The Coven (Coven of Bones, #1)

Shocking mismatched eyes stared back at me—the left a faint, pale purple and the right sparkling like liquid gold. They were deep set and upturned at the outer corners, surrounded by deep olive skin. Her hair fell in full waves around her shoulders, a deep mahogany that was almost black, shining against the ebony leather jacket she wore to cover the first hint of fascinating curves.

I shifted the photo lower, the name at the top of the file making my brow raise in question. “Willow Madizza?” I asked, looking at what remained of Susannah. She was the last of the Madizza line, and I wasn’t certain that she counted in any substantial way. Not when she wasn’t really alive and existed alongside but separated from the rest of the witches.

“She’s not sixteen, merely hidden from our sight for four years after her awakening. She is the last of a founding family, Alaric. Surely, even you can understand that it is of the utmost importance that she is brought to Hollow’s Grove immediately,” Susannah explained.

“How has she remained hidden all this time? Why didn’t you know she existed before now?” I looked around the room.

For the witches, it was sacrilege to question the Covenant. I didn’t pretend to care about such formalities, not when my soul was far older than they could dream to be. I’d existed since the dawn of time, since the creation of the Earth itself.

A few centuries was nothing but the blink of an eye.

“I have to presume her mother warded her from the sight along with herself after she faked her death over two decades ago. She truly passed last week,” Susannah said.

There was no heartache over the descendant who should have been her great-, great-something granddaughter. Only the desire to see her bloodline restored within the town she presided over.

“I’ll send Juliet. The girl may feel more comfortable if it is a woman who makes contact. Does she know what she is?” I asked, flicking through the file. She’d attended a human school, worked at a human newspaper. There was no sign of magical training in the documents.

“No. I want you to collect this one yourself. We have no reason to believe she has any clue what she is. But if she does, she possesses the magic of an entire lineage within her, Alaric. She’s unpredictable at best—more than likely dangerous if she feels cornered. Take Juliet with you, as well as Kairos, at least. See that she’s unharmed but make it clear that her attendance at Hollow’s Grove is not optional in this case,” Susannah instructed, standing from her seat.

The other witches followed, bowing their heads in respect as Susannah approached me in the center of the circle. She laid a skeletal hand upon my shoulder, the dark magic that animated her rippling through me. It called to me, as like called to like, recognizing that we weren’t so different after all.

Immortal souls trapped within something not quite alive and not quite dead.

“You want me to force her to come here?” I asked, the whisper echoing between us.

I possessed no morals. I cared nothing at all for the girl I’d never met or the free will most would say she had a right to. But the Coven cared about such things. They mandated that nothing could happen in Crystal Hollow unless a witch gave permission.

From breeding to feeding, they consented every step of the way. Even if they had to twist circumstances to gain that consent, they did what they had to do to ease their guilty conscience with lies.

“No matter the cost. Do you understand me?” the Covenant asked, and even without the flesh of eyeballs to gaze back at me, I felt the press of her intentions. She would not allow her line to die out, not when she, at last, had a chance of seeing it replenished. “For the good of the Coven, the girl must return with you.”

“And if that only makes her hate my kind? What then?” I asked as her hand left my shoulder and she swept past me, heading for the private rooms at the back of the tribunal where she and George kept themselves isolated except to speak with their flock.

“Then there will be another witch to hate you when you feed from her. I should think you would be used to it by now,” Susannah said, barking something that almost resembled a laugh as she pulled open the doors and retreated from sight.

I spun on my heel, going to gather Juliet and Kairos for our journey across state lines. At least she was only a few hours’ drive away, and we’d reach her quickly enough.

One of the Red witches caught my eye as I passed, smiling sultrily as she looked at me as if I were her next meal and not the other way around.

They hated us, but that didn’t stop them from wanting the hate sex that so often came with feedings. Centuries of disdain couldn’t stop the fact that a witch and a Vessel were very well suited in some ways.

My fangs throbbed with the need to feed, but I pushed them back. It could wait until I returned.

There was work to be done first.





3





WILLOW





I stood from the table, leaving Ash to finish his dinner as my cell buzzed in my hand. Stepping out of the kitchen and heading for the stairs, I answered with a quiet murmur.

“You know it’s too dangerous to be calling me right now.”

“Why haven’t you disposed of your phone or your brother yet?” the male voice on the other end of the line asked.

“I am not disposing of my brother,” I snapped, glancing back toward where he remained in the kitchen as I kept my voice hushed. My black jeans hugged my legs as I ascended the stairs slowly, trying not to draw attention to the urgency I felt. “Ash made it clear that he doesn’t want to go without me. His father is meeting us at the bus stop tonight, so he’ll be there to help if he refuses to go alone. I can’t risk being the one to drive him to Maine. Not now.”

“You should have sent him away days ago. What were you thinking?” my father asked, his voice dropping low with the scolding tone that I was far too familiar with.

I’d have been more concerned to have him speak to me without it.

“I was thinking he deserved to attend his own mother’s fucking funeral,” I whispered, swinging my bedroom door closed and leaning against the back of it. I’d packed a small bag, mostly to convince Ash I had every intention of joining him at his father’s house. But I’d filled it with the small pieces of my life that mattered to me.

I wouldn’t be allowed to wear the clothes I preferred, the gray and black tones that covered me from head to toe not suited for a Green. My boots scuffed over the carpet in the bedroom as I moved toward my bed and sat on the edge, hanging my head in my hands.

“You’re playing with fire, girl. If they find out about him—”

“I know.” I sighed, rubbing at my eyes. My fingernails were painted a matte black, the polish chipped at the ends. I frowned at them as I pulled them away from my face.

“If he wanted to attend the funeral that badly, then you should have left and gone elsewhere. His father could have taken him,” my father, Samuel, said.

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