As Sebastian watched in stunned disbelief, Mackenzie ran for the door. It only took a quick shove from Arabella to get him moving, but he was too late to catch Mackenzie or prevent her from sliding behind the wheel of the Land Rover.
The locks clicked as he reached for the door handle.
“Mack!”
She swiped angrily at the wetness on her cheeks and shook her head. The vehicle roared to life, and Sebastian experienced a rare sense of helplessness as he watched the distance grow between him and the taillights. The Land Rover screeched to a halt at the end of the drive, kicking up gravel in its wake.
Sebastian teleported and arrived in time to see Mackenzie kicking the tires and raging aloud in her frustration. Some of her words were new to him, and he was awed by her expansive vocabulary. She put hardened sailors to shame with her language.
He waited, resting one hip on the bumper, until she ran out of steam.
When she faced him, the color on her cheeks rivaled her fiery red hair. The blue of her eyes was a murky gray and indicative of her distress. Most witches couldn’t hide their emotions one-hundred percent. The changing of their irises from bright to dull always gave them away. Mackenzie’s eyes were no exception.
“I won’t let her win!” she hollered to the sky. “I can’t.”
His heart ached to hear the pain in her words. The hoarseness of her cry spoke of her tortured thoughts.
“Mack.”
She refused to look at him, instead staring off into the distance.
Uncrossing his arms, he pushed away from the Land Rover and stopped shy of touching her. “Mackenzie.”
Her head turned, but her gaze was focused somewhere around his knees.
“I need you to look at me, love. To hear what I’m about to tell you.”
“I can hear you without looking at you,” she muttered.
He bit back a smile. “Feisty to the end, aren’t you?”
That caught her attention. “You don’t understand, Baz. The second I let my guard down, she wins. How can I be here when it could mean possession or worse?”
A frown drew his brows down, and he lifted her chin with the tip of one knuckle. Possession? Alastair Thorne had mentioned something about Sabrina and her worry regarding Isolde possessing Mackenzie, but Sebastian had forgotten about it in all the excitement. He hadn’t gotten that far in wrapping his mind around this mess. His main goal was keeping the Enchantress entombed.
“And what constitutes worse, Mack?”
“Your death.”
The air whooshed from his lungs, and he couldn’t speak to ask anything else. Hell, he couldn’t think to ask anything else either.
“She’s putting thoughts in my head, Sebastian,” she said achingly.
“When I held you a short bit ago? That’s why you reacted badly and pulled away?”
She nodded.
“All right.” He led her to a nearby stone bench. “Tell me everything.”
“When you said, ‘you’re killing me, love,’ she was in my head. She said, ‘not yet.’” Mackenzie’s lower lip trembled, and she traced the wound on her palm. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” He placed a hand on her knee and squeezed slightly. He wasn’t quite sure how to get his point across, but he had to try. “I know you, Mack. You’ll outsmart her.”
“I’m scared.”
“Me, too. But I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid for you.”
“Last night…” She frowned and looked around.
“Last night,” he encouraged.
“Was it only last night we decided to get married? Already it feels like forever ago.”
“Thanks?”
She cracked a small smile. “I don’t mean it like that, and you know it. I feel like a long time has passed since the ceremony.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”
Her smile dropped, and Mackenzie cleared her throat. “Last night when you asked me about my vision, what I didn’t tell you was I saw myself kneeling over you with an athamé in my hand. It wasn’t one I’d ever seen, and I don’t know where it came from. I felt her desire to kill you, Baz, and it terrified me. There were two faces of me, and a while ago, it became clear one was Isolde.”
“The possession.” Yes, it made sense. If the Enchantress couldn’t get out of her prison, she’d likely try another route to kill her gaolers. “Because of the vision, you now fear what she can make you do.”
“Yes.”
“Have you seen my actual death, Mack?”
She seemed to look through him for a moment before she shook her head. “No.”
Relief made him weak, but he forged on. “Good. Then we have nothing to worry about.”
“I couldn’t leave the estate.”
“What happened when you tried? Obviously no invisible wall, or the Rover would’ve been destroyed at the rate you were traveling,” he said dryly.
“Yeah, well…” A light blush tinged her cheeks. “I felt a burning. It started in my chest and expanded out. A thousand times worse than cells ramping up for magic. This was like a nuclear meltdown, and the closer I got to the end of the driveway, the worse it became until I almost blacked out.” She stared in bemused wonder at the entry gates. “I had to stop, or I’d have crashed.”
“We’ll have to find a work-around. Come back to the house.”
They rose together and clasped hands. He led her to the passenger side of the vehicle and secured her inside. After climbing behind the wheel, he gave the gates a considering look. “You’d feel the burning, but if I’m driving, you couldn’t faint at the wheel.”
Shifting slightly in his seat, he sought her reaction.
Mackenzie’s gaze was packed full of worry. “The pain was almost unbearable, Baz. What happens if I pass out and you continue driving, but when I wake, I can’t make the burning go away because we are too far from the property?”
“Well, if you’re going to be all logical about it,” he muttered, throwing the Land Rover into reverse to turn back.
Mackenzie picked up her phone for what seemed like the hundredth time and put it back down. Calling in reinforcements when she might end up getting them hurt in the long run didn’t sit well with her.
“Would it be better if I called him?” Sebastian’s voice startled her, and she let out a small meep of surprise. He pressed his lips together, but he couldn’t hide his desire to smile.
“I’m going to put a bell on you.” This house was totally creeping her out at this point. Everything was making her jumpy as fuck. “And how do you know who I’m thinking of calling?”
“The logical answer is Alastair.”
Okay, she had to give him that one. “I don’t want to bring anyone else into this, but I’m worried we’ll need more help. You and Arabella might be no match for Isolde when she takes over.”
His thick brows met in the middle as he stepped farther into the room. “Call him if it makes you feel better. I’m not prideful or ignorant enough to believe we won’t need assistance. Also, we need to find out what he may have discovered from Isis.”
Her shoulders sagged with her relief. Part of her fear had been offending Sebastian. She dialed her cousin and didn’t have long to wait for him to answer.
“Thorne.”
“Alastair? It’s Mack.”
“Mackenzie. How are you holding up, child?” His tone was kind and caring, making her want to seek the shelter of his embrace as she had when she was a kid.
He’d come along after her father took off for parts unknown, and he’d made sure she had a home. Alastair had done a fantastic job of raising her until she decided to head out on her own at eighteen. After that, once a week, he’d arrive in New York to check on her and to take her out to dinner. They’d spent hours conversing over wine and pasta. Catching up on the family, her job, and Rorie’s condition at the time.
“To be honest, I’m frightened, Alastair. Seems I can’t leave the estate without frying my insides.”
“I think you’d better tell me from the beginning. One moment.”
Mackenzie could hear him in the background, although his words were hard to distinguish. Finally, he spoke to her again.
“I’ll be there within the hour. You can explain it all then.”
“Thank you, cousin.”
“You can thank me by having a tumbler of scotch ready for my consumption.” A muffled female voice on his end could be heard putting in her two cents. Alastair sighed, and his irritability came through loud and clear. “And tea. My beloved requires tea, because apparently she is coming with me.”
Mackenzie laughed at how put out he sounded. “Tell Rorie we’ll take care of her when she gets here.”
She signed off and updated Sebastian.
He nodded, and some of the tension around his eyes eased. “I’ll admit, I feel a lot better knowing he’s coming here. You’d better text him a photo of the terrace so he can teleport freely without worrying about where he lands.”
She did as he suggested and snapped pictures of the terrace outside the main salon. After she forwarded them to Alastair, she crossed to where Sebastian stood, noting how tired he seemed and how strained his expression appeared to be.
“Are you okay, Baz? I know this is wearing on all of us, but it must be especially hard on you.”
“I can’t deny I’m worried about the consequences of Isolde escaping. The fact that she’s awake, biding her time until she can wreak havoc on the rest of us, is terrifying to say the least.”
Mackenzie dropped her gaze from Sebastian’s unnervingly perceptive stare as she thought over her options. Damian’s words came back to her. “If you had a choice, would you take your life to save the others?” She wondered if it would come to that or if it was now too late.
“What are you thinking, Mack? Based on your green expression, it can’t be good.”
Turning away, she rubbed her upper arms. “Nothing, really.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t lie to me.”
His tone was harsh, and beneath the anger, Mackenzie detected no small amount of fear.
She spun back and placed a hand on his chest, prepared to reassure him, only the psychic attack struck with such force, she cried out and dropped to her knees.
“Mack!”
Sebastian dropped down beside her and gripped her shoulders as she clutched her head, rocking front and back.
“Mack, love, tell me you’re okay. What’s happening?”
Isolde’s eyes snapped open. The first thing she saw was the handsome dark-haired warlock in front of her. Worry clouded his ashen face, and he looked ready to lay down his life for the woman she inhabited.
She smiled and lifted her hand to trail a finger along his lips. “Hello, lover.”
He recoiled, jerking back so fast, his kilt caught on his boot and caused him to careen sideways. He barely managed to steady himself, but he didn’t try to touch her again.
“Mack?”
“Mack?” She grinned. “No. Your Mack can’t come out to socialize at the moment, but I’m at your disposal should you care to entertain me.”
Before she could fully appreciate his horror, she was thrown back into her tomb. As her energy waned, she closed her eyes and savored the look on his face. Soon she would be strong enough to maintain hold of the body she’d possessed.
Sebastian backed as far away from Mackenzie as he could get without actually leaving the room. Without a doubt, whoever was using her body as a puppet wasn’t his wife. The cold, calculating look was at complete odds with her normally friendly, open expression.
Surprise crossed her features, and she grabbed her head, releasing a low moan. “Get out of my head, you fucking bitch!”
Her arms dropped to her sides as she sat back against the table leg closest to her. Sweat beaded her brow, and her lips had gone pale. The look in her eyes had changed from cunning to terrified, and still, Sebastian was hesitant to move closer.
“Mack?” His voice came out rough and maybe a little ragged. He felt as stunned as she appeared.
“Yes, Baz.” Moisture welled in her large blue-gray eyes and slowly spilled over to trail down her cheeks. “I’m frightened,” she whispered.
So was he, but he couldn’t leave her emotionally broken on the floor. He forced one foot in front of the other until he reached her. He squatted on the floor beside her and, with one trembling hand, caressed her cheek. “It’s okay, love. You’re okay.”
They reached for each other at the same time, and he drew her into his lap. He didn’t know how long they sat like that before the door cracked open and Leopold rolled in a tea service. From their place on the rug, Sebastian had a clear view of his butler’s socks.
“My favorite animal is definitely the beaver.”
He choked on his own saliva, coughing until his lungs ached. When Mackenzie gave him a concerned look, he covertly gestured to the writing on the socks. Her gasp turned into a giggle and then to full-bodied laughter.
Leopold’s brow rose haughtily, but the twitching at the corner of his mouth gave him away. Either old Leo had a facial tick, or he was trying not to join in with their merriment. Again, the question of his age flitted through Sebastian’s mind.
“If that will be all, m’lord?”
He cleared his throat and tried to regain some small semblance of decorum. “Alastair Thorne will be joining us within the hour, Leopold. Will you make sure we have a bottle of Glenfiddich on hand for our guest?”
“Of course, sir. And for Master Damian?”
Both Sebastian and Mackenzie whipped their heads around to stare at the man leaning his shoulder against the doorjamb leading to the terrace.
“I’m fine with whatever everyone else is having. Thank you, Leopold,” Damian said with a smirk.
“Very good, sir.”