Read Online Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge 01 - Spell Bound by Jacob Z. Flores - Free Book Online Page B

landed on the other side of my BMW, glanced over his shoulder, and gave me a devious smile before sprinting off down the street.
    “I don’t fucking think so,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. Drake sure as hell couldn’t have heard me since he was already about fifty yards away. I slammed on the accelerator and sped off in the direction he’d run.
    He leaped over a mailbox before vaulting the fence on Mrs. Littlejohn’s property. When he found traction, he continued on in a straight line that would take him to a picnic table and a brick wall. But instead of going around either, he leaped across the table, landed on the other side, and propelled himself onto the wall. He grabbed the top, climbed over, and flipped to the other side. Where the fuck was he going in such a damn hurry?
    I did know where he was going to end up, though. If he continued on his current path, which nothing seemed capable of stopping him from doing, he’d have to jump over the fence on Goodwine Road, and that was where he’d find me.
    I sped over there and threw my car into park. He’d have no choice but to stop now. Goodwine was the narrowest street in Havenbridge. It was really no bigger than an alley. With my car between the fence and the rear of the small convenience store to my right, there was no way Drake could keep going.
    “Nice try,” Drake said as he leaped onto the fence and jumped over my car. He caught the wall of the store with his right foot, and then he propelled himself to the left and in front of my car.
    What the fuck was he? A cat?
    I suddenly sat up in my seat as Drake bounded down Goodwine. Maybe that was exactly what he was—a goddamn shifter!
    Unlike my magic, their shifting abilities came from some ancient spell cast during a dark part of our history. I couldn’t remember the specifics and really didn’t care, to be honest, but I did recall that shifters had developed a means of masking themselves from nonshifters as a self-defense mechanism. That explained why Drake could do what he did and why I couldn’t detect anything magical about him. He was a motherfucking shifter!
    I put my car back into drive and hauled ass after him.
    This was amazing! Shifters were practically extinct. Most of what I knew about them could fit on an index card, but I did know one thing: shifters had departed our world for some magically shrouded island a long time ago.
    And if they were back, they could very well be the enemy the Conclave had sensed.
    When I turned onto Pleasant Street, Drake was nowhere to be found. I’d lost him. But as I drove by the Abbott Public Library, I saw an orange tabby cat lounging in the sun. It looked up at me with what looked like a shit-eating grin on its face and then proceeded to clean its fur.
    The bastard! He’d shifted to avoid me catching up to him. There was nothing I could do right now. He’d won this round, but he couldn’t evade me forever. He’d eventually have to shift back into his human form.
    When he did, I’d be waiting.
     
     
    I SAT at the Starbucks across from the library. I sipped my fizzy root beer, studying Drake the Cat, who was stretched out in the sun. Every now and then, he’d stop licking himself and stare suspiciously at whomever strolled by. When he was satisfied they weren’t a threat, he went back to grooming, which included lifting his leg over his shoulder and swabbing his tongue across his more delicate parts.
    Did he do that in human form too?
    Suddenly an image filled my mind of Drake lying on his bed, naked, with his legs stretched behind his ears. I imagined settling between them, his hard cock only centimeters from my lips, and flicking my tongue across the engorged head.
    Under the table where I sat, I squeezed the throbbing erection in my jeans as I mentally took Drake in my mouth, sucking on the head of his prick while jacking his hardness in eager anticipation of my warm reward.
    “Are you followin’ me?”
    I glanced to my right to find