?” she squeaked, jumping sideways.
“Keeping you close.”
Alastair’s deep chuckle came across the line. “We’ll be in touch in the morning. Try to get some rest.”
“Oh, no you don’t—! He hung up on me!” Mackenzie tossed the phone on the settee in disgust and glared around the room. As surely as she drew a breath in her lungs, her wily cousin was scrying even now. “Alastair is never satisfied unless he’s meddling in someone else’s life. Jerk.”
Sebastian rested against his desk, hands gripping the wooden edge and ankles crossed. His white shirt hung open, and half-curled forward as he was, his abdominal muscles were on full display. The man didn’t have an ounce of fat covering that mouth-watering stomach, and Mackenzie was hard-pressed not to drool. As it was, she found her concentration wandering at inappropriate times.
When she saw his contemplative expression, her nerves got the better of her. “What?”
“I didn’t say anything.” He grinned. “But I find myself unopposed to Alastair’s games this time around.” Sebastian pushed off the desk and stalked to where she stood, gaping, by the sofa. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
Her jaw dropped even more.
He tapped it closed with a chuckle. “To your bed. Alone. I need to remain awake and enforce the wards on our home.”
She finally found her wits enough to ask, “What about Isolde and Damian?”
“I’ll call him as soon as I’m confident the estate is secure. Don’t worry, Mack. We’ll get this sorted.”
Her mind careened from one worrisome thought to the next on the long walk to her room. Sebastian remained quiet by her side, and Mackenzie assumed he was locked in his own private hell. For sure, calling Damian would eat at him, but what choice did they have?
After they reached her suite, he opened the door and gave the room a cursory glance. Turning to her, he smiled. “All safe and sound.”
Whenever he flashed those pearly whites in a genuine grin, Mackenzie wanted nothing more than to jump his bones. To feel skin on skin and melt into him until she didn’t know where her body ended and his began.
“If you keep looking at me that way, love, I’m going to say the hell with it and tumble you into bed.” His voice dropped, low and raspy, as his eyes took on a hot gleam.
Mackenzie bit back a sigh. Even if she was being cautious, a woman could dream, couldn’t she? “Sorry. I—”
He didn’t wait for her to finish. Sebastian swooped in for the kiss Mackenzie had been fantasizing about since the moment she saw him. It put their kiss in his study to shame.
Her knees went weak, and if it hadn’t been for his steely arms wrapped around her waist, she’d have been a puddle on the floor. Her low moan seemed to echo in the corridor, but she didn’t care if anyone heard it or not. Doubtless they’d heard a lot more from the ghosts haunting these old halls.
Sebastian slowly eased back, looking as shell-shocked as she felt.
She released a girly sigh. “Dude.”
His sputtering laughter triggered her giggle.
With an engaging grin and an unholy gleam in his mocha eyes, he traced her jawline.
“Good night, Mack. Sleep well.”