The Keepers: Archer. Rae Rivers
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Archer bolted and landed on his attacker with a low growl.
He spotted the branded tattoo on Hunter’s wrist, and his gut clenched. The mark of the one warlock he’d hoped would never return.
Warrick Brogan.
Damn.
“You’re here for Warrick,” he said, reigning in his searing anger.
“He’s issuing a challenge to the Bennett brothers,” Hunter choked, flinching at the weight of the solid man on top of him.
“And what challenge would that be?”
“He dares you to find the witch before he does.”
Archer’s stomach rolled at the mention of Sienna’s name in the same sentence as Warrick’s. The feeling was almost unbearable – blind fury and the instinctive urge to protect shot through his body, fusing together in intense heat.
“Tell Warrick that I have a message for him.” The colour in Hunter’s face had changed to a distressed blue. When his eyes started rolling back in his head, Archer softened his grip. After all, he needed a messenger. “If anyone so much as lifts a finger to Sienna, the Bennett brothers will retaliate with so much wrath that it’ll make hell seem like an attractive place.”
Hunter gave a sly grin. “Warrick wants the Grimoire.”
Of course. “Tell him to get in line.”
“But he wants the witch even more.”
“Like hell.”
“You won’t be able to protect her forever.” His words, said with such malice and confidence, hit Archer straight in the gut.
The Keeper of the Wise. His ancestral duty was to protect the Beckham witches from the evils of men like Warrick Brogan and his minions. So far, he’d already failed dismally where Sienna was concerned.
Two years later and she was still in hiding. Damn her.
He’d also failed his sister, his parents, and Sienna’s parents too, and their deaths had sparked a bitter quest for vengeance.
He leaned forward. “Touch her and you’ll die,” he said in an undertone that cut like a knife.
“Warrick won’t back down, Bennett.”
“And neither will we.” With herculean strength, Archer flung Hunter forward. “Get your evil ass out of my home,” he ordered and tossed Hunter through the jagged window. More glass shattered, and Hunter landed on the lawn outside with a loud curse.
“You’ll pay for this, Bennett,” Hunter said, wiping blood from his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. “We’re coming for the Grimoire and the witch, and the Bennett brothers won’t stop us.”
Archer’s anger soared, and he bolted through the window, landing on the grass with the ease of a cat jumping from a four-storey window. “I dare you to say that again.”
Hunter stumbled to his feet with a string of curses that would make his mother blush. Not that men like him had mothers. No, they were the spawn of … evil.
A rustle of bushes drew Archer’s attention to the shrubbery beside him. A Golden Retriever circled their visitor with a soft growl.
“Ah, you’ve pissed off Levi.” Archer suppressed a grin at Hunter’s expression. The retriever’s growl deepened. “And Levi hates trespassers even more than we do.”
“Call off your dog.” Hunter quickly stepped back. “I’ll deliver your damn message, but you should know that Warrick won’t let this go.”
The dog’s low growl turned into a series of quick, loud snarls that sent Hunter soaring off and away.
Archer couldn’t blame him. In defensive mode, Levi did look rather frightening – nothing like the gorgeous, fury, friendly, and protective dog she was.
On edge with restless energy from the surprise attack, Archer blew out air and flexed his shoulders. His gaze travelled to the broken glass on the lawn, and he frowned. Broken doors and windows at the Bennett Estate was nothing new, but still sent a bolt of fury and resentment through him. Attacks from Warrick Brogan and others like him had been part of their life since they’d taken over the Keeper role from their parents before their deaths several years ago. But every time a dark force entered the estate uninvited, it stirred something vicious inside.
Situated in a small mystical town renowned for the production of ice wine, the mansion had been home to the Bennett family for decades, carefully restored by each generation. It was an impressive house, luxurious, and large enough to house several families. Thousands of trees, shrubs, and flowers filled their grounds. It was nestled in the centre of massive spans of land, surrounded by thick forests and a glistening river on the one side, and endless rows of grape vineyards on the other. The estate itself was very old, and steeped in magical energy. Storage buildings and underground tunnels filtered through the estate and the forest surrounding it. They’d all been abandoned or destroyed when the Bennett family had moved in.
Currently, the mansion was home to two of the three Bennett brothers. Still no sign of Declan.
Levi returned moments later, chasing an Aston Martin down the driveway.
Ethan.
When the car pulled to a stop in front of the house, the youngest Bennett brother emerged with a sheepish grin. “Seriously? Did you use Levi to frighten our visitors again?”
Archer smiled. “No. Levi offered. And it worked, didn’t it? One look at the crazy dog and he bolted.”
Ethan dropped to his knees and patted the cheerful dog. “Nobody messes with Levi, do they girl?”
Archer took in his brother’s ragged appearance and cocked a brow. Yesterday’s jeans and a rumpled blue T-shirt, messy sandy brown hair, and unshaven. A far cry from his immaculate appearance the night before. “Late night?”
Ethan nodded, his grin widening.
“Looks like you didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Nope.”
Figures. With his carefree grin and endless charm, Ethan was never without a woman at his side. The youngest Bennett brother loved parties, alcohol, and women – and they loved him right back. The man had stamina that even put Hercules to shame.
Ethan’s silly grin disappeared as he glanced at the broken window. “So who was our visitor?”
Archer frowned, thinking about his intruder and every threat he stood for. “Remind me to arrange for some damn security,” he said, although he knew that ordinary security could do very little to keep the likes of Warrick and his gang away. Supernatural powers trumped conventional security measures any day.
“What did he want?”
“Warrick Brogan sent us a message.”
The mention of the warlock’s name was enough to jar the expected reaction from his brother. Any trace of amusement vanished and thick silence hung between them.
“Gargamel’s back?” Ethan frowned. “What does he want?”
“The Beckham Grimoire.”
“Oh, hell. They’re starting that again?”
“They never stopped. They were simply biding time until Warrick’s numbers were up. According to Fly Boy that I sent through our window, Warrick’s numbers are up. That’s not all,” Archer said in a soft tone that had Ethan look at him. “They want Sienna.”
“They won’t find her.”
“Apparently they know where she is.”
Ethan gave a brief snort. “We’re her Keepers. If we don’t know where Sienna is, then how the hell would they?”
Archer shrugged his shoulders, not bothering to hide his concern.