Read Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge 01 - Spell Bound for Free Online Page A

Drake, it seemed to be much more than that, and I had no clue why.
    “We’re here,” my father said as he parked. He turned around in his seat and glared at me. “And do your best to behave yourself, okay?”
    I nodded. Dad was right. I had to stay focused on our duties. Drake was going to have to wait.
    We exited the Jaguar and strolled down the sidewalk, which ended at a two-story Victorian-style home. Dad had told us many years ago that it was Folk Victorian. I didn’t really care. The house was pretty but simple, certainly nothing like the sprawling elegance of our place.
    A covered porch with a beige-painted wood railing stood at the center of the house, tucked between two bay windows on either side. Gray shingles decorated the second story of the house all the way to the cornice that eventually formed two gables, one each to the left and right of the porch. They were as sharp in design as a stereotypical witch’s hat. No doubt the white-magic Debbie Downers like Miranda Proctor hated that part of the architecture.
    But this house wasn’t where witches or their white magic lived. It belonged to the Stonewalls, wizards of the Order of the Gray. They sought balance above all else, and their magic and their lives were ruled by devotion to stability and order. It was even reflected in their style of house.
    “I hate coming to these things,” I said as we drew nearer to the front door. The drone of dozens of voices merged into a constant buzz as a strange brew of magical beings mixed inside. “They’re so dull. I’d rather french-kiss Miranda.”
    Pierce snorted while Thad remained distant. He had yet to forgive me for sending him flying across the lawn. “Yes, well, as much as I’m sure you’d enjoy kissing a girl, this is what we do,” my father said as he ascended the four wooden steps to the porch. “Mabon is an equinox and ruled by gray magic.”
    Like I didn’t know that already. Mabon was a time to give thanks for what we had and honor the darker aspects of life, calling upon that which was devoid of light. Through meditation, communing, and giving, we celebrated the balance by which the world survived. “But the Stonewalls are so boring.”
    My father spun around on his heels.
    “You’ve done it again,” Pierce whispered after an impatient sigh. Thad simply chuffed in contempt.
    “Mason, why do you feel the need to provoke me and question every part of our culture? Of our species’ tradition? You may not embrace your magic the way the rest of us do, but we have been blessed, and part of that blessing is being thankful for that gift, whether it’s for gray magic and Mabon, the white magic of Ostara, or the black magic of Samhain.”
    I twisted my lips in regret. Apologizing never came easy for a Blackmoor. Thankfully, father understood the gesture.
    He leaned in closer to the three of us, an impish grin lighting on his lips before he sighed. “I agree with you about the Stonewalls, though,” he whispered. “They’re bland and tiresome, but they are a protector coven, as we are, and we have to work within the laws to which we are all bound, right?” When we all nodded in unison, he smiled and straightened. “Besides, no one can be as badass or awesome as us.”
    I grinned in reply while Pierce pumped his right fist in the air and hooted. Thad, who always looked as if he felt like he was wasting his time when his nose wasn’t buried in books, crossed his arms and tapped his foot.
    Suddenly the door opened. Miranda stood at the threshold, wearing a white button-down blouse and floral skirt. She nodded respectfully at my father and thinned her lips at my brothers. When her gaze settled on me, she frowned. “You’re almost late,” she mumbled under her breath, then waved a finger at the door. It opened all the way, causing the droning voices to spill out onto the porch.
    “Almost late isn’t late,” my father replied. He walked past her without another word and my brothers trailed him