Chapter 3
Afternoon sunlight filtered through the branches of the massive pecan trees lining the Monroe property.
It cast dappled shadows across the fluted columns and the lightly swaying porch swing.
The place hadn’t changed much since Alex saw it last. It sported a fresh coat of paint and new flower baskets with a fern or two, making the overall look homey and inviting.
Like Beth.
Alex stared at her house from the edge of the gravel drive.
Although his feet felt rooted in the red Carolina clay, like an anchor to the earth, he swayed.
He’d been off-kilter since learning of his daughter.
How the hell had he never known about Abbie?
Beth had his number and should’ve called.
And how was he supposed to casually stroll onto that wraparound porch and knock as if he had the right after forty-plus years?
He stepped forward, hesitated to gather his courage, then closed the distance to the porch. When he reached the base of the wide steps, the door swung open, and there she stood—dark hair and heartbreakingly haunted eyes.
“I was hoping you’d eventually come,” she said in that soft Southern drawl of hers.
Jaw tight and throat thick, Alex dragged a hand down his face. “I only found out I had a daughter three hours ago, or I’d have been here sooner.”
Beth’s pale face crumpled, and tears welled in her large blue eyes. “Oh, Alex.”
He bounded up the steps, catching her in his arms as she sank to her knees.
“I’m going to save her, Beth. Count on it.”
She drew back to meet his eyes, and he hoped like hell they reflected the promise in his heart.
“I’m not doubting you, but how do you plan to do it? She’s been dead for two years.”
“I’m formulating a plan. Will you tell me about her?” he asked as he guided her to the swing.
“She was so much like you. Quick with a quip, adventurous, never encountered a challenge she wasn’t going to meet head-on.
” Beth smiled, and the bittersweet sight tightened his stomach.
“I looked for you when I discovered I was pregnant, but every source said the same thing. Alex Collins didn’t exist.”
“I was on the run, but if I had known…”
Her hollow expression said she didn’t believe him.
“Do you know what I am?” he asked.
“I suspect I do.” She trailed her fingers over his cheekbone. “You haven’t aged a day in forty-two years, and even for a warlock, that’s odd.”
“I’m a Traveler, Beth. My birth name was Anton O’Connor—”
Her face froze, and wariness entered her eyes. Rightfully so. The surname carried a lot of baggage. “O’Connor? From the Irish O’Connors?”
“Yes. Loman was my brother and was put down like the feral beast he was. He’s who I was running from, along with the Désorceler Society, which he worked for.” There wasn’t anyone in the witch community unfamiliar with the name of the organization intent on murdering them.
Alex touched her hand, and when she flinched, he said, “I’m nothing like him. No more than Abbie was like him. When I was a teenager, I ran away from home. It was good fortune Alastair Thorne and Damian Dethridge found me first.”
“But there’s only one Traveler—Oh! Ohmygod! Alexander Castor!” She covered her mouth as she shook her head. “I’m so stupid!”
“No. You’re not. You saw what I wanted you to.”
“You’re a legend.” Beth fingered a strand of his hair. “The white-blond hair and the icy-blue eyes are a dead giveaway. We’ve all heard talk of you, but I still didn’t piece it together. It’s a wonder no one did after Abbie was born.”
“From the picture, it seems her eyes are darker than mine, and being female, no one would make the leap.”
“I suppose not,” she said in a soft voice. “I can hardly manage it, and I knew you. But how did you avoid everyone you know?”
“Glamouring, teleporting, and time jumping throughout the world. It was a helluva lot easier after staging my death.”
“That’s why you spent so long here, wasn’t it? You were using my home to hide,” Beth concluded.
“Primarily, yes, but I also enjoyed your company, or I wouldn’t have stayed. It happens to be close to where my best friend lives, and it allowed me to keep tabs on him from afar.”
“Yet you never thought to check up on me afterward?” she asked without a hint of the bitterness one would expect.
“I did, actually, but I didn’t want to lead anyone to your door. You were safer without me around.”
She watched him for a long beat, as if to test his sincerity. Finally, she nodded and held out her hand. “Come. I want to tell you about her life and her boyfriend, Wilder.”
“I’ve recently met him. Turns out, he’s a cousin to that best friend I mentioned.”
She smiled a moment before her heartbreak seeped through. “He’s in a worse state than I am, if you can believe it.”
“Yes, I saw for myself,” Alex said as he entered the foyer and cataloged the changes four decades had wrought.
His gaze swept the family room, and the pictures nestled on the mantle beckoned.
He drank in all the images of Abbie at various stages of life.
“Why didn’t her magic evolve, Beth? You and I are both witches. Did you bind her powers?”
“No. And I never understood it either. We tried everything we could to bring them out, even enlisting the aid of a local coven.”
A picture of young Abbie gracing the camera with a gap-toothed grin was his favorite of the bunch, and he traced her face with a finger. “She’s beautiful.”
“Have you looked in the mirror?” Beth replied dryly.
He chuckled and spontaneously hugged her. “Thank you. It’s easy to tell she was loved and well cared for.”
“She was my everything, Alex.” Raw honesty shone on her face. “I’ve been so broken for the last two years.”
“I have a special talent and very powerful friends, love. If Abbie can be returned to you and Wilder, I’ll make it happen.”
Wilder spent the afternoon tying up legal loose ends. He wanted to ensure his will was in order in case things went sideways. After visiting his mother and younger brothers, Heath and Coleman, he paid a call on his sister, Liz.
She opened the door with a broad smile, but it faded in slow increments.
“Wilder? What’s going on? Are you okay?”
He snorted as he crossed the threshold. “I haven’t been okay for two years, Liz. But I have news.”
“What is it?” she asked as she led the way to the kitchen.
Wilder wasn’t surprised to see her husband, Rafe, at the counter with a glass of wine and a laptop. Ever the diligent businessman, he barely looked up as he toasted them.
“Wine or coffee?” she asked Wilder.
“Coffee, please. I still have a few things requiring my attention.”
After starting a fresh pot, Liz faced him. “You don’t ever seek anyone out. Start talking.”
He couldn’t prevent the grin. His little sister was born bossy.
“Maybe I’ve turned over a new leaf and have become social again.”
“Right, and pigs fly.” She withdrew a couple of hand-thrown pottery mugs from the cabinet before adding, “But if you’ve suddenly rejoined the world, I’m happy for it.”
Wilder waited until she filled the cups and handed him one.
“I’m going back to the mountain to search for Abbie.”
“What?” She shared a horrified glance with Rafe, then refocused on him. “Wilder, what the hell are you doing? You know I love you and want to see you happy, but this has reached so far past the obsession stage that it isn’t healthy.”
“I spoke to Alexander Castor today. He’s Cousin Alastair’s friend—”
“I know who he is,” she said with an impatient wave. “Did he convince you to do this? The man’s a wildcard. Do you know he—”
Wilder captured her hand mid-flutter. “Liz. Please.”
“Okay. Fine. Tell me.”
And so he explained about Abbie and Castor’s relationship, the dream that wasn’t a dream, and how Abbie’s newfound father intended to help uncover her whereabouts.
“Wow.” She looked as stunned as he’d felt when the Traveler first opened Ebba’s door. “That’s a lot to take in, but if anyone can alter time and save her, it would be him.”
“I thought the same, and I have to try.”
Shaking her head, Liz said, “I can’t believe this. But let me get this straight. Ebba channeled Abbie in some alternate timeline? Which you believe is, what, the Wild West?”
Her brow was furrowed as she tried to fit the pieces together.
“Something like that,” he replied. “It’s possible, under the high-stress fall, her powers manifested. If they did and she doesn’t know how to control them, she could be stuck in the past.”
“But why wouldn’t she have found a way to contact you? Left a note for you to find or something?”
He smiled wryly. “Ebba asked much the same thing.”
“Because she’s smart. And what did you answer?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t remember how you answered her, or you don’t know how to answer me?” she asked tartly, raising a brow.
“My kid sister, always the wiseass.” He sipped his coffee as he considered her question with a clearer mind.
“If Abbie’s timeline is similar to ours and two years have passed, it’s possible she made the best of a bad situation and moved on.
Maybe she met someone and created a life there if she couldn’t get back. ”
“Oh, Wilder.”
“Yeah. I may have to accept she doesn’t love me anymore, but I can’t rest until she tells me herself.”
Liz covered his hand with hers and squeezed. “You forget, I’ve seen you two together. Abbie isn’t a woman who would move on easily. You’re made for each other.”
“I’ve always thought so. But maybe not. We don’t know what she’s gone through.
Despair does strange things to a person.
” His voice held a catch, but he wasn’t embarrassed by his intense emotions.
His sister would understand. She had fallen in love with Rafe while on vacation, only to have him disappear one morning.
It had taken four years for the two of them to reconnect, and their romance hadn’t gone smoothly.
She knew what loss and separation felt like.
Hell, their mutual enemy was the one responsible for taking down the Thornes’ magic the day Abbie fell, making it impossible for Wilder to save her.
“I’m not sure,” she replied. “But for a good ninety-five percent of us, it works out.”
He met her sorrowful gaze and could tell she believed he fell into the pitiful five-percent category.
“Do you have anything stronger to drink?” he asked.
“I do, but I’m not giving you a crutch to lean on. It’s taken until now for you to visit my home, and you’ll remain sober, brother mine.”
“Nag.” He turned his hand over, weaving his fingers with hers. “Thank you for caring, sister mine.”
“You’ve always looked out for me, growing up. Of course, I care.”
“Would you like us to join in your search?” Rafe asked. He’d been quiet and thoughtful the entire conversation, as was his way, but he was always willing to assist whenever he could.
“While I appreciate the offer, I’m going to let Castor take the lead on this one. She’s his daughter, and if all else fails, he can cast a blood-to-blood location spell.”
“Those are always useful,” Rafe replied dryly.
Wilder chuckled. Once again, he was surprised by how much lighter he felt. Perhaps it was finally taking action after so long, or maybe his once-inherent optimism was returning. Either way, the burgeoning hope felt good.
“That’s the first time I’ve seen you crack a smile in over two years,” Liz said tearfully.
He hugged her, holding on for dear life. If he didn’t, he’d likely break down, too. When Liz patted his back, he kissed her temple, cleared his throat, and released her.
“As soon as I find Abbie, I won’t be able to stop smiling,” he promised.
“Then I hope you return with her immediately.” Liz shot him a watery grin.
“Me, too.” He hesitated, then forged on with what he’d originally come to say. “If I don’t make it back—”
“Wilder—”
“Liz.”
She sighed in resignation but didn’t interrupt again.
“If I don’t make it back, I want you to be the executor of my will. The bulk of my estate can go to charity, but I have a few collectibles I’d like to pass on to the proper people. Can you do that for me?”
She nodded, lips compressed as if she wanted to argue the outcome of his journey. He appreciated her restraint. There was a time, before Rafe’s influence, when she’d have read him the riot act.
“You are the best sister a person could hope for. I’ve been blessed to have you in my life.”
“Don’t talk like you aren’t returning,” she ordered, unable to hide her unease.
“I don’t know what we’ll be facing. And from what Laszlo has told me, I may have to leave my body to cross through time with Castor. The process is risky as fuck.”
A sickly expression settled on Liz’s normally serene visage. “Goddess, I hope not. I forgot he had to do that to save Ebba.”
“Yeah. I didn’t, but I’m willing to try whatever it takes.”
“What if you don’t find her, Wilder? What then?”
“I don’t want to think about a life without her, Liz. It’s too dismal to consider.”
“When is all this happening?” she asked.
“Tomorrow morning. We’re going to the mountain.”
“Wilder! That place is dangerous!”
“Not for those with magic in their back pocket,” he said, giving her a careless grin.
“Need I remind you our abilities failed once?” she snapped. “I—”
“Qalbi, stop.” Rafe wrapped her in a hug. “Your brother knows what he’s doing and doesn’t need you adding your worry to the mix.”
She rewarded him with a vicious arm pinch. “Don’t manage me.”
“That’s not what you said last night—oomph!” He doubled over slightly as her elbow found its mark, a grin still tugging at his lips.
“On that note, I’m outta here,” Wilder said with a laugh. “You two try not to kill each other, okay?”
“Be safe! And call us as soon as you’re home!” she hollered after his retreating back.