As usual, my father greeted the heads of the two families with cool cordiality before welcoming them into our home. He didn’t like them, and they didn’t like him. Still, we were the protector covens, and together we guarded the Gate and celebrated the Sabbats like one big, extended, dysfunctional family.
But unlike our parents, the children they had produced didn’t follow the established tradition of intolerance among the different types of magic. Though we tried to keep it from our parents, we liked each other well enough. Well, except for Mason and Miranda Proctor. The same went for Pierce and Miranda’s brother, Adam. When we were younger, they used to be close. Now, they could barely stand to be in the same room with each other. Once, I asked Pierce what had happened, but he’d told me to “mind my own fucking business.” I never brought it up again.
“Should I set this up at the usual spot?” Adam Proctor asked, holding up a triangular table that would serve as the altar for their dead. He was the oldest of his witchy siblings, with eyes so light blue they were almost gray. He wore black pants and a white button-down that made him look like a waiter.
“Yeah, same place as last year,” I answered with a nod down the hall to the library.
Edith and Elliot Stonewall, one of the sets of twin wizards, followed Adam, carrying their altar between them. They were in Mason’s class at high school. Elliot, who was mute, smiled at me as he passed in his gray corduroy pants and beige shirt. Even though he couldn’t speak, he used his telepathy to hold a conversation. The problem was it usually resulted in a migraine for whomever he chatted with. He was a sweet guy, and we used to study together at the library. His sister took a little getting used to. She had on a long skirt and frilly blouse in the exact same color scheme as her brother’s, but she didn’t bother to acknowledge me. She was a typical gray-magic wizard, aloof and coldly logical. She and I had at least that much in common.
“You seem distracted.”
I turned to find Charlotte Proctor standing behind me. The glint in her brown eyes matched the friendly smile on her lips. As always, she wore modest clothing—white blouse and a long yellow skirt—unlike her younger sister, Miranda, who preferred a more seductive appearance. Charlotte was the friendliest of the Proctor coven and one of the nicest people I knew. She was also a middle child like I was, so the two of us had often commiserated about the inherent joys of being bookended by siblings who irritated us.
“I am,” I reluctantly admitted.
“What have your brothers done now?” she asked, brushing a stray bang out of her eyes.
“Just their usual teasing,” I said. My gaze drifted from Charlotte to Ben, who was in the middle of introducing himself to Charlotte’s parents in the living room. “But it’s not them. It’s him,” I said gesturing toward Ben.
She casually stole a glance behind her. “He’s cute. No wonder you’re distracted.” Besides sharing our sibling woes, Charlotte was the only person in Havenbridge with any knowledge about my personal life. She knew I dated both men and women, and she had never let on to anyone that she knew more than she did.
I always appreciated her discretion. “It’s not that.”
She crossed her arms and glared up at me.
“Okay, it’s not
just
that.”
“Then what?”
I told her the story of how Ben and I had met and how he’d come to Havenbridge.
“I’ll admit it’s a big coincidence, but what about it has you so irritated?”
“It doesn’t feel right.” That didn’t quite express what I was feeling. It felt all kinds of wrong.
Charlotte placed her hand on my forearm and patted me, trying to give me the comfort I needed. She had always been a mother hen. “I think you might be reading too much into this,” she said. “After everything we’ve been through since Mabon, it’s no wonder. Vampyre attacks and a mysterious shadow weaver.”
“Not to mention the Conclave’s complete incompetence dealing with those situations,” I added.
She inhaled sharply. Like a good little soldier, Charlotte followed whatever our superiors said. If they told us not to worry, she didn’t. If they told us to jump off a bridge, she’d leap over the railing. The wizards were the same way. For being so logical, they were far too trusting of the Conclave’s motives.
Warlocks didn’t blindly follow anyone. Not anymore. Not since Bartram Kane.
“Anyway,” she said, completely sidestepping my insult of her precious Conclave, “you and your family have been through a lot. You almost died. It makes sense you’d be constantly looking over your shoulder.”
Was that what I was being? Overly cautious? I hadn’t acted that way with Aiden in the woods. Maybe Charlotte was right.
“So what you’re saying is I need to take a chill pill?”
“That would be a start,” she said with a grin. “You’ve always been too serious for your own good. Let your hair down every now and then.”
I glared at her. “Why do people keep telling me that?”
“Maybe it’s because we can all see you’re wound tighter than a jittery Chihuahua.”
I frowned at the analogy. I considered myself more of a German shepherd, cautious and alert. I was
not
a temperamental yelper!
She gently shoved me in Ben’s direction. “Go talk to him,” she said. He’d just finished being introduced to Kate and Keaton, the younger Stonewall twins. Their big white smiles beamed against the ebony skin they’d inherited from their father. “Get to know him with clothes on. That might make you feel better.”
I did need to get to know him better but not how Charlotte thought I should. Ben presented yet another mystery I needed to solve.
I made my way over to where Ben chatted with Mrs. Stonewall, and his dark eyes drifted over to me. A huge smile hitched up his lips. My heart fluttered and familiar warmth spread in my groin.
“I WAS
beginning to think you were ignoring me,” Ben said after I’d interrupted his conversation with Mrs. Stonewall and escorted him into the kitchen. It had taken me a few moments and half a dozen deep breaths to get my hormones under control. I stood with the granite counter between us, because that was the only way I wasn’t going to grab him and bend him over.
Undeterred, Ben rounded the island until only a few inches separated us.
The overwhelming scent of copper slammed into me as he leaned closer, a naughty smile dangling from his perfectly symmetrical lips. He was clearly angling for another round of sweaty fun, and as the overpowering metallic aroma that hung about him filled my lungs, the more I craved his flesh on mine, my tongue on his neck, and my dick in his ass.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to regain focus.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. My tone was more biting than I intended, but at least I was no longer remembering the warm tightness of Ben’s hole.
Ben stepped back, a strange look on his face, as if my sudden restraint was unexpected. Not that it surprised me that much. Ben struck me as a warlock who was used to getting his way. Still, he put a respectful distance between us and leaned against the island. He pulled the chain with the green pendant out of his shirt and fidgeted with the stone. “I’m here on business with your brother, but you already knew that.” He paused, studying me. “What’s going on?”
“How long have you been working with Pierce?”
He strummed his fingers across the counter in thought. “A few weeks. I recently acquired a software company in California, and your brother approached me about buying me out. It seems that Blackmoor Enterprises is interested in snatching up what I have to offer.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Kinda like you yesterday.” He paused, studying me with a knowing half grin as he fingered the emerald encased in gold. “And if I’m right, you’re ready for a bit more too.”
I forced the sensual curve of his lips from my mind and focused on his words. I’d heard Pierce and Dad talking about an electronics company in Silicon Valley a few weeks ago. They had a computer chip that was supposed to revolutionize the industry. “And you didn’t know who I was when we met yesterday?”
“No, I didn’t.” He stared at me as if I’d just thrown a bucket of water on him. The cocksure demeanor vanished as if it had never been there. “Just what are you accusing me of?”
That was a good question. Why was I acting like a conspiracy theorist? “I guess I find your sudden presence here too coincidental for my liking.”
Ben’s lips parted in the smile that he’d first flashed at me over his coffee. It made my head spin. “That’s right,” he said, once again drawing closer to me. “You’re tightly wound. Like a Chihuahua.”
I crossed my arms. If one more person compared me to that rat breed of a dog, they’d find themselves turned into a permanent ice sculpture. “You don’t know me well enough to make such an unflattering observation.”
“Maybe not,” he answered. He leaned against the island and ran his index finger along my forearm. I held my breath as his touch sent chills down my spine. “But I remember how you responded to my suggestion of going back to your place. Way too serious and responsible to cut loose and have fun.”
“Then why did I fuck you stupid after you showed up at my place?” I asked with one raised eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like someone who can’t cut loose.”
“That was lust,” he said. “Pure and simple. That’s not really cutting loose. Most guys are occasionally led around by their boners. Otherwise we wouldn’t be men, or warlocks, would we? Those types of casual encounters are easy for someone like you.”
Ben’s comment halted the seductive burn his finger had ignited across my flesh. “What the hell does that mean?”
He held up his hands to indicate he meant no offense when it had been nothing but offensive. “I’m not judging. I’ve known lots of men who prefer the old come and go. They get their rocks off and then have no desire to see you again. It’s hard for guys like that to deal with anything other than superficial, anonymous encounters because they can be forgotten as soon as it’s over. But seeing me here upsets that for you.”
Ben couldn’t be more wrong if he tried. My sex life could never be described as a series of random one-night stands. Especially since I didn’t really have a sex life.
“You’re really starting to piss me off.” I pulled my arm from his wandering finger and took a step back, the reins once again safely in my hands. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
Despite my strident tone, his smile never faltered. Was he enjoying this? “Maybe not, but I’d like to,” he said, kissing the back of the pendant before tucking it beneath his shirt.
I eyed him suspiciously. “You’d like to what?”
“Get to know you better,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He slid into the space I’d created between us, and the scent of copper grew even stronger. What kind of cologne was he wearing? “I’d like to get past the protective iceberg you’ve built around yourself. The one you use to keep others, including your family, at a safe distance. I want to get to know the real Thad Blackmoor, the one no one else gets to see.”
How did he know these things about me? Was I that much of an open book? “This doesn’t make any sense,” I finally replied.
“What? That I want to get to know you?”
I shook my head. “That you would want this from someone you don’t even know.”
He grinned at me as if I’d just said the cutest thing in the world. “That’s what getting to know someone is all about, right? I know real emotion is scary for someone as protective of himself as you are, but why not give it a shot and get to know me?”
“Because this is weird and unsettling,” I replied. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Are we back to that?” he asked. His tone lacked irritation. He seemed to find this humorous, as if no matter what obstacle I placed in his path, he’d simply bound over it in pursuit of me. “Is it coincidental that I’ve been working with your brother and I’m here the night after we hooked up? There’s no doubt about it. But where you see ulterior motives and conspiracy, I see opportunity. In case you’ve forgotten, we live in a magical world. Couldn’t this be the Gate’s way of telling us we might have more in common than just the hots for each other?”
I snuffed. “I don’t have ‘the hots’ for you.”
Ben grabbed my groin and tugged on the erection I hadn’t even realized I’d been sporting. “Are you sure about that?” he asked with a wicked leer.
As my dick throbbed in his grasp, I had to admit I wasn’t too sure about anything.
MY FATHER’S
voice rescued me from my uncomfortable encounter with Ben in the kitchen. It was time for us to honor our ancestors.
My brothers elbowed each other and grinned like idiots when Ben and I entered the library where everyone else waited on us. They evidently believed we’d been going at it. Would they ever outgrow their adolescent tendencies?
I ignored their childishness and swept my gaze around the room that had been set up for the ritual.
The leather couches and red wingback chair had been moved to the perimeter of the room. To the right of the couches, a small feast had been prepared. Dark bread, apples, fall vegetables, cheeses, nuts, cider, and red wine were offered in tribute to our departed loved ones. In the center of the room were four altars with unlit candles. Each family had set up their altar with photos of their deceased relatives and heirlooms passed down through the generations.
The Proctors had prominently placed the harmonica that William, Charlotte’s grandfather and former High Priest of the coven, used to play. The instrument was lovingly set between a photo of William and his wife, Elizabeth, who’d both passed to the spirit world when I was in third grade. Charlotte had cried her way through most of the school year. She had been incredibly close to her grandparents.
A tabletop grandfather clock belonging to Lawrence Stonewall’s great-great-great-grandmother, Perrine, adorned the center of their family’s tribute. She had been one of the most powerful wizards of all time. In fact, she had been one of the only members of the Conclave who survived the battle with Bartram Kane, the warlock shadow weaver responsible for unleashing the vampyren during the Salem witch trials. Other photos decorated the Stonewall family altar, but their stern visages faded away when my gaze drew too close to my family’s altar.