The Guardian Lineage Read Online Free Page A

try and get the blood pumping back into his brain, because either this was a dream, or he was losing his mind.
    â€œThe term begins tomorrow. The Headmage expects Michael to be there.”
    Headmage? Mike thought. What was this, some kind of joke? Some kind of sick, Harry Potter meets Mortal Kombat meets whatever- you-call-that-mutated-cat joke?
    â€œTomorrow? It’s the middle of July—”
    â€œThe Headmage expects Michael to attend,” Stockton repeated. He turned to leave.
    â€œSeth.”
    Mike turned to see his mom sink back into the kitchen chair. She looked drained, as if the fight had finally affected her. “At least heal the wounds on my leg. Please.”
    Stockton’s eyes narrowed. “Heal them yourself,” he muttered, then vanished through the open doorway.
    ***
    Stockton climbed into his Jeep and slammed the door shut. He breathed in the fresh leather. Then he slammed his fist down on the steering wheel. Why did Sepulchra always have to be so… unnerving?
    â€œGarzan,” he said into the voice-activated speakerphone.
    A moment later, he heard a voice in the car. “This is Garzan.”
    â€œI just left Sepulchra’s house.”
    â€œAnd? Another worm?”
    â€œA Calebra.”
    A pause. “So it was the Brethren.”
    Stockton pulled the Jeep out into the street. “Or a Slayer who picked up some black magic on the way.”
    â€œPerhaps. What did she say?”
    â€œShe was not informed about the other attacks.”
    The voice on the other end groaned. “Our list of allies grows thin, yet we alienate our own kind. The boy is coming, I trust?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œGood. Don’t worry, Seth. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
    â€œAs will I, Headmage. As will I.”

 
    Chapter Four
    Â 
    Mike sat cross-legged on his bed, staring at a piece of parchment.
    Your enrollment at Windham Manor has been approved. Please bring with you the following items…
    Mike had half-expected to see a list of wizard gear or something, but the letter did not ask him to bring any books or schooling material. Just your sleepaway-camp basics: clothes, linens, toiletries. He shoved his brownish hair out of his face and rubbed his eyes. This was getting to be too much.
    There was a soft knock at the door, and Mom came in with two Cokes. She handed one to Mike.
    â€œCome on, let’s get you packed.”
    Mike tossed the invitation in the garbage. “I’m not leaving, Mom.” He popped open the soda can, and the fizz bubbled against the drone of the air conditioner. He could probably live at Tank’s for two, maybe three months, or at least until school started. He would figure things out from there.
    Mom sat on the bed. “Listen, sweetie, I know you don’t want to move again. But Windham is a very good, uh, boarding school.”
    Mike sighed. He would let her play this game for another minute, and then she’d find out how serious he was. “That Stockton guy isn’t going to kill any of my friends, is he?”
    A smile escaped Mom’s lips. “Of course not. But they may not remember what happened when they wake up in the morning.” Then her face straightened. She rubbed the sweat on the soda can and stared at Mike’s Buzz Lightyear bedding.
    â€œThere’s a reason I’ve dragged you around the country for the last ten years. Our family is… hunted. For their power.” Mom paused. “I know it’s been a lousy way to grow up. I thought… I thought I was keeping you away from this. I thought if you were never trained, you’d never be sought after. But I guess our history has caught up with us, huh.”
    Sure, Mom, whatever you say, Mike thought. He took a long, slurping drag on his coke. He had no idea what history she was referring to, and didn’t really care at the moment. Maybe he should’ve been clearer with his previous