Page 12 of Boundless Magic

Straightening his tie, Alastair shot him a dirty look. “Bite your tongue, man!”

“Mama? Are you okay?” Spring asked.

Aurora shook her head slowly, as if waking from a dream. “Yes. Yes, of course. I… The resemblance is extraordinary, isn’t it?”

“Only if I failed to groom myself for weeks on end,” Alastair answered with an arch look.

With a suddenness that surprised them all, Aurora laughed. Its light musical quality was a joy to listen to, and LJ once again looked like he’d been punched upside the head.

“I suppose you’re sorry you never met my mother in your world,” Autumn said with a small smile.

“But I have. She’s my wife.”

“Wait, what? I thought you said she married my father on the other side? That they…” She cast a look at her dad and grimaced, not wanting to reveal the death of his alternate-reality twin. “You said your wife’s name is Angelica.”

“Yes. Angelica Fennell,” LJ replied. “Her parents visited the States when she was a teenager. I was smitten from the start.”

“So who was Aurora Fennell to you?” Alastair asked in confusion.

“My sister-in-law. Angelica’s youngest sibling who remained in England with her father’s family.”

“I only have a brother,” Rorie said with a frown.

“You have no brother in my world.”

Keaton shook his head, for the first time taking a good look at the newcomer in their midst. “I’m so goddamned confused.”

“Right. You weren’t here for that part. Lumberjack Alastair came walking out of the woods when Uncle Al and I were calling Isis. He’s who came to our side when our kids went through the portal,” Autumn explained, rubbing the spot between her brows to dispel the forming headache. It was all too fucking much. She just wanted her kids home safe.

Doing a head count, she said, “We have enough to open the portal. Let’s get the things we need.”

8

Keaton went with Alastair and Lumberjack Al to Thorne Industries, and it occurred to him that this was his first visit to the business. It felt odd that he’d never been there, considering it was a constant topic of conversation in the months leading up to Aurora Fennell-Thorne’s resurrection.

The place resembled any modernized industrial building, and from the outside, anyone passing by would think it was a standard company, with its mirrored floor-to-ceiling windows and enormous parking lot. Stepping inside, it seemed no different than any mortal corporation. However, Keaton knew what the unsuspecting didn’t. Underneath this building was a giant vault containing magical artifacts held in trust for the Witches’ Council.

Nash Thorne, Alastair’s son, worked for the Council, and when he took over Thorne Industries upon Alastair’s retirement, he’d turned the place into a stronghold. Something Alastair never would’ve done inanyincarnation. This was made fact by the distasteful expression on LJ’s countenance as he surveyed his surroundings inside the vault.

“My sentiments exactly,” Alastair said aloud. “All these lovely items going to waste.”

His roughneck twin chuckled, and the sound was opposite Alastair’s unique bark-like laugh. Autumn had once told him her uncle had a hard life and little amusement as an adult. Clearly, the same couldn’t be said for the alternate-reality version. Without the enemies and wars, his life had probably been fairly strife-free.

“Sperm Donor.”

LJ’s dark-blond brows shot up as they turned to find Nash Thorne lounging in the doorway of the secret vault. Although similar in appearance to his father, his expression was less arrogant. Blond with classical features, he bore the same old-Hollywood flare. Lent to his stunning looks was a fluidity of movement, as if he didn’t hurry for anyone.

But there, the resemblance ended. Keaton knew Nash to be more studious, perhaps a bit absent-minded when he fell into his research. The man was also inherently kind, whereas Alastair didn’t suffer fools. Keaton couldn’t say he’d ever seen the elder Thorne be purposely cruel, unless it was to an enemy, but the guy would just as soon smite a person as let them roam free to strike again.

In that, they were similar. Keaton had learned to set aside any squeamishness when it came to those trying to hurt his family. His first instinct wasn’t one of kill or be killed, but he’d definitely incapacitate someone until he discovered their motives. Autumn usually beat him to it, though.

“Son.” Heavy humor hung in Alastair’s tone. For most of their lives, he and Nash had been at odds. Mostly his son’s doing. However, in recent years, they’d strengthened their familial bond, and their taunts were more lighthearted, meant to tease.

“What brings you by today? Not satisfied with the way I’m running the place?” Nash asked him, sending a curious look Keaton’s way. He straightened when he glimpsed the third person in their party, and his face arrested in surprise. “Holy sh—uh, crap!”

“He cursed, too?” LJ murmured.

“Yep,” Keaton said with a light laugh. “He has the ability to call trash pandas with a single swear word.”

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