The Coven (Coven of Bones #1)

by Harper L. Woods

The words on the page were an echo of what my mother had taught me, that the Vessels had adopted new names upon entering the Vessels created for them. Nobody knew their true identities, whether the demons the Hecate line had given flesh were lesser demons or even if one of the seven demon lords walked amongst us. There were rumors that the first of the Vessels had been one of them, perhaps sent by the devil himself to supervise his new colony of worshipers on earth.

I grasped his wrist, guiding his hand away from my face. Leaning forward, I gave in to the desire to lick the blood from his mouth. Drawing his bottom lip into my mouth, I ran my tongue over the surface until the sweet taste of apple covered my tongue. I raised his hand to my mouth and sucked his thumb as deep as I could, consuming his blood and taking it as part of me.

“I still don’t like you,” I muttered, stepping back as I tried to compose myself. I braced myself, keeping a damper on my emotions. With his blood fresh in me, he’d have greater access. But not if I didn’t feel. He grinned, a soft chuckle leaving him as he stepped around his desk. “And I still intend to fuck you, Witchling.”

The only way a witch could keep a Vessel from feeding was to invoke the price of a broken bargain. The price was servitude—the inability to reject the other’s demands. If Gray failed to protect me from harm as promised, his life would belong to me. Whether I found the bones or not.

As it had been fifty years ago, something had been taken from the witch—something vital. Where her heart should have been was nothing but a gaping hole, and Willow stared into it. The other students who had gathered reacted far differently than she did, shocked gasps filling the courtyard.

I nodded, letting my eyes drift closed as she covered my eyes with the fabric. The moment it touched my skin, my eyes flung open. They found nothing but pitch, eternal black. Nothing but the void of all light and life. Like being buried alive. I whimpered, pinching my eyes closed again and trying to convince myself it was only the backs of my eyelids. That I wasn’t there all over again. I was at Hollow’s Grove. My father couldn’t touch me. Couldn’t punish me when I disobeyed him on the weekends he brought me to his cabin. Della raised my wrists to the hook, looping the chain over it. Only the clanking of them filled my ears over the sound of my own harsh, ragged breathing. I felt when she stepped away. The chain rose, dragging me up onto my toes as my arms pulled tight over my head. “It will be over soon, Willow,” she said, her footsteps fading away. Then she was gone, and I was alone again. Alone in my own personal Hell.

I wanted her as obsessed with me as I was with her.

I closed my eyes, promising myself she’d be gone and would have given up by the time I opened them. I counted my shuddering breaths, drawing them in as slowly as I exhaled them. The cold press of bones clawed over the skin of my wrist, wrapping around the back of my hand as I squeezed my eyes closed even tighter. The skin of her other hand touched my shoulder, the cold of it sinking within me the way my mother’s had. I’d thought her able to touch me because of who she was to me, but I forced my breathing to even out as Charlotte leaned into my back. If she’d wanted to hurt me, she would have.

Glass clinked behind me as I took a step, making me twist slightly to look back. The glass slid over the floor, arranging itself on the surface of the mirror and reassembling. Darkness shrouded it, swirling around it for a brief moment. When it faded, the mirror was whole once more.

Everything in me stilled. By the time I’d reached her, her fear had coated the room. It had left a relentless chill in the room, as if Willow had tried to summon the grave to swallow her whole. Such things were impossible, but that didn’t stop me from pausing before I’d entered the room. The distinctive taste of magic in the air had been unmistakable, but there’d been very little plant life for Willow to summon to her aid.

My father’s best efforts had stopped being productive when I’d reached my teen years, quickly outmatching him, and he’d had to focus my training in other ways. With other opponents, trapped in a ring where he could place bets on whether I’d win or lose and make money off my attempts.

The crowd that surrounded the body had formed in the exact spot Gray and I had sparred earlier in the day, where both our blood had spilled on the ground by the end of the training session.

The murders have occurred where her blood has spilled…

Two. I swallowed, staring at the word as my horror mounted. Gray had wanted me to see it; he’d dragged me here so that I could see the message written in blood.

“Before Charlotte Hecate was torn apart and her pieces scattered, she foretold a prophecy of the daughter of two,”

The opportunity to find out the information I’d been denied all my life. “What kind of prophecy?” I asked. “Charlotte foretold of a witch born between two bloodlines who would restore what had been lost to time,” Susannah said, clasping her hands in front of her. “What does that even mean?” I asked, glancing at Gray. He shrugged. “All manner of things have been lost to time. It could have been anything. Charlotte was … troubled toward the end of her life. The way of things often left her deeply unsettled,” he answered, taking my arm despite the watchful eye of the Covenant. She didn’t seem surprised by the intimate touch as he led me away, heading back toward the school.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, just in case, Miss Tethys,” Gray said, holding her gaze intently. “Until we know who we can trust, we need to keep this to ourselves.” “You suspect someone?” she asked. He nodded. “None of the Vessels do anything without my knowledge. I can attest to the whereabouts of each of them tonight.” “So it wasn’t one of them. But who else could use compulsion?” she asked. “The prophecy referred to a daughter of two. If one of those lines happened to be the Hecate line … that witch could compel if she managed the impossible and found Charlotte’s bones,” he said, but my brow furrowed. That wasn’t possible. Because it certainly hadn’t been me who lured the witch from his bed. I didn’t speak a word.

“You expect us to believe you have nothing to do with it? Your blood rejuvenated the courtyard, and the first body was found there within days. You bled on the ground outside today and now Bash is dead, too; his body just conveniently left there? You’re at the center of fucking everything that has gone wrong here,” she said, her voice rising as the flat of her palm struck me across the cheek. My face turned with the force of it, and I raised a hand to touch the blood that welled at the corner of my lip. “I’m not going to fight you,” I said, shaking my head as one of her friends raised his hands, ready to defend her. “What are you? Afraid?” the other girl asked. “Yes,” I said, breathing evenly. “But not of you.” Her friend struck forward, sinking his fist into my gut and knocking the breath out of me. “Then fight, bitch.” “You spelled witch wrong,” I argued, forcing my hands to stay still at my sides. My magic tried to rise within me, but I rolled my neck to the side and inhaled, keeping it locked within my chest and refusing to let it crack the stones of the school with my anger. “I am afraid of whatever is killing us. That’s why I’m not going to fight you.” Another punch to my stomach, followed by one that struck my nose. It crunched in my face. Blood burst from it and dripped down over my lips. Pain made my head throb, but it was nothing compared to what I’d already endured at far more vicious hands. “Because you’ll just kill us instead?” he sneered. “Because I know how ...

His room was closer than the earth at the bottom, and I knew I was going to regret the choice when he hunted them down and killed them all the next day. Why would he bother? That nagging voice in the back of my mind needed to shut the fuck up, needed to keep out of my business. I let go of the railing, sprawling across the floor in front of his door. I was shocked to find he hadn’t already felt my pain, that his blood in me hadn’t been enough to alert him to what happened. Maybe he’d hoped they would finish the job and he wouldn’t be held responsible because of our bargain. Even with that condemning thought dancing in my head, I pulled myself toward his room, seeking the one place I felt even remotely safe.

“I think it’s time you acknowledge that it is too late to save yourself from me, love.”

“Are you going to fuck me, Headmaster?” “Fucking Hell, Willow.”

“And if I was? What difference would it have made?” Silence arched between us as I opened my eyes slowly, meeting the storm waging in his eyes with a twist of my lips as I fought back the burn of tears. “The only person who would care is—” Gray closed the distance between us, stepping into the shower and backing me into the wall. Water beat down on his head, slicking his dark hair to his skin as his eyes sparked with anger. “I. Would. Care.”

“You fight. Every moment of every day, you fight. Because that is who you are,” he whispered, dropping his forehead to mine. “What happens when I’m tired of fighting?” I asked, trying to ignore the pool of tears threatening to fall. Hoping the water from the shower would wash them away before he could notice. His face softened, his lips touching mine in a kiss that was so much more delicate than any other. “Then you let me do it for you.”

My heart twisted, my breathing stalling. The door pulled out of my hand, slamming shut as I whirled to face the man who’d stepped out of the bathroom to find me attempting to flee. He’d stripped off his clothes, the lines of corded, well-trained muscle tensing and relaxing as he dropped the towel he’d used to dry his hair to the floor. Another towel was tied around his waist, and I swallowed as I pressed my back into the door behind me.

“You’re so focused on the Reaping that you haven’t even stopped to consider the greater concern, have you?” he asked, leaning down to touch his mouth to mine. He paused there, steely eyes staring at me as his fang touched my lip when he smirked. “I can feel your magic flowing through me—even the faintest whisper of what you cannot touch.” I froze, my body going still as I stared up at him in horror. I swallowed as he wrapped his palm around the front of my throat—shoving me into the door and pinning me there. I struggled against his grasp, the terror clawing at me making me frantic as I scratched his arms with my nails. “Gray, please—” He reached up, wiping a terrified tear from my face and ignoring the way I fought against him. “I’ve known exactly what you are for quite some time, Witchling.”

I let my eyes drift closed, my brow twisting with the pain of having to admit what I never wanted to think about. “I didn’t want to do it,” I said, my voice sounding far more hollow than I cared for. “Do what exactly, Witchling? What was your plan for me?” he asked, shaking me as he gripped my throat. I opened my eyes just enough to peer up at his blazing eyes of steel, at the storm that raged within him. “I was going to Unmake you. All of you,” I admitted, my bottom lip trembling. Gray released my throat, rising to his knees as he straddled my waist. Something in his face reminded me of devastation, and if he’d been capable of feeling such a thing, I might have believed it. “But you didn’t want to,” he said, his voice a quiet murmur. I couldn’t decide if his rage still existed, if it lingered beneath the surface, or if he’d entered that place of disbelief where even rage couldn’t touch us. “I wouldn’t have hesitated with any of the others,” I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. Getting rid of them was a means to an end, a way to free the Coven from the deal it had made and the Vessels that trapped us within it. “But you…” “You expect me to believe that?” he scoffed, staring down at me as if he saw me for the first time. “You’ve been after my cock since you got here. Did you think I was hiding the bones there?” I pushed up onto my elbows, staring up at him and shaking my head. “That’s not— It might have started that way, but it wasn’t. Fuck.” I groaned, dragging my hands ove...

“Do you know what happens to a witch in the Coven on her sixteenth birthday?” he asked, his eyes drifting closed as he slid his tongue into my entrance and fucked me with it. Finding any traces of the blood from losing my virginity. “No,” I said, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t like it. I had a feeling my father had either unknowingly or willingly set me up for something that would be more dangerous than I realized. “There is magic in blood and sex, some of the most potent that exists. On their sixteenth birthday, a female witch must choose a partner to give herself to. A witch wouldn’t dare risk her first time being with a Vessel,” he said, dragging another slow, torturous swipe of his tongue through me. I froze as he crawled up my body, prowling over me. He slid into me in one smooth movement, taking his time and moving slowly as he reclaimed the space that he’d made his own. He pulled back slowly when he met resistance, working the rest of his length into me bit by bit. “Why not?” I asked, sliding my hands around to his back. I winced when he found the newly tender tissue, working his way through it even as I gasped. “If there is magic in blood, imagine what kind of magic resides in blood that can only be given once? It forms a bond, an obsession, between the Vessel and his witch,” he said, snapping his hips forward and burying himself to the hilt. I whimpered, my body feeling too full as he lingered there. One of my hands dropped between us, pushing against his hips lig...

The next bolted forward, and I shoved my arms in front of my body. Crossing them, I muttered beneath my breath as the trees followed. A thick, sturdy branch from each side of the clearing surrounding us followed suit, crossing to wrap around one of the beast’s front legs on the opposite side. I squeezed my hands together as the creature tripped. The branches tightened as they wound tighter around his limbs. I pinched my eyes tightly closed in regret when he came closer still, stopping just in front of me when the branches held tight. “Scissura,” I whispered, wrenching my arms apart. The branches pulled quickly, uncrossing and tearing the animal’s legs from its body. Its howl of pain filled the woods.

The hands holding the creature pulled, a roar filling the air as the beast’s jaw separated, snapping as it broke. The hands ripped and tore until blood burst from the creature like an explosion. It covered me, raining down on me. I blinked through it and shuddered on the ground. I pushed up to my elbows, staring at what remained of the creature as the man holding him tore him straight down the middle, severing his body from head to groin into two halves. He discarded the halves to the ground in a pile of mutilated flesh, those steely blue eyes rising to meet my shocked stare. Fuck.

I spun away from Willow as the last of the wolves leapt up behind me. Thrusting my arm forward, I drove it into the creature’s chest and stopped him with my other hand on his mouth. Grasping his snout in my grip, I pinned it closed with a growl of my own as I leaned in to show my teeth. “Mine,” I snarled. I held its gaze as I yanked my hand free from his chest, taking his heart with me and dropping both the dead body and still pumping flesh to the forest floor. Willow moved behind me, getting to her feet.

She was such a unique conundrum, my witch of two bloodlines. Someone I had spent a very, very long time waiting for.

I raised tentative fingers to touch them, wincing back from the feeling they created within me. My earth magic felt like life, like new growth and spring. This felt like the slow decay of autumn, like the death of all nature.

Kairos shoved open the door as he stepped into the office. “We found her. The plants didn’t want to let her go, but—” I reached out with my hand, laying it on the bare skin of his neck. The magic of the bones pulsed out immediately, spreading through my veins. He froze, his eyes wild as he looked down at me in horror, his gaze settling on the bones around my neck. “Release him, Witchling,” Gray said, taking a step toward me. Fury rose in me as his compulsion slid over my skin, never seeming to sink inside me and force me to obey as I turned my glare back to him. I didn’t so much as glance at Kairos as I let that magic spread through the Vessel, Unmaking the very fabric that had woven him together. His body slipped, melting away. Gray’s jaw clenched. When I turned my gaze back to Kairos, all that remained was a puddle of muddy earth on the floor, what my ancestor had given to lend to his creation.

His fang pierced my hand, but I willed that magic into my palm to Unmake him. Smiling into my grip, Gray drew his tongue over the wound he’d created and pulled my blood into his body once again. “There’s so much of your blood in me, Witchling. You cannot Unmake me, because those bones recognize me as part of you.”

the Vessel who’d brought her dropped two items onto the floor next to the mirror. I stared at them, my heart beating wildly as I tried to determine what they were. Tried to make sense of what I was seeing. A heart. The deep bluish-purple flesh should have been rotted by now if it was what I suspected. I gagged, horror dawning along with my realization. The piece of flesh beside it was less identifiable, but I couldn’t stop my hand from trembling where Gray held me. “It’s a liver,” he said, answering my silent question. Two. A heart and a liver. I swallowed back bile, blood roaring in my ears. “What have you done?”

“Your aunt screamed when I cut her throat before she could ever lay a hand on me to Unmake me,” he repeated.

My heart sank, dropping into my stomach as two figures strode into the Tribunal room. My father’s face was twisted with arrogance as he guided the small figure at his side. His knife lingered just in front of Ash’s throat as everything in me stilled.

When it seemed like Susannah would fill out with skin finally, Gray tore my hands down and severed the magic. The freshly grown flesh melted from their bodies, dropping to the ground as liquid. The thick, viscous blood slid across the floor, gathering in a pool just on top of the mirror and filling the space between the pile of organs. George shook his head as the last of his flesh faded, leaving him as nothing but bones again. They sparkled for just a moment as he turned to face his other half, the Covenant reaching toward one another. The tips of their finger bones just brushed against one another—the barest of touches—and the Covenant exploded into bone dust. I stared in horror at the space they’d once occupied, only turning my attention away when Gray spun me to face him. His eyes were on mine as he placed his hand on top of one of my shoulders, steadying me against the panic I felt. Not knowing what he was doing, what was next, was almost too much to bear. The tip of his blade pressed into my stomach, pushing forward slowly as he held me still. I gasped as it cut me open, sliding into my skin. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, touching his forehead to mine as he pushed the blade in to the hilt. I wheezed, gasping for breath as the white-hot burning consumed me. “It will be over soon.” The betrayal hurt almost as much as the knife. It felt as if it punctured a hole in my heart that would never heal. I stared up at him as tears streamed down my cheeks, whimpering in pain as he...

Charlotte advanced on my father, that slow gait of hers eerie and terrifying as she raised a single hand. My father gasped for breath, releasing the knife he’d held to Ash’s throat and grasping his own as he clawed at his skin. As he tried to free himself from the witch who was suffocating him without ever laying a hand upon him. “Only the worst kind of man would harm his own daughter,” Charlotte said.

“I am merely a gift from your husband so that you can survive what comes next.”

But it was the sleeping figure upon the cot that stole the breath from my lungs. Facedown upon it, the open, weeping wounds where wings should have been were an identical match for the portrait in Gray’s office. He didn’t move, His chest didn’t rise or fall, even as Belphegor carried the other end of the cot. They maneuvered Lucifer up and out of the pits. The male form lying sprawled on the cot in front of me was dead, entirely devoid of life. But the devil couldn’t die. “Why is He like that? Why isn’t He moving?” I asked Charlotte, refusing to look into the pits and watch as the remaining of the seven archdemons of Hell made their way for the hole between realms. The one I’d opened when I broke the seal. She smiled sadly, holding my horrified stare with a soft expression. “Oh, sweetheart, because His soul is already here.”

Gray dropped his hand to my shoulder, brushing his touch against the mark of the devil’s eye on my skin. I jolted, shifting forward to get away from the touch, as I spun to look at him over my shoulder. Those steely eyes held no apology as he watched me, as he watched understanding dawn on me. “You once asked me my true name,” he said, the cruelty in those words sinking into my gut. “Are you ready for the answer yet, wife?”

“I will never forgive you for this,” I seethed. “You will,” he said softly, running his knuckles down the side of my cheek and drawing my attention to him. “In time, you’ll realize just how fleeting human life is. How little it matters. When everyone you know has died and lies rotting in the earth, you and I will remain. You will find that anything can be forgiven, if given the time for memory to fade.” “I’m human. I will die like all the rest,” I said, pushing to my feet. “You will not remain that way for long,” he said, reaching down to take my hand.

His face was familiar, as if Gray’s Vessel had been molded to His likeness. It dashed any hope I had of escaping the truth staring me in the face. That I’d fucked the goddamn devil Himself.

“I cannot love you in this form,” he said, his voice softening as he took my other hand in his and rested it atop the chest of his other body. His true body. “But I can in my own. Let me love you as you deserve, Witchling.”