Dinner was a major strain on Mackenzie’s nerves. It seemed everyone was putting on an act of forced cheer, and she absolutely hated it. Part of her wanted to call them out on their weird behavior, but she understood they were trying to make everything as normal as possible. Trying to watch every word to avoid a slip of the tongue that could reveal what they’d discussed when she was banished from their earlier meeting.
She sipped her wine, appetite gone.
“Are you all right, child?”
Mackenzie glanced to her right and noted Alastair’s watchful expression. She shrugged and took another sip.
“Mackenzie.”
The deep understanding and affection he felt for her were packed into that one name. A sob caught in the back of her throat, and she had to question why she’d felt like crying more in the last week than she ever had in her entire life combined. “I’m fine, cousin,” she choked out.
“No, you’re not.”
The sound of his chair scooting back forced her eyes open. As she watched, he tossed down his napkin and strode to her side of the table. “Come.”
The rest of the room’s occupants grew silent, and she cast a quick glance around her. Goddess, she hated being the center of attention. Wasn’t it odd how much she, one of the world’s most popular supermodels, hated to be in the spotlight?
Slowly, she set aside her wine and removed the garnet-colored napkin from her lap. “It’s okay, Alastair. You don’t need to—”
He cut her off by clasping her hand. “Your stubbornness is one of the things I admire most about you, child. But not right at this moment. Come.”
He led her out the double doors to the stone terrace. With a simple wave of his hand, the lanterns around them lit, illuminating the beautiful gardens around them and creating an inviting space. They crossed the expanse of the patio and descended the many steps leading to the grass.
“What are we doing, cousin? If you wanted to talk to me, there was no reason you couldn’t have in the dining room.”
“I don’t want to talk. I’m here to listen, should you wish to, and to show you how to recharge your batteries, so to speak.”
“I already practice meditation,” she argued.
Stopping short, he faced her. One of his dark-blond brows lifted nearly to his hairline. “Are you determined to resist the entire time?”
His arrogance made her laugh. It always had. “No, I suppose not. Lead on.”
His unsmiling mouth twitched, as if he too wanted to laugh. He lingered another moment, brow still firmly in place in that arched, haughty way of his.
Mack laughed a second time and linked her arm through his.
Scenes of the past crowded her mind, and she gasped at the ones that took place yards from where she stood.
The first was of Isolde using her magic to scribble a note. “Deliver yourself to Alastair Thorne,” she’d said. The next was of the Enchantress hugging a small black-haired boy. She’d made him promise to hide and not come out for anyone but Alastair. The last was of Isolde in the garden. A malicious grin flitted across her face as she spun to face the small group of witches gathered to confront her. All her attention was focused on the blond man who stood front and center, prepared to do battle.
“Alastair Thorne?” Isolde asked curiously.
He shot a quick look at the older warlock next to him. “Nathanial Thorne.”
“You’ll not set your sights on my son,” the auburn-haired man beside him snapped.
She laughed, and the wicked sound echoed off the trees, lending a macabre air to the scene.
The witches present shared uneasy glances and shifted closer to one another.
Gliding forward, one hip-swaying step at a time, Isolde kept her gaze locked on Nathanial Thorne. “You’re incredible. All fierce and proud. Your magic…” She closed her eyes and inhaled. “Your magic is divine.” Her eyes snapped open. “Come to me, Nathanial,” she ordered. “I want to taste you, lover.”
“Shit!” Nathanial shook his head and jerked backward, his fingertips pressed to one brow. “Evie.”
Isolde closed her eyes and smiled. The smugness of her expression plain for everyone to see. “She’s lovely. I’ve never seen anyone with her hair color before. So silver as to be white,” she said, taking another step toward him and lifting her hand to beckon him forward. “If you join me now, I shall spare her life.”
He turned gray, but he stood his ground.
The boy appeared from a rift in the fabric of space between his mother and Nathanial. He rushed toward the man, stopping short of touching him.
Nathanial’s father conjured a flaming ball of energy and aimed for the boy.
“Noooooo!” Isolde screamed. Her body jerked, and she started forward, but halted when Nathanial caught his father’s arm.
“We don’t make war on children, Father. You taught me that.”
“He’s her son, Nate. He’ll grow to be evil like her. Did you forget what she did to your brother Jonah?”
Nathanial’s cold-eyed stare collided with his father’s. “He’s a boy, now under my protection. You’ll not harm him.”
“Mackenzie! Snap out of it!” Rough hands shook her. “Mackenzie, right now!”
The past disappeared in the blink of an eye.
Alastair’s expression was fierce, as if he were prepared to fight all the demons in hell to bring her back to the present.
She raised a trembling hand to her forehead and nodded. “I’m good. I’m here.”
“What the hell happened?” He still hadn’t let her go, and she was grateful for the support since her knees felt as shaky as the rest of her.
“I don’t know. Once I touched your arm, it was like I was teleported back to the confrontation between Isolde and Nathanial.”
“Nathanial?”
His sharp tone brought her head up.
“Yes.” She rubbed her arms against the chill of her vision and the cool night air. Closing her eyes, she envisioned heat forming and spreading to each of her cells.
“Better?” Alastair asked.
“Yes.” Inhaling a deep, calming breath, she met his probing gaze. “There’s a connection. To you, I think. Why did she deliver the letter to you? You weren’t born for another hundred and twenty-five years or more, right?”
“I think, like you, she had psychic visions. It may well be why you both are linked together.” He straightened the cuffs of his dinner jacket, the dark look never leaving his face. Mackenzie had come to realize this was his deep-in-thought expression, as she liked to call it. For most people, it was off-putting. However, she understood he was working through a problem.
“Why do you suppose the replay of that incident came to me now, Alastair?” she asked softly. Falling into step beside him, she tried to reason the importance of the past she’d just witnessed. “They weren’t her memories. Nor were they Nathanial’s. It was as if I saw everything from an outside perspective.”
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
She halted and plucked at his sleeve, careful to release him as quickly as she’d touched him. “If Isolde was in my head and those visions came to me, I’d have her thoughts and feelings to lend them more detail.” She frowned down at her feet, trying to find the right words to explain. “This was as if I were watching a movie. I didn’t know all the players, but she would’ve.”
“Ah. So you believe someone else—say Isis or Set—fed you that vision when you touched me.”
“Exactly.”
He nodded slowly, his expression turning thoughtful. “Obviously, if either of them is providing you information, there’s an importance related to it. Something took place that you can use.”
“That’s how I see it, too.” She liked she wasn’t alone in her thinking. It helped her to believe Alastair understood there was something deeper at play here.
“Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the place I was originally going to show you.”
With a small shake of her head, she allowed him to lead her. A short while later, they arrived at a small stream.
“What’s this?”
He only smiled and bent to remove his shoes and socks.
She followed suit, kicking off her heels and rolling up the flowing material of her pants legs.
With a hand on her elbow to support her, he guided her up onto a small boulder overhanging the stream. The snap of his fingers next to her sounded loud. She didn’t have a chance to comment before the night sky around them was lit with hundreds of fireflies. It lent a wondrous glow to the water, and as the fireflies danced and played, the surface of the stream caught their light and made this hidden paradise magical.
“I love it.” Truly, she was awed by the beauty. “When I think you can’t surprise me, you do.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said with a deep chuckle.
“Alastair?”
“Yes, child?”
“Thank you.”
As he turned his head, the wind picked up and a lock of his hair fell over one brow. Mackenzie could see the young, dashing man he’d once been. Long before the wars, long before responsibility, Alastair Thorne would’ve been a charming rogue, collecting hearts as he made his way through life.
Their gazes locked. In his, she saw deep affection.
“For what?” he asked.
She shrugged, leaned sideways, and put her head on his rounded shoulder. “For always being there for me. For always making sure I was provided for and encouraging me to chase my dreams. You’re the father I never had, and I love you.”
He rested his cheek against the top of her head. His voice was gruff when he replied, “You’re welcome, Mack. I couldn’t be prouder of you if you were my own daughter.” He wrapped his arm around her and gently squeezed. “I love you, too, dear girl. And I’ll be here to see you through this.”
“I’m scared. For Baz. For you and the others.”
He remained quiet for a long time in the wake of her confession. “I think you and Sebastian Drake are the perfect match.”
Mackenzie snorted and raised her head. “That’s what you say when I tell you I’m afraid?”
His chuckle triggered her smile. Remaining serious in the face of Alastair’s wry humor was impossible.
“You, Mackenzie Ann Thorne, are a woman to be feared. You’re not the one who should ever be afraid.”
“How do you figure?”
“You’re highly intelligent, you are quick on your feet, and you have the ability to charm the stars from the sky. You’re also a force to be reckoned with when you’re protecting your own.” He made a scooping gesture with his hand, and the water crested, rising up to fill his palm. With a flick of his wrist, he splashed her.
She shrieked when the cold water hit her face.
Alastair teleported a safe distance away and scooped up his shoes. “I look forward to your devious revenge.”
The air crackled, and he was gone.
Mackenzie laughed and kicked her feet in the water. The fireflies dipped low and surfed the breeze she created, circling around her.
Sebastian stood in the shadows of the trees and watched his wife play. When she threw back her head and her lovely laughter rang out, her enchantment over him was complete. To him, she was a faerie princess in the mortal world. Mackenzie Thorne’s magic was her beautiful spirit. The rest was just packaging. He couldn’t deny he appreciated the hell out of her body, but her soul was pure. Her love for those around her was fierce. She was everything he could ever want.
The only thing hanging over their heads was Isolde.
But for tonight, he didn’t intend to let her win.
Sebastian closed the distance between Mackenzie and him. “Can anyone join, or is this a party for one?”
She grinned and held out a hand. “I wondered when you’d show up. I was worried I’d have to send you an engraved invitation or something.”
“I’m never far behind you, love.” He crowded next to her and placed an arm around her shoulders.
When she turned her face up to his, her eyes held the promise of a love so great, it made his heart stall and his lungs seize. Any words would’ve been wasted at this moment. The driving desire inside him was to kiss her. Touch her. Worship her body in every way. He lowered his head, and she shifted to meet him halfway.