Maverick follows. “What’s going on?”
Gatlin hesitates, but when I squeeze his hand, he relents. “Jamison is in trouble. Hawthorne said he’s in some kind of magical stasis and not responding to him.”
Maverick tenses. “I don’t like the sound of this. Jamison’s powerful. Nobody should be able to put him on ice. We’re all going.”
The air issilent and still when we arrive at Carrington Manor. Completely dark with not a single light shining. No cars in the driveway. If we didn’t know Jamison was here, we wouldn’t think to look inside.
Standing three stories tall, the imposing building appears almost ominous in the darkness of night. Built during the 1500s, the paned windows and elaborate spires should give the Elizabethan home grandeur and elegance, but all I get is an eerie feeling in the pit of my stomach.
The windows covering the front appear watchful, as if the house is a sleeping giant, waiting to swallow us whole. As I hold my hand out toward the house, the hair on my arms stands up. Magic buzzes freely, meeting the palm of my hand with a ferocious snap.
Charlie and I exchange glances, then I glance at Gatlin. “There’s a lot of magic in the house. More than just a ward or barrier to overcome. Something is definitely going on.”
Maverick squints at the house. “I sense two people inside and neither of them appears to be moving.”
“Based on Hawthorne’s voicemail, one is likely Jamison, but who is the other? Could Hawthorne have gone inside without us?” I worriedly ask Gatlin.
“I’m here,” Hawthorne says from behind me.
I whirl around and watch as the tall, broad-shouldered Elven prince steps out of the trunk of a nearby tree, looking incredibly well despite the worried look in his sea-green eyes. Even the white streak in his hair that he got from his magic burn out has been replaced with silky mahogany strands. His intense gaze locks on me, scanning my face before his attention turns to Gatlin.
I continue to stare at him. Instead of the sweet, inquisitive looks I’m used to, his face is blank. A stranger instead of the wonderful man who almost sacrificed his magic for me.
This last week with Gatlin was easy. So easy that for the briefest of seconds, I shoved Hawthorne’s hurt to the back of my mind. A temporary way to deal with my own feelings. But it all comes back, crashing over me like a tidal wave. My chest tightens at the thought of him hating me, even the tiniest bit. I wouldn’t blame him. If he were the person responsible for tearing me away from my family, I’d find it hard to forgive him too. It sucks, though. I long to step into his arms and have him hold me. Instead, I wrap my arms around my midsection.
Gatlin looks from him to me and back, then shakes his head. He clasps arms with Hawthorne, then jerks his head toward the house. “Besides Jamison, who’s in the house?”
One mahogany brow rises, and Hawthorne gives a slight shake of his head. “I don’t know. The only person I could see through the window earlier was Jamison, but there were quite a few other voices. Are you saying they’re gone now?”
Maverick nods. “Probably took a portal.”
“This might be our best shot,” Gatlin says, scanning the house. “Hawthorne and I will take the front. Maverick and Charlie, the rear. Our goal is to first secure Jamison. Once we see who the other person is, we’ll figure out whether we need to help or detain them. Got it?”
I glare at him. “Fine. I’ll go with Charlie and Maverick.”
Maverick chuckles, and Charlie elbows him in the stomach.
Gatlin, of course, glares at me. “Why can’t you stay here where it’s safe?”
Hawthorne steps forward. “She’s safest with us. There’s a vibration out here, disturbing the land around the house. I don’t like it.” He doesn’t even turn in my direction when he gives the order. “Stay between us at all times.”
Ouch. At least I’m going. I step closer to Hawthorne and see his hand drift toward me before he shoves it into the pocket of his pants.
“Fine. Let’s go,” Gatlin growls.
Hawthorne pulls a leaf from his pocket and drops it to the ground in front of us, creating a portal, while Charlie’s portal appears out of thin air. Maverick’s hands are already up and prepared to fight when they step in and disappear.
Hawthorne’s hand curls around my hip like a brand as he silently moves me into position between him and Gatlin as we step into his portal.
A massive, arched oak door greets us on the other side. Framed by two stone pillars and topped with leaded windows, the imposing entrance speaks of power and prestige. Gatlin’s large hands press firmly against the solid wood until it moves, slowing opening to reveal what’s beyond. We all tense. Too easy. As if someone had left the door open just for us. It doesn’t matter. Gatlin steps inside with me. I follow him, and Hawthorne brings up the rear.
The grand foyer is dark and bare. The only object in the space is a bust on a nearby table. We look past it to the long, dark hallway beyond. I can feelsomethingin the air. Hawthorne conjures a small ball of light, and we cautiously move farther into the house. Magic sparks around us, more like a warning than a full-on attack, but still, I don’t like it. Anyone or anything could be hiding in these shadows. My head swivels from side to side, trying to see into the darkness.
Damn it.Uneasy, I draw the gun from my back holster and palm my knife in the other hand.
A soft glow appears to my right and left, casting more light on each side, and I exhale quietly in relief. Smiling, I look back to silently thank my benefactor. Hawthorne never looks down. I know he’s aware of my stare, but not once do his eyes meet mine. My smile fades, and I sadly turn back to the front.
It’s not as if I’m not aware of his feelings. I square my shoulders. There’s no point in dwelling on it. The only way to fixthis is to find the panels and, hopefully, offer him and Mathias a way home.
