Cuckoo in the Coven
Sunny’s eyes smarted, and she blinked the tears away. If this was just a dream, she knew she’d awake heartbroken. Because there was something magical happening here. Not the bizarreness of this situation, the time slip, or the surreal happenings in the marketplace—it was the way he was looking at her, and the way it made her feel. Sunny decided in that
moment she could stare into his eyes forever, especially when he was holding her, and promising to stand by her side.
Was this magic? Undeniably, yes. Could it last more than the length of a dream? Of that she wasn’t so sure. But she couldn’t deny this whole experience was beyond her knowledge and her beliefs, and something very special was happening to her.
She leaned in and kissed his mouth.
His lips were strong and passionate, and his arms went around her, making her melt. Sunny wished again, wished for him, forever, her eyes closing while she savored his embrace.
Right then a strange sound made her jump—the sound of someone clapping. A long, slow clap.
They drew apart.
Both of them turned toward the entrance of the cave, where a tall man in a long cloak now stood, taking in the sight of them entwined in an embrace, with a sardonic smile on his face.
“What a touching scene,” he commented, looking from one to the other of them. He grasped the hem of his cloak with one hand and threw it back over his shoulder, revealing his old-fashioned garb. Focusing his attention on Sunny, he inclined his head. “I commend your burgeoning magic, Sunny Chambers. You truly are Hanna’s granddaughter.”
Sunny stared at him in disbelief.
She blinked, her grip on reality sliding away again, because the man standing at the cave entrance—talking to her as if he knew her well—was the one and only Viscount Fox, and the last time she’d seen him had been in the marketplace. But the time before had been at home, the day before, in 2020, on the street outside The Witch’s Brew Cafe.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Nathaniel, my old friend.” Cullen stood up and strode to the newcomer’s side, shaking his hand and slapping him on the shoulder with his free hand. ““Tis good to see you again.”
Sunny stared at the newcomer in shock. It really was the man she’d seen in the crowded marketplace earlier, when they were hurrying away. The one who smiled at her so knowingly. But more than that, she recognized him from earlier still.
“Viscount Fox,” she said, astonished and confused, trying to make sense of it. As she did, she recalled what Celeste and Willow had said about him, the warning they’d issued. But this version of Viscount was different. He was dressed in old-fashioned clothing like Cullen, and his hair hung to his shoulders. It was thick and dark, with no grey strands at the temples. An astonishing fact clicked into place; it was the man who’d been on the landing in the cottage the night before. He was the one who’d brought Cullen to the cottage.
Icy fingers ran up her spine. She rose to her feet and stared at him. He was a disconcerting presence, with his strange silvering eyes and his predatory nature. He gave her the heebie-jeebies, making her wary and defensive.
“Greetings, Ms Chambers.” The newcomer swept a low bow, his cloak flying out to one side as he did so. There was a sarcastic tone to his greeting and Sunny’s wariness intensified.
“You know one another?” Cullen looked from one to the other. His expression lit. “Of course you do. Nathaniel arranged for you to be there at the cottage.”
Cullen was trying to make sense of his own angle. But he had completely the wrong end of the stick, Sunny quickly decided. She’d been at the cottage for her own reasons—or had she? Doubt swamped her. Not only had she heard this creepy guy’s name before, he was the person who’d sent Celeste and Willow into a flutter.
“You’re Fox, and we’ve seen one another before, in my time.” The words were out before she’d thought it through.
“We have indeed. Well remembered, Sunny.”
“What are you, some sort of Timelord?”
He chuckled darkly, as if delighted by her remark. “A Timelord is a fictional construct of the twentieth century. This, I’m afraid, is reality.”
“This is real,” Sunny repeated, finally accepting it completely, hard though it was. God knows it felt all too real now. She was beginning to doubt her sanity. “But Cullen didn’t know.”
She looked at Cullen.
He looked baffled, but wary, and he was listening carefully. “Nathaniel, what strangeness goes on here? What is this ‘time lord’ you mention?”
“Don’t bother yourself with this misapprehension. Your companion thinks I’m a Timelord, but she’s mistaken. The more correct term would be...immortal.”
Sunny’s jaw dropped.
“Nathaniel, speak plainly, man,” Cullen demanded. “You jest, surely?”
Fox lifted his hands nonchalantly. “I see no reason to disguise myself here, amongst friends—old and new—as we are.” A devilish smile played around his mouth. “I have traded various...things...for my longevity, amongst other aptitudes I now possess.”