The Coven (Coven of Bones, #1)(61)

The Hecate line had been known for prophecy and metaphysical magic far more elusive than the more tangible magics of the elements the other lines favored. The cosmic witches focused on divination even more intensely, but the ways they channeled the stars to tell them the stories of the future were far different from the Hecate way of hearing whispers from the ghosts of our ancestors.

From the bones of Charlotte herself.

But I didn’t yet have the bones, had no connection to Charlotte aside from my distant, removed blood that was just as far removed as the Covenant. But whereas my relation to Susannah filled me with some of my greatest shame, the connection to the brave witch who had started it all was my source of pride.

The image of her walking through the forest at night filled me with a sudden rush, her deep auburn hair blowing in the wind as her cloak fluttered about at her feet. She was younger than I’d imagined. Something dark glimmered in the distance in front of her. The figure of a man waited for her at the edge of the trees, and the magic pulsing off him was dark.

Stained with death and decay, he held out a hand for the young witch.

She spun, and her eyes connected with mine in a moment of shock. It was the same feeling I’d had when Loralei stared at me and spoke. Even though Charlotte didn’t speak a word, she nodded briefly once before she stepped into the embrace of an eternal darkness. It choked out the light, flooding the hallways that both surrounded me and didn’t all at once. The sconces lining the halls flickered out, the lightbulbs within them bursting. The sound of glass striking the stone floor jolted me out of the illusion.

I gasped for breath, feeling as if I’d only just returned to my body. My skin felt strange, suddenly foreign, rather than the home that had housed my soul for the entirety of my existence.

For a moment, I’d been weightless. Drifting and free, separated from the flesh and bone that tied me to this plane.

Figures stepped around the corner at the end of the hallway, and I felt a moment of panic that the devil from my vision had seen me. That he’d followed me through the memory of Charlotte and had come to take me, to claim what he’d marked as his. I reached behind me, touching gentle fingers to the marks on my shoulder through the t-shirt I’d tugged on before leaving my room.

Even though I didn’t trust Gray, I was far better off with him being the sole keeper of that knowledge. No one else needed to know that the devil’s eye marred my shoulder.

“Madizza?” one of the men said as he stepped up.

I didn’t recognize him from the legacies I’d spent most of my time with during classes, and a quick glance at the two girls and two boys who accompanied him confirmed that I didn’t know any of them either. The one who’d spoken glared at me, and I swallowed as I prepared for whatever argument was coming.

One of the other guys whispered, his voice low, drawn out, and mocking. “Helloooo, Willoowwww.”

“That’s me,” I said, forcing a smile even as my unease grew. They spread through the hall, surrounding me as they moved, and a chill skittered up my spine.

“Looking for your next victim?” one of the girls asked.

I turned my stare to her, my brow furrowing as I pursed my lips.

“She’s not the killer, Demi. She’s the one who should be dead. Not Shawn,” the first witch said.

“Or maybe she’s just trying to throw us off her trail,” Demi said, raising a brow as she sneered at me.

“I’m not the one doing this. Just because I’m a Madizza, that doesn’t mean I’m safe from whatever this is. I’m one of the thirteen, all the same as you,” I answered, thinking back to the bodies of the two students who had already died. I wished more than anything that there was something I could do to stop the killings, and maybe the best way for me to move forward was to refocus on finding the bones.

To stop delaying what I needed to do. Stop antagonizing the headmaster and make myself malleable.

Become whatever he wanted me to be.

“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.