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  RETURN TO WARLOCK’S COVE

  PART ONE

  JADE ASTOR

  Return to Warlock’s Cove, Part One

  Copyright © 2016, Jade Astor

  Published by Dark Hollows Press

  About the Book You Have Purchased

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  Return to Warlock’s Cove, Part One

  Copyright © 2016 Jade Astor

  Original Publication Date: August 2016

  ISBN 10: 1-944054-78-2

  ISBN 13: 978-1-944054-78-6

  Author: Jade Astor

  Cover design by E Connors

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2016 by Dark Hollows Press

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  RETURN TO WARLOCK’S COVE

  PART ONE: CHAPTERS 1 - 2

  Chapter 1

  He was driving through the woods, about eight miles from the center of town, when an ear-splitting, banshee-like wail erupted from the seat beside him.

  Wincing, Milo reached for his cell phone and cut the horrific voice off in mid-shriek. Though he’d raised the top on his Mustang when the sun had gone down, he’d forgotten to lower the volume on his Halloween-themed ringtone. He raised it to his ear, already suspecting whose voice he would hear on the other end.

  Sure enough, his younger brother was approaching panic mode as usual. Apparently the ten calls he’d made in the last two hours hadn’t been sufficient to ease his mind.

  “Are you on your way, Milo? I’m waiting on the front step for you. You said you’d be here by sundown.”

  “And I will,” Milo assured him, struggling to keep the irritation out of his tone. His youngest brother, Gage, was only nineteen and impatient for his adult life to begin. He showed it by constantly harping on every little thing he wanted or needed other people to do for him. Since he knew better than to irritate Jules, he concentrated his annoying efforts on Milo. It would be a relief when Gage reached the age of 21—not only would he be able to buy his own alcohol then, but he’d be allowed to practice magic without Jules’ permission. At 24, Milo hadn’t yet mastered a lot of spells himself, reluctantly seeking their oldest brother’s help more often than he would have liked, but on the other hand his life was a lot better now that he had achieved a measure of independence. It made living with Jules and their dad more tolerable than it had been when he was Gage’s age. So he felt for the kid and put up with more than he probably should have.

  He just hoped Jules and their dad would never notice that he’d headed over to the next town, signed for a few wholesale cases of beer from their family bar’s supplier, and smuggled it to Gage and his underaged buddies for some big Friday-night blowout. With any luck, they’d just pay it off with the rest of the invoices at the end of the month. Moon Mansion turned enough of a profit that the extra expense wouldn’t impact the family fortune in the least.

  “But it’s nearly dark,” Gage went on. “Nick and his friends will be getting up any minute. The human guests should show up soon after that. And we can’t start the party until you get here.”

  “Relax. I’ll be there by the time it gets dark. Maybe Nick will let you and the other humans taste some of their bottled blood. Never know, you might like it.”

  Gage’s voice rose to a near-whine. “Milo, please. I’m counting on you to do this for me.”

  “Okay, okay. Look, I’ll be there in ten minutes or so. I’ve got plenty of beer to supply the whole party and more. But remember what I told you—make it clear that someone else is buying next time. Otherwise, they’ll just be using you for your connections. That’s not the way to fit in. Trust me, Gage. You can’t buy friendship.”

  Gage was still protesting when Milo ended the call. He’d tell Gage later that he’d hit a dead spot and the phone cut out. By then he’d have the beer to hand out to the new friends he wanted to impress so badly, and the dudes from the vampire frat would have risen to join the party. He wouldn’t dare argue with Milo in front of them, especially Nick, whom Gage was seriously crushing out on. Though Milo didn’t really approve of his brother dating a bloodsucker, Gage had assured him Nick had perfect manners and self-control. That would be a first as far as Milo could see. He remembered how Jules had ranted and raged when Roman Agostino had been dating Cyril Beauchamp years ago. Apparently he didn’t even consider Cyril fit to date his worst enemy. At least, that was the way Jules had put it. Milo had some theories of his own he had never dared voice in his older brother’s presence.

  Tossing the cell phone back on the passenger seat, Milo turned on a hard-rock radio station, hit the gas, and edged his car over the speed limit. No one used this road unless they were on their way to the warehouse his family ran just outside of the town limits, and it wasn’t like the local cops would dare give a Hawthorn a citation. The sooner he dropped off the cases to Gage and his buddies, the sooner Milo could start his own evening. He went through a few entertainment possibilities in his mind. With the Harvest Festival only a week away, the village was full of tourists, a lot of them good-looking dudes who dabbled in witchcraft and New England lore. He would have plenty of alluring hard bodies to pick from in the bars and clubs around the docks.

  Dusk was spreading and the thick trees on either side of the road contracted into gray blurs as he sped past them. The lights of Warlock’s Cove lay just ahead of him, at the bottom of the steep hill. By the time he got there, the crisp October sky would already have grown dark. Perfect timing, as far as he could see. No one who knew his brother or father was as likely to see him unloading some brewery’s entire monthly output from his car. He’d be on his way to his own fun and games in no time flat.

  What happened next went down so fast his mind didn’t actually register it until it was too late. One minute Milo was racing down the hill with his driver’s side window open and the stereo cranked up loud, enjoying the cool air blowing over his face. The next, he was screeching to a halt, the car careening wildly across the country road, his whole body covered in a cold, panicky sweat. On the gravel shoulder his passenger-side wheels had just grazed, a crumpled bicycle was sticking straight up in the air with a limp form stretched out beside it.

  Heart pounding, Milo threw the car in park and raced across the road toward the cyclist he had inadvertently forced onto his side in the dirt. To Milo’s relief, the college-aged man was already moaning and struggling to his knees. He must be a student from Hawthorn College, Milo thought as he crouched down and steadied him with an arm around his shoulders. “Are you all right? I’m so sorry! I never saw you until it was too late—I didn’t mean to scare you like that!”

  “Partly my fault,” the kid said. “I should have a light or reflector on my bike. It’s almost dark.”

  Luckily, it wasn’t too gloomy for Milo to make out the details of the
kid’s face. When he blinked up with the most dazzlingly innocent blue eyes Milo had ever seen, Milo felt like he was the one who’d just had the wind knocked out of him.

  “Well, maybe you shouldn’t move around just yet. Stay where you are and I’ll see about your bike.”

  “I sure hope it isn’t ruined,” the kid said, sounding near tears. “It’s the only transportation I have.”

  Milo was about to tell him he’d be happy to buy him a new one to replace it when he had a better idea. Facing away from the kid, who was still kneeling on the shoulder, he muttered a quick fix-it spell that made the bike shudder and stretch its bent frame and front wheel back to their normal shapes. Jules would have kicked his ass for using magic when a simple credit card purchase at a sporting-goods store could have fixed matters, and in front of a stranger no less, but Jules wasn’t here to object. Besides, with any luck the kid wouldn’t be a stranger for too much longer.

  “There, you see?” With a small flourish, Milo stepped back and revealed the restored bike. “Barely a scratch.”

  “That’s amazing. I really thought I’d wrecked it. I was sure I saw the front wheel bend.”

  “An optical illusion. The shadows can play tricks on your eyes this time of day. Now we need to see about you. Do you…um…need to go to the hospital?” Milo hoped not. That would prompt a few questions he would prefer not to answer, especially if anyone saw the back of his car stacked high with alcohol. And he’d rather not drop it off at the frat house first with a witness in the car. Calling an ambulance seemed like an even worse idea for pretty much the same reasons.

  The kid flexed his arms and rubbed his knees and winced. “I’m…fine. Don’t worry about it. I should’ve been more careful myself.”

  “That doesn’t look fine.” Milo pointed down at his left knee, which was scraped and bloody under the torn-out leg of his jeans. Luckily, it didn’t seem to be broken or dislocated. On the other hand—or leg—Milo decided, he could hardly pedal home, wherever his home might be, in that condition. If it didn’t already hurt like hellfire, it would once it started to swell up. “You’d better let me treat it for you. My house is in town—just up the road. Won’t take us ten minutes to get there.”

  At first the kid looked like he was about to refuse, but then he tried to move and winced in obvious pain. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted. “My shoulder doesn’t feel so good, either.”

  Minutes later, the bike was in Milo’s trunk and the kid sprawled out in the passenger seat. Milo paused to call Gage on the cell before he got back behind the wheel.

  “Sorry, bro, can’t make it after all. Car trouble. You can pick the stuff up at home and drag it over there yourself. Bring a few friends to help you carry it. I brought a lot.”

  “What the—!” Gage yelped. “Milo, what the hell?”

  “Whoops, sorry. Gotta got. Looks like my engine is starting to smoke.”

  Laughing, Milo ended the call, shoved the phone in his pocket, and jumped back in the car. This evening might just turn out okay after all.

  On the way into town, Milo learned that his passenger’s name was Thomas Perry, and that he wasn’t a college student after all, though he was just the right age at nineteen.

  “In town for the Harvest Festival?” Milo guessed.

  “Uh…sort of,” came the evasive reply. Thomas also became oddly reticent when Milo asked where he was staying, though since he’d only inquired out of politeness he didn’t give that too much thought. His own house, and king-sized bed, would do just fine for his current intentions.

  They got into the house and up to Milo’s room without encountering anyone. Hopefully his older brother, Jules, was out and their dad was on the third floor reading spell books and practicing alchemy, his usual evening pastime. As he’d expected, Milo saw Thomas’s eyes widen a bit at the size and ostentation of Hawthorn house, which took up an entire corner of the village and dwarfed everything around it—except for the Agostino manor across the square, of course.

  Milo had Thomas pull off his torn jeans and settle back on the pillows before he headed into the bathroom to get a first aid kit. Thomas lay there, quiet and stoic, while Milo cleaned the dirt and blood out of the wound, applied iodine, and wrapped gauze and tape around it. Milo was also gratified to see a lump rising under the seam of his tight black briefs as his hands drifted over his injured flesh. Just to be on the safe side, he muttered a quick healing spell under his breath. Hopefully the spirits would hear him and Thomas wouldn’t.

  Finally, Milo finished up with the bandage, sat up on the edge of the bed, and looked at him. He hoped his mouth wasn’t watering visibly, but Thomas sure was a cute little package propped up in his bed like that, especially with his pants off. The last thing Milo wanted was for him to thank him for the help, jump up, and vanish into the night.

  “So tell me a little about yourself,” Milo ventured. “You said you weren’t a college student—so what do you do for a living?”

  Again, Thomas got a skittish look in his eyes, like some cowering rodent who had just spotted a cat coming toward him. “I’m…you know…looking for work at the moment.”

  “I see. Well, you know, there are usually plenty of jobs around Wharton’s Cove, though most of them are of the short-order-cook variety and don’t pay much. The college crowd and the tourists drive the economy here. I mean, if you were thinking of staying a while. Or were you just looking to earn some extra money during the Harvest Festival?”

  “I…uh…I hadn’t really given it much thought.”

  Thomas bit his lip and averted his gaze. Milo found that interesting, but he didn’t press the matter. “By the way, how’s your knee?” he asked instead.

  “It hurts,” Thomas admitted.

  Sympathetically, Milo ran his hand along his leg, up his thigh, and then let it drop away. “Don’t worry,” Milo said. “Everything will be fine.”

  A commotion in the hall outside his bedroom door made him look up. A moment later, his brother guy’s face loomed in the doorway. Milo found his startled expression amusing. He probably had entirely the wrong idea about why Thomas was in his bed wearing only a hoodie and briefs, but it served him right for barging in.

  “I came to pick up the beer,” Gage said, his gaze riveted on Thomas’s sprawled form. “So much for car trouble, huh?”

  “There are all different kinds of car trouble. Come on, I’ll unlock the doors and you can get that damn beer out. I’ll be glad to see the last of it. And don’t tell anyone where it came from or you might not live long enough to buy the next batch on your own.” Milo turned back to Thomas and winked. “Stay here for a minute, okay? Just got to help my little brother with something.”

  “Okay,” Thomas said. Milo figured his injury would keep him in place until he got back from the car. Luckily the healing spell didn’t work instantly. Besides, it was now dark outside and Thomas sure wouldn’t be pedaling his lightless bike anywhere for a while.

  He followed Gage downstairs and found Nick, along with a trio of skinny, pale-faced dudes that could only have been his vampire frat brothers, waiting in the driveway for him. Again he felt a twinge of anxiety about letting Gage hang out with them, no matter what the town rules were concerning nonconsensual biting. He didn’t trust a sensitive sap like Roman Agostino to enforce them properly, anyway.

  On the other hand, there hadn’t been a criminal vampire attack in Warlock’s Cove for years, and it was pointless to argue with Gage once he had a crush on someone. Sighing, Milo unlocked his car so the vampires could take out the cases of beer and carry them back to their mortal guests.

  “I’m counting on you to look after my brother,” he said to Nick, who gave him the kind of smart-assed grin only a vampire would dare direct at a Hawthorn. “Make sure he—and your other human friends—don’t overdo it.”

  “Nothing to worry about,” Nick assured him. “We have plenty of our own bottles on hand. You know we like to play by the rules. Makes our long lives so much easi
er.”

  “Thanks, bro.” Gage stood beside Nick as the other vampires wordlessly stacked up the cases, hoisted them up, and started down the sidewalk with them. “I owe you one.”

  “You got that right,” Milo said with a wink. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have my own party to get back to.”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Nick said archly, apparently guessing the gist of what was going on inside Hawthorn house. “If you find yourself bored later, you can stroll down to Beta Lambda Delta and join in the fun. Promises to be quite a party.”

  “Probably too much excitement for me, but thanks anyway. And remember what I said about looking out for my brother.”

  Nick’s easy laughter tinkled like a bell in the evening air. As Milo turned to go back inside, he saw the vampire slip his long, pale fingers around Gage’s hand as the two walked down the sidewalk. He only hoped Nick would tire quickly of Gage’s naiveté and let him down easy. That would be the best outcome for everyone, especially Gage, who would hopefully find someone more suitable—or at least someone human—to get crushed out on. Shaking his head, he slipped back inside the house and locked the door behind him.

  He returned to his room to find Thomas in tears.

  “Hey, what happened? Are you in pain? Do you need me to get you something?”

  “No…thanks anyway.” Thomas’s voice was choked with sobs. “It’s nothing you can help me with.”

  “How do you know that if you won’t level with me?” Milo perched on the corner of the bed, frowning. The dejected look on Thomas’s face, and the pitiful way his head drooped over his scrawny chest, made Milo’s own chest hurt for some reason. Though Milo had encountered plenty of scam artists over the years and had developed a healthy sense of skepticism, he sounded genuinely distraught.

  “I’m…I’m kind of ashamed to say it,” Thomas admitted.

  Milo spread his hands in what he hoped was a welcoming gesture. “Listen, I’m as nonjudgmental as a guy can get. Believe me, I’ve done a few things in my life I’m not proud of, too. Just take a deep breath and spill it. That’s the first step to solving the problem, right?”

  Swallowing hard, Thomas nodded. “Okay. It’s like this. You asked me before where I was staying. Well, the truth is…I’m not staying anywhere, really. I’ve pitched a little secondhand tent out in the woods near where you found me. I’ve been surviving by lurking around the college and using the showers in the gym. A couple times I stole a few bucks from the lockers or from coats hanging on racks so I could buy some fast food to eat. And sometimes in the buildings they put out free doughnuts and stuff for the staff. I sneak in and grab what I can. I was hoping with this Harvest Festival thing I’d be able to crash a couple of open houses or talks where they serve cheese and crackers. You know…that kind of thing. I hate it and I hate myself for having to live that way, but I feel like I don’t have any choice.”

  Milo’s brows lifted as Thomas poured out the startling tale. Having always lived with plenty of everything, he couldn’t even imagine what it must be like to go scrounging for a meal.

  “But why? Don’t you have a place to go home to?”

  Thomas shook his head. A fresh stream of tears streaked his delicate cheekbones. “No grandparents or other relatives. I had a mom and dad—until they kicked my sorry ass out of the house when they found out I was gay. I’m never going back there. I’d rather live in my tent and eat the bark off trees than ask them for anything.”

  “Damn.” Another thought occurred to Milo. “Isn’t it a little cold to be camping out there in late October? I mean, the afternoons aren’t too bad yet, but once the sun goes down it gets pretty frosty.”

  “I manage.”

  “You don’t have any friends who can help you out?”

  “Nope. I’ve always been kind of a loner. No friends. Not back in Boston and definitely not around here. I’ve been trying to keep a low profile.”

  “Damn.” Milo fell silent, turning over the words in his mind. Sure, he could have sat down and had a long, serious talk with him. From experience, Milo could have told him a lot about what it was like to lust for men, to come out, and to live openly gay and proud like he and his brothers did. Their own father didn’t really like it, but he couldn’t do much about it and had more or less accepted it the way most warlocks did. It might help Thomas to hear that—except for the warlock p[art, of course.

  Instead, a better plan began to form in his mind—one he really should talk over with Jules and their dad, but then again, to hell with that. He didn’t have time and he wouldn’t take no for an answer anyway. “You’re wrong about one thing, though. You do have friends here—one, at least. Me. You’re going to stay here for a couple of nights at least until we figure out what to do. No more pilfered cheese and crackers for you, my man.”

  “I couldn’t ask you to do that, Milo. We barely know each other. It’s too big an imposition.”

  “Nonsense. I’m the guy who just saved your life. Or nearly took it from you, whichever way you want to look at it. In any case I’m responsible for you tonight, at least. That means you’re staying.”

  “Thanks. I mean, I can’t get back to my campsite with this bandage on anyway, so I don’t have much choice at the moment. Tomorrow I should be able to handle my bike again.”

  “We’ll talk about it in the morning. For now you can just close your eyes and rest. We have plenty of guest rooms. I’ll use one of them myself for tonight.”

  “I can’t drive you out of your own room!” Thomas protested.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Milo waved a hand. “You’ll be fine here. I even have my own bathroom, right through that door. You can use the shampoo, cologne, anything you want. I’ve got a whole pack of unopened toothbrushes in the vanity drawer. Just grab one. Any color you like.”

  “That’s really nice of you. I don’t know how I’ll ever make it up to you.”

  Truthfully, Milo could think of a way, but since Thomas hadn’t invited him to share the bed he didn’t want to press the issue. “We can talk about it later. Now, can I get you some hot chocolate or something? How about a sandwich?”

  Again Thomas dropped his eyes in shame. “I…uh…I wouldn’t say no.”

  “I figured you wouldn’t. Okay, back in a jiffy. Oh, and hang on a minute.” Pausing at the bureau, Milo rummaged through the drawers and tossed a clean t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the bed. “You can pull those on and I’ll throw your other clothes in the washer. I don’t know how to sew so I can’t do much about the hole in your jeans. Sorry. I’ll buy you a new pair in town.” He could have used another mending spell, of course, but that would definitely be taking too much of a risk. Fixing the bike had been daring enough.

  “It’s okay.” At last, a faint smile tilted the corners of Thomas’s mouth. “They’ll look trendier that way. People will think I did it on purpose.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Just before he stepped through the doorway, Milo paused. “See? I told you opening up was the first step to fixing things. And we’re going to fix this, Thomas. I promise you.”

  Thomas nodded. The expression on his weary—but undeniably adorable—face expressed his relief better than words ever could.

  “Back in a flash,” he said, and hurried toward the kitchen.

  Chapter 2