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

my father and brothers that I’d saved Drake’s life by finally managing some pretty decent spells. I hadn’t gotten to the weird shadow on top of the crane yet, because I wanted to revel in their appreciation of my magical skills. After I was done basking in their praise, I’d finish filling them in.
    At least that was my plan had things gone my way. I should’ve known better.
    Instead of cheers and rounds of applause, I got silence.
    My father sat with his arm extended across the back of the couch. His distant gaze told me he’d retreated to his thoughts. Why the hell did he look so concerned? Wasn’t this what he’d always wanted?
    Pierce was lying on the couch, his hands covering his face, while Thad sat rigidly on the piano bench to my left.
    “What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked. For the first time in my life, I’d actually gotten something right with magic, and they couldn’t at least pretend to be happy for me. “Did you not hear what I said?”
    “We heard you,” Thad replied. If his words had been daggers, I’d be bleeding. “Did you hear yourself?”
    “What the hell does that mean?”
    “Are you fucking serious?” Pierce asked. He bolted upright. “You can’t be that much of a fucking dipshit, can you?”
    I’d had about all I could take. I leaped onto the couch and landed on top of Pierce. My right fist connected with his jaw before he had a chance to blink. By the time my left fist struck, he’d managed to shove me backward. I landed with a thud on the mahogany wood flooring, and a few seconds later, Pierce had me pinned. He raised his massive fist, ready to deliver one powerful haymaker, when he suddenly flew off me and slammed into the ceiling, his arms and legs splayed.
    My father stood in front of the couch, his right hand upturned and his arm at a forty-five degree angle in front of him. With just a gesture, he’d managed to not only lift my brother off me but keep him confined to the ceiling until his temper tantrum subsided. Dad’s stern expression told us he’d been pushed beyond the limits of his patience.
    “Dad,” Pierce gasped from above. “Stop.”
    But our father didn’t listen. He growled at me sprawled on the floor. There was that damned warlock temper again, and when my father lost it, the ramifications could be deadly. I half closed my eyes, waiting for him to turn his powers on me. Unlike the rest of us, he didn’t have to speak Latin to call forth his abilities. He’d long since evolved beyond spoken magic; a gesture got the job done. I was thankful he wasn’t like the members of the Conclave. Their thoughts triggered their powers, and right now, my father’s thoughts would have likely ripped me in two.
    Thad stepped between him and me. His typically clipped tone had softened. “Dad, stop.” His whisper of a voice broke through our father’s anger. “You’re crushing Pierce.”
    He glanced at the ceiling, where the force of his magic continued to push against his oldest son. He shook off the red haze that had momentarily blinded him and turned his hand palm down, lowering it about ten inches.
    The force applied against Pierce eased, and he slowly descended from the ceiling until he was gently placed on the couch.
    “I shouldn’t have done that,” Dad said to Pierce. Apologizing, even when it was necessary, didn’t come easily for him either. “I let my temper get the best of me.”
    Pierce nodded. He clearly feared reigniting the anger that had almost flattened him into a pancake. Either I wasn’t as scared of our father as he was, or I was dumber than Pierce said I looked, because once Pierce was safe, I jumped up and let Dad have it. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”
    “Mason,” Thad whispered. He placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Not now.”
    I shrugged off his touch and snarled at him over my shoulder. He stepped back in surprise. Once I was satisfied Thad was going to keep his mouth shut, I faced our father. “You