Once Upon an Irritatingly Magical Kiss by Bree Wolf

Chapter Forty-Five

A Flickering Light

Thorne all but felt the shot reverberate within his bones. His body jerked, and he stared at where the bullet had torn through Mr. Sullivan’s throat…only inches from Mrs. Miller’s face.

Without a thought, he thrust the torch into Christina’s hands and then dashed forward as he watched Mr. Sullivan’s eyes widened in shock, his hand tensing upon the blade while his other clamped around Mrs. Miller’s arm. The man’s legs were giving out as blood flowed from the wound in his throat.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Drake charging forward as well. Yet Thorne reached the few steps leading up to the door first. Vaulting toward the man who had kidnapped his daughter, Thorne grasped his arm before the knife could dig any deeper into Mrs. Miller’s throat. He twisted the blade out of the man’s hand as Drake grasped the woman’s arms and pulled her away.

Mr. Sullivan went down like a felled tree, his eyes wide as his breath gurgled with blood, then ceased.

“Where is my daughter?” Thorne yelled as he knelt down and grabbed the man by his shirt front. “Where is she?”

“She…She’s not here,” panted Mrs. Miller, her face pale as she clutched one hand to the cut on her throat. Drake’s hands were still holding her upright before he reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.

Thorne surged to his feet. “Where is she? What did you do?”

Christina came bounding up the stairs, the rest of her family following close behind, her eyes wide, fearful as she rushed to his side. “Sam?”

Thorne shook his head and turned to Mrs. Miller. She pressed Drake’s handkerchief against her throat and then drew in a careful breath. “He fell asleep,” she whispered, casting a hesitant look at the body at her feet. “He had bolted the door, but there’s a small window in the back. I helped her slip out and told her to run.”

Thorne breathed a sigh of relief; yet it was a premature reaction, was it not? After all, his daughter was far from safe. She was out in the forest at night all by herself. Where could she have gone?

“I’m so very sorry for what happened,” Mrs. Miller sobbed, exhaustion repeatedly closing her eyes as she fought to remain conscious. “I never meant for this to happen. I never thought he would ever do such a thing.” She shook her head, a deep frown coming to her face. “He was so angry and kept muttering, ‘He said this would be easy’. He threatened my son, and I—” She suddenly froze before her free hand shot forward and grasped Thorne’s jacket. “How is he?” Fear stood in her eyes: the same kind of fear Thorne felt in his own heart. Fear for her child. “Is he a-alive?”

Thorne nodded, grateful to be able to put the woman’s fears to rest. “He is well. He has a bump on his head, but he is well.”

Closing her eyes, Mrs. Miller almost went down as her knees gave out. “He is well,” she mumbled over and over again as Thorne held her. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know…” Tears stood in her eyes as she looked at him and then at Christina. “I’m so very sorry.”

Drake stepped forward then and eased the shaking woman out of Thorne’s arms. His gaze met Leonora’s, and she nodded, moving toward him. Settling the softly sobbing woman into his wife’s arms, Drake then headed back down the few steps and looked from the duke to Phineas, to Troy and then to his father-in-law. “The girl slipped out the back. Let’s fan out and find her.”

The others nodded and did as he had instructed, their torches held high as they began calling Samantha’s name. Harriet joined in.

Thorne brushed a hand over his face before he, too, headed out.

“Wait!” Christina called, hastening to catch up with him. “I’ll come, too.”

Together, they walked through the darkened forest, their torch illuminating the path ahead. “We should move to the back of the cabin!” Thorne called to the others. “For she slipped out the back window.” Murmurs drifted to his ears, and he spotted the others turn in a similar direction, the soft glow of their torches pointing them out. “If she’s nearby though,” Thorne whispered to his wife as she clung to his arm, “why is she not answering?”

For a moment, Christina remained silent. Then she looked up at him. “We don’t know how long ago she slipped out the window, how much ground she managed to cover.” She inhaled a deep breath, one that rang with hope. “Perhaps she simply cannot hear us.”

Thorne nodded, his eyes sweeping from side to side and down to the ground as though he were afraid he would accidentally step on her. Where could she be? His gaze drifted to the horizon…or to where it should be. The night was far too dark, not even a sliver of light granted by the night sky as it lay hidden from them by the thick foliage of the forest. Only their torch illuminated the next few steps ahead. Where could she be?

Suddenly, Christina pulled up short, and he jerked to a halt as well, turning around to look at her. “What is it?” he asked as he held the torch higher to see her face.

In the warm orange glow from the torch, he could see a strange look come to her face. It was somewhat hesitant, and yet he recognized the whisper of awe that touched her eyes. “Fairies,” Christina whispered, and the corners of her mouth tugged upward as though she wanted to smile.

Thorne frowned. “What?”

Her eyes moved to him, and this time, she did smile. “Fairies.” Her right arm stretched out and pointed up ahead, her eyes following. “Look!”

Moving his attention from his wife to the terrain up ahead, Thorne paused, for a moment confused as to what she was pointing out to him. What had she seen? There was nothing there but darkness. He was about to turn back to her and ask for an explanation when he paused.

Up ahead, in the far distance, he thought to see…a light. Not only one, but many. They were dancing, fluttering about like…fairies. “Fireflies.”

“Yes!” Christina exclaimed beside him, her arm squeezing his ever tighter. “In the dark, she would’ve seen them, would she not?” She looked up at him, and he turned to meet her eyes. “Perhaps she remembered my story.”

Although he was fearful to allow it, Thorne could not help the hope that surged through his heart at her words. “Perhaps she went in that direction. Come.” Pulling his wife closer, he held up the torch, and together, they moved toward the dancing lights.