Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge 01 - Spell Bound by Jacob Z. Flores Page A

evidently believed I had somehow gotten them into trouble too. “We obviously need to have a discussion.”
    “About what?” Pierce asked. “What did Mason say we did? Because it’s not true.”
    I chuffed. “Will you grow a pair already?”
    “Fuck you, Mason! I’m not the one who screwed up again.”
    “I thought you were twenty-eight, not twelve.”
    Pierce clenched his fist in anger, sending sparks of electricity crackling through the air.
    “Enough.” Dad’s voice immediately stopped our arguing and reined in Pierce’s powers. Pierce sat back and faced forward, and I did the same. “You made a serious error tonight, Mason. And your lack of understanding gravely concerns me.”
    “Just what did I do?”
    Father glanced at Thad, who nodded in reply. He stood and proceeded to the iron coffee table that squatted between our dad and us. He turned to face me. Disappointment and exasperation were in the hazel eyes that reminded me too much of our mom. She too had often looked at me much the same way.
    “You challenged the very premise upon which our community is founded,” he said. “The different orders of magic exist for our safety. Separating our races wasn’t some arbitrary decision made generations ago to complicate our lives. It safeguards us. If you’d studied our Grimoire, or any of the other books in this house, as much as I do, you’d know that already.”
    If I’d had an active power, Thad would be feeling the brunt of it right now. “I’m not an idiot. I know that. We all know that. All I was suggesting was that we don’t need these divisions among our orders. We’re charged with protecting the Gate. Wouldn’t doing that together instead of separately be more effective?”
    “No,” Thad said without a moment’s hesitation. “Our species has been hunted to near extinction from the moment we evolved as the homo magus . When we intermingled, we exposed ourselves to danger. It has only been withdrawing from human society, separating ourselves from them, that has allowed our species to thrive.”
    “It’s also made us shortsighted bigots,” I added.
    “It has also kept us pure,” Thad said. “Or don’t you remember our history?”
    “That was almost three thousand years ago, Thad. I think we’ve evolved a bit more since then, don’t you?”
    “You just don’t get it.” It was Dad’s turn to speak. “How can gray magic remain neutral if it is constantly influenced by white or black? How could white magic promote spiritual connections if tainted by the selfish nature of our ways? For that matter, how would our black magic fare if we didn’t focus on our individual wants or needs? In order for us to remain safe, for all magic to remain stable, and for this world to persist, we have to exist as we are and as the Gate meant for us to be. To abandon those rules and our roles would threaten everything there is. Whether anyone likes it or not, our traditions must be followed.”
    I still didn’t buy it. There were huge holes in his logic, but everyone refused to see them. “If what you say is true, then why does the Conclave work together? They don’t seem to be destroying our way of life.”
    “That’s because their connection to the Gate is stronger than ours. The picture they see is bigger than what the rest of us see, and their combined power ensures stability is maintained and the rules that allow it are followed. When you question the rules, you question them.” Dad paused, no doubt for effect. “And no one wants to do that, right?”
    I swallowed hard. Considering how powerful each member of the Conclave was individually, I couldn’t imagine the power they wielded together. But that only made me more curious about the need for the divisions. Did keeping us separate keep them in power? Would banding together somehow threaten that? But those were questions I wasn’t going to voice. I was in enough hot water as it was.
    My father cleared his throat, wanting an