Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge 01 - Spell Bound (6 page)

The only other person who seemed annoyed was Miranda. Like me, she was staring through the back window at our parents. They sat in the Stonewall living room, speaking with nine of the most powerful of us all.

“This blows,” Miranda said as she crossed to stand next to me. “This is probably about that poor woman on the football field. We should be in there.”

I nodded. “But that’s not how we do things,” I said, doing my best to mimic my father.

She chuckled. “Yeah. I hear that from my dad all the time.” She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “Miranda, why can’t you be like your brother and sister and just do what’s expected of you? Why do you have to be so difficult all the time?” She blew out a quick puff of air. “As if I want to be anyone else but me. I’m a witch with her own mind, and yeah, I’m grateful for what we can do and for our status, but that doesn’t mean I don’t ask questions or voice my opinions.”

I couldn’t help but gape at her. How could someone I despised so much be just like me?

“What?” Her usual grimace curled her lips. “Don’t look at me as if I’m a freak, or I’ll warp your sorry ass into the middle of Cape Cod Bay.” Warping was what Miranda called her active teleportation power. It was both uncommon and powerful because it derived from spirit, the most potent element of them all. White magic drew its power straight from the five elements, and most witches tapped into fire, water, earth, or air. Not Miranda.

“No, thanks,” I said. “I experienced your warping once before, and I was nauseous for days.”

“Then don’t look at me like that, and we won’t have a problem.”

Her father was right. She was difficult. “Look, I don’t think you’re a freak. I feel the same way you do.” Even though I had her full attention, she grimaced at me. She clearly believed I was pulling her leg. “I’m constantly getting in trouble for not toeing the family line. For pushing the boundaries of what is acceptable for my order. I mean, I shouldn’t even be talking to you, right? Unless we’re on official business. You’re white magic. I’m black. We’re supposed to coexist because we have to. That’s the way our world works, but that’s bullshit. That’s the way things used to be back when we first evolved, but that’s not the way they have to stay. Sure, you’re a pain in the ass.” Miranda crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow at me. “I should dislike you for that, not because we’re different species. But I think that’s changing. Because of us.”

I motioned to the others, who had stopped what they were doing and started listening to me. “Take Charlotte and me for example. She’s always been kind to me. And so has Adam. Hell, I remember when Pierce and Adam were close, even though they aren’t now.” Pierce and Adam cast sideways glances at each other before returning their attention to me. “We’re changing, and with it, magic is changing. It’s becoming less black-and-white.”

“More gray?” Kate Stonewall asked. She grinned, her dazzling white smile shining from skin darker than her father’s.

Even though I shuddered at the thought of all of us becoming as boring as her parents, I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“What the fuck’s the matter with you?” Pierce asked. He crossed the lawn and towered over me. “Black magic will always be black. I’m never going gray.” He growled at Edith and Elliot, who had risen from where they sat and now stood in front of Kate.

I sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that, Pierce. We’re different. I get that. What I mean is that our attitudes about each other are changing. How else do you explain why I’m friendly with Charlotte or Adam or why they’re friendly with me? If we were sticking to the ways of our parents, we’d all despise each other as much as our parents do. They’re only cordial to each other during Sabbats because that’s what we have to do. But that’s not the way I want to be, and I don’t think it’s the way you all want to be either. When Elliot and Edith had the flu last year, I brought them their homework. And dammit, I like Elliot. I always have.”

Elliot flashed me a big smile. He obviously felt the same.

“Sweet little Kate gives me a wildflower every time she sees me in the park, and how many of us have stopped to push Kate and Keaton on the swings in the playground?”

They looked at one another and nodded. My words rang true. Over the years, we’d developed more than just working relationships. We were a dysfunctional extended family, whether anyone wanted to admit it or not. “Acting the way our parents do doesn’t make sense. There have been strict divisions among all three orders since our race evolved from the humans. But why? What’s the purpose of keeping us separate? No one ever seems to question that. Why are the members of the Conclave allowed to work together as one when we can’t? All of us have the same job, but we do it separately. Wouldn’t uniting make us more powerful? Wouldn’t it make more sense to protect the Gate together?”

“Makes sense to me,” Kate replied from behind her older brother and sister.

“Kate, hush,” Edith said.

Keaton joined hands with Kate. The Stonewall twins were closer to each other than anyone else. “Don’t tell her to hush. You’re not Mom or Dad.”

Elliot was quick to defend his twin. He shook his finger at them in reprimand.

Keaton and Kate snorted in reply.

“See what you started?” Edith asked me.

“All I’m saying is we shouldn’t blindly follow tradition. It’s not who we are. Our race is a result of humans challenging the laws of the universe. Without them, we wouldn’t be here. We shouldn’t dishonor any of our ancestors.”

“You mean the way you’re doing right now?”

I spun around to my father’s voice behind me. All the parents now stood on the back lawn with the still-hooded members of the Conclave behind them. None of them appeared pleased.

“It’s time to go,” my father said. He jerked his head to the left. Pierce and Thad immediately obeyed and crossed the lawn toward the back door. The other children responded similarly to their parents’ gestures. Only Miranda remained at my side, but after a few moments, even she departed, though not before casting one final, remorseful glance at me over her shoulder. It was perhaps the kindest look she’d ever given me.

When only my father and the Conclave remained, I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up his hand to quiet me. “Not. One. Word.”

I nodded and walked past him and the robed figures. All nine members of our governing council turned their heads to watch me depart. I couldn’t see their faces, which were shrouded beneath the dark folds of their hoods, but I sensed the contempt with which they silently regarded me.

But there was another emotion hanging in the air. Why did it smell like fear?

T
HE
RIDE
home was much different from the drive to the Stonewalls’. Instead of lecturing, my father remained quiet. He focused on the darkened road before him, and he gripped tightly onto the steering wheel. Why didn’t he just yell at me? That was certainly better than the silent treatment.

It didn’t help that neither of my brothers would look at me. Both of them stared out the windows, distancing themselves from me and the wrath I’d face at home. When we finally pulled up into the circular driveway of Blackmoor Manor, Pierce and Thad hopped out of the car. They opened the huge mahogany front door of the house and dashed for the protection of the interior.

I was left alone with my father, who, for the first time, stared back at me through the rearview mirror. “Meet me in the library,” he said before shutting off the engine.

I nodded and exited the vehicle. I went inside and walked down the long, narrow foyer that was the hub of the house. Along the rear was the great hall that spanned all three levels of the structure. More than anything else, I’d rather be sitting at my spot on the third floor, sprawled on one of the bay window benches and taking in the view. I’d even settle for obsessing about the mystery that was Drake, as I had earlier that evening.

But instead of going up the stairs, I took a left into the library.

The room was quiet, and the sweet scent of cherry wafted in the air from the materials used to panel the room and construct the bookcases. I inhaled deeply, hoping the soothing aroma might help calm my nerves. It didn’t. I crossed the hardwood floor over to the carpeted reading area, where two chocolate leather couches sat in a V shape that opened toward the huge fireplace and the massive mirror that adorned the wall above it. Thanks to the reflective surface, the room seemed to be even larger than it already was. The bookshelves along the first and second floor appeared to go on forever.

“Sit down,” my father said as he strolled into the room.

I immediately complied, taking a seat on one of the leather couches. He sat in the red wingback chair diagonal to me.

“I’m sorry,” I managed to choke out. I’d rather turn myself into a roach again than utter those two words.

He sat back with a sigh. “And what exactly are you sorry about?”

To be honest, I didn’t have a clear understanding of that. I knew I was in trouble. Beyond that I wasn’t really sure. I could only guess that our parents and our bosses had heard what I had said and viewed me as insubordinate.

“Just as I thought.” He laced his fingers together and called my brothers. Within moments Pierce and Thad, ever-dutiful sons that they were, appeared at the library entrance. He gestured for them to take seats next to me, and they did as asked, but not before glancing at each other and then giving me the stink eye. They evidently believed I had somehow gotten them into trouble too. “We obviously need to have a discussion.”

“About what?” Pierce asked. “What did Mason say we did? Because it’s not true.”

I chuffed. “Will you grow a pair already?”

“Fuck you, Mason! I’m not the one who screwed up again.”

“I thought you were twenty-eight, not twelve.”

Pierce clenched his fist in anger, sending sparks of electricity crackling through the air.

“Enough.” Dad’s voice immediately stopped our arguing and reined in Pierce’s powers. Pierce sat back and faced forward, and I did the same. “You made a serious error tonight, Mason. And your lack of understanding gravely concerns me.”

“Just what did I do?”

Father glanced at Thad, who nodded in reply. He stood and proceeded to the iron coffee table that squatted between our dad and us. He turned to face me. Disappointment and exasperation were in the hazel eyes that reminded me too much of our mom. She too had often looked at me much the same way.

“You challenged the very premise upon which our community is founded,” he said. “The different orders of magic exist for our safety. Separating our races wasn’t some arbitrary decision made generations ago to complicate our lives. It safeguards us. If you’d studied our Grimoire, or any of the other books in this house, as much as I do, you’d know that already.”

If I’d had an active power, Thad would be feeling the brunt of it right now. “I’m not an idiot. I know that. We
all
know that. All I was suggesting was that we don’t need these divisions among our orders. We’re charged with protecting the Gate. Wouldn’t doing that together instead of separately be more effective?”

“No,” Thad said without a moment’s hesitation. “Our species has been hunted to near extinction from the moment we evolved as the
homo magus
. When we intermingled, we exposed ourselves to danger. It has only been withdrawing from human society, separating ourselves from them, that has allowed our species to thrive.”

“It’s also made us shortsighted bigots,” I added.

“It has also kept us pure,” Thad said. “Or don’t you remember our history?”

“That was almost three thousand years ago, Thad. I think we’ve evolved a bit more since then, don’t you?”

“You just don’t get it.” It was Dad’s turn to speak. “How can gray magic remain neutral if it is constantly influenced by white or black? How could white magic promote spiritual connections if tainted by the selfish nature of our ways? For that matter, how would our black magic fare if we didn’t focus on our individual wants or needs? In order for us to remain safe, for all magic to remain stable, and for this world to persist, we have to exist as we are and as the Gate meant for us to be. To abandon those rules and our roles would threaten everything there is. Whether anyone likes it or not, our traditions must be followed.”

I still didn’t buy it. There were huge holes in his logic, but everyone refused to see them. “If what you say is true, then why does the Conclave work together? They don’t seem to be destroying our way of life.”

“That’s because their connection to the Gate is stronger than ours. The picture they see is bigger than what the rest of us see, and their combined power ensures stability is maintained and the rules that allow it are followed. When you question the rules, you question them.” Dad paused, no doubt for effect. “And no one wants to do that, right?”

I swallowed hard. Considering how powerful each member of the Conclave was individually, I couldn’t imagine the power they wielded together. But that only made me more curious about the need for the divisions. Did keeping us separate keep them in power? Would banding together somehow threaten that? But those were questions I wasn’t going to voice. I was in enough hot water as it was.

My father cleared his throat, wanting an answer.

“No,” I finally answered. “I don’t.”

He motioned for Thad to rejoin us on the couch. “Good. Because we have something far more important to deal with than you questioning our way of life.”

“Is this about the murder at Mason’s school?” Pierce asked, sitting forward on the couch. He was typically the first to goof off, but when it came to business, he was always ready to get started.

Thad sat down next to me, studying our father’s expression. Trouble was obviously brewing, and the protector covens were needed.

“Perhaps. We told the Conclave about it, and they were not pleased.”

“Wait a minute,” Thad said. “They didn’t already know?”

Dad shook his head. A curious expression played across Thad’s face. He glanced over at me, as if contemplating something he didn’t want to admit.