“I’m sorry for punching you in the face,” Autumn said a few minutes later as Gothica spread a salve on her back. The woman refused to use actual magic to heal her, stating she’d shunned using it unless she had no choice.
“I probably deserved it,” Gothica replied shortly.
“You didn’t. I’ve got a hair-trigger temper, and I’m itching to find my kids.”
Silence greeted her comment, but the fingers on her back gentled.
“Why are you estranged from the family, Gothica?”
The other woman choked off a laugh. “Gothica?”
“Sorry. You’ve got the whole goth thing going, with the black clothes and chunky-heeled shit stompers. The name helps me keep you and my sister, uh, the other Spring, separate in my mind.”
“Gothica.” A snort sounded behind her. “Fitting.”
“So? The family thing?”
The woman took a long moment to screw the lid on her salve tin, then another to put it in the messenger bag slung over her shoulder. Just when Autumn thought she wouldn’t answer, Gothica said, “I think my life was probably a little harder than your sister’s.”
Autumn scoffed. “I doubt that.”
“Did your parents cast her out for dabbling in the dark arts?” As if she understood she was being waspish, Gothica cleared her throat. “When you have an insatiable mind, you want to know everything. I fell in with a group of rebellious witches who believed the Authority was made up of a bunch of asshats determined to mind control us.”
“You believe in mind control?” Autumn asked disbelievingly. Her gaze met solemn jade eyes.
“No. But it was nice to have the freedom to do what I wanted instead of what was expected. Of what came with the Thorne name.” Gothica focused on the leather tie attached to the bag, working it until Autumn was convinced it would tear off. “There were other beings with capabilities far beyond those of an average witch, and I needed to know how that worked. Why they were given certain gifts over others.”
Gothica’s passion for knowledge was reflected in her voice. The longing to learn, evident in the searching glance she cast Spring’s way.
“You’re misunderstood.” Autumn didn’t mean to blurt it, but it surprised her to see the lost, lonely person her own sister might’ve been had she not received guidance. “But where were the rest of us? Where was I? Summer? Winnie?”
“I don’t know anyone named Summer. Winnie?” A quicksilver flash of pain crossed her face. “If you mean our sister, Winter, she left a long time ago. When I was still a kid. No one’s heard from her in years.”
“Summer doesn’t exist?” An ache started in Autumn’s chest. What would her life have been without their fourth sister? The sunshine and laughter Summer added to their lives were immeasurable. “There were only the three of us?”
Gothica nodded. “This world’s Autumn hooked up with Keaton right out of college, and Winnie took off in high school. And our parents left for an extended tour of Europe, where they died. It’s just me. Whenever I tried to tag along with Autumn and Keaton, she sent me home.”
“Jesus, hon. I’m so sorry.” LJ caught her attention in the distance as he gestured toward the direction of Thorne Manor. “What about him? He seems pretty cool.”
“He tried to take me in, but his wife’s a bit of a bitch.”
“His wife is our mother in my world,” Autumn replied with a hard laugh. “The one with the short black hair, just there, talking to Uncle Alastair and LJ.”
“Who’s LJ?”
“Lumberjack Alastair. It’s the flannel shirt and beard. He’s made it way too easy for me to nickname him.”
Gothica laughed, and the sound was as sweet as Spring’s, but it was short-lived, as if the woman surprised herself with her display of amusement. But a wicked grin lingered, and she said, “That name is totally going to stick after you’re gone.”
Autumn fist bumped her. “That’s what I’m talking about. Now, how about we find my kids, then you and I can have a sit-down and chat about what we can do to make your life better?”
“What’s wrong with my life?”
As far as accidentally stepping in shit went, Autumn had jumped in with both feet. “I didn’t mean it quite like it sounded. Only that I want to be sure you have everything you need. Maybe help you get rid of any darkness from the black arts so you can feel free to use your abilities as intended.”
With a grudging nod, Gothica led the way back to the others in Autumn’s group.
“When I saw Ra—uh, Chloe, she was wearing a blue top and jeans. There was a hole in one knee and twigs in her hair, but other than that, she seemed to be okay.”
“Which direction did she run off to?”
“The Carlyle cabin.”
“Cabin? Not estate?” Keaton asked sharply.
“Estate?” Gothica laughed again, and it was pure hilarity. “Those good-for-nothing Carlyles couldn’t be bothered with the upkeep of an estate.” Her perfect nose scrunched as she eyed Keaton, who had been silent until now. “Sorry, bud, but it’s true.”
Keaton opened his mouth to reply, but whatever he’d intended to say was cut short when the ground beneath them rumbled.
A child’s angry scream sounded in the distance, and the trembling earth shook harder.
“Jolyon!” Alastair shouted over the roar of the earthquake. “We have to get his anklet back on him.”
Staggering and scrambling to maintain her footing, Autumn bolted for the trees, screaming her son’s name.