The Keepers: Archer (3 page)

BENNETT ESTATE, RAPID FALLS, CANADA

When the cold arm wrapped around his neck with a vicious grip, Archer wasn’t surprised.

Thanks to his heightened senses, alive with warning, he’d heard and smelt the intruder the moment he’d entered his house. Driven by instinct and armed with exceptional reflexes, Archer whirled around and rammed his fingers around his attacker’s neck in a deathly grip. He charged forward, slamming the intruder against the wooden wall of the living room, not caring when the wood splintered beneath the impact, his arm shoved against his neck. The action sparked a series of choking gasps of air.

“Your name.” When silence met his question, Archer added more pressure.

“Hunter,” the intruder gasped between clenched teeth. “My name is Hunter. Now get off me.”

Like hell. “What do you want?” Archer demanded, adding another quick slam against the wall.

“I have a message for you.”

“And you had to deliver it personally.”

Hunter straightened his body in a brief act of bravery. “It’s about your witch.”

The mention of Sienna’s name fuelled Archer’s rage more than the attack itself. Go figure. “Leave Sienna out of this.”

“We know where she is.”

With lightening speed, Archer grabbed Hunter by the shirt and hurled him across the living room. The resounding crash resonated through the room with a sickening crunch of splintering glass. Three long daggers pinned against the wall rattled against the wood. Without flinching, Archer bolted and landed on his attacker with a low growl.

He spotted the branded tattoo on Hunter’s wrist, and his gut clenched. The mark of the one warlock he’d hoped would never return.

Warrick Brogan.

Damn.

“You’re here for Warrick,” he said, reigning in his searing anger.

“He’s issuing a challenge to the Bennett brothers,” Hunter choked, flinching at the weight of the solid man on top of him.

“And what challenge would that be?”

“He dares you to find the witch before he does.”

Archer’s stomach rolled at the mention of Sienna’s name in the same sentence as Warrick’s. The feeling was almost unbearable – blind fury and the instinctive urge to protect shot through his body, fusing together in intense heat.

“Tell Warrick that I have a message for him.” The colour in Hunter’s face had changed to a distressed blue. When his eyes started rolling back in his head, Archer softened his grip. After all, he needed a messenger. “If anyone so much as lifts a finger to Sienna, the Bennett brothers will retaliate with so much wrath that it’ll make hell seem like an attractive place.”

Hunter gave a sly grin. “Warrick wants the Grimoire.”

Of course. “Tell him to get in line.”

“But he wants the witch even more.”

“Like hell.”

“You won’t be able to protect her forever.” His words, said with such malice and confidence, hit Archer straight in the gut.

The Keeper of the Wise. His ancestral duty was to protect the Beckham witches from the evils of men like Warrick Brogan and his minions. So far, he’d already failed dismally where Sienna was concerned.

Two years later and she was still in hiding. Damn her.

He’d also failed his sister, his parents, and Sienna’s parents too, and their deaths had sparked a bitter quest for vengeance.

He leaned forward. “Touch her and you’ll die,” he said in an undertone that cut like a knife.

“Warrick won’t back down, Bennett.”

“And neither will we.” With herculean strength, Archer flung Hunter forward. “Get your evil ass out of my home,” he ordered and tossed Hunter through the jagged window. More glass shattered, and Hunter landed on the lawn outside with a loud curse.

“You’ll pay for this, Bennett,” Hunter said, wiping blood from his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. “We’re coming for the Grimoire and the witch, and the Bennett brothers won’t stop us.”

Archer’s anger soared, and he bolted through the window, landing on the grass with the ease of a cat jumping from a four-storey window. “I dare you to say that again.”

Hunter stumbled to his feet with a string of curses that would make his mother blush. Not that men like him had mothers. No, they were the spawn of … evil.

A rustle of bushes drew Archer’s attention to the shrubbery beside him. A Golden Retriever circled their visitor with a soft growl.

“Ah, you’ve pissed off Levi.” Archer suppressed a grin at Hunter’s expression. The retriever’s growl deepened. “And Levi hates trespassers even more than we do.”

“Call off your dog.” Hunter quickly stepped back. “I’ll deliver your damn message, but you should know that Warrick won’t let this go.”

The dog’s low growl turned into a series of quick, loud snarls that sent Hunter soaring off and away.

Archer couldn’t blame him. In defensive mode, Levi did look rather frightening – nothing like the gorgeous, fury, friendly, and protective dog she was.

On edge with restless energy from the surprise attack, Archer blew out air and flexed his shoulders. His gaze travelled to the broken glass on the lawn, and he frowned. Broken doors and windows at the Bennett Estate was nothing new, but still sent a bolt of fury and resentment through him. Attacks from Warrick Brogan and others like him had been part of their life since they’d taken over the Keeper role from their parents before their deaths several years ago. But every time a dark force entered the estate uninvited, it stirred something vicious inside.

Situated in a small mystical town renowned for the production of ice wine, the mansion had been home to the Bennett family for decades, carefully restored by each generation. It was an impressive house, luxurious, and large enough to house several families. Thousands of trees, shrubs, and flowers filled their grounds. It was nestled in the centre of massive spans of land, surrounded by thick forests and a glistening river on the one side, and endless rows of grape vineyards on the other. The estate itself was very old, and steeped in magical energy. Storage buildings and underground tunnels filtered through the estate and the forest surrounding it. They’d all been abandoned or destroyed when the Bennett family had moved in.

Currently, the mansion was home to two of the three Bennett brothers. Still no sign of Declan.

Levi returned moments later, chasing an Aston Martin down the driveway.

Ethan.

When the car pulled to a stop in front of the house, the youngest Bennett brother emerged with a sheepish grin. “Seriously? Did you use Levi to frighten our visitors again?”

Archer smiled. “No. Levi offered. And it worked, didn’t it? One look at the crazy dog and he bolted.”

Ethan dropped to his knees and patted the cheerful dog. “Nobody messes with Levi, do they girl?”

Archer took in his brother’s ragged appearance and cocked a brow. Yesterday’s jeans and a rumpled blue T-shirt, messy sandy brown hair, and unshaven. A far cry from his immaculate appearance the night before. “Late night?”

Ethan nodded, his grin widening.

“Looks like you didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Nope.”

Figures. With his carefree grin and endless charm, Ethan was never without a woman at his side. The youngest Bennett brother loved parties, alcohol, and women – and they loved him right back. The man had stamina that even put Hercules to shame.

Ethan’s silly grin disappeared as he glanced at the broken window. “So who was our visitor?”

Archer frowned, thinking about his intruder and every threat he stood for. “Remind me to arrange for some damn security,” he said, although he knew that ordinary security could do very little to keep the likes of Warrick and his gang away. Supernatural powers trumped conventional security measures any day.

“What did he want?”

“Warrick Brogan sent us a message.”

The mention of the warlock’s name was enough to jar the expected reaction from his brother. Any trace of amusement vanished and thick silence hung between them.

“Gargamel’s back?” Ethan frowned. “What does he want?”

“The Beckham Grimoire.”

“Oh, hell. They’re starting that again?”

“They never stopped. They were simply biding time until Warrick’s numbers were up. According to Fly Boy that I sent through our window, Warrick’s numbers are up. That’s not all,” Archer said in a soft tone that had Ethan look at him. “They want Sienna.”

“They won’t find her.”

“Apparently they know where she is.”

Ethan gave a brief snort. “We’re her Keepers. If we don’t know where Sienna is, then how the hell would they?”

Archer shrugged his shoulders, not bothering to hide his concern. His brother knew how he felt about Sienna, how her disappearance tormented him.

And two days ago, Archer had found her – only to have her blindside him and vanish again. He swore that if he ever saw her again, he’d wring her pretty little neck himself.

Keeper’s promise be damned.

“Still no sensing her?” Ethan asked, rolling up his sleeves.

None. Zero. Zilch. “No. She still wears her necklace. Until she removes it, I can’t track her or reach her.”

The necklace blocked him from her in a way that drove him crazy. He’d always had a connection to her unlike his brothers, until she’d cast a spell on her necklace, severing their connection eternally.

“Rose could do another locator spell?”

“Sienna’s already covered that angle, but I’ll chat to Rose again.”

“Any readings from Fly Boy?”

“Only that he works for Warrick.” Archer spun around to face his brother as a thought struck him. “If they know where she is, then I should be able to sense her through him.” He’d been too surprised to discover Warrick’s name that it hadn’t occurred to him at the time of the attack.

Ethan looked doubtful and glanced at the mess on the ground. “Not unless Fly Boy left a gift behind. Without something of his, you won’t make the connection.” He knelt, reached for a piece of broken glass, and studied it in silence. Straightening, he turned to look at Archer with a wide smile, and held out his hand to reveal the blood stained glass. “Blood should work?”

“You bet your ass it’ll work.”

Several minutes later, Archer’s fingers closed over the bloody glass with such force that his knuckles turned white. “Oh, God.”

Ethan’s gaze shot up to meet Archer’s, and he frowned when he saw his brother’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

“They have her.” Archer swallowed, trying to get a grip on the emotions triggered by the thought. “Those bastards have Sienna.”

Damn. Her attackers had given her Rose Thorn.

A useless herb for most, but to witches, the tiny plant had the ability to weaken and strip her of her powers.

Sienna was furious. For two years, she’d packaged her powers in a neat little box and stored them away until the day she’d need them again.

Today, she needed them – really needed them – but the herb had ravished her, destroying any chances of accessing them. For now anyway.

The loss of control unnerved her. It was one thing choosing not to channel her powers. Being stripped of that choice was another thing entirely.

She glanced around the room, trying to make sense of where they’d taken her. An abandoned house – sparsely furnished, darkened windows. The stuff horror movies were made of. Of everything, the quiet surroundings frightened her. Without her powers, she had little chance of freeing herself from these men and a little neighbourly assistance would have been nice.

“She’s awake,” her first attacker said, the man from the park, motioning toward her.

“Who are you?” she asked, but had to clear her throat. God, she was so thirsty.

“Call me Harper.”

She eyed Harper, sizing him up. Where he lacked height, he made up with bulk and attitude. The man had a menacing aura around him that had Sienna immediately on edge. She glanced at the other two men skulking in the background. It didn’t take rocket science to figure out who was running this circus.

Trying not to wince, she struggled to her feet, but her legs buckled beneath her and she slumped against the tattered couch. Before she could try again, Harper had his booted foot on her back.

“Down, witch.”

“Brave to mess with a Beckham witch, aren’t you?”

“Stupid to walk without your Keepers, aren’t you?”

“What do you want with me?”

He smiled, but the smile held more evil than amusement. “Warrick Brogan has big plans for you.”

The warlock’s name sent an instant chill down her spine and Sienna had to concentrate on masking her surprise. It was hard to think that the man had once been a friend to her and the Bennett brothers. Now, the mention of his name made her stomach clench. “Warrick Brogan can kiss my ass.”

“Now who’s brave?”

“I’m not afraid of you.” She was pleased that her voice sounded steady, even though her insides were rolling.

Harper waved the syringe at her. “You should be. Without your powers, you’re no challenge to us.”

“And without me, my powers are of no use to you so why am I here?”

“You haven’t figured it out yet?” He sat on the table in front of her, the ancient wood creaking beneath his weight, and leaned closer. “You’re a witch from a lineage of even more powerful witches. What’s the one thing we could possibly want?”

The Beckham Grimoire.

Sienna’s heart sank. Of course. She should’ve known this was about the damn book. She was destined to keep her family’s Grimoire safe – a thick book of handwritten notes that listed all the rituals, spells, potions, formulas, and magical properties ever used by a Beckham witch. To someone like Warrick Brogan, the book was lethal.

And everything her parents and Archer’s parents had fought for, and eventually died for, would be for nothing.

Their vision of a life where supernatural people could live in harmony with ordinary people would truly be up in flames.

Over a century ago, six families: the Bennetts, the Beckhams, the Brogans, and three other, ordinary families had founded Rapid Falls, a small abandoned area once thought to have an abundance of mystical energy. Over time, they’d established a thriving community.

Their agreement had been simple. They lived and worked in harmony and kept any supernatural tendencies a secret. No harming humans, no public displays of supernatural abilities. For the longest time, their agreement had worked, until a few generations later; Warrick’s parents had developed a different vision. Instead of a peaceful existence, their vision consisted of freedom, control, and exposure. A feud had broken out, altering their friendship circle forever. In the end, her parents and Archer’s parents had lost the battle.

Sienna still remembered the fire as vividly as though it had just happened. The image of her house engulfed in thick orange flames and the horror of knowing their parents were inside had affected her forever.

When suspicion had fallen on Warrick’s parents, they’d left town. Then, in a brutal car accident, they died – leaving Brogan and Warrick as orphans, and taking the truth of the fire to the grave.

It hadn’t been long before the two brothers had made it clear that they shared the same views as their parents and would do anything, hurt anyone, in order to have the freedom and control their parents had fought for.

Like hell.

She would die before she handed over her Grimoire.

“I don’t have it,” she said firmly, shoving away the anger and resentment stewing inside.

“But you know where it is and according to the legend, we need a Beckham witch to open it. Warrick seems to think you’ll also know the location of all four stones.”

“Chasing the book is like chasing a rainbow. You’ll never get close, and you’ll certainly never hit gold.”

“It exists and we’ll not only find it, Sienna, we’ll open it.”

She touched a hand to her pounding head, willing the pain away. The blinding headache only clouded her already murky thoughts. It was hard enough to think clearly with Harper pointing a syringe of Rose Thorn at her. The damn headache had to go.

She knew precisely why Warrick wanted the Grimoire. She was simply surprised he’d taken so long to come for it.

Two years ago, in a desperate attempt to bring an end to the wicked hold the Brogan brothers had on everyone, Sienna and her grandmother had cast a spell. Mason Brogan, the older and bigger evil of the two brothers, was spelled into an abandoned underground church tomb deep inside the forests of their hometown, cursed to live as the dead until ever freed. As for the younger brother, Warrick Brogan, they’d cast a spell on him to diminish his powers, underestimating his evilness.

Warrick had retaliated, killing Sarah Bennett, her fourth Keeper and dearest friend. That night had altered the course of their lives and the reality of Sarah’s death had sent everything reeling out of place.

Without his brother or his powers, Warrick had simply vanished.

Until now.

If Warrick ever got his hands on the book and the four stones that were the key to opening it, he’d access the spell binding Mason, and could then unseal the curse.

“Have you found the other stones yet?” Sienna asked, her stomach rolling at the thought.

He grinned, meeting her eyes. “We’re working on it.”

“Even if you find the book, you’ll never be able to open it.”

“They all warned me that I’d never catch a Beckham witch, but here you are.” He kicked at the rope around her ankles. “Bound, weak, useless.” Pleased with himself, he started to chuckle.

“I’ll never help you.”

“You will or people will die. You’re a witch so you’ll never let that happen.” He trailed a calloused finger along her jaw and down to the silver necklace around her neck, his touch light, yet harsh at the same time. “Beautiful necklace.” His fingers clasped around the solid pendant and toyed for a moment before yanking it off her.

“No!” Eyes widened in disbelief as her hands flew to the spot on her neck where the necklace had hung for the last two years.

“A family heirloom?”

His mocking tone stirred the lull inside of her and fury sparked a sudden burst of renewed strength. Sienna pushed at his chest and he stumbled backward. Stronger than her, he recovered with the speed of a demon and pounced.

His slap was brutal. “You’re weak, Sienna. Nothing you do can harm me.”

“I won’t always be weak,” she said, hating that he was right. The effects from the Rose Thorn still ravaged her and until the dreaded herb left her system, she would never be able to fight him off.

“But just to be sure …” he said with a wicked smile and brought the syringe toward her.

She baulked in fear, panic taking its destructive grip. “You can’t!” She tried to back away from him, but stumbled against the couch behind her. “A second dose so soon could be deadly.”

He grinned and closed in on her. “A gamble.”

“No!” she screamed as all three men held her down and injected her with the dreaded herb. The affect was instant and her body went completely limp. She fought for consciousness, tried to claw her way out of the blackness.

And lost.

Much later, she resurfaced long enough to hear the shouting, breaking glass and violence - terrifying sounds that rattled her to the core. She tried to open her eyes, to make sense of the chaos around her, but sleep beckoned.

Then silence fell.

Confusion reigned and she couldn’t move, couldn’t fight back. Alone. She was so alone and at the mercy of these three men.

And out of the darkness, she saw him.

Archer.

“Sienna,” Archer murmured, kneeling beside her. “It’s over.”

“Archer?”

“It’s okay, we’re here. You’re safe now.”

Strong arms drew her in as the blackness engulfed her again.

Her Keepers had found her.