Knox sent a text to both families with GPS coordinates to the new house and a cryptic message to be there at precisely six p.m. that evening and to arrive hungry.
“Do you think it looks okay?” Spring asked for the fourth time in as many minutes.
“Yes.” He leaned in and kissed her in a firm, no-nonsense manner. “Everything looks perfect. Stop worrying.”
“What about the meal?”
“Spring, sweetheart, you’re having a meltdown for no reason. I promise you, your family is going to understand your need to have your own place.” He hugged her against him and rested a cheek on the top of her shiny head. “Autumn moved to Maine before she married Keaton. Summer’s main residence is in North Carolina. And your dad travels the world. I think Winnie and Zane will love having the manor to themselves.” He rubbed a hand up and down her back. “I think once their triplets arrive, you’ll be glad you relocated.”
“Thanks for being the voice of reason.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
She pulled back and lifted a brow. “Really? I thought maybe you—”
The doorbell rang, cutting off what Knox suspected was going to be a naughty comment based on her wicked expression. Damn. He should’ve told everyone seven. “I want you to hold onto that thought for after everyone leaves tonight.”
Her giggle followed him to the door. Knox glanced back to see her wringing her hands and counting plates. “Relax.”
The Thornes were the first to arrive with Coop, Keaton, and Chloe arriving directly after. As Knox expected, they ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the house, and Autumn demanded a grand tour.
Coop hung back to speak to Knox as Spring led the others through the house. “We were all worried when you and Spring took off yesterday. Had we not received your message last night, you’d be in deep shit with the Thornes. As it was, I had to convince Summer we didn’t need to put out a magical all-points bulletin. They are all still triggered when one of their own goes missing.”
“Aww, hell! I didn’t even think about that.”
“It surprises me to hear it. I know you’d lose your shit if the situation was reversed.”
Knox grimaced. “That goes without saying, doesn’t it?” And he would. He’d tear someone a new asshole if he couldn’t find Spring. He should have been more attuned to the feelings of the others, and he told Coop as much.
“No worries, man.”
The doorbell rang.
“Who are we still missing?” Knox asked over his shoulder as he headed toward the front of the house.
“Preston? Who else did you invite?”
Alastair Thorne stood on the other side of the door, facing toward the woods. The large black, wool overcoat gave him a mysterious air.
“Mr. Thorne. Come in.”
“Thank you for the dinner invitation.”
“Of course. It’s not a family gathering without you, sir.”
Spring’s uncle stared at him through narrowed eyes as if to judge his truthfulness. “I almost believe you’re serious.”
“I am.” So there wasn’t any doubt, Knox held out his hand. “You did your damnedest to protect me and Spring throughout the years from behind the scenes. We both owe you a debt of gratitude.”
“I’m not looking for gratitude, son. The only payment I expect is for you to live a happy life.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem.”
“Good.”
Knox cleared his throat. “May I ask you something?”
Alastair’s brows rose in inquiry.
“Yesterday, Serqet paid a visit to me and Spring in the clearing.”
Those arrogant brows clashed together, and Alastair’s gaze sharpened. “Yesterday?”
“Yes. She indicated I was the one who killed my father. Not Lin.”
Knox locked gazes with Alastair and saw confirmation in the other man’s blue-steel stare.
“So it’s true?”
“It is.”
“Why did I never remember? For that matter, why didn’t you eventually tell me the truth? You had your chance that day in the clearing.”
“What was the point? For you to feel even more self-hatred? You had already piled more than your share of guilt on yourself. You painted yourself with the same brush of evil that colored Robert and Marianne. You are nothing like them and telling you the truth would only have made you doubt your worth.”
Spring’s arms came around Knox from behind. “I, for one, appreciate your restraint in revealing the truth, Uncle. Can you imagine how much harder it would’ve been to convince him he was worthy of love?”
The warmth of her adoration wrapped around Knox and chased away the last of his demons. He placed his arms over hers and entwined their fingers. With a quick kiss on her knuckles, he placed her arm back around his waist and addressed Alastair. “I appreciate it, too, as well as all the times you’ve been there for both of us. This family was ugly to you in the early days of your return. I’m sorry.”
Alastair unbent enough to grace them with a genuine smile. “Apology accepted. It wasn’t needed, but the gesture is nice. Now, what’s for dinner? I’m starved.”
“Come see my beautiful new home, Uncle.” Spring, impulsive as always, grabbed Alastair’s hand and tugged him toward the foyer.
Knox was about to close the front door when the last of their guests arrived. Preston teleported in mere seconds before Holly Thorne-Hill and her ever-present shadow, Quentin Buchanan. Preston and Holly shared an awkward greeting, mostly on her part while her uncle looked sad and a little lost.
“Welcome!” Knox smiled and strove to ease the tension. “Spring is giving group tours of the house. She just started the second one.”
Holly nodded and hurried down the hall, leaving Knox alone with Preston and Quentin.
“Beer in the fridge?” Trust Quentin to cut through any tenseness with a blunt statement or question of any kind.
“Right through there.”
“Thanks. Anyone else want one?”
“Sure. Mr. Thorne?”
“I’d prefer an aged whisky if you have it,” Preston said.
“Brand preference?”
“Glenfiddich.”
Knox pointed to the liquor cabinet in the room on the right, designated for his study. “The good stuff is in there.”
“I’m on it.” With a lazy, ambling walk, Quentin was off to play the role of bartender, effectively leaving Preston and Knox alone on the front porch.
Without further ado, Knox shut the door and gestured Preston to the comfortable outside seating to their left. “I’m sorry I didn’t notify everyone right away yesterday that Spring was with me and safe. We were caught up in dealing with a few visiting goddesses.”
A look of concern passed over Preston’s countenance. “What happened?”
“Isis showed up first and gave Spring the gift of her old memories—without the emotional attachment, according to her. I suppose, for Spring, it was like watching a movie of her own life. Just as she was recovering from that little blast from the past, Serqet arrived to claim responsibility for the shooting and to threaten us.”
“Dear God!”
“Yeah, we needed some downtime from drama.”
“Understandable. I’d have reacted the same way, I imagine.” Preston shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, mussing the coppery locks. “Does Serqet blame you both for Lin’s demise?”
“Among other things. Apparently, there’s such a thing as reincarnation.” Knox still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact he’d been lover to a goddess once upon a time. Or that the same goddess preferred him dead rather than to see him happy with another woman. “Did you know that? Because I’m wondering why I didn’t.”
“I did.”
Knox grunted. He always seemed to be the last to learn things lately. “You should know, Serqet hates Spring. Like with a passion. She’s obsessed with making us pay for what she sees as Spring stealing me from her.”
“I see.” Preston closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cushions. “It’s never-ending. All I want is for my daughters to be safe and happy, yet at every turn, old enemies are emerging out of the woodwork, ready to throw our lives into upheaval.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
Preston cracked an eyelid. “You have no reason to be, son. I imagine you’d die rather than upset my youngest. I’m happy you’ve found each other.”
Quentin walked out, handed them their drinks, and just as quietly left the men to their conversation. Knox almost laughed at Quentin’s ability to assess a situation in mere seconds and get the hell out of Dodge before shit got real.
Dismissing Quentin, Knox focused his attention back on Preston. Would he be so happy if he knew Knox was a murderer? That he killed both his own parents in addition to the men who had been guarding Spring in Colombia?
As if Preston read Knox’s mind, he said, “I know the truth surrounding Robert’s death.”
From where he rested back against the cushions, Knox straightened and leaned forward. “You know I struck down my father with the equivalent of a lightning bolt?”
“Yes. And he damned-well deserved it.”
“Absolutely!” Alastair stepped from the gathering shadows. “That’s always been my personal opinion. I’m glad we’re all in agreement.”
Agreement? Knox wasn’t convinced he agreed, but he didn’t wholly believe he disagreed either. For sure his life had been better off without his abusive father in the picture, but now the weight of murder hung about Knox’s neck, and it was heavier than he could ever have imagined. Why had he killed him? For some reason, it bothered him more than the killing of his mother and Don Carlos, both of whom deserved to rot in hell for their attacks on Spring.
Knox’s head shot up. He stared between the two brothers. They both wore a look of kind patience, as if they were waiting for him to figure out a puzzle they had already solved. “Why did I kill my father? It was to protect Spring, wasn’t it?”
The satisfied curl of Alastair’s smile told Knox he’d guessed correctly.
“Why was she there in the first place?”
“Spring had been kidnapped once before. By your mother and father.” Preston’s faced went grim with the retelling. “She’d been in the clearing. I assumed I’d cloaked it well enough for the girls to play, but it seemed my wards weren’t strong enough. You broke through them.”
Shock slammed into Knox. “Me? How the hell does an eight-year-old boy break a ward created by a Thorne warlock?”
“How does an eight-year-old boy stop time or conjure lightning bolts from air?” Alastair rolled his eyes and glanced at his brother in exasperation. “I thought he was the smart one?”
Preston’s lips twitched, but otherwise he ignored his brother’s snark. “I’ll tell you a secret only the two of us know.” He waved to himself and Alastair. “You are the most powerful warlock in existence, son. More powerful than the two of us.”
“But if you say as much, I will call you a damned liar,” Alastair cut in.
Once again, Preston’s lips twisted into a hint of a smile. “You were gifted your magic from Isis many lifetimes ago. It isn’t just built into your DNA; it’s built into your soul, like no other witch or warlock alive. If I died tomorrow and was reincarnated, there is a chance I might not come back with powers if I were born to a normal family. But even should you be born to a non-magical family, you would retain your powers. It was Isis’s way of protecting you from Serqet.”
“The short version of what my brother is trying to say is that Isis wanted to insure you always had the power to take down a god or goddess should you need to. It’s why she showed up when Spring died. She needed to temper your rage and prevent you from destroying the entire South American continent.”
“No way I have that much power! No fucking way!”
“You do. And luckily, you also have the calmest temperament of anyone I’ve ever met. But my beloved niece is your trigger. When she is threatened, you become a ticking time bomb. Just as you did as a child.” Alastair sighed. “I made up the story of Lin killing your father because I didn’t believe you should carry the weight of Robert’s death on your shoulders. But Lin was there that night for the handoff of Spring for whatever nefarious reasons he’d planned with your parents.”
Alastair reached over and touched Knox’s temple. “Remember.”
All the real memories came crashing back, and he relived the scene.
He’d been in the corner reading when his parents brought an unconscious Spring through the door. She had been filthy, and her dried tears had left a distinct trail through the dirt on her face. Knox jumped up and ran to where they’d dumped her on the sofa. When he moved to touch her, Robert slapped him hard across the face. The ring on his father’s finger slashed his cheek open. Oddly, for the first time in his life, Knox hadn’t cowered. He stood his ground and glared at his father as the blood poured from the wound.
“She’s mine, and I’m hers,” Knox cried out.
Robert laughed and grabbed Knox by the hair. “She belongs to Zhu Lin now, boy. You won’t want her after what he has planned for her. Take your last look. She’ll be gone soon. Maybe then you can concentrate on what we are trying to teach you.”
Zhu Lin had shown up within minutes of Robert’s ugly words. Knox hadn’t known what his father meant at the time, other than Spring was to be taken from him. It was the first incident of frozen time. He’d halted the molecules around him and gathered Spring to his chest. He’d made it to the corner with her when time snapped back.
All the occupants of the room stared at him in wide-eyed wonder. However, his father’s rage overrode his wariness of a powerful little boy. As Robert charged toward him, intent on taking Spring, Knox screamed and sent the full force of his magic toward his father. The bolt not only electrocuted Robert Knox, it burnt him to a cinder.
Zhu Lin wasted no time beating a hasty retreat. Only Knox’s distraught mother remained in the room, sizing him up and trying to determine the best way to proceed with an angry, terrified child on her hands. That was the moment when the Thornes had shown up to retrieve the family jewel.
“Jesus! I remember it all now.” Knox rose to his feet and moved to the rail. As he stared out over his property, he tried to come to grips with the fact that he possessed the power to end Serqet should he choose. “Does Serqet know how strong my magic is?”
Alastair moved to his side and propped a hip against the white railing. “She does.”
“So her proposition today was in order to gain that power for herself.” Spring stated.
The men all jerked around to face her.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” Her mischievous smirk said otherwise. “But back to Serqet. Are we to assume she was the one who created those shackles in order to steal abilities? If so, do you think her intent would have been to use them to harness Knox’s magic had he agreed to her terms today?”
“Quite probably,” Preston agreed.
Spring sauntered to the loveseat and sat beside Preston. She gave him a long, curious look and snuggled into his warmth. Her father’s arm encircled her and held her close. They were a lovely picture: father and daughter. How many times had they sat thus, curled up and sharing a quiet, peaceful moment together?
In watching the two of them together, Knox envisioned his and Spring’s child down the road. He hoped to be able to sit in that exact spot and hear about his or her adventures. Listen with an open heart and mind about all the magical wonders their little tyke discovered that particular day. The vision was so real as to be a peek into the future. Knox prayed to the goddess that it would be true.
“Knox told us Isis showed you the movie reel of your life.”
Spring’s gaze sought Knox before she answered. “She did.”
Preston nodded slowly and tightened his arm. “Then you will see what a poor excuse for a father I’ve been.” The gruffness in his voice couldn’t be mistaken for anything but high emotion.
“I don’t think you were a bad father. I understand you have your reasons for your travels.” Spring lifted her head to study Preston’s face. “But what I do know is that you came for me. More than once. You always tried to protect me and show me love. I can only imagine that before Colombia, I knew that and loved you deeply in return. And if you give me time, I’m sure I’ll adore you as much as I once did.”
Tears escaped down his cheeks as he gazed down upon his daughter’s earnest face. “I’m so glad you were returned to us. I will always be in the goddess’s debt for what she did for this family. I love you, daughter. And if by some freak accident, your memory of this moment is erased, I will tell you again. But more importantly, I will show you.”
“Thanks, Dad.” The smile she showed Preston was impish and lovely. “Since I missed Christmas, I’ve decided to make you a list of things I want.”
“Don’t let her hit you up for an all-expenses-paid trip to Paris for a shopping expedition.” Alastair pushed off the railing and squatted in front of her. With a sleight of hand, he produced a credit card. “She’s already secured that gift from me.”
“Thank you, Uncle.” In one fluid motion, she rose, plucked the card from his grasp, and kissed his cheek, then flipped her hand to reveal a second credit card. “Thanks to Isis’s mental download, I remembered what you taught me. Which one should I charge for my trip?”
Alastair’s astonishment was priceless, and had Knox had his phone, he would take a picture for posterity. Surprising Spring’s uncle had to be a rarity.
With a wink to Knox, Spring handed Alastair the card she’d swiped. “Now, let’s see about our guests. I can’t imagine it is too comfortable for them with their noses pressed against the front windows.”
Sure enough, Knox spied her sisters and their significant others staring unabashedly through the blinds. “Never a dull moment in this family.”
“Truer words were never spoken, son,” Alastair said with a laugh and a hard pound on Knox’s back. “What’s for dinner?”