The Coven (Coven of Bones, #1)(78)

“Blood and bones,” he said, turning back to face the pile of organs and blood. He held up the rib, and I watched from behind him in horror as the blood formed a vortex. It swirled around in a circle, getting taller and taller, but staying within the confines of the mirror. Gray glanced back at me once more, cocking back his arm as if he meant to throw the rib.

“No!” I screamed, taking a single step toward him just as he tossed the rib into that storm.

It absorbed it, a flash of purple light erupting through the space. The blood drained to the ground, evaporating and revealing the form of a woman standing on the surface of the mirror. She wore a dress of dark fabric so shiny it looked like liquid.

Her face was tipped toward the ceiling, her chin angling down slowly as I stared at her in shock. Her hair was the same auburn tinted ebony.

She opened her eyes slowly, a spark of pale purple shining out from each. She smiled, the expression softening the harsh lines of her face.

“Hello, Willow.”





39





WILLOW





I gaped as I stared at the woman, as the remnants of the Covenant’s blood dripped from the silk of her gown. She touched Gray’s arm as she passed, squeezing him with a familiarity that made everything in me freeze solid. She didn’t linger as she passed him, her slow, steady strides crossing the distance between us until she stopped just in front of me.

A single youthful hand raised to my face, cupping my cheek as she stared down at me and smiled.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered, glancing over her shoulder to where Gray watched our interaction intently.

“But I think you do,” the woman said, dropping her hand from my face and stroking a finger over the necklace of bones as she lowered it to take my hands in hers.

I paused, staring into those ageless eyes that seemed to see inside of me—that seemed to understand me in ways no one else did or would. I couldn’t explain the connection, or the way the weight of that stare made something inside me rattle.

“Charlotte?” I asked, my gaze dropping to her teeth as her smile broadened.

She nodded, squeezing my hands as I gaped at her. I didn’t understand what resurrecting Charlotte Hecate meant or why it was so important, but she turned to face my father with a glare before I could ask any further questions.

“You swore you’d bring back my sister!” he shouted, his face mottled and angry as he leveled that glare at Gray. The Vessel was unimpressed, cleaning beneath his nails with the dagger he’d since picked up from the floor as if he feared I may try to stick him with the pointy end.

I would, determined to repay that favor.

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.

Ash bolted from my father’s side, running into the center of the Tribunal circle. I dropped to my knees on the tile as he slammed into my chest, knocking me back onto the balls of my feet as I curled him into my arms.

“Low,” he murmured, loud sobs wracking his little body.

“Shhh,” I whispered, forcing a fake smile to my face. Even knowing he couldn’t see it, that he’d buried himself in my chest too fiercely, it felt like an important act. “It’s going to be all right. I promise you’ll be all right.”

I squeezed him tightly as I watched Charlotte approach my father. She stomped her foot on the floor of the Tribunal room, and the stones and tiles separated beneath her. The pit that opened between her and my father was small and cramped, and she stepped around it to grab him by the back of his shirt.

“Let us see how you like living in the darkness,” she growled and tossed him into the hole.

He screamed as she waved her hand over the pit, clawing at the dirt that fell back in and slid to surround him. The stone and tiles repaired themselves in a slow wave, spreading across the top of the hole until there were no signs of damage.

Charlotte had buried my father in the ground beneath the school, and as her gaze came to mine and she raised her chin, I understood.

She knew. She knew what I had suffered when I disappointed him. Knew of the little coffin-shaped alcove he kept off the corner of his basement, where the only way out was through a locked door at my feet.

She knew the way dirt trickled through the cracks in the wood to touch my face, knew the way the darkness had settled itself inside my soul.

I swallowed, standing as she approached. Ash fastened himself to my legs, wrapping his arms around them tightly and refusing to let go. I didn’t speak a word of what Charlotte knew as she approached, that understanding arching between us as she rested a gentle hand atop my brother’s head and lowered herself in front of him.

“Juliet will take you back to your father now, Bug,” she said.

I shook my head, wrapping my arm more tightly over his shoulder and pressing him into me. Charlotte’s gaze was sympathetic and sad as she looked up at me.

“Don’t make me say goodbye again,” I begged.

“This goodbye is not forever, just for the moment,” she said, looking at the Vessel over my shoulder. Juliet stepped up, holding out a hand for Ash as I looked down at him and shook my head again.