Crown of Blood

by D G Swank

  Crown of Blood

  Book of Sindal Book Three

  D.G. Swank

  Alessandra Thomas

  Copyright © 2019 by Denise Grover Swank

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Epilogue

  Also by D.G. Swank

  About the Author

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  “The witch is not to be trusted.”

  The eight men who had gathered in a dirty, musty room all studied me as though I were a dangerous beast, ready to pounce on them at any moment. I didn’t object to the mage’s assessment. For one thing, he was right, and for another, my silence was making them nervous, which was exactly where I wanted them.

  The Dark Set needed me, but they were uncertain of my loyalty.

  A small smile lifted the corners of my lips. They had good reason to be uncertain.

  “Celeste has the orb,” said Peter Savage, an older mage with a full head of gray hair. He was one of the most powerful glamour mages alive. “But we’ve lost the book. We. Need. That. Book. To finish what we started.” I was also fascinated by the glamour he’d cast over himself in an effort to look at least twenty years younger. How old was he? Seventy? Eighty? Underneath the glamour, his thinning hair was snow white. His face was tired and wrinkled, his heavy jowls sagging, but I could see through it all, even if no one else could.

  No one could hide from me.

  “We don’t need the book,” I said, my voice light and airy. Men didn’t like to take women seriously if they sounded dainty, but the blue glow emanating from my outstretched palm seemed to make an impression all its own. “You have me.”

  And I, Celeste Whelan, expression witch and one-third keeper of the Book of Sindal, was currently the most powerful being in the room, possibly the world. Most magical specialties required a source—while my sister Phoebe needed to be close to the bones of our ancestors to use her ancestral magic, my eldest sister, Rowan, couldn’t change the nature of an object or being—she could only change others’ perception of it. I, on the other hand, could quite literally create something out of nothing. But the power demanded to be used, and it had started slipping out. Each day was a new battle. Eventually, the magic would completely consume me. Or everyone around me.

  But that was a worry for another day.

  The mages studied me in silence, trying to figure out what to do. I was a wrench in the Dark Set’s plans. Especially since their main objective was to steal control of the magical community from the witches. What were they to do with such a powerful female ally?

  I barely contained the giggle of glee rising in my throat.

  Finally, Donall leveled his gaze on me. “Surely you must realize that there is much more to the book than the power orb, Celeste. The orb is only one spell of hundreds. Maybe thousands. We need to find your sisters and take it back.” He paused. “Can you feel their presence now?”

  Most people in the magical community believed the Book of Sindal was mythical, but it was very real, and my family had protected it for centuries. The magic it contained was both powerful and dangerous, which was why Donall had manipulated me (or so he thought) to get his hands on it.

  He’d reached out to me online, pretending he was a friend, and offered to help tame my magic. His proposed solution was, of course, to use the Book of Sindal. He’d encouraged me to feed the book my sisters’ blood while they slept, the sacrifice required to open it. I’d already known how to open it. I’d also known that it did not contain the secret to controlling my power, but I’d played along, letting him think me a fool because it suited my purpose. Because my mother had assured me it was part of the gods’ and goddesses’ plan.

  She would have known. In addition to her telekinetic power, she had possessed the temperamental gift of foresight. Something she had concealed from most of the people in her life.

  Yet there were things she hadn’t foreseen. Like Donall, I’d wanted the book for myself. I had believed it was my fate to use it to destroy the Dark Set. Except now I wasn’t sure. I’d done everything it had asked of me, and still it had asked for more. Earlier tonight it had asked for the life of Rowan’s new boyfriend, and I’d encouraged her to kill him. An innocent man. A human.

  Frightened of what I might do and what I might become, I’d chosen to leave the book behind with Rowan. Only Donall didn’t need to know all of that.

  “How am I supposed to find my sisters after your friends severed our coven bond, Donall?” I asked patiently, then gave him the sweetest of smiles.

  Irritation filled Donall’s eyes. I felt his power nudge at my mind for what had to be the fiftieth time, but my power blocked this attempt just as it had all the others. “Cutting your coven bond was necessary, Celeste. I couldn’t very well have Rowan communicating with either you or Phoebe, or I never would have gotten as much from her as I did.”

  Our mother had led everyone to believe that my eldest sister’s power was rudimentary and basic, but in truth, Rowan was a powerful witch. Our mother had hidden it by making Rowan put up a shield to conceal her power from everyone—including herself. Then she’d made me erase the memory from Rowan’s mind.

  “You must keep this from everyone, little Celeste,” our mother had said to me after the deed was done. “You must protect your sister.”

  “Protect her from what?” I’d asked between sniffles. I’d been a small child at the time, but I’d known in my childish heart that I’d betrayed my sister.

  “The bad men will want to use her.” Mother had squatted in front of me, wiping tears from my cheeks. “We are doing this to protect her.”

  The burden of the lie had become crushing. I’d watched my sister struggle with feelings of inadequacy, knowing all along that I could make it better.

  I’d kept another secret from my sisters, too, one they’d probably never forgive me for concealing. Our father hadn’t died of a broken heart days after our mother’s fiery car accident. Instead, Xavier Whelan had been spirited away by the very force my mother had trained me to fight against—the Dark Set. Father and I had been reunited a few hours ago, although it was hardly a happy reunion.

  “You didn’t get anything from Rowan, you fool,” my father sneered at Donall. “You ruined everything.”

  “You’re lucky you’re here at all,” Donall sneered back. “After the complete disaster at Radcliffe.”

  Donall and my father had been certain Rowan would be the one to be able to read the book with her g
lamour magic, and while her ability had resurfaced in the end, our father hadn’t convinced her to cooperate with the Dark Set.

  I gave my father a small smile. “I know you would have much preferred Rowan, Father, but perhaps I won’t be so bad.”

  He started to say something then closed his mouth. I’d always known that Rowan was his favorite—he’d made no secret of it—so why did still I crave his love? I was a grown woman of twenty-three, yet I wanted my daddy to love me like I was some preteen girl.

  Get over it, Celeste. You were destined to be alone. Our mother had always made sure that message was pounded into my head.

  Anger and loneliness washed through me in thick waves, and the magic in my head pulsed, begging me to unleash it on the group of misogynist, power-hungry mages. You can kill them all where they sit, a little voice whispered. You can turn their chairs into spikes. Break their necks. Burn them with blue fire.

  Except I wasn’t sure I could take all of them on at once, and even if I could, others would take their places like mushrooms after a rain. No, my magic was going haywire again, trying to take the lead.

  Ironically, the Orb of Power I’d absorbed into my skin hours earlier wasn’t bothering me in the least. Although I could feel its power thrumming just beneath the surface of my right hand, it hadn’t attempted to soak into me. Nor had the orb leeched away any of my power. Some quick experimentation had taught me how to summon it to the surface of my hand or activate its light, but I hadn’t gotten any further in my exploration. I knew it worked—its former owner had used it on my sister Phoebe, whose magic was still contained inside it—but I had to figure out a safe way to experiment.

  My inner struggle didn’t go unnoticed. Peter turned to my father in disgust, seasoned by a tiny hint of fear. “She’s your daughter. Control her.”

  I nearly laughed. Did he really think my father could control me? Did any of them think they could?

  “Did you find a way to read the book?” asked a rich, baritone voice from the shadows.

  My back stiffened. I hadn’t sensed anyone approaching, and I certainly hadn’t felt his magic.

  The raven-haired man emerged from a dark corner of the room. This meeting had been called in a basement conference room of an abandoned church, and shadows abounded, enough so that I had to wonder if it was for dramatic effect. At a little over six feet, this man’s presence seemed to fill the room. At first, I suspected he was another glamour mage—surely the shadows shouldn’t have hidden him that well—but then I felt a hint of his power.

  Interesting. This had to be Zane Chambers, a fellow expression mage. My mother had warned me about him, and I recognized his magic from the Small Council the week before, even if I hadn’t seen him there.

  I certainly would have noticed. His black hair was messy and windswept, a little too long, and his face would have been classically attractive if not for his piercing, electric blue eyes—the shade a little too unnatural to be anything but unsettling. His gaze burned into me as though I were made of glass, and I suddenly felt naked. The thought made my skin flush.

  He walked toward me, coming to a stop directly across the table. A small mage, the crochety old one who’d declared I could not be trusted, was already sitting there, but a small amount of power leaked through Zane’s hand, sending an electrical current toward the man. He leaped from his seat and scurried around the round table, standing behind Donall as if he were a small child clinging to his mother’s skirts.

  I grinned at the thought.

  Zane’s electric blue gaze never left mine as he took the vacated seat.

  I lifted my chin in defiance. He couldn’t see through me, even if he acted like he could.

  “I take it that’s a no,” Zane said, resting his forearm on the table, his gaze never leaving mine. It took me a second to remember his question. He’d asked whether I could read the book. “Go on. What were you saying?”

  My father gave Zane an exasperated glare.

  “I take it your trip was successful?” Peter asked.

  “Sounds like it was more successful than yours,” Zane said, still eyeing me. “Xavier, you brought back your daughter as promised, but you seem to have gotten them confused. This is the wrong one.” His disdain was palpable.

  “Celeste,” my father said, “this is Zane Chambers, master of expression magic. Zane, as you surmised, this is my daughter, Celeste.”

  Zane’s face remained expressionless. “You were wrong about Rowan.”

  “No,” my father said in a gloating tone, “I was right.”

  “Yet Celeste is here, not Rowan.”

  “He couldn’t control her,” Donall said in disgust.

  “Neither could you,” I reminded him sweetly.

  Donall shot me daggers of hate. “Why are you here, Celeste? Why should we trust you?”

  “Why shouldn’t you? I’m here for the same reason I left with you and the book in the first place, Donall. I want to gain control of my power, like you promised. To join the Dark Set.”

  “Why would you join the Dark Set?” Zane asked, his voice cold as his gaze bored into my face.

  “Ever heard of the circle of life?” I asked.

  He gave me a dry look. “Are you calling yourself food?”

  “No,” I answered, unflustered. “Let’s use another analogy… The Valerians have ruled for centuries, but what happens to all great civilizations over the course of time? They fall. Our government has been on the brink of collapse for decades. I wish to be on the winning side when it’s all said and done.”

  Donall’s mouth parted. “You think the Valerian court will fall?”

  I turned to him with a small smile. “Hasn’t it already? The Dark Set controls the Small Council. It’s only a matter of time before you control the Large Council as well, and let’s be honest. We all know the Small Council is the one that counts. The rest is semantics.” I paused to make certain they heard every word in the speech I’d rehearsed in front of a mirror. It had taken me several tries to get the perfect facial expression down. Submissive and eager. “Over the last centuries, the witches have become too greedy and too strict. Taking Powwow magic from already weakened mages decades ago. Refusing to help the mage falsely accused of murdering children back in the eighties. Of course mages would rebel. Of course the Dark Set would take hold again.” I turned to my father. “And of course you became the instigator of the new movement. You pushed Mother hard to use her sway to let you on the Small Council. She refused because she knew.”

  My father didn’t look all that surprised. Nor did he object.

  I turned back to Donall. “No, I’m not as idealistic as the rest of you, but I’m here nonetheless. I’m looking out for me, and I’m smart enough to know which side will win.”

  The room was silent for a long moment before Zane began a slow clap, a smirk on his face. “Good performance. Do you expect us to believe it?”

  My heart started racing, but I lifted my brow as if I were completely unaffected. “Why else would I be here? Why would I have willingly gone with Donall twice?”

  Zane leaned forward. “I don’t know, but I certainly plan to find out.”

  Chapter Two

  “It’s been a long night,” my father said with a sigh. “I suggest we get some rest and address this in the morning.” He stood. “Zane, will you escort Celeste to her quarters?”

  My father wasn’t wrong. We’d arrived at this safehouse after two, so it had to be at least three in the morning. It had been a long night for everyone, especially the mages who’d gone head to head with the Protective Force, led by Donall’s brother, Brandon, who also happened to be my sister Phoebe’s boyfriend.

  Zane stood, looking irritated at the request, but he didn’t argue, simply headed toward the door.

  Rising, I followed him, in equal parts curious and concerned to be so close to the man. He’d been only twenty-two at the time of my mother’s death, but she’d already heard stories of his legendary power. I knew he had to be
even stronger now. Expression magic was quite rare, and it was rarer still for there to be two practitioners in one generation. My mother had been worried the Small Council would attempt to pair us together or, worse, pit us against each other. She wouldn’t have been surprised to find him aligned with the Dark Set. In fact, she’d predicted it.

  I moved next to him now, feeling small next to his six-foot-plus frame, but this close I could get a better feel for his magic. It was cold against my skin, like being pelted with tiny ice balls, while mine was a furnace barely containing a raging inferno.

  Was this the mage my mother had taught me to fear? I barely contained my laughter.

  We walked quickly down a dark, musty-smelling hall, then turned left into another wing. The blue glow shining from my open palm lit our way.

  He’d stayed fairly close, but then he took an abrupt step backward. “Are you purposely trying to burn me with power or are you really that uncontrolled?” he asked bluntly, still following me but at a distance of a few feet.

  “Are you really so weak that you’re overwhelmed by being in the presence of real power?” I asked in a snippy tone.

  A force picked me up and slammed my back against the wall, several feet off the floor. He moved in front of me, looking up as if I were an ant come to ruin his picnic. “You think yourself greater than me?”

  His formal words and tone caught me off guard. Had he been living with Druids? Mother had taught me that some Druid sects used a more formal dialect, but she hadn’t told me Zane was involved with them. I knew she would have if she’d known. The Druids brought their own set of issues to the game.