Autumn followed her instincts and headed for the Carlyle property. Reason suggested Chloe would look for the familiar, and Autumn only prayed she’d discover a kind soul to look out for her. How terrifying must it be for a young teen to find herself lost in an alternate dimension, misplace her toddler brother, and not be able to get help when she needed it?
Annoyed at the adults who should’ve known better, Autumn trudged through the woods. Grunts and what sounded like fists crunching bone hurried her steps, and she broke through a cove of trees to see her husband fighting another man.
“Mommy!”
Chloe’s frantic shout brought her head around, and Autumn ran to scoop her into a tight embrace. Overcome, she blinked back the tears trying to crowd her eyes. “Oh, Chloe! I was so worried about you.”
“I’m sorry,” her daughter sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Mommy.”
“None of that, kid.” Drawing back, Autumn smoothed Chloe’s tangled hair. “Your dad and I are just glad you’re safe.”
“But I lost Jolly, and—”
“We found Jolly, and he’s fine. Promise.”
Peering around, Chloe’s brows drew together. “But he’s not here.”
“He’s with my parents and Uncle Alastair. He’s safe, too.”
“They came?” she asked in disbelief. “Here? To this place?”
Surprised by Chloe’s inability to understand why the others would come for her, Autumn knelt in front of her. “What’s this all about? You know you’re an honorary Thorne and our Witch Club president. Of course, everyone is going to look for you. We’d rip hell apart to get you back.”
“Uh, Tums?”
Autumn lifted her gaze to Gothica.
“That’s not your kid. That is Rachel.”
Coldness invaded her face as the blood receded. The proof was in the little things: the texture of her hair and the smell of her shampooed head. Hell, even her body was skinnier. But the tipoff should’ve been that Chloe never called her “Mommy.” It was always “Mama.” Yet Autumn had ignored the oddness of the word in her relief that her child was safe.
Feeling faint, she looked into the smug, dark eyes of the girl before her. How had she been able to fool her? Autumn could see through most people’s bullshit in an instant.
Fury almost blinded her, and she gripped the girl’s shoulders, giving her a hard shake. “Where’s my kid?”
“I’m your kid, Mommy. I’m Chloe,” Rachel lied.
“No, you’re not. Whatever game you’re playing, it needs to stop. Right now!”
The sounds of the dual-Keaton scuffle died away as Autumn’s husband straightened and wiped the back of his wrist across his mouth, accidentally smearing his blood across his cheek instead of getting rid of it.
“What the fuck is going on? Of course that’s Chloe,” he panted out.
“No, Keat. It’s not. When have you ever known her to use the word mommy?” With her finger and thumb, she tilted the girl’s chin up. The small scar Chloe had received from a bicycle crash was missing from beneath. “I’ll give you one opportunity to tell me where my daughter is, kid. Then I’m going to let my temper fly. Trust me, no one likes it when that happens.”
Her tone was rigid, and her expression unyielding. Likely for the first time in Young Rachel’s life, she’d met her match.
“She’s in the shed,” the girl said, giving off an uncaring vibe. But Autumn saw deeper and recognized the blasé attitude for what it was. Loneliness and a sense of feeling unloved.
She ran her knuckles along the girl’s soft cheek and smiled her gratitude. “Thank you, Rachel. Before you show me where it is, I want you to make nice and apologize to your aunt for the pranks you’ve pulled in the past.”
Resentment flared to life on her face.
“This isn’t a request, kid. Along with LJ, she’s the only stable influence I’ve seen in this hellhole.” Leaning in, Autumn met Rachel’s gaze squarely. “She’ll love you if you let her.”
Moisture welled in the dark eyes staring back at her, and after a few rapid blinks, the girl looked up at Gothica. “Really?” she asked hoarsely.
After studying Rachel for an extraordinarily long moment, Gothica nodded. “I’d like that, if you would.”
“You’ll stay away from my daughter, darklin’!” Redneck Keaton shouted as he climbed to his feet. “She ain’t gonna be like you and your kind!”
Rising, Autumn shot him a quelling glance and tucked Rachel into her side. “Shut the fuck up, asshole. You don’t know what the hell you’re saying.”
“I don’t care if you look like my slut wife or not. I’ll not have you talk to me that way,” he growled.
“She’ll talk to you as she sees fit,” Keaton snapped. “Spring has been nothing but helpful to us since we arrived, unlike you, ya dick.” With a shove to the guy’s chest, Keaton gave him a disgusted look. “If you weren’t a lazy lush, your daughter might not be running unchecked through life. She might achieve something great.”
“I want to be great,” Rachel said softly.
The arrested expression on RK’s face as he turned his attention to his daughter was encouraging, and Autumn prayed to the Goddess the man would wake up soon and realize the treasure he had.
With a probing stare at Gothica, he slowly nodded. “You can teach her the magic her ma won’t?”
“I can,” she replied.
“None of that black magic, voodoo shit, though,” he warned.
“None of that. Just how to be a proper witch. Something my sister should’ve taught us both.”
“Alright, then.”
Autumn couldn’t help wondering if her own counterpart here in this world had caused most of the problems for this father-and-daughter duo. If so, she definitely needed a swift kick to the ass. “Where’s the shed?”
“’Bout a hundred yards that way.” He gestured with his thumb toward the area that would contain the barn in Autumn’s reality.
Signaling Keaton with a nod toward RK, she gripped Rachel’s hand and stormed in the direction indicated. Rachel ran to keep up, but didn’t complain. Behind them, Autumn could hear RK grumble as Keaton not-so-nicely encouraged him to follow their small trio.
Gothica remained quiet until they had reached the edge of the property. “Wait, Tums. Let him go first. In case he’s got traps in place.”
“RK, get your butt moving,” Autumn called back.
“RK?” he asked.
“Redneck Keaton.”
For the second time since they met, Gothica’s laughter was unrestrained. “I think I adore you,” she gasped out.
“What’s not to adore?” Autumn quipped as Rachel watched them in wide-eyed wonder.
“I wish my mom were like you,” the girl suddenly whispered. “You’re cool.”
“Your mom and I will have a come-to-Jesus meeting before I go, kid. I promise you that.”