This Coven Won't Break (These Witches Don't Burn, #2)

by Isabel Sterling

This is one of the few downsides to dating a Blood Witch, besides the strange looks my fellow Elementals give me: it’s impossible to hide my feelings when she can sense the literal rhythm of my heart. Morgan can’t sense that for everyone, just people whose blood she’s touched, and if my coven knew that I’d voluntarily given her access to mine? Well, the weird looks would be the least of my problems.

I’m okay. I can do this. If I can survive the Witch Hunters, I can survive high school.

“Your heart is racing,” she says, her voice soft. “Yeah?” I hadn’t noticed it before, but now I feel it speed even faster. Embarrassment warms my cheeks until I’m sure they’re matching hers. “What can I say?” I whisper, trying for nonchalance but failing miserably. “Seeing you does silly things to my heart.” I cringe as soon as the words pass my lips. Dating her has made me cheesier than being with Veronica ever did, but Morgan doesn’t seem to mind.

The thought of my sweet Grandma Rose raising her voice doesn’t compute. I can’t even imagine her getting angry or upset. Unlike my other grandmother, Lady Ariana, who seems to run on a steady diet of familial disappointment and disapproval.

When I get back, Morgan is sprawled out on Gemma’s bed with her face buried in a carnation pink novel. “You read more than anyone I know.” I set the chair next to Gemma. “What’s this one about?” “International politics.” “Seriously?” Morgan glances up, a smile quirking her lips. She looks so cute, I’m worried my heart might combust. Thankfully, her Blood Magic could probably fix that. “It’s also very gay,” she adds, a quality I’ve learned she values in books.

“Anyway, the Eldest Sister created the Caster Witches, and when it was the Middle Sister’s turn, she wanted to create a flashier magic. So, she covered the world with storms. Those who danced in the rains became Elementals.” I grin. “That’s why we tend to see rainy days as good luck.” “Weirdos,” Morgan mutters affectionately under her breath, but I’m not entirely sure if she’s talking about my Clan or the guys in her book.

The detective flinches. It’s a small thing, there one second and gone the next. “If I could take your place, I’d do it in a heartbeat.” He reaches for me, and I step forward into his embrace. “You shouldn’t have to do this,” he whispers, hugging me tight. I never noticed before, but he must wear the same cologne as Dad. The familiarity of the scent and the strong arms around me tighten my throat. “But I have faith in you. Call me if you need anything.”

“But Morgan’s a Blood Witch like Alice. She can help with the recruiting. It’s this next left.” I hold my breath until Sarah sighs and puts on her blinker for the turn. “Do you want her help with the magician, or do you want to make her clothes disappear?” “Hey!” Sarah laughs, and the earlier tension melts away completely.

She kisses me like she wants to remember every second. She kisses like she wants to forget everything else.

“Oh my god, Mom. Stop.” I’m dying. I am literally going to drop dead on this couch. “First of all, it’s been closer to two months. And more importantly, we did not have sex!” “Just because there’s no penetration doesn’t mean it isn’t sex.” Is this hell? I’m pretty sure this is hell. I am not about to explain queer girl sex to my mom. Nope. Not going to happen. She’s not wrong, there doesn’t have to be penetration but—nope. Not even going there.

“What will the potion do?” Cal doesn’t look at me when he says, “Kill them.” His words ricochet inside me, battering my ribs. Too many emotions rise up inside, and I can’t piece together what it is I’m feeling. Relief that we finally have a plan. Vindication that Dad’s murderers will be punished for what they did. But there’s also this sense of unease. Does murdering the people who want us dead make us villains, too?

As we’re getting ready to wrap up, a door opens and slams shut somewhere in the house. “Is someone here?” Images of escaped Hunters fill my mind, but Elder Keating steps into the kitchen before Archer can explain. I relax. A little. The Elder looks more disheveled than I’ve ever seen her, a few flyaway hairs sticking to her face and neck. She opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of water, downing half before she turns to face us. There’s a vulnerability to the moment that makes her seem more real. Like she actually has a past and a life like everyone else and didn’t burst into existence as an Elder.

“Did they give you anything?” Archer stands and motions for Cal to help him. They grab some premade sandwiches from the fridge and more of the water. “They’re basically children. They don’t know nearly as much as I’d like.” She watches her agents leave, then sits in Archer’s vacant chair. “The young woman, Paige, reminds me of my brother’s wife. Well, ex-wife. She’s exhausting.”

“You have a brother?” I ask, before I think better of it. She may be an Elder, but she must have had a childhood like everyone else. “I did,” she says wistfully. “He was actually the one who encouraged me to join the Council. Even among witches, the seventies weren’t an easy time for a woman to be in a position of power, especially a woman in her early twenties. I was one of the first female agents on the Council, but my brother never had any doubt about my ability to succeed. He always believed I’d become an Elder one day.”

“How did this happen?” Veronica asks when we’re stuck in traffic near Albany. She’s sitting in the back of the car with me, and though it’s not strictly safe, she’s letting me lie across the seat with my head nestled on the sweater in her lap. She plays with my hair, brushing it back out of my face. The soothing gesture reminds me so much of her mother. Mrs. Matthews does the same thing whenever a coven kid is sick, and it makes me miss my own mom so much it physically hurts.

Sleep must come for me, dragging me from despair into unconsciousness, because I see Dad. He doesn’t want me to give up, but what am I supposed to do? You can’t fight a hurricane with half an umbrella.

“So, are you embarrassed of me or them?” I ask when the door closes behind us. My girlfriend freezes halfway across the room. She glances back at me, a mixture of shock and embarrassment on her face. “What? No, not you. Never you. My mom and dad are just . . . super dorky. I’m trying to spare you their weird parent humor. Especially Dad’s. That’s the one downside to having a bisexual dad. You get Dad Jokes and bi puns.”

Morgan rolls her eyes. “What’s up, Dad?” “Besides my blood pressure?” He chuckles to himself, clearly amused. I’m . . . confused. “Is that supposed to be a Blood Witch joke?” I whisper to Morgan. I’m fairly certain their magic would prevent those kinds of medical conditions. “Yeah. It’s easier if you ignore him.” “Hey now, don’t sass your elders.” Mr. Hughes props his hands on his hips and gives Morgan what from my mom would be A Look, but from him makes me think I’m missing out on some inside joke. “Oh, are we admitting you’re old now?” she asks, all innocent charm. “Keep it up, missy, and you’ll be banned from reading.” Morgan fakes a gasp. “Never!”

These kids, with their hatred and their cult-like obedience, are the real monsters. Hunters who want to kill us for no other reason than we exist. For the first time, I understand why the Council wants to kill them all. Even if we showed every kindness, they would never acknowledge our humanity.

If the Hunters will do this to their own children, what will they do to us?

When I’m done, he tips his head back against the wall and stares at the ceiling. “Fuck, Hannah.” His profanity startles me, and it’s like his entire persona as a detective, as an agent for the Council, crumbles away. He looks at me like I’m a kid sister he wants desperately to protect.

Mom sits beside me, and I catch myself shooting nervous glances at her. I finally understand why she hated me being involved with the Council so much. Watching her run toward danger feels terrible.