Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge 01 - Spell Bound (8 page)

Did he do that in human form too?

Suddenly an image filled my mind of Drake lying on his bed, naked, with his legs stretched behind his ears. I imagined settling between them, his hard cock only centimeters from my lips, and flicking my tongue across the engorged head.

Under the table where I sat, I squeezed the throbbing erection in my jeans as I mentally took Drake in my mouth, sucking on the head of his prick while jacking his hardness in eager anticipation of my warm reward.

“Are you followin’ me?”

I glanced to my right to find Drake standing next to me. Both my cock and I jumped in surprise.

He blew his long blond locks out of his eyes and crossed his arms over his lean, muscular chest. In his stare brewed a surprising mixture of suspicion and smug satisfaction. Had he guessed what I’d been imagining from all the way across the street?

I glanced over at the library steps, where Drake the Cat had been a few moments before, and of course the tabby was gone. If I could have hexed myself, I would have. I’d been so preoccupied with that bizarre little sucking fantasy, I’d lost my chance to follow Drake and catch him in the act of shifting. Fuck my teenage hormones!

“Hey!” Drake snapped his fingers in front of my face.

I scowled in reply. Thad did that to me whenever I spaced out during one of his rambling lectures about needing to take my magical studies more seriously. “Don’t do that,” I warned.

“Yeah, well, don’t follow me.”

Even though that was precisely what I’d been doing, I scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself,” I replied, taking a sip of my drink. I shifted in my seat and hoped the burning flush that had previously reddened my cheeks had subsided. The last thing I needed was for Drake to think I found him attractive.

“Then why do I get the feelin’ I just caught you with your hand in the cookie jar?” He asked the question with a provocative arch to his eyebrow. I immediately withdrew my hand from my groin.

“So what?” I replied with a shrug. “I like cookies.”

“I can tell,” he said, pulling out the chair and joining me at the outside table.

“Is that your thing or something? Sitting down where you’re not welcome? I don’t recall asking you to join me.”

“And I don’t recall needin’ your permission,” he said with a grin.

Drake kicked his feet up onto the table and leaned his chair back as if he owned this place and everyone who inhabited the town. The light golden fur that spread across his toned legs made me want to lap at the skin and follow the trail up to the nice bulge in his shorts. An impish grin snaked across his lips as he gazed out at the warm sunny street. He either knew exactly what I was thinking and loved it or didn’t give a fuck. It was difficult to tell.

What was the deal with him? Could this hick really be the threat the Conclave had sensed? I had my doubts.

Sure, he seemed to be a bit of a prick, but most people said the same thing about me. Being a shifter didn’t necessarily mean he was some big bad enemy, especially not with that accent. From what I remembered from the books my father used to make me read, their species was only dangerous when provoked.

I sensed no impending threat from him, but there was something about him. It pulled at my stomach with the same intensity that made me rock hard when I imagined him naked in bed. It was very similar to the feeling I’d had in the woods before the Mabon celebration. It was like the universe was reaching out to me, trying to tell me something I was too blind to see.

Was that what was going on? Was I being somehow directed to Drake? It certainly made some sense, considering my dreams. Although I was able to bend magic to my will, it still had a mind of its own.

But if that was the case, what was the reason and why was he here?

“So do I have to get a restrainin’ order or somethin’?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Drake snorted. “I know you’re followin’ me, and I don’t like it.” He let his chair fall back to the ground and sat forward. His scent suddenly filled the space between us. It was an intoxicating mixture of cedar, herb, and fruit that reminded me of earth, wind, and water. It also sent the blood rushing back into my dick.

I willed the rising lump in my denim back to its normal, lazy state, but it wouldn’t listen. It lengthened and snaked down my thigh.

“Why?” I asked. My voice was thick and heavy like my cock. “You hiding something?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied. His Southern drawl got stronger the more emotional he got. He clearly didn’t like me, which was a pity. We could have had a sweaty good time. “Back off, or else.”

It was my turn to lean forward. I wasn’t about to let Drake think he could tell me what to do. I was a fucking warlock, and it was about time he learned a lesson or three. “No one tells me what to do.”

“I’m not tellin’ you to do nothin’. I’m just givin’ you a bit of friendly advice.”

“When I want your advice, I’ll let you know.” I angled in closer until we were practically nose to nose. “And I’ll say this so even you’ll understand. You and me, we ain’t friends.”

He chuckled and rose. “Honey, you ain’t tellin’ me nothin’ I don’t already know.” He practically moseyed away. His slow, even pace was meant to tell me that he wasn’t frightened of me, that he could take whatever I dished out.

And as I watched his ass sway back and forth, I had no doubt he could.

C
OULD
I
be any more of a fucking screwup?

I hammered my fist on the tabletop, drawing uneasy glances from a couple strolling by. A guy a few feet away who’d been washing down the sidewalk with a hose glanced at me from the corner of his eye. I sneered at them, and they turned around, going about their business.

I might not be as physically intimidating as Pierce or as cold as Thad, but I’d been told when I was seriously pissed off, I could look pretty menacing. I wouldn’t be a warlock if I couldn’t do that, but my physical appearance also played a part in people’s reaction to me. Like everyone in my family, I had inherited the badass dark looks of a warlock, which often made people uncomfortable around me. That probably explained why my only friends at school were Brandon, Simon, and Eddie.

At times like this, though, I regretted not having my active power. Frying a nearby car engine or giving someone a severe case of frostbite would make me feel a lot better than repelling strangers with my appearance. Especially since I had to go home and explain to everyone how I’d fucked up my plan right off the bat.

I’d never hear the end of it.

Because I hadn’t come up with anything during the first couple of days, Thad had wanted to take over. He believed casting a spell might help determine if Drake was the threat. But since the Conclave couldn’t break through whatever veil hung over Havenbridge, our father doubted it would work. True to his battering ram personality, Pierce proposed a more direct approach: snagging Drake from his bed in the middle of the night and zapping his balls with electricity until he revealed all. Strategy had never been one of Pierce’s strengths.

My suggestion was subtler. Instead of tailing him, why not try to be his friend? He was new to town and most likely pretty lonely. So was I for that matter. Brandon, Simon, and Eddie weren’t exactly the pick of the litter. Sure, we hung out and got drunk, and I could always count on them to back me up if I needed them, but they were often too crass and unpleasant even for me. And I was a warlock.

I’d have liked to have more people in my life than my family, who thought I was a screwup, and the other covens, who didn’t respect someone with my clear lack of skill. If I could be friends with Elliot, that would be great. We could have been best friends, but that was something our parents had quickly nipped in the bud years ago.

So even though Drake and I had gotten off to a rocky start in the woods, I was confident I could get him to see past that. There was something in the slump of his shoulders that told me he could use a friend too. Why else would he be sitting with complete strangers at lunch or running like a madman in the forest, if he wasn’t searching for something?

My brothers hadn’t agreed.

Pierce had snorted, and Thad had silently rebuked me. Dad had been the only one to truly hear me out. I’d convinced him we couldn’t rely on our usual bag of tricks. Hexes, spells, and power plays might backfire on us, especially if Drake had the power to hide from the Conclave. Someone with those skills had to be handled in a way he wouldn’t suspect.

But when I’d realized he was a shifter, I’d had to improvise. Drake’s instincts would have told him I was a warlock. Maybe that was why I’d sensed Drake knew more than he let on back in the woods. Trust was one thing most people didn’t give us. Warlocks had a reputation for using whatever or whomever we needed to get what we wanted.

“Did you mess up your assignment again?”

The question pulled me out of my thoughts. Behind me stood Miranda and Charlotte with some other witches who’d come to town last week for the Mabon celebration and had yet to hop on their brooms to fly back to their respective cities. Shouldn’t they have gone back to school by now?

Fuck. It really sucked to be me right now.

“I’m not in the mood,” I grumbled, hoping she’d take the hint and leave.

“Oh, but I am,” she said. She crossed into my line of vision and grinned. She was only ever that pleased when she was hell-bent on making my life more miserable than it already was. “You always have the same look when you’ve screwed up. Shoulders slumped like a vulture and pouty lips like Angelina Jolie after her collagen injections.” She leaned in close and whispered so the guy washing down the sidewalk behind us couldn’t hear. “So what did the little warlock who couldn’t do now?”

The girls behind me giggled while Charlotte shushed them all. It seemed that news of my sucking at magic had spread beyond the borders of Havenbridge. “Will you please give it a rest, Miranda?” Charlotte was suddenly at my side, looking down at me as if I was some pathetic mongrel who constantly peed on the floor because he couldn’t help himself. Her pity pissed me off more than Miranda’s bitchiness.

“Fuck you,” I said to Miranda before standing and looking over my shoulder at the girls behind me. They all wore white somewhere in their outfit, on their purses, blouses, shorts, or hair bows. They looked like those carbon-copy young actresses you could see on any Nick Jr. show. “And fuck you too.” They gasped in shock.

“Mason,” Charlotte chided. She wasn’t a fan of cursing.

“And you too, Charlotte.” She jumped back as I turned the gun of my anger on her. “I’m sick and tired of all of you. I don’t need Miranda’s crap and I especially don’t need your fucking pity.”

Suddenly, Miranda stood between Charlotte and me. Her angry brown eyes had become slits. She was ready to throw down right here and right now. “Don’t talk to my sister that way,” she muttered. “She’s only ever been nice to you, even though you don’t deserve it.”

“What’s going on here?”

Adam stood behind me, his mouth slack. “Great! Just what I need. Another goddamn Proctor dressed in white.”

“Whoa!” he said, walking toward me. “Where’s all this coming from?”

He reached out to touch me, and I jerked away. What was up with this touchy-feely crap? It had started during the Mabon prayer and now it was happening here.

“Mason, what’s wrong?” His voice trembled for some reason.

“We’re not supposed to be friends, remember? Much less friendly.” I’d tried to make them see differently last week, but they’d left when the going got tough. They obeyed their parents like the good little magical soldier-children they were. What pissed me off even more was that they had all evidently agreed with me. Our ways didn’t make sense to them either. But instead of standing with me, they’d thrown me to the wolves. “We work together when we have to, and we get together for celebrations. That’s it. You have your assignment, and we have ours. Our kind doesn’t mix, remember?”

Charlotte winced. “You’ve always been sweet to me even though it upset our parents. You never cared what we were
supposed
to do. This isn’t you.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, well, it’s the new me.”

Charlotte turned away, gnawing on her thumbnail.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Adam said. The previous tremor had been replaced with a low, soothing tone. “So we can talk.”

“No.”

He took two steps toward me anyway. The man with the hose was practically standing behind us. Either he was working his way down the sidewalk or he wanted to eavesdrop on what we were arguing about. Either way, it didn’t matter. Seeing him gave me an idea.

“
Madesco
,” I whispered. I couldn’t wait to see my little spell in action. My hex would upset the man and his hose, and he’d get the Proctors and their little friends wet.

When the man tripped over the hose, I eagerly waited for the water to spray them from head to toe. Instead, the hose turned on me.

My breath caught in surprise as the cold water shot in my face. Gasping for air, I held up my hands to deflect the spray, but the hose had developed a mind of its own. It wiggled like a snake in the worker’s hand, drenching me to the bone.

Miranda and her friends laughed. The only other sound I heard was Adam. He mumbled, “
Aqua, averte
,” and the water instantly shut off.

“Jesus Christ!” the man who’d been fighting the hose said. He gaped at the hose and then back at me. “I don’t know what happened. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I replied, wiping the water from my face. I glared at Miranda, who was practically rolling on the pavement in laughter. Charlotte walked away to spare me the pity that no doubt hooded her eyes, and Adam opened his mouth to say something before thinking better of it.

When he closed his mouth and trailed after Charlotte, I walked in the other direction.

I
WALKED
the few blocks to the common nestled in the quadrangle that made up the downtown center. A construction crew busily worked on the courthouse remodel along the western side of the square. It had been going on for over a year and still wasn’t finished. Scaffolding covered the entire front face of the building, and men in jeans and hard hats worked like ants across every level of the wood-and-steel structure.