Dead of Night: Book One in the Thorne Hill Series

by Goodwin, Emily

  I look at Lucas. “If—and I mean a big fat if—I decide to let you take me out on a date, it’s going to have to wait.”

  * * *

  “Are you really not going to elaborate?” Kristy adjusts the black cloak around her shoulders. We’re walking into the woods on our way to find the magical doorway that leads us to the Covenstead.

  “About what?”

  “Uh, maybe how that tall, dark, and handsome vampire showed up wanting to take you on a date.”

  “Oh, you heard?”

  She shoots me a look. “Of course I heard. And I totally agree with you on how attractive he is, but can you trust him?”

  “No, though if I were to have a type, it’s men who want to kill me.”

  Kristy laughs and links her arm through mine. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny. But it is since it’s true.”

  “Go ahead, laugh at my misery and how I’ll be alone forever.”

  “Oh, shut up. You’re a totally hot witch and you just need to put yourself out there more.”

  It’s too dark for her to see me roll my eyes. We pick our way through the forest, black cloaks flowing behind us. I lean in, pulling Kristy closer to me.

  “Do you feel like we’re being watched?” I whisper.

  “I was just going to ask you.”

  We come to a stop, turning around.

  “Hello,” I call out. “Show yourself.”

  The wind picks up, and something rattles through the full leaves on the tree above us.

  “Cloaks up?” Kristy whispers, and I nod, flipping the hood of my cloak up to cover my head.

  “Light of the moon, dark of the night, cloak us from all, hide us from sight,” we say the incantation at the same time. Kristy exhales, and I take another second to look around. Something is following us. We can’t see it, but now it can’t see us. Two can play this game.

  We trek another mile into the forest, following the Ley line. It leads to a large oak tree, taller than every other tree around it. Dead branches hang low, swaying slightly in the breeze. Kristy and I join hands, holding up our free hands and pointing them at the tree.

  “Invoco elementum terrae,” Kristy starts.

  “Invoco elemuntum aeris.” I feel the power rush through me.

  “Invoco elemuntum aqua.”

  “Invoco elemuntum ignis.”

  A door starts to appear in the old tree. I let go of Kristy’s hand to retrieve an athame from my belt. We each need to shed a drop of blood, so the door knows who is trying to open it. I’ve watched too many witches cut their hands or their fingers doing this and all I can think is rookie.

  Cuts on your hands and fingers are the worst. You know how long those suckers take to heal? You’re always using your hands. Instead, I press the dagger to my forearm, slicing open my skin. I press the flat side of the blade against the cut, collecting a few drops of blood. Then I plunge the dagger into the earth before the door. Kristy does the same, and the door opens, shining bright blue and white. It’s protected with magic, and if anyone who wasn’t supposed to be here tried to get through, they’d get a nasty burn.

  We pick up our athames, wiping the blood and dirt off before putting them away, and then step through the door. Going through the door is a bit like going home. Once you step through, you enter a courtyard leading to a large, brick building. The main meeting hall of the coven is right inside, and beyond that is Grim Gate Academy. Every single person in the Covenstead is a witch. We’re all able to do magic to varying degrees. I have nothing to hide here.

  Though, even here I never quite fit in. I came too late, had too much power for a witch brought up in a non-magical home. And the headmaster of the school—who’s now the High Priestess of our coven—was a little too fond of me. The others claimed it was unfair. But without Tabatha, I’d be dead. I know it.

  And she knows it too.

  The Witching Hour hasn’t yet begun, but the meeting hall is almost full. Kristy and I take the first seats we can find, slipping into a row near the back. White candles are lit in all four corners of the room, and the sacred eternal black candle burns at the center of the altar. The eldest of the coven sit behind it at the back of the altar, all wearing traditional robes or cloaks.

  “Everyone seems nervous,” Kristy whispers, keeping her hood up so she can look around. “And do you smell that?”

  “Sage.”

  “What are they trying to keep away?”

  Shaking my head, I get a flash of the man in the dark robes staggering to me. The smell of charred human flesh fills my nose, making me sick. I grab my hair and pull it over my face, breathing in the floral scent of my conditioner.

  A single clap of thunder echoes throughout the entire Covenstead, letting us know it’s officially midnight. Double doors to the side of the altar open and the High Priestess enters the meeting hall. All of the witches bow their heads as a sign of respect. To everyone else, she’s High Priestess Greystone, but to me, she’s Tabatha, the woman who saved me from hell.

  Though even Evander, Tabatha’s son, has his head bowed down. Usually, coven gatherings start with a prayer to the Goddess, a blessing from the elements, or some sort of chant or spell.

  But today, High Priestess Greystone goes to the altar, face tight, and cuts right to the chase.

  “I’ve gathered you all here to be the bearer of bad news,” she starts. “But it’s imperative we all know, and we all prepare.” She pauses, looking out at the faces before her. It seems dramatic to take a few seconds after unloading that on us all, but I know Tabatha, and I know she’s looking out at her coven, madly trying to come up with a spell or a charm to keep us all safe.

  “I’m afraid,” she starts again, planting her hands on the old wooden platform in front of her. “I’m afraid there might be a witch hunter in our area.”

  Chapter 7

  Witch hunter.

  A collective uproar works its way through the coven, with witches shouting out questions. Witch hunters are problematic in the obvious way of wanting to kill us, but also in the way they’re typically humans. Humans who’ve had some sort of run-in with witches before and know how we operate. They know the basics of spellcasting and, more often than not, have amulets that block a witch’s power.

  Only a few other witches in the room have powers like mine, and all are twice my age at least. Manipulating energy came naturally for me, which is part of the reason I had a hard time fitting in back in my school days. Some witches study energy manipulation and conjuring for years and still can’t do it half as well I was able when I was just a teen. Those who can’t conjure and hold raw energy in their hands…who can’t telekinetically push attackers away…they’ll be the most vulnerable to a witch hunter’s attack.

  “I assure you,” High Priestess Greystone goes on after she addressed some of the coven’s concerns. “We will find who is responsible and then we shall burn him at the stake and feast on his flesh!”

  The coven breaks out in a cheer and Kristy turns to me, blue eyes wide with fear.

  “If we stick together, we shall prevail.” High Priestess Greystone steps away from the podium, coming down off the altar to speak one-on-one with the members of the coven. I catch Evander’s eye and wave him over.

  “Cal,” he says, opening his arms for a hug. “I swear, sister, you age a year backwards every time I see you.”

  “I’ve perfected an anti-aging elixir,” I say so seriously even I almost believe me. “I’ll sell you a bottle for a low-low price of five hundred bucks.”

  He claps my back and laughs before releasing me from his bear hug. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.” Evander is very much like an older brother to me, and we got into the habit of referring to each other as “brother” and “sister” back in our Academy days. It was easier to explain the nature of our relationship that way, since, after all, I lived with his family my first year at school. “Why do I feel there’s more to this than we’ve been told?”

 
; “Because there is.” His black robe is lined with silky crimson material, matching the tie he has on over his black button-up shirt. Evander’s always had a need to be flashy and find a way to add color and style to the plain black attire we’re supposed to wear to coven gatherings.

  He nervously shifts his gaze to his mother, knowing he shouldn’t be sharing what he’s about to tell me. “I overheard Mother speaking to the High Priest of the Circle of the Crescent Moon. These killings—”

  “There’s been more than one?”

  “Two women have been found with their throats ripped out and then their bodies burned. Both murders have happened under the cover of dark.”

  “Killed at night and throats ripped out?” My chest tightens. “Sounds like a vampire.”

  Evander shakes his head. “If the bodies hadn’t been burned, we would have assumed so. But vampires don’t typically burn their victims.”

  “Right. That’s more the style of a witch hunter.”

  “Whoever this is…they’re leaving a blood bath in their wake.” Evander’s jaw tenses.

  “Almost as if they want to be caught.”

  Evander grabs my hand. “Yes. To be brought to trial inside the Covenstead. It’s the only way to get inside.”

  “And once they’re in…” I don’t have to finish my sentence. We both know what would happen if a witch hunter got loose inside the Covenstead. We’d stop them, I’m sure, but not before blood is spilled.

  * * *

  Kristy and I step out of the Covenstead, entering the woods in our hometown again. Clouds cover the moon, darkening the already black forest.

  “Evander told me something.” I flip the hood of my cloak up, not to conceal myself but because the air has taken a chill to it. “He overheard his mother talking with another High Priest. They think the witch hunter wants to be caught.”

  “And brought to trial.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But why?” Kristy tightens her cloak around her body. “They’d be surrounded by witches.”

  “That’s what I thought, but that could mean—” I cut off when something rustles through the woods mere feet from us. I reach out and take Kristy’s hand.

  “Cloaking spell,” I whisper. “Now.”

  “That won’t keep you from me,” a raspy voice echoes through the trees.

  “Who are you?” I ask the dark.

  “Who are you talking to?” Kristy asks, squeezing my hand.

  “That voice,” I tell her. “Someone is here.”

  “I didn’t hear anything.”

  I hold out my right hand and conjure a ball of white light. I toss it up and it illuminates the dark trees, casting shadows on the forest floor.

  “Half-breed,” the voice rasps. “We’ve been looking for you.”

  “I’m not a half-breed,” I shout.

  “Callie, what’s going on?” Kristy reaches into her pocket and pulls out a satchel of black salt. “Who are you talking to?”

  I take my hand from hers and move a few paces forward. My heart is hammering in my ears.

  “I don’t have time for this.” I splay my fingers, and the ball of light grows bigger, brightening the forest. “Are you the witch hunter?”

  “He’s not looking for a witch. He’s looking for the half-breed. I’ll be rewarded when I take you to him.”

  “If you’re going to take me, then you better come out of the shadows, coward!” I shout.

  The sounds of the night come to a stop. The gentle breeze intensifies, blowing dry dirt and dust into the air. It swirls around me, getting into my eyes. It burns, but it’s much more than the normal pain you feel when something gets into your eyes. It’s like my eyes are on fire. I cry out, falling back and tripping over my own cloak.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and feel hands gripping my ankles, fingers digging into my flesh. I have to open my eyes. I have to see what’s attacking me. But when I do, all I can see is fire.

  Embers rain down from the trees above me. The underbrush goes up in flames. Everything is so bright. So red. So hot.

  “Callie!” Kristy screams. I can sense her running over. She takes my hand and pulls me to my feet.

  “I can’t see,” I tell her, bringing my free hand up and rubbing my eyes. “Where is it? It’s here, I can feel it.” I hold out my hand, fingers crackling with magical energy. My heart races.

  Then Kristy is knocked backward, falling down hard. Her hand slips from mine. I whirl around, still blinded by the fire, and try to feel for her.

  “Watch out!” she warns right as something grabs my shoulders. Heavy energy comes off of it in waves, and I can feel it trying to get inside my head. It’s searching for something, and I’ll be damned if I let it in and find what it came looking for.

  But then something else comes rushing into the woods, knocking whatever is on top of me off. The fire stops and I blink my eyes open. My vision is still fuzzy, but my head is now clear.

  Lucas stands before me, fangs bared, arms out to the side, ready for a fight. He lets out a growl, staring down the thing that just attacked me. I run over to Kristy, pulling her to her feet. She whacked her head on a tree stump as she fell and is bleeding.

  The ball of white light still floats above us, and little tendrils of magic rain down. They burn Lucas’s flesh when they touch him, just like sunlight would. Yet he ignores it, sidestepping so he puts himself between whatever the hell is after me and myself.

  “I’m okay,” Kristy says, voice shaking. “What the hell is that?”

  “I…I…I think it’s a man.” I inch over, needing to move in order to see around Lucas’s large frame. “And he’s possessed.”

  The man is ragged—physically, that is. His clothes are soiled, and he smells like urine. His jeans are ripped, his nose looks like it’s been broken, and dried, crusted blood covers his face and chest. One of his arms is twisted at an unnatural angle. And his eyes are bloodshot.

  “Speak, demon,” I say through gritted teeth.

  Suddenly, the man drops to the ground, shaking in fear. “What’s happening? Where am I?”

  “You don’t fool me.” I move next to Lucas, who shifts his gaze from the possessed man to me and back again. “What is your name?”

  “Please, help me!”

  “I know you’re possessing that body,” I go on. “Tell me your name.”

  Lucas zooms forward, picking up the man by the collar. “I suggest you listen to the lady.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” the man whimpers.

  “Maybe the demon left,” Kristy suggests quietly.

  “Maybe,” Lucas agrees. “I know a way to find out.”

  Before I can say anything, before I can stop him, he sinks his fangs into the man’s neck. My heart skips a beat and my eyes widen. As fast as he bit him, Lucas pulls away, blood dripping down his face. He drops the man to the ground and turns, spitting out the blood that’s in his mouth.

  “He’s possessed,” he tells us, wiping his mouth with his hand. “His blood is rancid.”

  “You can taste the difference?”

  “Yes.” Lucas spits out more blood. “When a human is possessed, their blood tastes rotten.”

  “Sulfur,” I muse.

  “Yes.” Lucas tips his head, looking down at the man possessed. “Want me to kill him for you?”

  “Not yet,” I say and Kristy tenses. Even if I had the power to exorcise this demon, I’m not sure the human will survive it. He looks like he’s been hit by a car, and, judging by the stench of human waste coming from his body, the demon’s had a hold of him for a week at least. Most humans won’t survive a full-body possession like this for more than two or three days.

  I pull the ball of light down from above us and bring it close to the demon’s chest. White light like this burns demons. Enough of it will kill one…and the body they’ve possessed.

  But there are always casualties in warfare.

  “Tell me your name, demon,” I demand.


  “You are not worthy to speak my name, unclean witch!” the demon growls back. White foam starts to drip from its mouth. It’s not the man I saw in the vision, I’m sure of it. I press the energy ball into his chest. It sizzles, burning up the demonic powers that have taken possession of the body.

  “What do you want with me?” I don’t give him time to answer before pushing the light in farther. He cries out in pain, writhing on the ground before us. Lucas draws closer, a low growl coming from deep inside his throat. The demon is moments away from death.

  I wait a beat, and then pull the light back. The body the demon is possessing will give out soon. The man inside should be dead already but instead is stuck watching from the inside out, feeling the physical pain and living through every single horrible thing the demon has forced his body to do.

  “Can you hold him spellbound?” I ask Lucas. “Try to get into his mind and make him talk?”

  “I can try. There might not be much of his mind left.” Lucas kneels down, leaning dangerously close to the ball of pure magical energy. He looks deep into the man’s eyes, compelling him to obey whatever he says. A moment passes and I think it’s not working. Then Lucas asks, “What is your name?”

  The man opens his mouth, more frothy saliva dripping down his jaw.

  “Why did you attack Callie?”

  A gargled noise comes from the man’s throat. He twitches, trying to break the hold Lucas has on him. “Gate…gate…”

  “Gate?” I repeat, looking at Kristy. She shakes her head, not knowing what that means either.

  “Keep talking,” Lucas commands.

  “Gate…gate…keep…gatekeeper,” he finally spits out. Then he closes his eyes, and Lucas loses his hold on the man. Instead of attacking or trying to get away, the man lurches forward, pushing the energy ball into his chest. His entire body sizzles, and the smell of charred flesh fills the air. Light glows from his eyes, and then his body goes limp. The light slowly fades, and we’re all left standing around his body, more than a little stunned.