Pushing the thought aside while Adriana went to heal his cousin, Troy asked Bryant, “When did you get back?”
“Just in time to see you breaking Alec's nose,” he answered blandly.
Troy grumbled, leaning on the wall next to the door. His outbursts were definitely coming more frequently now, and it was harder to gain any satisfaction in merely punching a wall, or destroying inanimate objects such as furniture, which there wasn't a lot of around the manor anyway.
But instead of commenting on his fleeting sense of humanity, he merely inquired, “Did Trisha ask about the place?”
“Yeah, that's one of the things she wanted to know about.”
Trisha was always curious over how renovations were coming along—which was, in a word, slowly. The dining room where they stood was one of the few in the entire manor that had been fully modified, and only because it was an easy fix.
Though they'd been working on the place for nearly two months, it was estimated to be another five before the entire manor was liveable, eleven to bring everything up to speed. And in order to take care of all the smaller buildings located on the property?
A year and a half.
When they'd first arrived, the floors were rotting away in places, the walls had no insulation, and though the foundation was actually rather stable, the construction was simply outdated. There wasn't even any plumbing or ventilation—a testament to how old Braddock's Estate was. Windows were broken out, graffiti covered some of the walls, and several of the rooms had been littered with trash by trespassers who'd broken in over the years.
Still, the place had potential despite its current state, and Troy liked it. The design reminded him of a time when he was younger, potentially misspending his youth traveling from place to place without a care. To top it off, the grounds were fairly large, and the manor itself had fifteen bedrooms, indoor gardens, and an old library.
Inadvertently, he'd also picked up on a bit of the estate's history, learning that in the early nineteenth century, it'd served as a plantation before being purchased by a wealthy man named Abraham Braddock who had a reputation for aiding the needy. He'd even become a local legend when he'd disappeared without a trace, and despite investigations, his fate remained a mystery.
No one had lived in the manor since that time, and the only reason Troy knew anything about it was due to a news station that called to ask about the newest owners of the estate not long after they'd taken up residency. When he'd inquired to know why it was so important, they'd given him the story.
The Arkin City Council had even discussed turning the estate into a historical site for tourism, but the project was never picked up because it was too costly to have the manor renovated. So it's purchase was big news in a local sense.
Still, Troy didn't care about any of it, and promptly hung up on the reporter. That didn't stop a news crew from coming by to ask a ton of questions, but thankfully, Andi and Adriana both practiced witchcraft, and used a banishing spell to drive them away.
The past two months were definitely more peaceful for it.
Putting his mind back on the present, Troy listened as Bryant added, “I told Trisha how things were shaping up, and she seemed happy with the progress. Then Luther wanted to know if you'd gotten in touch with the lupines here yet.”
“What did you say?”
“Told him we know some things about them, but we haven't announced our presence because the manor is enough to keep us preoccupied.”
Though true, Troy had actually decided to keep a distance from the lupines simply because he was still turning Savage. As such, he didn't have the patience for diplomacy, and Trisha had explicitly directed them to be peaceful with their new neighbors the moment they'd learned that Arkin City was home to a lupine pack.
The race of mortal shifters that turned into wolves were sometimes mistaken for werewolves, but the two didn't have terribly much in common. Still, both species were instinctively territorial, which caused them to butt heads on a regular basis, so it was going to take some effort to make sure the lupines realized they weren't there to fight.
“Did he ask us to seek them out anyway?”
“Nah,” Bryant shook his head, “just said to take things slow.”
“Good.” Troy sighed, glad to hear there wasn't a rush, and with that question out of the way, he asked Adriana, “You said Trisha had a message for me?”
Stepping away from Alec, the fae suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, right, I almost forgot. She had special instructions for the full moon tonight and your hunt.”
“Let me guess,” Troy muttered, “it's been too long, so you're confining me.”
“No,” the fae countered, “she wants to let you hunt unsupervised.”
Simultaneously, Troy and both of the twins looked at Adriana like she'd grown a second head.
“She what?” Andi asked.
The fae simply nodded, and Bryant must've been absent for the discussion because even he sounded skeptical in asking, “Are you sure that's what she said?”
Adriana rolled her eyes. “Yes, Bryant, I'm sure. From the way it sounded, she had inside information, probably from Tanda.”
The fae gave Troy an encouraging smile, and he tried to maintain control over the eagerness that suddenly overcame him. If she was right, did it mean he was about to find his mate that night? Otherwise, why let a potentially dangerous werewolf go out by himself so close to a human community?
He nearly grumbled when the full moon would ensure he was at his least charming state of being, but the bigger part of him didn't care. As long as he finally found her and, gods willing, could temper this rage, the particulars didn't matter.
Alec suddenly grumbled as Troy thought it over, prompting Andi to ask, “What's wrong?”
“If Troy's going out alone tonight, my nose was just broken for nothing.”
Bryant snorted in amusement, then looked over at Troy, motioning to the exit. “I need to talk to you for a minute.”
With a nod, Troy pushed himself away from the wall, joining his uncle in the corridor where they proceeded to the living room. On the way, he asked, “Something wrong?”
“No, I was just wondering if you've made a decision about leading a pack here yet.”
With everything else going on, Troy had nearly forgotten Trisha's request that he take charge once the manor had been renovated, and shook his head. “Not really, but I guess it all depends on my mate and what she wants to do when everything's said and done.”
“True,” Bryant conceded. “You've just always been a lone wolf, and I wasn't sure what to expect.”
His uncertainty was understandable. Until recently, Troy had never stayed in the same place for more than a few decades, so this was all new territory to him. But when it came to deciding his role at the estate, he'd simply resolved to wait for his mate and see what she wanted.
As they came to a stop in the living room, which was only partially reconstructed, he told his uncle, “I don't know. I could easily lead a pack, it's just hard to give a shit when my only options at the moment are find my mate or die, and with the way I've been feeling lately, I'm leaning toward the latter.”
Bryant gave a solemn nod. “Yeah, going savage has a way of altering your perspective.”
“That's the damned truth,” he muttered. Though his uncle hadn't possessed orange eyes for quite as long before he found Adriana, Troy didn't doubt one bit that Bryant knew exactly how he felt now.
Turning to face his uncle, he asked, “Why do you wanna know? Adriana against you leading?”
“No, she said she wouldn't mind helping me Alpha this place. She's never spent much time in the states, so I think she's curious.” After mentioning that, he added thoughtfully, “Seems kind of cold here for her tastes though.”
Being a sun fae, Adriana preferred warmer climates by nature, and Troy qualified, “It gets pretty hot here during the summer if memory serves.”
Taking that in, Bryant suggested as if the thought was
appealing, “Guess I'll just have to find other ways to keep her warm until then.”
Troy couldn't help rolling his eyes, muttering, “Lucky bastard.”
“Hey, you're on the verge of finding your own mate, so stop with the jealous bullshit. I mean, no, she couldn't possibly be as good as mine, but it's something.”
The comment made him grin. Even if Troy's mate ended up being Aphrodite herself, Bryant would never be able to see beyond a pair of vivid amber eyes, golden hair, and a glowing complexion.
He just hoped he had a solid comparison to make soon, asking, “You really think it's a good idea to let me go out alone tonight? Or do you think Tanda has something up her sleeve?”
“I don't know, and I'm not gonna second guess that elf after finding Adriana, even with as frustrating as it was.”
Troy remembered the event well, and wasn't sure the word frustrating was the best way to describe it. More like a total pain in the ass. But before he could comment, a knock came to the front door—probably someone from the renovation crew who was locked out.
Walking over, he opened up, but it wasn't one of their hired hands on the other side. Instead, he was greeted by the face of a middle-aged woman with silvery blonde hair who was dressed for business.
She had a friendly smile to boot, but the cordial expression made no difference to Troy, who inquired gruffly, “What?”
“Hello, I'm Sally Gordon, a reporter for the Arkin Tribune.”
“So?”
Undaunted by his clipped attitude, the reporter went on, “So we're doing a story on the most haunted places in Arkin City and—”
“Good luck with that,” he interrupted, and promptly shut the door.
Turning around, he noticed Bryant shaking his head.
“What?”
“Sometimes I wonder if I was that impatient.”
Troy was ready to remind him of the fights they'd gotten into over next to nothing when the reporter started knocking again—and this time, the sound got under his skin.
Knowing his nephew would have a violent outburst if the woman annoyed him too much, Bryant stepped over to handle it, opening the door with the greeting, “Hey, sorry about my nephew. He hasn't had his afternoon nap and it's made him cranky.”
Troy rolled his eyes. Smartass.
“It's fine,” Sally replied. “I'm also sorry to be so insistent, and I realize this is private property now, but Braddock's Estate is at the top of our list. So I needed to get permission from the owners to look around. The Tribune would pay as well.”
“As nice as that sounds—”
“One thousand dollars,” Sally interrupted.
“We're not—”
“Per visit.”
With her continued interruptions, Bryant took a breath, saying she'd started trying his patience as well. But with more endurance for irritations than Troy possessed, he simply nodded and went on, “Sounds nice, but we're not interested. Maybe once more of the renovations are done and we're not so busy, you can come back, and pursue the other places on your list in the meantime.”
Troy almost wanted to laugh at how professional his uncle sounded when normally, neither of them cared to be so articulate. But Sally conceded, so it was a worthwhile effort.
“Alright,” she started, “I'll just let the paper know you need some time. Here, take my business card so we can keep in touch.”
Handing the item over, she thanked him and turned to go. Bryant shut the door, then looked the card over, musing, “So here's a question; what city newspaper wants to spend a fucking grand on a story like that?”
“One who's desperate,” Troy muttered, not really caring one way or the other.
But his uncle didn't look convinced by the simple explanation, inspecting the card in his hand for a moment before he apparently decided not to worry with it because he tore the item up.
Just as he'd tossed it into a nearby waste bin, Adriana entered the room, asking, “Was someone just here?”
“Yeah, another reporter,” Bryant answered.
“I guess our spell wore off,” she mused. “But I found a place in town that sells the supplies needed to recast it, so I'll go later today.”
After volunteering to make the trip, she gave her mate a sweet smile, stepping toward him with a playful glint in her amber eyes, and mentioned, “Right now, I'm going out for some fresh air. Care to join me?”
Obviously suckered, Bryant slipped an arm over her shoulder in acceptance, answering, “Wouldn't miss it.” Then he told Troy, “Try not to tear the place down while I'm out.”
“We'll see,” Troy returned, and it'd taken a good amount of control to sound so relaxed when his uncle's joke had actually chaffed—just as watching the werewolf exit with his mate at his side did. The two looked so happy together that, as soon as the door shut, Troy growled with the effort of containing his anger.
He wanted the same kind of companionship so badly he could almost taste it, the beast in him prowling discontentedly, feeling slighted and jealous, and no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he'd find her soon, it wouldn't be consoled.
The abyss was about to swallow him whole.
Chapter 3
“Whoa, Heather, not so much sage.”
“So much? I used a pinch.”
“Then think half a pinch.”
The young woman's shoulders slumped at Aislinn's advice. “What's the point of half a pinch if this is a protection tonic and sage is one of the strongest protection herbs?”
“Because we don't have much right now,” Aislinn answered, giving Heather a smile. “Don't worry, the tonic will work as long as Sage is actually in it. More doesn't mean stronger in this case.”
“Since when?”
“Since we're working on tonics and not aromatherapy items.”
Conceding the point with a nod, Heather got back to work. She and Aislinn had been busy all morning trying to fill an order for a fae who'd come in at random, claiming to be new in town. She'd also promised to bring in a ton of business with some acquaintances who practiced the Craft.
The experience left an impression on Heather, who'd never seen a fae before, and she was painstakingly trying to ensure the items ordered were the best she could possibly fashion.
Heather was only eighteen, and more enthusiastic about her work than older witches. She was also a fast learner, and had come to be a capable witch in her own rite since she'd started working at Aislinn's shop a year ago. Sadly, she'd never known her birth parents, and being a born witch had her in therapy at a young age when most humans assumed the things she claimed to see was all in her head.
This led to taking prescription drugs unnecessarily until she was fifteen when one of her teachers in school—also a born witch—realized what was going on and introduced her to the world of the supernatural.
When she'd come to Strange Brew looking for work, Aislinn hired her on the spot, and they became fast friends instead of merely boss and employee.
After a few minutes grinding her pestle into the mortar, Heather glanced at Aislinn and inquired, “By the way, are you still gonna join that coven?”
“Yeah, I am,” she answered. “They should be contacting me any time.”
“But you're a solitary witch.”
“I know, I just thought it might help if I tested my boundaries, see if I can work with a group.”
Heather looked back down, adding a second herb to the mixture she was creating, then admitted, “I don't like it. Every time I look at that invitation, I get a bad feeling.”
Aislinn quirked a brow, asking, “How so?”
“I don't know, something about it just doesn't sit right.”
It was odd to hear her say such a thing, but she wasn't the only one who thought so. Miranda and Helen were both unsure about The Trine, Annika hadn't been too enthusiastic when she'd called, and even some of the lupines Aislinn knew in the city said it rubbed their instincts the wrong way.
These were all trustworthy pe
ople, and she didn't dismiss their opinions. But there was a very simple reason why she didn't want to ignore the coven's invitation—her own intuition. Ever since she'd received their letter nearly two months ago, she'd had the sense of something good to come from their initiation, and it was strong enough to keep her doubts at bay.
But that didn't mean she was walking into things blindly.
Aislinn had looked into The Trine, and learned that her mother was right—the coven was old. Established in 1699, it'd been around just a little longer than The Esbat—the Order overseeing affairs of witches under The Crucible. Just as Helen mentioned, The Trine was meant to be a type of support group founded by The Abbott Sisters, Sylva, Lydia, and Myra, who'd wanted to shield practitioners from people's fear and paranoia.
Sadly, Aislinn couldn't find much along the lines of documentation on their practices, but according to The Esbat, they operated in accordance with official standards, and had several members living throughout the southern states. So there were no stop signs being thrown up over those matters at least.
Before she could alleviate Heather's worries, however, the bells at the front door of the shop chimed, signaling a customer's entry.
“We'll talk about it later,” Aislinn remarked, settling her wash cloth down to step through the door behind the front counter and offer a greeting.
“Welcome to Strange Brew.”
“Hey, Aislinn,” came a familiar voice.
“Ashley?”
“Yeah, how's it going?”
Ashley Hodgins, one of the newest lupines of the Arkin City Pack, rounded the corner of an isle and headed to the counter. She was formerly a human who'd been turned into a lupine against her will a little over two months ago, and unwittingly found her way into the city where she was taken in by the local wolves.
“It's going,” Aislinn replied, smiling as Ashley leaned on the counter. “What brings you by?”
“A couple of things,” she answered with a sheepish smile on her face, and almost immediately, Aislinn could sense something particular was up. It was an anxious sensation, but sadly, most supernatural creatures—including other born witches—tended to defy her intuition. If Aislinn was a fae or a lupine herself, she'd be able to tell what it was more quickly.
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