Blood Tied by Jacob Z. Flores Page B

the heads of the two families with cool cordiality before welcoming them into our home. He didn’t like them, and they didn’t like him. Still, we were the protector covens, and together we guarded the Gate and celebrated the Sabbats like one big, extended, dysfunctional family.
    But unlike our parents, the children they had produced didn’t follow the established tradition of intolerance among the different types of magic. Though we tried to keep it from our parents, we liked each other well enough. Well, except for Mason and Miranda Proctor. The same went for Pierce and Miranda’s brother, Adam. When we were younger, they used to be close. Now, they could barely stand to be in the same room with each other. Once, I asked Pierce what had happened, but he’d told me to “mind my own fucking business.” I never brought it up again.
    “Should I set this up at the usual spot?” Adam Proctor asked, holding up a triangular table that would serve as the altar for their dead. He was the oldest of his witchy siblings, with eyes so light blue they were almost gray. He wore black pants and a white button-down that made him look like a waiter.
    “Yeah, same place as last year,” I answered with a nod down the hall to the library.
    Edith and Elliot Stonewall, one of the sets of twin wizards, followed Adam, carrying their altar between them. They were in Mason’s class at high school. Elliot, who was mute, smiled at me as he passed in his gray corduroy pants and beige shirt. Even though he couldn’t speak, he used his telepathy to hold a conversation. The problem was it usually resulted in a migraine for whomever he chatted with. He was a sweet guy, and we used to study together at the library. His sister took a little getting used to. She had on a long skirt and frilly blouse in the exact same color scheme as her brother’s, but she didn’t bother to acknowledge me. She was a typical gray-magic wizard, aloof and coldly logical. She and I had at least that much in common.
    “You seem distracted.”
    I turned to find Charlotte Proctor standing behind me. The glint in her brown eyes matched the friendly smile on her lips. As always, she wore modest clothing—white blouse and a long yellow skirt—unlike her younger sister, Miranda, who preferred a more seductive appearance. Charlotte was the friendliest of the Proctor coven and one of the nicest people I knew. She was also a middle child like I was, so the two of us had often commiserated about the inherent joys of being bookended by siblings who irritated us.
    “I am,” I reluctantly admitted.
    “What have your brothers done now?” she asked, brushing a stray bang out of her eyes.
    “Just their usual teasing,” I said. My gaze drifted from Charlotte to Ben, who was in the middle of introducing himself to Charlotte’s parents in the living room. “But it’s not them. It’s him,” I said gesturing toward Ben.
    She casually stole a glance behind her. “He’s cute. No wonder you’re distracted.” Besides sharing our sibling woes, Charlotte was the only person in Havenbridge with any knowledge about my personal life. She knew I dated both men and women, and she had never let on to anyone that she knew more than she did.
    I always appreciated her discretion. “It’s not that.”
    She crossed her arms and glared up at me.
    “Okay, it’s not just that.”
    “Then what?”
    I told her the story of how Ben and I had met and how he’d come to Havenbridge.
    “I’ll admit it’s a big coincidence, but what about it has you so irritated?”
    “It doesn’t feel right.” That didn’t quite express what I was feeling. It felt all kinds of wrong.
    Charlotte placed her hand on my forearm and patted me, trying to give me the comfort I needed. She had always been a mother hen. “I think you might be reading too much into this,” she said. “After everything we’ve been through since Mabon, it’s no wonder. Vampyre attacks and a mysterious shadow