Ties That Bind: a New Adult Fantasy Novel (The Spire Chronicles Book 2)

by Ashley Meira

  “I like you,” I said.

  He winked at me. “Right back at you.”

  “Tamlin,” Catherine chastised.

  “What?” he said with an adorable pout. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Catherine chuckled, shaking her head. “Anyway, what we know doesn’t matter as much as how we can prove it.”

  “Think Wright’s dumb enough to leave that stuff in his house?” Tamlin asked.

  “I think he’s too paranoid to store those things anywhere else,” I said. “I know I would be. But…”

  “But?” said Alex.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know how well I’d be able to sleep with those things in the house. They’re pretty, well, evil. There was literally a dark cloud around the dagger.”

  He raised a brow. “I did not see a cloud.”

  “In these situations, you see what the spirit saw and felt, but any further observations you yield are by your own abilities. Morgan’s magical ability allows her to see things normal people cannot.” Catherine whispered something to Tamlin, and he left the room.

  “Mister I See Dead People is not normal,” I said.

  Alex narrowed his eyes at me, but I detected no malice. “We need to find those weapons and take them out of circulation. There is a reason we hand that stuff over to the Council.”

  Alex turned to Catherine. “You’re a witch–”

  “Shaman.”

  He nodded. “What did you observe?”

  “Whoever or whatever made those is very powerful. They’ve also likely allied themselves with a great evil,” she said, a shadow crossing over her face. If this was able to prompt such a somber expression from her, I didn’t doubt how grave it was. “Those hunters did an abominable thing of their own volition, but as you saw, the man who wielded the knife seemed to grow more and more depraved.”

  “You think he was influenced by the knife?” said Alex.

  “Dude, evil black cloud of magical evil,” I said.

  Tamlin came back with tea and some quiet mumblings about why they couldn’t invest in some tea bags because he sucked at making tea the old fashioned way. I think he did alright. The tea was bitter, but it was nothing a little sugar wouldn’t fix. My nose wrinkled as I took another sip. Okay, a lot of sugar.

  “The more powerful an item, the more likely it is to have horrible side effects, regardless of the intentions with which it was made,” said Catherine. She brought the tea cup up to her lips and frowned. “Tamlin.”

  “Yes?” he asked reluctantly.

  “You used five handfuls didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.” His pale brows knitted together. “It’s the number of people plus one–”

  “Minus, dear. Minus one.”

  Tamlin pursed his lips, reaching over to slide the sugar over to his mother. “Plus one sugar, then.”

  “Are there more of you?” I asked. “I’d like it if there were more of you.”

  “One of him is more than enough, I assure you,” Catherine said, reaching for the sugar. It ended up being plus three sugars, which is why I hated math.

  “Getting back to the topic at hand,” said Alex, “Wright spends most of his time working with Sir Wallace, so we need to find a time when he’s gone to search his home.”

  “If he’s keeping that stuff in his house, he’ll have guards,” I said, noting Alex hadn’t put any sugar in his tea. I don’t know how I’d react if he asked for cream.

  “Maybe it’ll be a creepy mansion filled with booby traps,” said Tamlin. “You could always lure him here for us to interrogate.”

  “You mean torture,” said Alex.

  “What happened to my friends was torture,” Tamlin said, all traces of humor fading from his face. He looked like an adult, albeit a young one, for the first time all night. “What will happen to him is justice.”

  “Sullivan will not allow such a thing,” said Catherine. “It will be difficult enough to mollify him about what happened to the other hunters, even if they were guilty.”

  “You want me to talk to him?” Tamlin asked. All maturity left his features as an excited gleam shone in his eyes. He seemed more than happy for a chance to speak with Sullivan, even if meant getting yelled at.

  “That is not a conversation you can handle,” she said. “Besides, he’d still be mad at me for keeping it from him.”

  Warning bells went off in my head and I glanced at Alex, who gave me a confused look of his own. “How do you know Sullivan again?”

  “The tribal leaders and their shamans meet with him twice a year to discuss things,” she said. “We met there.”

  “That is both informative and vague,” I told her.

  “They don’t let you be shaman until you master that,” said Tamlin.

  An amused smile tugged at Catherine’s already quirked lips. “If you want to know more, then perhaps you should ask him.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “we don’t really have that kind of relationship. Y’know, where we actually speak to each other.”

  “I’m told your friend wasn’t very forthcoming during his time with us,” Catherine said, turning to Alex. The sudden veer from the topic of my father only made me more suspicious. “Perhaps you can get more information from him.”

  “Your torture didn’t work, so you want me to try,” he said.

  Tamlin had a look on his face that said, “Dude, this again?” and I felt guilty for agreeing with him. Not that guilty, though, considering what Tom had been party to. After experiencing what the victims went through, I couldn’t help but feel personally invested in this. I was surprised Alex didn’t feel the same. His connection to Tom must’ve been stronger than I thought. I guess I’d still have a huge soft spot for my best friend, even if I found out they’d been doing fucked up shit like this. I’d want to get their side of the story, to understand what made them do this.

  I squeezed his hand. “Alex, please.”

  “I can’t believe you’re okay with this.” The disappointment on his face made me feel worse than any look Rowan had ever given me.

  “They captured you, too. You weren’t in those visions, but they still kept you strung up. Tom told me what they did to him. They could’ve done the same to you.”

  “We wouldn’t–” Tamlin stood up, but his mother pulled him back down with a shake of her head.

  “I won’t do it,” said Alex. “What Tom did was horrible, but it doesn’t excuse your actions. We already have a lead with Wright’s house, we don’t need to speak with him. And if we do, we’ll get the answers on our own.”

  “Like you tried at the prison?” I said. “Because that wasn’t exactly friendly, either.” It was the wrong thing to say, but I was exhausted after that 3D séance, and my mouth was hard enough to control at the best of times.

  “That was different.”

  “How?”

  “I was looking for Tom,” he exclaimed, ripping his hand away and standing up. “He’d been captured, Morgan.”

  “And they were looking for the man behind the torture and murder of their friends and family.” My temper flared at his stubbornness but I tried to keep my voice calm. “How are we different? Have you already forgotten what the spirits showed you? We just lived through that agony, Alex, except we’re a million times luckier because we’re still alive.”

  Unable to keep my anger in check, I shook my head and made my way out of Catherine’s home before I said something I would regret. It was as if all the sentiment we shared in the basement was gone. Fuck relationships, they were way too complicated. I never had this problem when I was sleeping with Ipos. That had been a great time. We joked, chatted, had great sex, and never had an argument that lasted longer than it took to reach a bed – or any other solid surface where we weren’t likely to be disturbed. This, though? With all the feelings and the disagreements and being a mature adult in a committed relationship? It was all way too hard; I didn’t know if it was worth the pain. I let out a frustrated groan. Fuck. This.


  The cold air calmed me down a little, but all that did was let the guilt back in. I didn’t know anymore. I understood why Alex was channeling his inner butthead, but why couldn’t he at least try to be civil until we were alone? He could vent at me all he wanted, I could take it; I understood. Insulting these guys would only make things worse. They’d suffered, too.

  I wandered over to the bonfire and held my hands near the flames. It was silent now, the few people we’d seen upon entering were long gone, their doors locked and their windows closed. The atmosphere would have been unnerving at another time, but now I relished the peace. If Alex didn’t want to use Tom, then we’d have to sneak into Wright’s house and hope for the best. It was another goddamn bad choice versus bad choice. I must’ve been a genocidal tyrant in a past life or something.

  How would we get in, though? We needed proof to launch a formal investigation, and we needed to investigate to find proof. It was a catch-22 to the max and I hated it. Sneaking in meant dealing with private guards, which meant fighting, which meant people might call the city guards to investigate the noise, which brought us back to: Fuck. This.

  I could sneak into Wright’s house using an invisibility spell. It’d probably give me an aneurysm with every step I took, but it was possible. There was no way I’d be able to cast the spell over more than one person; I didn’t even know if anyone could do that. Once again, I found myself wishing I was in Harry Potter so I could steal an invisibility cloak.

  I’d need to get mana potions, they would help take the edge off. Though it might be more beneficial to do the spell without any potions to help build my strength and tolerance.

  “It would probably be better to practice that in a less dangerous situation,” I muttered aloud, watching a thick cloud of fog form at the words.

  “Probably,” a deep voice said from behind me. I turned around to see the giant mass of muscles that made up Alistair. He flashed me a devilishly handsome grin and said, “I have no idea what you are referring to, but probably.”

  I smiled back. “And here I thought you were all business.”

  “There is a time for business,” he said, “and a time for pleasure.”

  Purposefully ignoring the very sultry undertone in his voice – and blaming the fire for the way my face heated up – I said, “We… I will be attempting to retrieve the evidence needed to convict Wright.”

  “And your friend?” Alistair asked, crossing his arms.

  “Alex is a good man,” I said. “He’s hurt now, but I know he’ll do the right thing when he heals.”

  “And if he doesn’t heal in time?”

  “That’s why I’m here. I want to make one thing clear, though.”

  There was an amused glint in the alpha’s eyes. “Oh?”

  I took a step closer to him, taking in the scent of pine and Alistair’s unique masculine musk. Mm, I needed to meet more werewolves. “Both Wright and Tom will pay for what they’ve done. Our way. No more kidnapping, no more killing, no more shifters drinking their grief away and picking fights with hunters in the city. They will be dealt with and no one else will get hurt. It ends with those two.”

  Alistair looked down at me, the amusement in his eyes dancing as wildly as the flames beside us. He bared his teeth in a smile, the action making him look five times more handsome and ten times more intimidating. “We have a deal. Handle your men; Joshua and I will do the same.”

  “Joshua is the leader of the Levin tribe?”

  “Pride,” he said. “They are a pride. We are a pack. It is easier for the humans to use tribe, so we do not correct them, but I’m sure you won’t have a problem remembering.”

  “I’ll try my best.” I held my hand out and he enveloped it in his much larger one, shaking it.

  “She’s a bit young for you, Uncle,” Tamlin said, coming up to us with that mischievous smile.

  Alistair’s deep, hearty laugh rang out through the empty village center. “And too wild for you, boy.”

  “Yes,” he said dryly, “that’s the problem.”

  Alistair clapped his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you to work your very limited charms on our guest here.”

  “Limited?” Tamlin gasped, placing a hand on his chest while wearing a look of false outrage.

  “Indeed. But use it while you can, that boyish charm of yours will stop working in a few years.” Alistair gave me one last smile. “Good night, Morgan.”

  I bid him good night, wondering if my mother had actually been a Garou shaman; I certainly seemed to have a lot more in common with these two than I expected. We were silent as we watched the wide frame of the alpha’s shoulders grow smaller and smaller until they finally disappeared into the darkness. Once he was gone, Tamlin leaned forward, filling my vision with his smooth skin and bright eyes.

  He waved, wiggling his fingers like a little kid. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” I said with silly grin. What a cutie. “What’s up?”

  “Do you trust your boyfriend?” he asked with all the subtly of a battering ram. It seemed he took after his uncle more than his mother. “I mean, he’s your boyfriend, so duh. But do you think he might try to go behind your back, maybe even speak to his friend?”

  “To ask him for information or an explanation? Maybe. To warn to him run? No. Alex wouldn’t do that. He’s hurt and betrayed, but he knows right from wrong. He’s like Robo-cop. Justice is in his blood. He’ll do the right thing.”

  “Are you sure?” He asked, his expression dropping. “I just want to make sure everything goes okay. We’re a pretty close pack. Well, all packs are close, that’s why they’re–”

  “Tamlin.”

  “Right, sorry.” He sighed. “It’s just…those people were my friends, my family.”

  I placed a hand on his shoulder. Standing there, Tamlin looked like a little boy. I’d forgotten how young he really was; eighteen may have been the age the law recognized you as an adult, but it was still too young to handle any of this. Protean and Garou had long life spans, sure, but death was always hard to deal with. I thought of Lady Cassandra, and suddenly the giant fire roaring next to me seemed to lose all its power.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I promise the people responsible will be caught.”

  He looked down at me, his pale blue eyes glistening in the firelight. “Promise?”

  Oh, sweetheart. “I promise. It’ll all be over soon.”

  He nodded and brought an arm up to rub his eyes. “Don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.”

  “Sure.” I giggled. Crap, I shouldn’t have done that – teenage boys didn’t like being laughed at. “Y’know, ladies love a man who knows how to cry.”

  “Shut up,” he grumbled, shooting me a petulant look. It was too cute for me to worry about having annoyed a werewolf; I half expected his wolf form to be a teeny tiny puppy. He shuffled his feet side to side, avoiding eye contact. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why do you hate your father?”

  Nope. Nuh-uh. Red alert, red alert, we have a hell no situation over here. “I… Huh?” Nice. Smooth as gravel, Morgan.

  “He’s a cool guy,” said Tamlin. “He’s nice, funny, smart, and he really cares about you–”

  “It sounds like you’re trying to set us up on a date, which is wrong on every level possible.”

  “The distance between the two of you hurts him,” he continued. “He blames himself–”

  “Well, he fucking should!” I reeled away from him, my magic frizzing the ends of my hair. “Why does everyone think they have the right to tell me how to handle my father? You, Rowan, Alex… It’s none of your damn business what goes on with him. What the hell makes everyone else such a fucking expert?!”

  “I just wanted to see if you guys could patch things up.” He looked like I just kicked his puppy, but I was too pissed to feel bad.

  “But why? Why are you so interested in what happens with my father?”

  He he
sitated a moment, eyes shifting around like a cat burglar. “Because he’s my father, too.”

  14

  It didn’t escape me that this was the third time I’d stormed away from a conversation in the past twenty-four hours, but I didn’t care. I mean, I had no idea how other people would handle being told the cute little kiddie werewolf they just met was their half-brother, but until someone handed me the manual, I was going to make it up as I went along.

  As usual. For some reason, that thought bothered me more than it should have. Maybe it was because I was twenty-six years old and my entire life was a giant mess of unanswered questions and put off decisions.

  Or maybe it was because I charged off into the forest in the middle of the night. Or maybe it was because I just tripped over another pebble; the damn things were sprouting up from the ground as I walked by, I swear. Wrapping my arms around myself, I sent heat from my fingertips into the rest of my body. The heat seared through me at first, like the jolt you got when you accidentally touched something hot, before it evened out into a pleasant warmth. I really needed to get better at controlling the amount of magic I put out. The last thing I wanted to be known for was always blowing my load too quickly.

  One of the primary challenges I had was either summoning forth too much or too little power. Too much and I burned myself out, or in this case, literally burned myself. If my output was too low, then I’d have to amp it up, which usually ended with me taking forever to bring it up or me jacking it up too high, which took me back to problem number one. At this particular moment, however, I was glad for the burst of scalding heat. It told me I wasn’t dreaming all of this up, though I wasn’t sure how good that really was.

  “Morgan!”

  I stopped dead and waited for Alex to catch up. Small puffs of white fog escaped his mouth and surrounded his face as he stopped in front of me. It made me wonder how far away I’d gotten for him to look so winded. He held out his hands, revealing my gun and holster.

  “They took it off you when you were captured earlier,” he said. I reattached the holster to my leg as Alex continued to speak. “Are you okay? Tamlin came back and told Catherine you ran off after he told you about his father.”