The Coven (Coven of Bones, #1)(12)

And I ran.





6





GRAY





I snarled, thrashing what little I could as the tree roots tightened. One wrapped around the front of my throat, pressing against the same windpipe Willow had crushed on the porch only an hour before. Even with it already healed from the attack, the familiarity of the moment struck me in what would have been my heart if I’d had one.

I tugged at one of the roots, freeing my arm as they tried to pull me into the ground itself. My ribs cracked, my body caving with the force of them as the one that had wrapped itself around my torso yanked. As soon as I freed that hand, I clawed my way through the root at my throat, tearing the mangled, menacing thing and ignoring the scream that seemed to come from the bark as I tore it off.

A shadow appeared above me, blocking out the last of the sun as darkness descended on us. My skin tingled with irritation, the healing my body had needed burning through the witch’s blood in my body far too quickly. Without it, the sun would become more than just a minor irritation.

It would burn me alive.

Juliet swung her sword down, hacking at the thick root on my stomach. I resisted the urge to flinch back, trusting her not to cut through me. The piece of Willow’s tree shuddered, its ends trembling as it fought against the pain.

She swung her sword to the side as a tree branch swayed toward her, meeting it with a blow that sent it rippling back. Another struck for her in the very same moment, leaving her to defend herself rather than trying to free me. I clawed at the root on my torso while the trees were distracted by the greater threat, tearing through the wood slowly.

Juliet glanced down at me, raising a brow in mockery as she watched me struggle. “You underestimated her again,” she said, scoffing.

I growled my warning, even if she was right. I hadn’t expected her to be this in control of her magic. Even with her being the last of her line, as her brother hadn’t yet come into his power, I’d expected to find a half-trained witchling in need of serious educating about what she was capable of. I should have known better.

Flora Madizza had been a stubborn, defiant brat of a witch before she faked her own death to escape the Covenant. She’d spent far more time in the gardens than with her Coven.

Kairos joined the fray, the back of his neck marked with blood from where he’d cracked his head against the side of the house. If he caught Willow before I did, there would be very little I could do to control his rage. He dealt in absolutes. It didn’t matter to him if Willow was fighting for her brother’s life; he would seek to harm her in retribution, regardless.

Juliet cut through the rest of my binds quickly, leaving me to get to my feet and crack my neck as all my bones settled back into place, my body healing itself as the sun pressed down on me more firmly with each and every passing moment.

Part of me wanted her to bleed for what she’d done, for the humiliation of being felled by a single witchling. But the other part of me knew there were fates in store for her that would make for far more entertaining revenge.

I took a step toward the woods.

“You can’t seriously be thinking of following her in there?” Juliet asked as I spun and grabbed my sword from the backseat of the car she’d parked in the side of the yard.

I glanced at her over my shoulder, noting the way she studied the slight reddening of my skin. The sun would set soon enough, but who knew if we’d be safely back within the boundary of Crystal Hollow before morning?

Besides, I didn’t want one of the witches who waited for me there.

I wanted her.

“I’m hungry,” I said, listening to the sound of Willow as she raced through the woods. They seemed to move with her, rustling in her wake as if they worked to cover her path.

“It’s rude to play with your food,” Juliet said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Just find the boy,” I ordered, and I followed my dinner into the woods.





7





WILLOW





A branch brushed against my arm as I ran, the gentle touch of the leaves making me pause for a moment as I looked back toward the house. I was far enough that I couldn’t see it any longer, but I felt what the trees wanted me to know.

He was coming.

I looked to the right, knowing that I needed to buy Ash more time. His small legs hadn’t been able to cross distance as quickly as I could, and he didn’t have the woods at his command to bend and shift to ease his way.

Ten minutes. If I could buy him that against a Vessel, it would be a miracle.

I grasped the thickest part of the branch where the tree had reached out to touch me.

“Me paenitet,” I murmured, apologizing for the pain the tree would feel—for what I needed to take. I pulled my knife from the holster on my thigh, using it to saw through the branch. The tree didn’t shudder, didn’t show any sign of the pain I knew it felt.

Of the pain that struck me in the chest with every slice.

It seemed to wrap me in an embrace, comforting me even as I hurt it. It couldn’t speak, couldn’t give me the soft assurances as my mother once had as I did whatever I needed to do to protect Ash.

But it could hug me, wrapping its branches around my body.

I resisted the urge to cry when I finally managed to hack through the branch. Pressing the end between my thighs, I quickly worked to shave the other end into a pointed tip, breaking the smaller branches off the sides so that I would be able to grip it. I didn’t have much time. The earth sent a ripple toward me when he got too close for comfort.