Liz and Quentin had only made it through two shelving units before Rafe reappeared.
“Liz?” Rafe’s voice echoed through the opening of the chamber.
Just as she was about to call out, Quentin clamped a hand over her mouth. “Wait.”
“Liz, darling? Where are you, my dear?”
Her eyes widened. “It’s not Rafe. He never uses any endearment but qalbi,” she whispered.
“No, it’s not. The energy in the building has shifted and is all wrong.”
“What about the wards?”
“I left them down so Rafe and the others could return. I didn’t think he’d be this long.”
Liz knew true fear. Had Rafe never made it back to Alastair’s estate? Was it possible he had, but then the family was attacked and incapacitated? How did their enemies know that she and Quentin were alone at Thorne Industries? Question after question tumbled around in her mind. The one she asked was, “What do we do?”
“Have a little fun.”
“Oh, Goddess! I should’ve kept Rafe as my bodyguard.”
“Oh, buck up, little Lizzy. You’re a Thorne and a badass to the core.”
Quentin’s mini pep talk worked as intended.
She straightened. “What’s the plan?”
“We’re cloaked, remember? He can’t hear or see us. How about we capture us an impostor?”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Easy-peasy, darlin’. Come on.”
They didn’t bother to creep forward, not when their movement was muffled as it was. Liz sent a silent thank you to Granny Thorne for her spell.
“Wait. Wasn’t the Spear of Lugh on the list?”
“Yes. Hold still. I’ll get it.”
She stayed in place as Quentin went back to retrieve the spear. It had been carved by a master craftsman, who also happened to be one of the Irish gods. Rumor had it, once activated, the fiery magic could defeat the wielder’s greatest enemy. Liz suspected the weapon’s magic was too great for her to handle, but since Quentin descended from Zeus, she had no doubt he could bring the spear to life.
Fake Rafe continued to call to her. Anger tinged his voice. If she wasn’t sure earlier, she was positive he was an impostor now. Whoever posed as Rafe couldn’t enter the archives, because it was the one ward Liz had secured herself when they arrived earlier. Now, the pretender was forced to pace outside the invisible opening, looking for the entry.
“Got it. Now what? Plunge it into his treacherous heart?” Quentin asked, only half teasing.
“That’s one option. But we need to find out answers.” They moved closer to the exit. “Can you send out a feeler to see if there are any others lying in wait for us?”
“I can do better than that, Lizzy. Once we reach the opening, I want you to stay in this chamber. I’ll scope out the vicinity and make sure he’s alone.”
“I don’t think we should separate, Quentin.”
“Liz? This isn’t funny. Come out now!” Fake Rafe called out, his voice edging into desperation.
“I need to scope it out. If I don’t, the others could walk into a trap when they get here.”
She clutched Quentin’s arm tighter in response. His logic was sound, but Liz hated it all the same. Finally, she nodded. “Take the spear.”
“Any idea how it works?”
“I don’t suppose you know the Gaelic word for ignite, do you?”
“For the love of the Goddess! Where is Spring when we need her?”
“Maybe it crosses the language barriers and will respond to Latin.”
“If not, I go back to my original plan to stab him through the heart.”
“Deal.” She loosened her grip on his forearm. “Please be careful.”
“Do I get a going-away kiss like Rafe? I mean, I’m going into battle and all.”
She laughed as he had intended she should. “Go, you tool.”
“You sound just like Autumn when you say that. It’s creepy.” Quentin gave her a warm smile that belied his words. “If something happens, get your ass out of here. Don’t try to take anyone on.”
Liz gave him a slight nod. The truth was, she’d try to save him if she could. He was vital to her family and—more importantly—to his wife, Holly, and his baby, Francesca.
After pausing for a long moment to study Liz’s face, he shook his head. “I shouldn’t have wasted my breath. You’ll charge into the fray because you think it’s the right thing to do.”
Biting her lip to keep from laughing, she shrugged.
With a light squeeze of her hand, Quentin went out to confront Fake Rafe.
“Papa?”
“Yes, my darling beastie?”
“Liz is in trouble.”
Rafe had been in the middle of informing the Thornes and the Aether of the disappearance of the Ring of Dispel when Sabrina crept into the room. His heart nearly stopped when she stated Liz was in trouble. No one questioned how she knew because Damian had informed them earlier that she was destined to be an Oracle. As such, she had the second sight and the ability to see into the future. Although, in this case, it was the present.
Her father held out his arms to her, and she crawled into his lap. She pointed at Rafe. “It’s him.”
“What?” Rafe hadn’t meant to shout, but there was no way in hell he’d hurt Liz. It would be less painful to rip out his own heart and stomp on it. “I’d never!”
“He’s there now, Papa. She needs help.”
How could he be in two places?
“Is she—” Rafe’s question regarding her sanity never made it past his lips. Any desire to speak was squashed when he saw the thunderous expression forming on Damian’s face.
“No, she isn’t, and you’d do well to mind your tongue, Xuereb.”
In a move that shocked them all, Sabrina held out her arms to Rafe. With a wary look at the Aether, he lifted her until her small face was level with his.
She placed the flat of her palms on his temples. “Watch.”
The scene flashed through his mind as it was unfolding. A witch or warlock pretending to be him was trying to draw Liz from the archives, only she was too intelligent to fall for it. Quentin, on the other hand, was about to walk into a trap. Ten or more henchmen had managed to cloak their presence.
Rafe handed Sabrina off to her father with a heartfelt thank you.
“We have to help Quentin,” he stated with a calmness he didn’t feel.
“Papa will save her,” the little girl said with unquestionable assurance.
“I cannot leave you, Sabrina,” Damian told her. “It isn’t safe.”
She patted her father’s cheek like a wise old woman. “Go now, Papa. Please.”
The Aether’s indecision could be felt by all, and it was damned uncomfortable.
Aurora Fennell-Thorne stepped forward and clasped Sabrina’s hand. “No one will touch her while I draw a breath, Damian. She’s safe.”
His eyes never leaving those of his daughter, he held out a hand to Rafe. “Take me to Liz.”
Sabrina’s sunny smile lit the room, and her happiness reached out like rays of sunshine to warm the group gathered in Alastair’s study. “Thank you, Papa.”
When Rafe touched the Aether’s wrist, he experienced a surge of raw power. It woke his cells and made his body vibrate with pure energy. “What the hell?”
“I’m supercharging you for the fight ahead, should you need it. Take me straight into the fray.”
He didn’t need to be told twice, and pulling up a mental picture of Nash’s office, Rafe teleported with Damian at his side. Quentin was just stepping through the opening to the archives when they arrived, but the presence of the Aether stripped his invisibility cloak. The surprise put him at a disadvantage, and the blow to his upper back sent him crashing into the wall.
“Duck and cover,” Damian snapped.
What the hell he meant by that was up for interpretation, but Rafe dropped to the ground and covered his head. A radiant blue-tinged light illuminated the room instantaneously. A strong charge of electricity rocked his body, burning through his clothing and searing his skin. He couldn’t contain his cry of pain. Any sound he made was mild in comparison to the terrified and tortured screams of the men around him. The exception was Quentin, who seemed immune to the bolts of lightning flying about the room.
In less than sixty seconds, Damian was squatting in front of Rafe. “I’m sorry, Xuereb. It was the only thing I could think to do in the moment. I’m going to touch you now, and it’s going to hurt like a bitch at first.”
The contact triggered Rafe’s scream. It echoed around the cavernous office and brought Liz running. She called his name but was halted by Quentin before she could get to him. The horror in her eyes told Rafe exactly how bad he looked—a small fraction of how he was feeling. He couldn’t remember ever passing out in his life, but as black spots danced in his peripheral vision, he figured he was about to experience his first faint.
Just as he thought it would be lights out, his skin began to cool and his insides no longer felt like molten lava. Rafe wanted to sob his relief. To see his skin pigment shift from crimson to its standard olive tone was disconcerting. Even as he watched, the fine hairs on his arms sprouted and thickened to pre-electrocution.
After what seemed like an eternity, Damian rose to his feet and held out a hand to help him up. Everyone studiously avoided looking at his exposed privates. Had he felt less like a lightning rod and more like a human, he’d have laughed and teased them. As it was, he barely had the energy to thank Liz when she conjured clothes for him.
He wobbled on his feet and voiced his gratitude when Damian lent him a steadying hand.
Liz hesitated only a second before she wrapped her arms around Rafe’s middle.
“I’m going to have nightmares about this,” she stated tearfully. “I thought you… I thought…”
“It’s okay, qalbi. I’m all right now.”
“I’m sorry, Liz.” Damian touched her shoulder, and she flinched.
“You saved our lives, Damian. You don’t have to apologize to me. I just need a minute to process that Rafe is alive and well. Also, that you are much scarier than I ever imagined.”
“Understood.” His tone was more reserved.
“How the hell did you make it through that unscathed,” Rafe asked Quentin.
“I’m not sure.”
They all faced the Aether.
Damian’s narrowed-eyed gaze was locked on the spear in Quentin’s fist. “Is that the Spear of Lugh?”
“Guessed it in one.” Quentin grinned cheekily.
“There’s your answer.” Damian held out a hand for the weapon. “May I?”
He examined the piece, his eyes missing nothing as his fingertips traced the inscribed symbols. Under his touch, the runes glowed. “Stunning craftsmanship.”
“Uh, Damian, is it meant to glow like that?”
He chuckled at Rafe’s uneasy question. “For me, yes.” After handing the weapon back to Quentin, he studied the bodies on the floor. “I’m afraid there’s no identifying them now that they resemble burnt bacon.”
Rafe felt the blood drain from his face to his toes as he took in the charred remains of the men who’d planned to attack Liz. Queasiness assailed him. “Was that how I looked? How did I survive?”
“The influx of magic I gave you before we arrived kept you alive. I hadn’t intended it for that purpose, but it worked to save you all the same.”
“They never stood a chance against you, did they?”
“No.” The somber note betrayed Damian’s inner demons. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind what he was and what he could do. Rafe imagined his life was lonely as hell.
“Why don’t you get back to Sabrina? We can clean up this mess,” Rafe suggested to Damian.
“No. She’s safe enough for the moment, and you can barely stand. If another wave of enemies attacks, I don’t want to tell my daughter I failed to save her favorite person.”
“Sabrina sent you for me?” At Damian’s nod, Liz smiled her thanks. “We owe you both big time for this.”
“You owe me nothing, and trust me, you’ll prefer it that way.”
The cryptic response sent a shiver of unease along Rafe’s spine. He was sure owing the Aether anything would be the equivalent of selling your soul to the devil in the Christian world. You might not like what he required of you in the future.
“Rafe tells me the Ring of Dispel is missing.”
Liz nodded, her concern over the absent item apparent.
“May I take a look at your inventory list and see if there may be another object that might work as well?”
“Of course. Whatever you need.” Her eyes never touched on the bodies surrounding them, but instead, locked on Damian. “Do we just leave them for now?”
“Yes. It’ll be hard to determine who they were if anyone else shows up.” He paused as if a thought occurred to him. “Are there mortals in this building?”
Liz shook her head. “No. Nash gave them the week off with pay when this whole thing started. He was afraid they might be hurt should this very thing happen.”
“Excellent. Let’s see what you have on hand, shall we?”
“I’m afraid there are already a number of things missing. Quentin and I were taking inventory when Fake Rafe showed up.”
Damian grinned. “Fake Rafe?”
“That’s what I’ve been calling him mentally.”
“Give me your list, and I’ll save you some time.”
She wordlessly reached for the clipboard on the shelf beside the archive entrance and handed it over.
The Aether simply swept a hand over the ten-page list. “Ostendo.” He then handed the clipboard back to Liz and held up his hands, palms facing outward. His eyes took on a golden glow, and he pivoted his head from side to side. One by one, yellow lines highlighted items on Liz’s inventory sheet.
“Holy shit!” Quentin muttered.
Rafe couldn’t stop his racing heart. Damian made their own use of magic look like child’s play.
The entire process took less than three minutes and revealed nine missing items.
Damian surveyed the list over Liz’s shoulder. “These are all objects to help restore magic. It seems someone didn’t want the Thornes to get their powers back.”
“Fuck!”
They all looked at Liz in silent surprise.
“I’m going to rip Franco’s heart out,” she snarled.
Having seen how feisty she could be in the past, Rafe was the first to grin. “Welcome back, tiger.”