The Coven (Coven of Bones, #1) (9)

Fucking witches.

The curtains on the front windows pulled closed even though she was nowhere to be seen in them, leaving me to turn to face that Hell-damned mailbox at the end of the driveway. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket, dialing Juliet’s number.

I descended the three steps that led to the ground in front of the porch, pressing it to the side of my face as I stared at the too-quiet house.

“Do you have her?” Juliet asked, and the sound of the SUV starting came through the call.

“No. She knows what we are. I want eyes on every exit point from the house,” I snapped, grinding my jaw as I walked around to the backyard and forcing myself to listen for any sound of escape. I’d be damned if she snuck out while I was alone.

“Got it,” Juliet said, undoubtedly shifting the car into gear. With no need for discretion any longer, she’d floor it down the road to close the minimal distance in no time.

“And Juliet? When she does surface, she’s mine. Is that understood?” I asked, wincing as I took a step and my balls throbbed with pain.

Juliet was silent for a moment, thinking before a harsh chuckle bubbled free. “The witch got the jump on you, didn’t she?”

“I underestimated her,” I admitted, staring at the closed curtains on the back of the small, green house. “I won’t make that mistake twice.”





5





WILLOW





“Get your bag,” I ordered, glaring at Ash and hurrying toward the small pantry closet off the kitchen. I hauled open the door, kneeling in front of the panel in the floor. My fingers felt along the edge, searching for the tiny groove where they would just slip in, and lifted the wood to reveal the rough, shabby staircase my mom and I had built ourselves when I’d turned sixteen.

“Low, what is that?” Ash asked, hiking his backpack up on his shoulders. I stood, placing a hand on the small of his back and pushing him into the dark. I flicked on the light to the hidden basement, illuminating the dirt floor at the base of the steps.

“Down you go,” I said, trying to keep the urgency from my voice. I didn’t want to frighten him—not when there were so many things he didn’t know. But with the Vessel waiting outside and plotting a way to force us out of the house, we needed to move.

He descended the stairs quickly, leaving me to slip into the narrow passage and pull the wood panel closed above me to cover our tracks. Every moment would count when it came to getting Ash out. With his powers bound, he would be safe from the Coven until I died at the very least—the ropes of his binding forged with grasses summoned by my magic.

I moved to one of the paneled walls of the basement, sliding the wood to the side to reveal the massive tree roots that had grown and spread beneath the passage that would lead us to freedom. It was why Mom had chosen this house, this place, as our sanctuary. The trees here went deep underground, making it easy for us to create tunnels beneath the surface.

“What are you doing?” Ash asked as I ran a palm over the first tree root. I grabbed the knife and sheath off the shelves of supplies in the basement, strapping the holster across my thigh and forcing myself to ignore the confused pain on my brother’s face.

This was the day I’d dreaded, the day that all our deceptions came to light.

I watched his face, his little forehead creased in confusion as I pulled the knife from the sheath.

“Willow,” he said, stepping forward as if to stop me when I drew the sharpened edge of the blade against my palm. A thin line sliced through, blood seeping through too slowly as I clenched it and pressed my fingertips into the wound. I held Ash’s horrified stare as I reached out with my palm covered in my blood, touching it to the tree root.

“Sanguis sanguinis mei, aperte,” I murmured, allowing my eyes to drift closed as the tree drank from me. As it took the blood I offered in exchange for safe passage to the woods. The magic of the Greens flowed through my veins even if the bones of the Blacks eluded me.

The root beneath my hand shifted, drawing my attention to it as it staggered and pulled itself through the earth. Dirt rained down from where the root moved, falling to the floor and finding a new home there. As it shifted to the side and rose, a tunnel appeared in the space it had once blocked.

I sheathed my knife, grasping Ash by the hand and tugging him toward it.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” he said, snatching his hand back as he left me glancing between him and the tunnel that offered us our only chance.

“There isn’t time,” I protested.

I went to the shelf of supplies we’d kept tucked safely away down here all these years, away from his prying, nosy eyes. My aunt’s journal rested on the top shelf, collecting dust since I’d finished reading through her experiences at Hollow’s Grove University years ago.

Stepping around to his back, I unzipped his backpack and deposited the journal into it. “This will explain most everything, and when you’re older, I’ll find a way to tell you more.”

My aunt wasn’t his aunt, and he wouldn’t have the same magic she did. She’d had the magic of the necromancers, not the earthen magic of Ash’s and my mother. But he would understand the basic notion of what it meant to be a witch.

Of the dangers lurking in Crystal Hollow that I needed to protect him from.