Page 25 of Boundless Magic

Reaching across Keaton’s shoulder, his daughter accepted the offered hand and apology. “Thank you, Miss Spring.”

Gothica’s smile widened. “Let’s go find your family.”

As they trudged through the woods, Keaton thought about how bizarrely different their two worlds were. Pondered how their alternate-reality counterparts could be so drastic in personality from those on their side, to the point of leaving children to survive on their own without help. It was sad.

Chloe’s arms tightened, warning him of trouble, and he shifted to shoot her a questioning look. Turning his head to the left, he noticed his doppelganger leaning drunkenly against a tree. As Keaton paused, so did the other man, and the beer bottle in his hand was suspended mid drink. His face was bloated from excess, and his blue eyes were flat.

“What did he say to you, midge?”

“He told me to stop crying like a baby and get lost. He called me Rachel. Like Miss Spring.”

Setting her on the ground, he curled a hand around her nape and drew her close. After pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he said, “Stay here, sweetheart. I’m going to have a word with myself.”

Gothica’s grin transformed her pretty face to stunningly beautiful, and Keaton realized what had been missing: her twin’s sweet, fun-loving personality. With a wink in her direction, he headed off toward the asshole version of himself.

“Hey, dickhead,” he said in a patently false friendly tone.

The Neanderthal Keaton scowled and straightened from holding the tree up. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Father of the little girl you were a fucking asshole to, and I’d like to talk to you about that.”

Without another word, Keaton clocked him.

17

Finding Jolyon wasn’t difficult. Autumn simply followed his bellows until she caught sight of his light. A woman, the replica of her mother, was squatting next to him, dangling a half-peeled banana and trying to soothe him. When she caught sight of Autumn, wariness took the place of the stress stamped on her classical features.

“Oh! It’s you. I’m not certain who the little guy is, but I’ve been trying to charm him for the last few hours. Initially, it worked, but I’m afraid he requires food and a nap.”

Her accent was an odd combination of British and American, and her long black hair was swept back in a French braid. She also wore no makeup, but it didn’t detract from her natural beauty or her peaches-and-cream complexion. Autumn experienced an odd vertigo from seeing her mother’s clone.

“He dislikes bananas,” Autumn replied inanely. A feeling of embarrassment began to take hold as she stared at Angelica Thorne. A good mother would’ve seen to her child first, but all Autumn could do was stare. Seeing this carbon copy of her mother was disconcerting.

“And he’s made it bloody well known,” Angelica replied with a weary grimace. “I’m not sure how you would know that, though, Autumn. Or whyyouof all people should care.” Coldness crept into the other woman’s tone, and oddly, it stung to be misjudged by a person whose twin she adored beyond measure.

“I’m not who you believe me to be. I’m?—”

“Mama! Mama!” Jolly screamed, flailing his arms in her direction. “Mama!”

His cry broke the spell holding her in place. Rushing forward, Autumn scooped him into her arms, holding tight to his compact body and breathing in the scent of his sweaty hair.

“Hey, fry guy. Mama’s here. Mama’s here.” Tears stung the back of her closed lids, and she silently vowed to do better. Swore to protect him from incidents like this in the future. “I’m sorry, Jolly. Mama’s sorry you were lost.”

“Who are you, if not Autumn Carlyle?” Angelica asked. Some of her icy disdain had disappeared, having been replaced by curiosity.

“Actually, IamAutumn Carlyle, but not from your world. Right now, I don’t have time to explain, but just know I brought LJ back to you.”

“LJ?”

“She’s been calling me that since we met, darlin’,” he said as he approached. With a humorous glance in Autumn’s direction, he grinned. “She said the flannel makes me look like a lumberjack.”

“I had to call him something other than Alastair. It would’ve been too confusing otherwise.”

“Why?” Angelica asked after kissing her husband’s bearded jaw.

“Him.” LJ gestured to Dapper Alastair, who stood about ten feet away, watching the scene with a fascinated expression. “The alternate-reality version of myself.”

But Angelica’s attention wasn’t caught by Alastair, and instead, she was focused on the people beside him—Preston, Spring, Nash, and Aurora.

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