Blood Tied (6 page)

I pulled into the four-car garage, and the door to the house immediately opened. Mason and Pierce stood on the porch. They were both almost the spitting image of our father. They had inherited his dark locks and blue eyes while I had my mother to thank for my strawberry blond hair and hazel eyes. I looked and acted so differently from them, it was sometimes difficult to believe we were brothers, especially when they were glaring at me with their arms crossed. Ah, home.

They were both dressed for the Samhain celebration. Pierce wore a form-fitting, blue plaid button-down with the sleeves rolled up and tight khaki denim. He naturally chose clothing that displayed the muscular body he worked so hard on. Surprisingly, Mason hadn’t donned his favorite pair of jeans and a T-shirt. That had to be Drake’s doing. A black collared shirt showed underneath his gray cashmere sweater, and he was actually wearing black slacks.

Would miracles never cease?

“What cheery tidings do you bring me?” I asked as I exited my vehicle.

“Took you long enough, Brainiac,” Pierce quipped. A playful scowl wrinkled his upper lip. I hated that nickname, and he knew it. But this was what we did. The Blackmoor brothers didn’t greet each other with hugs or pats on the back. Teasing and hostility were how we embraced.

“I talked to Dad on the way here,” I replied, choosing to not take the bait Pierce dangled in front of me. “So simmer down.”

“Simmer down?” Mason asked. Of my two brothers, he and I were the most distant. It was probably because he lived life with his thumb up his ass. How he tapped into the power of darkness was beyond me. I shivered at the thought of the immense power he possessed. “Because of you, we’ve been busting our asses.”

I couldn’t feel any less sorry for him if I tried. “What? You two actually had to get off your butts and do some work?” I shot them both a blank stare. “My trip here wasn’t exactly a piece of cake. I ran into some trouble on the road.”

That got their attention. Their pretend pissiness vanished. After our most recent problems, we’d all been waiting for impending doom to come crashing down around us.

“What happened?” Pierce asked. As usual, my older brother thought with his fists. His hands clenched, and the hum of his electrical powers buzzed.

“Was it the shadow weaver?” A dark aura surrounded Mason. While he had yet to truly explore his shadow weaver abilities, I was pleased to see he no longer had trouble summoning his active power.

“No. A banshee.”

Pierce and Mason locked eyes with each other before gaping at me. “A fairy?” They asked almost in unison. The incredulity in their question couldn’t have been more apparent.

“Considering how little you two study our Grimoire, I’m surprised you even knew that.”

Mason’s bushy eyebrows slanted, but before he could respond to my dig, Pierce, clueless as ever, spoke first. “What trouble can a fucking fairy cause?” he asked.

His question proved how little my brothers read our magical texts. They believed fairies to be androgynous sprites with high-pitched voices, flitting about on paper-thin wings. That was definitely not the banshee and most certainly
not
Aiden. “You’d be surprised,” I answered as I shouldered past them after ascending the porch steps.

When I entered the house, I inhaled deeply. I hoped to find traces of my mother’s perfume still lingering on the air, but the comforting scent of orange blossoms and sweet spices had vanished long ago. Still, I couldn’t help but sniff like a bloodhound every time I came home.

The door slammed shut, and Mason circled to stand in front of me. “Should we be worried?”

The concern in his tone was evident. He and Drake had been through a lot with the vampyre and the shadow weaver. They’d both almost been killed. Hell, we were all almost sliced to pieces, but Mason had seen exactly what a vampyre could do. Not only had he battled it multiple times, but it had killed Drake’s Aunt Millie.

I wasn’t entirely convinced my encounter with the banshee was something we shouldn’t be worried about, but I had to assuage his concern. “It was just a fairy,” I said with a nod. “I took care of it.”

“Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this story than you’re telling us?” Pierce asked.

He stood beside me, leaning his bulky frame against the wall. For someone who was usually oblivious, he was pretty on the money right now. “We can talk about it later,” I said. “We need to get ready before the Stonewalls and the Proctors get here.”

Mason moaned. Out of all of us, he hated these rituals the most because whenever we got together with the witches and the wizards that made up the other two protector covens, he was forced to deal with Miranda Proctor, the witch who burrowed under his skin like a bot fly.

“Don’t worry,” Pierce said with a pat to Mason’s back. “You’ve got Drake to help keep you occupied.”

“Speaking of your boyfriend,” I said. “Where is he?”

“In the living room with Dad,” Mason said with a nod down the hall. “They’re entertaining Pierce’s business associate.”

“Why did you bring a coworker home?” I asked. “Samhain is a private holiday for us.”

“Really?” he asked. He stuck a finger up his nose and crossed his eyes, pretending he was the idiot I’d basically just called him.

“Relax,” Mason said. “He’s a solitary warlock with no coven to celebrate with.”

I nodded. Solitary warlocks weren’t rare, but they were uncommon. They often glommed on to other covens during high Sabbats to partake in the celebration. While it was annoying, we were honor-bound to make him feel welcome.

“Thad, is that you?” My father’s gravelly voice drifted down the hall from the living room.

“Yes,” I called back.

“It’s about time. Now get in here and meet our guest.”

I abhorred newcomers, and my brothers knew that.

“He’s a nice guy,” Pierce said as he shoved me forward with a playful smile.

“And he’s hot,” Mason added.

“I’m going to tell Drake you said that.”

Mason wasn’t pleased with my comment. “Do that, and I’ll hit you with a shadow blast.”

I chuffed at the threat. Mason couldn’t hit the bottom of the pool if he jumped in. I was about to tell him that, but as I entered the living room, I went mute.

“Red!” said the man sitting next to my father. His chocolate-brown eyes widened, and a wicked smile tugged across his lips. “Long time no see.”

“YOU TWO
know each other?” My father asked. His steel blue gaze shifted between Ben, who had a pleased smirk on his face, and me. My face flushed hot, but I did my best to maintain my composure. Just seeing Ben rattled the foundation of my newly built self-control.

“We sure do,” Ben answered. He rose from where he sat across from my father and strode over to me. He pulled me into a hug, and I went rigid. Ben either didn’t care or didn’t notice. Instead of releasing me, he lingered.

I looked around the room. I made a concerted effort not to put my private life on display. What I did behind closed doors was no one’s business but mine, but here I was with Ben pressing his body against mine. To make matters worse, his cock slowly hardened against my thigh.

This was not going to go well.

My father glued his wide eyes to the floor and scratched his fingers through his thick facial hair. My brothers, like the jerks they were, snickered behind me.

“No need to tell us how,” Pierce commented.

Ben chuckled before finally releasing me. “Why does your mind always go straight to the gutter?” he asked.

“Because that’s where my brother lives,” I replied. I shot him an even stare that told him to drop it or else.

Pierce answered my threat with a big, goofy grin. He was clearly not done being an ass.

Mason patted my shoulder before squeezing by Ben and me to get to Drake. “I’m just glad you’re getting some,” he said. “Since I’ve never seen you with anyone but us, I was beginning to think you were either a hermit or a serial masturbator.”

“Mason!” Our father reprimanded from where he sat. He ran his big hand through his short-cropped dark hair before straightening the creases in the black pants he wore for the Sabbat.

“Will all y’all stop teasin’ him?” Drake asked in his Texas twang. Dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and sweater vest, he rose from the couch and gave me a big hug. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been too long.”

“Thank you, Drake,” I replied. Even though Mason was a pain, I liked Drake. Despite the hurt he had suffered, he had a ready smile on his lips, and true kindness reflected in his cornflower blue eyes. I turned from his warmth and leered at Pierce and Mason, who giggled like schoolkids. “I would say it’s good to be home, but since my brothers are here, I’d be lying.”

“Can we get back to the business at hand?” Pierce asked.

My father nodded. “Yes, let’s.”

“So how
did
you two meet?” Pierce asked.

“Pierce!” In about half a second, Dad was going to send my older brother flying through the window into the backyard.

“What?” he asked, a look of pretend innocence widening his expression. “You can’t tell me you’re not wondering the same thing.”

“It’s none of our business,” my father answered. “And frankly, I don’t need the details.”

Before I could agree with him, Ben opened his big mouth. “It’s not a secret. We met at Starbucks yesterday,” he said as he returned to his seat.

“A coffeehouse?” Pierce asked. “I didn’t know you trolled Starbucks for tail. I’m gonna have to give that a try.”

Everyone laughed except my father. His bearded face twisted in revulsion. “That’s enough,” he said. He eyed Pierce, silently telling him if he continued, there would be hell to pay. I half hoped Pierce would. Nothing would make me happier right now than to see my older brother brought down a couple of pegs.

Pierce evidently got the hint. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks like a little kid. “All right. No need to get violent.”

I exhaled in relief. The teasing had finally ceased, so I plopped down in the wingback chair across from the couch where Mason, Drake, and Ben sat.

“I still can’t believe you’re Pierce’s brother,” Ben said. He locked his gaze on mine and unconsciously licked his lips. The seductive gesture triggered a flush that spread across my body. It wasn’t embarrassment but an overwhelming desire to jump his bones.

I shook it off and nodded. “Neither can I.”

“How could you not?” Pierce asked. He took the empty spot on the loveseat next to Dad. “Blackmoor isn’t that common a last name.”

“True. But it’s not like we exchanged last names or anything.” He locked eyes with me. “And mine’s Crane, by the way.”

Was he trying to piss me off? If so, he was doing a damn good job of it. I arched my eyebrow at him before glancing at my father.

“My apologies, Oliver. I didn’t mean to offend.” My father refused to meet Ben’s gaze. “I’m evidently rattled and not thinking clearly.”

“I guess we all know why you were
really
late today, don’t we?” Pierce asked.

I glared at Pierce for that comment before looking at my father. He’d obviously not put two and two together, but thanks to my oaf of a big brother, he did. His even stare told me we’d be talking about this later. “Either we change the subject, or every single one of you will be spitting out rock.”

That shut us all up. Oliver Blackmoor was the most powerful warlock in this room.

“What’s your active power?” Ben asked. He leaned forward, clearly willing to change the subject. “Since warlock abilities come from an amalgamation of two different elements, I’ve always been fascinated with how that manifests in others.”

“Stone,” my father answered.

“So you draw your abilities from fire and earth,” Ben said. “Mine is earth-based too. Sand.”

“Manipulation or dermal?” I asked. My father didn’t manipulate stone; he actually turned into rock.

“Manipulation and projection,” Ben said with a grin. “I tap into earth and air.”

I was impressed. That meant Ben could not only bend sand to his will, but he could create powerful sandstorms. That could definitely come in handy if we needed it.

“What about you, Thad?”

“Ice,” I replied.

Ben turned to Pierce, whose fist crackled with blue electricity. “Got it,” he said. “You’re a living lightning rod.” When he turned to Mason, the hairs on the back of my arm stood at attention.

“Mason hasn’t discovered his active ability yet,” I said before Ben could ask.

“Really?” Ben asked. He didn’t sound convinced. “It’s unusual but not uncommon for someone your age not to have found his active power yet. Don’t worry. It’ll come,” he said with a smile.

No one responded to Ben’s comment. They were too busy being shocked that I’d just lied, and they weren’t hiding it very well, either. They stared at me with mouths agape. Only Drake managed to school his face, even though his tilted head and pursed lips gave him away.

The stigma of potential corruption might come with Mason’s rare shadow-weaving abilities, but that wasn’t the reason I’d lied.

Although I couldn’t understand it, I didn’t want Ben to know.

I DIDN’T
have time to figure out why I suddenly distrusted Ben. Shortly after I’d stunned everyone into silence, my father announced we needed to finish setting up for the Samhain celebration.

I set everyone to task. I charged my brothers with assembling our family’s altar in the library and Drake with hanging the remaining decorations still in boxes. Mason wanted to work with Drake, but there was no way I was letting that happen. Left to their own devices, they’d be sucking face and then running off to one of the many bedrooms.

While I supervised the setup of the bonfire in the backyard, I asked Ben to help organize the offering table for the feast. He’d clearly wanted to work with me out back, but I needed space from him. His sudden appearance in my home still had me rattled.

My dad wanted to help, but I made him go upstairs and take a nap. He needed his rest before leading us through the ritual.

By the time the front doorbell rang, everything was ready. My father descended the staircase, offered me a smile, and then proceeded to open the door to let the Proctors and the Stonewalls inside.