Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge 01 - Spell Bound (14 page)

Drake stopped working and shifted his gaze to mine. “Did your momma recently pass?”

I cleared my throat. “Six months ago.”

He gathered his legs to his chest, wrapped his sweaty, mud-streaked arms around them, and gave me his full attention. He evidently wanted me to continue, but I didn’t talk about her death with anyone, not even my family. We grieved in silence and by ourselves. It was the Blackmoor way. “What happened?”

Was he really going to make me do this? He wasn’t sharing any information about his parents. He’d made it quite clear he didn’t like talking about it, so why did he want me to open up, and why did I want to do just that? “Cancer.”

He winced and scooted to me across the grass. He unconsciously rubbed his fingers against my chin in a show of support and comfort. I leaned into the gesture and continued. “She got sick about a year ago. Breast cancer. The doctors thought they removed it all with the mastectomy a few months before that, but it had metastasized in her bones and lungs. We tried to fight it.”

“Radiation?”

I nodded. That and whatever healing spells we could find. Thad had cross-checked our Grimoire with every medical book he could find, mixing potions that would cause the cancer to go into remission. Nothing he tried worked. Dad wove spell after spell to cast out the malignancy, but nothing he did proved successful.

“I can’t even imagine how tough that was,” he said.

It had been hard on all of us. While father and Thad had searched for a magical answer, Pierce and I researched new treatments. Some were quite aggressive and weren’t legal in the United States, but we didn’t care. We had to save our mother.

But she didn’t want to leave home. She was getting weak and wanted to remain with her family.

So Dad contemplated casting the spell most forbidden by the Conclave, the
immortalitus
spell. It was the trickiest and most complex spell in existence and had only ever been cast once in all of magical history. The results had been disastrous for humans and for us.

The Conclave at the time ordered the spell stricken from every warlock’s Grimoire, every wizard’s Magus, and every witch’s Book of Shadows. Contemplating casting the spell, like my father did, was grounds for immediate binding of powers. Actually casting it resulted in death.

We were prepared to do it if we found any traces of the spell, but Mother didn’t want that. Instead of fighting like we asked, she let go. She surrendered to the force that consumed her from within in order to prevent her family from doing what we were never supposed to do.

“It was the toughest thing I’ve ever lived through,” I replied.

Drake drew closer, wrapping his arms around my neck like he had outside my house last night. He gently massaged the tension that had bunched up in my shoulders and rested his forehead against mine. His sandy-colored hair had fallen in front of his eyes, and I brushed it away.

“I know that words don’t mean a hill o’ beans at times like this. They can come off corny, clichéd, and without a whole heck of a lot of genuine emotion behind ’em, but I’m truly sorry for your loss.” He nuzzled into the crook of my neck and held me tight. “No boy should be without his momma.”

The words brought tears to my eyes, and from the sniffling I heard coming from Drake, they’d brought tears to his too. I patted his back, and he rubbed mine.

But more importantly, we held on to each other, and that seemed to take some of the pain away. Not a lot, not most, but some. And that was a start.

I
HELPED
Drake finish up in the garden, and about an hour later, Millicent stuck her head out of the back door. “You boys get in here for some lunch,” she said, and from the tone of her voice, there would be no arguing.

“Yes, ma’am,” Drake said as we finished watering the freshly planted winter flowers that would add color in the weeks ahead.

I turned off the water at the faucet and was headed toward the back door when I noticed Drake gazing at the earth and then at the sky. “What are you looking for?” I asked, remembering what he’d told me last night.

He flashed me a cheeky grin over his shoulder. “Someone pays attention. I like that.”

My only response was to place my hands on my hips and glare at him. I wanted an answer.

“I’m just gonna miss the green, is all. The sun and nature always make me feel better. It’s kinda my thing.” As if that was news to me. Shifters loved the outdoors. “It’s gonna get dark and dreary before we know it, so I guess if I’m lookin’, it’s for a butterfly.” He bared his teeth at me as his cheeks grew rosy with embarrassment. “Pretty dopey, huh?”

Yes, it was, but it made me smile anyway. There was a refreshing honesty about Drake that eased my soul. I hadn’t liked his candor when we first met at school. He’d come off too cocky. But it wasn’t overconfidence, just confidence. He stood his ground, and he spoke his mind. We weren’t really all that different from each other.

Well, besides being from two different magical species.

But seeing him standing there, searching each flower and tree along the fence for a butterfly, I decided to test the magic I’d managed to master yesterday. I closed my eyes and found the energy that connected me to everything around me. The entire backyard turned into one invisible latticework of colorful energy. I was surprised by how quickly I’d been able to lower my human senses and heighten my magical ones. It was like Thad said. I wasn’t trying to be a warlock. I was one.

I reached out to the energy, plucking several strings and watching them resonate outward in gentle rolling ripples, and as the waves of energy flowed outward, I whispered, “
Papiliones, veni
.”

When I opened my eyes, a yellow- and black-striped butterfly flitted into the garden.

“Mason, look,” Drake cooed. He pointed to the fluttering insect as it danced between us. “It’s beautiful.”

I nodded, and another butterfly flew into view. Drake covered his mouth with his hands, trying to hold back what would no doubt be a childlike, gleeful squeal. Then a blue butterfly joined the others. The silvery finish on its indigo wings made it sparkle. As it fluttered and flitted, it dazzled in the sun’s light.

“Oh my God,” Drake said.

I looked at him, but he wasn’t staring at the butterflies in the yard. His wide-eyed gaze had shifted to the fence behind me. When I turned to see what had him so awestruck, I couldn’t believe my eyes either.

A cloud of butterflies, both yellow and black and blue and silver, swarmed into the backyard. They performed a silent aerial ballet around us, dipping left before rising high, or swirling in circles before darting to the left or right. Some landed on Drake’s head and clung to his clothes. He giggled like a school kid.

“Auntie, you’ve gotta come out here,” Drake called.

“What is it?” she said, but when she opened the back door, all she managed was “Oh my.”

The prancing performers responded to Millicent’s arrival and fluttered around her, kissing her cheeks with their wings.

I held out my arms, silently calling them to me, and some answered. They lighted on my arms, waving their paper-thin wings in greeting. I smiled at them, sending a mental note of thanks for responding. No doubt they were perplexed. Warlocks didn’t usually cast spells such as these, as there was nothing to be gained by it. This was more of a witch’s spell, but even though an unfamiliar voice had called, they’d come.

The Gate’s energy hummed within all living creatures.

But it was time for them to go. I could sense it in their movements. Staying in one place, gathered in such a large number, was dangerous for them, so I said one final thanks, and the swirl of color lifted from the backyard.

It hung over us for a second before, one by one, the butterflies continued the journeys they were on prior to receiving my call.

“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” Millicent said. One persistent butterfly still fluttered at the edge of her nose. “I don’t know what else to say. It was….”

“Magical,” Drake said as he crossed over to me. His gaze never left mine, and when he reached my side, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the back door. “That was like the most awesome thing that’s ever happened to me. And whenever I’m this pumped up, I get ravenous. What about you?”

“I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”

He groaned as he held open the door. “What did I tell you about stickin’ to your Yankee speak?”

“I guess I’m just like you, then,” I said. “I don’t really do what people tell me to do.”

Aunt Millicent chuckled behind us. “You boys are two peas in a pod.”

She was right. I could feel it, and I think Drake could too.

W
E
STUFFED
ourselves full of hearty sandwiches made with homemade bread, some sliced apples, and another tall glass of lemonade. I was about ready to pop. “Ms. Carpenter, that was perhaps the best sandwich I’ve ever eaten.”

“Call me Millie or Aunt Millie. Everyone else does,” she said as she collected our plates. “And I’m glad you like it. I pride myself on my sandwiches, as Drake will tell you. They used to be the highlight of the delicatessen at my old grocery store.”

That was right. I remembered going in there with my mom and brothers when I was a kid. I used to push my face against the glass container, overwhelmed by my choices. It had been too difficult for me to decide what I wanted, and Pierce and Thad complained I took forever. My mother always shushed them, though, and told them to let me have my time to choose. According to her, it wasn’t my fault they ate the same thing every time while I tended to try something new each visit. “I have some good memories of your store,” I said, helping her with the dirty dishes. “My mother used to take my brothers and me to your store every week. I think I tried all the sandwiches you ever made, but my favorite was the fried egg.”

Her eyes sparkled. “The Perfectly Fried Egg Sandwich,” she corrected.

“That was it.” I turned on the water and started washing. “It had cheese, avocado, bacon, and was just all around yummy. I really miss it….” I trailed off. It was my mother I missed most right now.

Aunt Millie wrapped one arm around me and gave me an affectionate squeeze. “I was very sad to hear about your mother. Priscilla was a beautiful woman, and the way she doted on you kids, well, I could tell you three were her most prized possessions in the world.”

I wiped a stray tear from my cheek and nodded. My mother had loved me. I never doubted that, but there had always been this occasional distance between us, as if there was some secret I was unaware of. It didn’t prevent her from loving me, but it kept her guard up.

As I continued washing, I stared over my shoulder to see where Drake was. He hadn’t said a word since we finished lunch. When I saw him sitting at the table staring at me, I arched an eyebrow at him, wondering why he had gone mute when he usually couldn’t stop talking.

He responded with a big smile that made my stomach flutter.

“How is your family doing with everything?” Aunt Millie asked.

“In the usual Blackmoor way, we don’t really talk about it.”

She nodded. “That’s the trouble with men,” she snorted. “Bottling up their emotions instead of dealing with them. It’s not good to keep it all inside. Sometimes you just have to let it out. Cry. Scream. Hit things. Whatever it takes. Just get that venom out of your soul before it tears you apart.”

“Auntie!” Drake scolded.

“Oh, hush!” she said. “You’re no better, mister, and you know it!”

He had no comeback for that one.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she continued. “I’m not a sexist. Certain men can be open about their feelings, but they are few and far between. I dated this man once. You might have known him, Mason. Gerald Wa.”

I nodded. Gerald arrived in Havenbridge about five years ago. He was a solitary wizard of advanced age without a coven. While most of our kind stayed with our families, a lone wizard, witch, or warlock wasn’t uncommon. Either they were the last of their coven, like Gerald, or they’d ventured off on their own, preferring a life of solitude to the often-complicated life of communal magical living.

Gerald had come to Havenbridge to be close to the Gate before he passed.

“He was a wonderful man,” she said, “and a great companion for a few years.” She pulled a gold chain out of her blouse. “He was the one who gave me this.” She showed off what was obviously a very prized possession. Hanging from the chain was an emerald stone mounted in gold. A lily with its petals open had been carved in onyx across the gem face.

It was an exquisite piece of jewelry. I was shocked that such a gift had come from a wizard. They weren’t known for their good taste in baubles. “It’s beautiful,” I said.

“Thank you.” On her face was a smile of pride.

She flipped the charm over in her tiny fingers, and I glimpsed what looked like a triangle on the other side. It vaguely reminded me of something I’d seen before, but I couldn’t place it. I wanted to ask Aunt Millie if I could have a closer look, but her careful handling of the trinket told me such a request would likely make her uncomfortable.

“He was an exceptional gift giver.”

She nodded before chuffing. “But talk about closed off. He was so quiet and logical. I could barely get a rise out of him even when I tried.” That was because Gerald was a typical gray wizard, free with logic but closed with his emotions. “But he was a breath of fresh air after my husband. Now Vincent, he wasn’t shy about expressing his emotions, even though he didn’t have a lick of common sense. He didn’t like that I was smarter than he was, and that’s probably why he left,” she added with a shrug.

“He was a fool,” I said, turning off the faucet.

“Maybe,” she said with a laugh. “But he gave me the greatest gift of our marriage when he walked out on it. I send him a thank you card every year on the anniversary of our divorce.”

Drake snickered. “Aunt Millie, you do not!”