“Sorry,” the woman said as she swerved sharply to miss the next one. “My sisters and I hired someone to work on the place, but he hasn’t had a chance to get to the driveway. I suppose he’ll have to fill in all these damn craters and redistribute the gravel or get more. But there’s so much wrong with the house, he’ll be busy there for a year at least.”
As the house came into view, Clay whistled. “Lotta work for one man.”
The place had to have been something in its heyday. Greek revival with pillars that ran from ground to roof, the white paint now peeling heavily. Heavy cornices graced the edge of the low-pitched gable roof, one of the windows in the gable broken.
Outside of general neglect, though, the home was gorgeous and big enough for several families.
“What is this place?” he asked, his voice raspy from the pain.
“My sisters and I got this for you and your brothers.”
“Brothers?” He sent her a sharp look. “I don’t have any brothers.”
“Oh, but you do. Not brothers in blood, but in spirit.” She glanced at him. “My name is Jo, by the way.”
He glanced over at the old lady, taking in her curly, white hair and the map of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. She wore a pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt. Her nails had been filed down to the quick. There was a sharpness to her gaze, but she was obviously confused.
She parked the truck in front of the house and turned off the engine. Outside a woodpecker dug loudly into bark, and cicadas buzzed among the trees.
Clay tried to sit up straighter and pain shot across his chest. “What do you mean by ‘brothers in spirit’?”
“You don’t have the same parents, but your destinies are intertwined more than any group of siblings could be, and the spirit bond is strong because of what my sisters and I did. There are five other men out there with your same purpose. We have to find them all, and then the Weavers’ Circle will be complete.”
“Weavers’ Circle?”
She scowled. “You ask too many questions when you should be sleeping in a bed.”
“From the looks of him, he should be in a hospital.”
Clay turned to the deep voice coming in through his partially open window, and his eyes widened as he took in the man standing outside.
The sun shone on his light-brown, wavy hair and made his eyes a startling bright green. Those peridot eyes stood out in the tanned skin of his square face. Darker stubble lined his strong jaw and outlined full, pouty lips. He was possibly the most strikingly rugged male Clay had ever seen.
“No hospital, Dane,” Jo said as she climbed out of the truck. “Get him to the master bedroom. I got it ready for him yesterday.”
Dane opened his door and reached in to help him out. His warm hand felt nice on Clay’s arm, and he realized he was chilled. How much blood had he lost during the drive? Glancing down, he saw his clothes were covered in it.
“Jesus,” Dane said in a rough whisper. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the hospital?”
“I’ll be okay. I need a shower and some rest. That’s all.”
“And maybe a few pints of blood.”
“My duffle is in the bed of the truck.”
“I’ll come back and get it.”
Dane carefully wrapped an arm around Clay. Only a couple of inches separated them in height, allowing Dane to fit comfortably under his arm. He was built slender but strong. No reason to worry about leaning on him as they shuffled up the stone steps onto the lower veranda.
Kudzu covered part of the front wall, the ragged edges looking as if someone had hacked away the clear areas. The man he leaned against smelled of fresh greenery. Maybe that was what he’d been doing when they drove up. But how the hell had he missed noticing him? This man was truly gorgeous.
They stepped into a grand entry with a massive spiral staircase at one end and wide openings to rooms on either side. To the left was the dining room and to the right an obvious library with wall-to-wall shelves. They walked to the right of the stairs and then into a small hallway. Clay took in a breath—easily the size of his last apartment, the master bedroom was huge. There was an open door to a master bath to the right and Dane led him there, sitting him on a chair in front of a short counter.
“I’ll go grab your clothes. Do you need help getting into the shower?”
Clay thought about saying yes just to keep the man’s hands on him, but that was kind of creepy, so he shook his head. Pain shot through the side of his head and he winced. Dane immediately came forward and probed gentle fingers through that part of his hair.