Page 22 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

Zeke had allied with Aren nearly a century before I’d found my way back to him, which made the sight of him—and his irreverent welcome—nearly as comforting as the Westerlund brothers.

“August Porter. Friends call me August,” he quipped, his smile beautifully disarming. He was made for this. Uniting the hierarchies with me and Aren. Unlike us, nothing about my mate spelled trouble.

“No way. Marcus told us about you, but somehow I imagined you’d be…” Zeke glanced between August and me before repeating, “different.”

“Hope I don’t disappoint.” August stood, cracking his neck as the two sized each other up.

Zeke considered him before nodding. “You know, from what I’ve heard, I don’t think you do.” He turned for the fridge, grabbed an armful of beer bottles, then tossed one to August and set another beside the dish on the counter. “Well, I suppose you intend to wait for Liv to get back before dropping whatever bomb you arrived with.”

“She’s about to turn onto your street,” I said mildly.

Zeke exhaled sharply. We’d worked together long enough that he shouldn’t startle easily, but he still wasn’t used to having his future plainly laid out for him.

“Of course, she is. What’s Alec up to these days?”

“Getting himself into trouble.” I scraped the wooden spoon over the bottom of the pan before flipping off the burner. Right on time.

“So, the usual?”

Zeke had one of those crooked, flashy smiles that demanded imitation. My own cheeks ached as I mirrored his knowing grin.

August snorted, plopping down into a wooden kitchen chair, twisting the cap off his beer before raising it in offering. “Pretty much,” he supplied.

Zeke clinked his bottle against August’s in easy acceptance.

“August and Alec have cycled before,” I explained, pulling four dishes from the cabinet as the boys propped their feet up.

“That tracks.” Zeke canted his head. “Which draft of our boy did you first encounter?”

“Robert.”

The sound of Zeke choking on his drink made me turn. His feet smacked against the wooden floor as his cheeks puffed, fighting to contain the liquid before he finally managed to swallow. He was about to bark an expletive when the vision shimmered through my mind.

The dogs outside went mad.

“Liv’s home.”

On the end of one last cough, Zeke jerked his head toward the door, and August followed him onto the porch. I finished dishing up the shepherd’s pie and sautéed vegetables before stepping out into the crisp night air.

Liv, like her mate, rarely utilized her ability to jump—she’d only just mastered it. Her expertise lay in all things earth, a trait Fae and Alec had always loved immensely. She hopped out of her black SUV, her expression cautious as she took us all in, tucking her slick black hair behind an ear.

We hugged, and after a brief introduction with August, she turned to look up at me, her dark eyes narrowing with what could only be fear.

“I’ve seen the signs. Disease in the roots. Birds, dead in the woods.”

Her mate’s face fell as she continued, dropping onto the dark porch.

“You’re here to ask us to fight with you.”

“I’m here because Aren needs you.” While the truth was that my mate and I needed them, it was Aren’s network we were calling in. His centuries of camaraderie would determine the outcome of this war.

“The time’s really come, then?” Zeke breathed, his swallow audible. “Amadeus wouldn’t call if it hadn’t.”

I sucked in a breath, glancing at August. His fingers found mine, and as he jerked his chin toward our companions, I nodded, lips pressed together.

“We’ll discuss it over dinner. But yes. The first horseman was promised before spring. The others won’t be far behind. Our enemy will ally with them. And we need our people.”

“Remember, Elizabeth. Remember.”