The next morning, the four of them broke their fast in a civilized fashion. Or mostly. GiGi sat, pale and silent, toying with her eggs and sausage. Ryker brooded over a cup of black coffee, his face a sickly shade of green whenever his eyes caught sight of the mashed up food on his wife’s plate. Only Aurora and Alastair maintained any type of conversation.
“I’m going after Victor.”
Ryker’s proclamation was met with a gasp and clatter of GiGi’s fork.
Alastair glanced at Aurora. Her grim expression told him plenty. They’d discussed this the night before, both agreeing Ryker would do something out of character. It seemed confronting Victor was that act of recklessness.
“You’ll do no such thing,” GiGi stated firmly.
“Who is going to stop me?” Ryker was surly and looking for a fight. Seemed his wife had stepped right into his verbal trap.
“I will if I have to,” she said, lifting her head in a defiant manner.
When Aurora opened her mouth to comment, Alastair placed a hand on her knee.
“Why the hell does it matter to you anyway?” Ryker demanded.
GiGi stared at him mutely.
Ryker sneered into his coffee. “Right. It doesn’t.”
“Please don’t do this, Ryker.”
Shoving away from the table, he stalked out, not giving GiGi’s final plea any acknowledgment.
When GiGi jumped up, Aurora grabbed her arm. “Let him go.”
“He’ll get himself killed,” she argued.
“And why should that matter to you, sister?” Alastair asked the same question as her husband, hoping she’d reexamine her feelings before it was too late. “If you love him, you’d better tell him now while you have the chance.”
She let out a frustrated growl and rushed from the room.
“And then there were two,” he murmured.
“Pushing her won’t work. We should give my plan a chance.” Aurora picked up her piece of toast, examined the top, and casually bit into it. “I forgot how much I love good old-fashioned toast and jam.”
He pushed the plate of toast and a small glass bowl of strawberry preserves her way. “Here. Eat up.”
“I’m not going to take your food, darling.”
“Alfred will always make more.” He toyed with the spoon next to his coffee cup. “Rorie…”
She glanced up, toast halfway to her mouth. With one last look of regret at her breakfast, she placed the slice on her plate and sighed. “You’ve made up your mind to go after Victor. No amount of arguing on my side will change it.”
“I have to.”
“You don’t, but I can see why you’d feel that way. You have some made-up quest in your mind, and you feel you have to see it through.”
“Please understand.”
“I do. I’m less than thrilled about it, but I do.” She rose and walked to where he sat. Threading one hand through his hair, she tipped his head back. “You’d better come back to me, Alastair Thorne. If you brought me back only for me to live the rest of my life without you, I’m going to be irate.”
He grinned and drew her flush against him. “Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.”
“I knew it.” Joy filled up the empty parts of his soul.
She laughed and lowered her mouth to his. Her kiss drugged his mind and made him forget everything but her. Only she had the power to scramble his thoughts. Good thing he never let her suspect as much.
He ran his hands up her sides and cupped her breasts. She moaned into his mouth. With the utmost reluctance, he eased her away. “When I get back, you and I are going on a long-overdue vacation. Just the two of us. No family, no drama. Just you and me, naked on a beach somewhere isolated.”
“When you get back, I’m going to make love to you in such a way as to make you lose your mind.”
When she said things like that, he almost did lose his mind. “Why wait? I can make more time before I go.”
“No, you need to go make plans with Ryker. But make sure his head is on straight before you rush into trouble. If one of you is injured or killed because he’s not one-hundred percent…” She trailed off, her expression worried.
“All will be well, my love.”
“That is eerily similar to what you said when you left me to go after Zhu Lin. Only then, I didn’t know what you had planned.”
He rose and hugged her, resting his chin on her head. “Promise me you won’t come charging after me this time. You know where I’m going and what’s at stake. Stay here, where I know you are safe.”
“I will.”
He pulled back and met her gaze with a steady look.
“Fine,” she muttered. “I promise.”
Alastair crushed her to his chest again. “Thank you for having faith that I will bring your brother home, Rorie.”
She traced the loop on the Ankh amulet resting against his skin. “I don’t think there is anything you can’t do once you set your mind to it, darling. I suspect it’s why Isis placed her trust in you to wield your magic for the betterment of others.”
“Perhaps.”
As he held her, Alastair felt a sense of dread, uncomfortable and unfamiliar to anything he’d experienced in the past. Was this an early warning for what was to happen, or was it an echo of what had?
“Wait for me.”
Her head whipped up to stare.
“If I disappear like the last time, don’t presume I’m dead. Wait for me. I’ll find a way back to you no matter what it takes.”
A simple text to Preston and to Ryker had the men assembled in the study. Preston strolled around with interest, touching objects as he went.
“How did I never know this place existed?”
“It was intended as a secret stronghold for the family. The location is passed only to the firstborn child from a parent.” Alastair shrugged. “I imagine it was so the secret would stay safely hidden.”
“Why didn’t ownership get transferred to GiGi when we thought you died in the war?”
“Magic.” He wiggled his brows and grinned at his little brother. “Really, our great-grandfather was still alive. I didn’t receive notification of this place until about ten years ago when he passed on. Since the three of us weren’t really on speaking terms…”
Alastair trailed off. The break with his family had been harder on him than he cared to admit. Where once the Thorne family unit had been close, that had all ended when he had returned hale and hearty to reclaim his lost love. When Aurora chose to remain with Preston, Alastair had taken a bad turn. Not a point in his life he was proud of, but he couldn’t regret his son, Nash.
“Regardless, I’m sharing now, and if anything should happen to me, it will transfer to Nash. But should you ever have need of it, it’s here for your use.”
“You’re too mean to die,” Preston teased with a laugh before turning serious. He gave a slight shudder. “Let’s not talk of death this close to a mission. It gives me the willies.”
Alastair almost said “me, too” but refrained. What was it that was bothering him, he couldn’t say. Instead, he turned his attention back to the matter at hand.
“Okay, from what we can gather, Jace is being held by Sebastian Drake.”
“Sebastian Drake? Isn’t he angling for a high seat on the Council?”
“Exactly, which is why he abducted Jace. His plan seems to be to trade Jace for me to turn me over to the Council.”
“I don’t understand. First, why would he ever believe you would put yourself out for Jace Fennell? And secondly, I thought the Council backed off years ago?”
“I would imagine the witchy rumor mill has let it be known that Aurora is alive, well, and looking to have me make nice with her brother.” Alastair grimaced and leaned back in the high-back leather chair he currently occupied. “As for your other question, I’m sure the only reason the Council refrained from coming after me was because they knew I’d tear their organization down around their ears should they continue to plague me.”
“But now they think Drake is up for the job of taking on the Thornes?” Preston laughed. “Whose crazed idea was that?”
“Drake’s. His ambition seems to outweigh his intelligence.”
“Or someone is putting him up to this,” Ryker inserted from his spot beside the fireplace.
Alastair rose and walked to where his friend sat brooding over his drink. “If you had to guess, who would that someone be?”
“My guess? It would be the person who hates you but still maintains the most influence on the Council.”
“Beecham,” Alastair said flatly. Harold Beecham was the third highest ranking position on the ten-person panel and had been outspoken in his desire to imprison him. The man had tried every means possible to stir up trouble between the Council and Alastair.
“That would be my guess,” Ryker said. He drained his glass. “Beecham was in love with my sister, Trina. He’s never forgiven you for the fact she chose you.”
“Makes sense,” Preston murmured.
“I think you should know, word on the street is Beecham has been working behind the scenes to create another uprising.”
“Dear Goddess!” Preston exclaimed, echoing Alastair’s own thoughts. “Why has the Council not taken action against him if that is the case?”
“Proof. Georgie Sipanil has tasked a few of us to see what we can find on the down-low. The last thing we need is another war for supremacy, and Councilwoman Sipanil knows it.”
Alastair smiled slightly. Georgie Sipanil was a lovely woman. She was well into her nineties but looked like a woman only half her age. Quick-witted and shrewd, she was nobody’s fool. It helped that she liked him. He suspected she was the main reason the Witches’ Council had never declared open warfare on him, most members still deferred to her wisdom.
“Remind me to send her a bottle of my best Scotch,” he laughed.
“I should’ve known. You’ve bewitched her, too, you old dog,” Ryker joked.
“She once had a thing for our father. She’s actually into ginger-haired men.”
Ryker and Alastair looked at a startled Preston.
“You might be the man to charm her, Pres.”
“My days of charming anyone are well over,” he protested good-naturedly. “But a fellow might share a bottle of Scotch with a lonely lady.”
Alastair laughed and clasped his brother on the back. “That’s my boy. Get her location from Ryker and see what she has to say about all this. While you’re doing that, we’ll pay Drake a visit.”
“Is that a good idea if he wants to capture you?”
“Normally, I would say no. But according to his sister, Arabella, he’s heading to London for an art auction.”
Preston’s frowned. “Should I ask why his sister is going behind his back to feed you information?”
“It appears she has befriended Rorie.”
Preston’s expression darkened. “I don’t want her involved, Al. She’s just returned and isn’t strong enough.”
The urge to snarl and snap was strong, but Alastair shoved it back. Preston had a right to voice his concerns for Aurora’s welfare. Still, it rankled.
“She’s not involved in any way other than to communicate with Arabella,” he said with more patience than he felt. He couldn’t resist adding, “Give me some credit, Pres.”
“Yeah, sorry. I’m still sensitive over what the children went through, not only with her loss, but with the tasks you assigned them to revive Rorie. I couldn’t bear it if another person got hurt.”
“I understand. You and I are on the same page. I’m not comfortable with anyone else taking risks on my behalf. I wouldn’t ask you or Ryker either, if I had any choice.”
“You didn’t ask. I volunteered,” Ryker countered.
“We’ll meet back here tomorrow afternoon to compare notes.”
Preston and Ryker nodded their agreement.
“Shall we join the ladies for lunch?”
Ryker magically refilled his tumbler. “I’ll pass. You two go ahead.”
Preston paused with one hand on the door. “You intend to hide out here the whole time?”
“Yes.”
The brothers shared a look, and Alastair silently urged Preston from the room. He turned to face his morose friend. “Ryker.”
“Please, Al, not now.” He took a large swallow of his drink. “If I have to attempt to sit through lunch, I’ll likely lose my cookies at the ridiculousness of it all.”
“You belong together.”
“Do we? As much as it pains me to admit it, I think she’ll be happier without me.”
“Bull.” He charged to where Ryker sat and grabbed the drink from his hand. “Tie her to a chair and show her the truth if you have to.” He conjured a parchment with a tried-and-true spell to reveal the past and slapped it in his brother-in-law’s palm. “You are one of the only people who is stronger and craftier than she is. I have faith you’ll win her back in the end.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Alastair headed for the exit. “Oh, but might I suggest you finish your business first? Start with a clean slate.”