Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge 01 - Spell Bound (23 page)

“Why don’t you give me a moment?”

The officers deferred to his presence and went outside. He surveyed the others in the room and inclined his head toward the front door. They understood the gesture and gave us some privacy.

“Thank you, Mr. Proctor,” I said.

“It’s Detective Proctor right now, Mason,” he said after closing the door.

“Of course.”

He sighed as he took a seat in the overstuffed chair across from where we sat. “I know you boys have been through the ringer tonight, but I want you to tell me everything that you can remember no matter how small or insignificant. Do you think you can do that?”

As he talked to us, his energy filled the room. He was evidently silently weaving a calming spell to ease Drake’s anxiety enough for him to handle reliving the events. Drake collected himself and sat up straight, and then we did as he asked.

“So you didn’t see him, but you heard him hiss?”

“Yes,” I answered. Drake nodded.

“Like a snake or what?”

I shook my head. “Not really. It was the kind of hiss an angry animal makes, but it was none I’d ever heard before.”

“Me either,” Drake added. “And I’m from Texas. There are more critters than people on the farm.” The effects of the spell had clearly worked their magic. Drake had settled down quite a bit, but it wasn’t real. Underneath, he still bubbled with fear, anger, and worry, but Detective Proctor had given him the magical support he needed to be as clearheaded as possible.

“And you knocked him through that wall?” he asked me.

I raised my fingers to the side of my head hidden from Drake and wiggled my fingers as if I was casting a spell. “I did.”

He nodded in understanding, and his half grin revealed he was impressed. Miranda had most likely filled her father in on my magical problems. “I see. Drake, is there anyone you can think of who would want to harm your aunt Millicent?”

He scoffed as if that was the most ridiculous question ever. “No! She was the sweetest woman in the world. She opened her home to me. To give me some semblance of family after what happened to mine. A woman with a heart like that can’t be hated. She might not have always been the friendliest person in town, but she didn’t speak ill of no one.” Tears spilled down his cheeks. “She was the best.”

Detective Proctor nodded. “Yes. She was.” He looked around the house. “Can either of you tell if anything has been taken?”

Drake stood up and surveyed the room. “No, but I didn’t think to look. Should I?”

“Not right now,” he answered. “I only ask because you told us her car wasn’t home when you got here. And neither of you heard it drive away after the assailant left the premises?”

We shook our heads. “What does that mean?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Yet,” he said. “But for now, let’s get this scene cleared up, and then you can come back later to identify anything that might have been taken or that might point to some motive.”

“Okay,” Drake replied hesitantly.

“Do you have someplace to stay for the night?”

“He can stay with me,” I said.

It didn’t take a detective to figure out what was up between us. “Good.”

“Are you sure?” Drake asked. “I don’t wanna be a bother.”

I pulled him back into my embrace and kissed the top of his head. “I wouldn’t let you stay anywhere else but in my arms.”

Drake held me close and nodded into the crook of my neck. I held Detective Proctor’s gaze with my own. It was my way of telling him I had more information for him that I couldn’t share at the moment. Whatever was here had come for something and had obviously left with it. His nod told me our families would be speaking later, and it couldn’t be soon enough for me.

M
Y
FATHER
and brothers were waiting at the open front door of our house when I pulled up in the driveway. Pain etched its way across their faces, but it wasn’t just for the tragedy Drake had suffered. The grief of losing our mother played through their minds. It was what happened to people whenever death unexpectedly called on those who had already suffered through a recent visit.

“I’m glad Mason brought you here,” my father said as he opened the passenger-side door. Drake exited the car on automatic pilot. Since leaving his aunt Millie’s, the effect of Mr. Proctor’s calming spell had worn off. He hadn’t spoken the entire drive, and his eyes had glazed over, as if he was slowly retreating from this cruel world.

A few hours before, we’d been happy, basking in the wonderful emotions we’d created together. Now pain gripped our hearts and souls.

“You can stay as long as you want,” my father added.

Drake’s manners kicked in enough for him to acknowledge the sentiment with a smile before Thad led him inside the house.

“He doesn’t look too good,” Pierce said after Thad and Drake had gone inside.

“His aunt was just murdered,” I said. My tone was sharp. “What do you expect him to be doing? Somersaults?”

My brother threw up his arms and waved them in the universal sign that meant he’d been misunderstood. “Of course not. I’m just, well, I guess I’m stating the obvious because I don’t know what else to say.”

I grinned an apology. “I need to get to Drake.”

My dad stopped me with his hand on my shoulder. “First I want you to tell me everything.”

“Can’t it wait, Dad? Drake needs me.”

His even stare was my only reply. As much as I wanted to be there for Drake, he was right. I had to give my father all the information I could. He had to report to the Conclave, as if that would do any good. Lately all they’d done was sit on their asses.

Still, the faster I got this over with, the sooner I’d get to Drake, so I revealed everything that had happened.

“What do you think it took from Aunt Millie?” my father asked.

I shrugged. “Whatever it was, it’s been looking for it this whole time.”

“And it hissed like an animal?” Pierce asked.

I nodded. “But it wasn’t one. It smelled like bleach and pancakes, and there are no animals I know of that smell like that.”

“Agreed,” my father said as he folded his arms across his chest and screwed up his face. “We thought we were dealing with a shadow weaver, but maybe we aren’t. Perhaps it’s a corrupted shifter? I haven’t heard of one leaving Aeaea in at least a decade.”
That
was the name I couldn’t recall of the shifter island. “The return wasn’t for any nefarious reason. She requested passage to visit a dying relative who hadn’t made the pilgrimage to their safe haven.”

“But shifters can’t attack with shadows,” I reminded him. Whatever attacked Elliot and me in the boys’ restroom at Havenbridge High had not been a were. “If it’s not a shifter or a shadow weaver, what else could it be?”

My father’s brow wrinkled. “Something I don’t even want to contemplate. That’s why it’s important for us to find out. We need to know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

Even though I didn’t want to add to Drake’s problems, I had to finally voice what I believed to be true. “There has to be a shifter involved.”

Dad and Pierce traded glances. “Why do you say that?” my father asked. “You sound extremely certain.”

I exhaled. Once I spoke the words, I’d never be able to take them back, and Drake’s life would become even more complicated than it already was. He’d face interrogation by the Conclave, and I’d have to suffer through my family’s wrath for keeping his identity a secret. “Because Drake is a shifter.”

My father’s mouth dropped open. I’d rarely seen him at a complete loss for words.

Pierce had no problem finding his voice. “What the fuck? And you’re just telling us now?”

“I had to be sure,” I explained. “I suspected by the way he jumped all over the place like I told you about. And when I was following him almost two weeks ago, he disappeared and a cat was suddenly in his place.”

“That’s not exactly hard proof,” my father said. “Did you see him shift?”

I shook my head. “But he knew I was a warlock, and I figured he knew because he could smell the magic on me.”

“
When
did he tell you this? Today?” The calmness in my father’s tone rumbled in a wave of fury.

“Uh, a little over a week ago?”

“Fuck, Mason!” Pierce said. “That’s information you’re supposed to be giving us, not keeping between you and your boyfriend. This is serious shit we’re dealing with. I can’t believe you’d keep us in the dark.”

“Your brother’s right,” my dad added. “It’s obvious you like Drake, and I can certainly see why. But your first duty is to this family and to the Gate. Nothing else is more important.”

They were right, but they were also wrong at the same time. Drake was extremely important to me. Just as much as my family or the Gate. I would do anything to protect him, and if it meant occasionally keeping something a secret, that was exactly what I was going to do.

“First thing we’ll have to do is verify if he is a shifter or not,” my dad said.

“How do we do that?” I asked.

“We could always ask,” Pierce answered.

My father shook his head. “We wouldn’t know for certain if he were telling the truth or not. Remember, shifters have the natural ability to camouflage themselves from humans and us. We need to search our Grimoire. It will have the answers we need.”

“That’s not going to happen tonight.”

We turned to see Thad standing at the front door.

“Why not?” I asked.

Thad motioned for us to follow him inside, where he led us to the living room. Drake had passed out on the couch, his legs pulled up to his chest in a natural defensive posture; he was shivering.

“What happened?”

Thad nodded at the cup of tea sitting on the coffee table. “One of my special brews,” he said. “I figured he’d need it if he was going to get some rest.”

“I might need it too.”

“No,” my father said. “We need to keep clear heads. If Drake is a shifter being pursued by someone of his own kind, then he might be followed here. We have to be ready and waiting.”

Pierce cracked his knuckles. “I’m always ready.”

My family clicked on their active powers in a show of force. The hum of Pierce’s electricity filled the air, and the temperature around Thad dropped a good twenty degrees. My father, who very rarely relied on his active power since his other magic was a force to be reckoned with on its own, gazed down at hands that had turned to big blocks of solid rock. Unlike Pierce and Thad, who projected their power, our father became his. He was the living embodiment of stone.

My family watched me, waiting for me to activate the power I’d yet to see. I concentrated with all my might, trying to force it to the surface. Nothing happened. “I’ll be ready,” I told them. “I promise.”

“We know you will,” my father replied. He patted my shoulder with a heavy earthen hand. It was like being tapped by a pile of bricks. “You get Drake upstairs to bed. Pierce and Thad, I want you to keep watch. I’m going to contact the Conclave.”

While my family set off on their tasks, I scooped Drake off the couch and carried him in my arms. He instinctively held on to me, and I pressed my lips to his cheek to let him know that he was safe, that I would take care of him.

His deep sigh told me he understood.

T
HAD
SAT
in the library, poring through our Grimoire. Wasn’t he supposed to be walking the grounds like Pierce? I was about to chastise his apparent lack of concern for helping keep my boyfriend safe when the word stuck in my mind.

Boyfriend. Although we’d already accepted that, it meant even more right now.

Drake was the most special person in the world. Meeting him had triggered the inner warlock within me. I had more control over my spells, and my active power, whatever the fuck it was, had finally kicked in.

All of that had occurred because whatever magic sparked between Drake and me had jump-started my latent power. He was my own personal energy source. It was his strength and my feelings for him that made casting spells as easy as turning a faucet off and on.

And I would use that gift he’d given me to protect him. No matter what the cost.

“Is there a purpose to your lingering?” Thad asked. Whenever he was engrossed in his studies, his tone could cut through diamond.

“Just thinking,” I replied.

“Can you do that elsewhere? You breathe like an inbred hillbilly when you’re thinking. It’s very distracting.”

Instead of starting a fight, I inhaled three times before speaking. “What are you doing? I thought you were supposed to be—”

“Outside flexing my muscles?”

I nodded. “Well, yeah.”

“That’s not me,” he said with a wave at the window. “That’s Pierce’s thing. I prefer to flex the strongest muscle I’ve got: my brain.”

“So what have you come up with?”

Thad pulled his gaze from the yellowed pages of our leather-bound book of spells. “I’m not quite certain,” he said. “I’ve gone over everything our family has ever learned about shifters, and it doesn’t add up.”

“What doesn’t?”

He chewed on his lower lip. Whenever he did that, he was working through a particularly difficult problem. “Your deduction that Drake is a shifter.”

“But I’ve seen what he can do. There’s no way a regular human can do that.”

“Not true. No matter how sluggish most humans are, some do possess great stamina and natural athletic ability. It could be possible that Drake’s running and jumping is his means of exercise. How he lets off steam, not an indication that he is a were.”

I was about to speak, but Thad stood up and paced. He scanned the floor in front of him and laced his hands behind his back. His posture indicated he was almost at a solution, and it was best not to interrupt. So I held my tongue and let him talk it out.

“If Drake was a shifter, how would he have gotten here unnoticed? The Conclave would have sensed his piercing of the spell that keeps their home safe.”

“But Havenbridge has turned into a magical blind spot, remember?”