Blood Tied by Jacob Z. Flores Read Free Book Online Page B

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,