by D. N. Hoxa
A visible shiver washed down her back. “You brought her here?” she asked with half a voice.
“I brought her ashes here. This is where they belong.”
The urn was definitely better off at Amelia’s house than in my pathetic excuse of an office. She could take better care of it, too. To be honest, I never knew what to expect in Manhattan. Someday, people might come in looking for more trouble than just to make fun of me, and shit could hit the fan pretty quickly. I didn’t want my mother’s ashes to be exposed to that kind of danger.
“I don’t…I didn’t…” Amelia started, but her voice trailed off.
Call me a bitch, but I was glad to see that she was at least feeling bad about having left me alone. My mother was her sister, no matter what had happened between them.
I took the red urn from my bag and put it on the table. Amelia’s eyes filled with tears as she looked at it. Her hands shook as she held her mug, trying to pretend like she wasn’t bothered by it.
“You’ll take better care of this.” I pushed the urn toward her. I was pretty sure she would start crying, but she surprised me by standing up instead.
“I’ll be right back,” she whispered, and with the urn in her arms, she disappeared from the kitchen.
Maybe it had been a mistake to bring my mother’s ashes there. Maybe I should have stuck with that urn because now that I wasn’t in the same room with it, I felt a bit empty. Like I was missing something.
Five minutes later, Amelia came back, eyes rimmed red and cheeks wet.
“Are you okay?” She looked pale, and her hands were slightly shaking, too.
Amelia pressed her lips into a smile. “Let’s have some breakfast.”
I wanted to ask her to talk to me. For the past two months, she had avoided talking about my mother at all costs. Sadly, I didn’t know her well enough to convince her that it would benefit the both of us if we shared our memories. I wanted to know about my mother before she had me. I wanted to know what she was like as a kid. What my grandparents were like.
But she would never tell me if I asked her that.
So I asked something else.
“Tell me about the Bone coven,” I said when we finally sat down to eat, eggs and bacon on our plates, and that delicious tea she made in our cups.
Amelia raised a brow in confusion. “What do you mean?”
I shrugged. “I want to know more about Bone witches. About the coven and why it broke apart.”
“That’s a sad story,” she whispered. “You’re better off not knowing.”
“Come on, Aunt Amelia. I’m a Bone witch, too. I deserve to know what happened.” And since the Waynes had always been part of the coven leadership, this was just another way to find out more about my family.
She thought about it for a long time, her eyes moving back and forth from my face to her plate. I kept my mouth shut because I was afraid I might say something wrong.
Eventually, she spoke.
“Our coven operated well, same as the Blood or Green one,” she started. “It took care of its witches and made sure we stayed out of trouble, too. Five bloodlines led the Bone coven for centuries. Until my mother.”
The question was at the tip of my tongue. I wanted to know every single detail, but I bit my lip and let Amelia set the pace. This was already more than anything she’d told me in two months.
“The Bone coven is led by females. That’s not to say there haven’t been any males in the leadership ever, but most of the time, it’s women, and your grandmother was one of the five leaders of her generation. When Adeline got pregnant with you and decided to leave the coven, things started to change.”
Amelia paused as if she was letting those words sink in. They did, and the next second, there it was. Guilt. As bright as the sun, rising over my heart.
“The other leaders began to question my mother. The whole coven began to question her. If she couldn’t convince her own daughter to do the ‘right thing’, how could she be expected to lead a coven of thousands?” Amelia laughed dryly. “Over the years, it only got worse. Her word stopped having any weight. People no longer respected her the way she deserved to be respected. She also knew that there would be no one to take over her seat once she was gone. Adeline was gone, and I never wanted to be part of the witches that made my mother the saddest person I’d ever seen. So, in the end, she resigned.”
My aunt’s eyes were filled with tears. She pulled her lips inside her mouth to keep from crying for a moment before she continued.
“That’s when things really started to go bad. A seat was open at the leadership table, and everybody wanted it. Every single Bone family. They began a nasty show of strength, of leadership skills, and for a few months, the four leaders just watched. They wouldn’t come to a decision because they didn’t think anyone except the Waynes was good enough to share their power with them. They tried to get Adeline back, too, and when that didn’t work, they tried to bribe me.” She smiled sadly, shaking her head. “The rest of the witches didn’t take it very well. It is our law that when someone voluntarily leaves the leadership, all other families are to be considered as equal competitors. A year passed before the first murder occurred.”
“Wait, murder?” I hadn’t heard anything about a murder. Nobody that I knew had—not even Finn.
“Murder,” Amelia said, nodding. “Jessica Davis, the first daughter of Joseph Davis—one of the coven leaders—was kidnapped one morning in her own apartment. About a month later, she was found dead right outside of Bloomsburg.”
My stomach dropped. “Shit. Why have I heard nothing of this before?”
“Because you were not part of the coven, honey,” Amelia said. “Bones are very secretive. We mostly keep to ourselves and sharing what happens inside our coven is prohibited by law. Well, was prohibited.”
“So who did it?”
Amelia shook her head. “Nobody knows. We were never able to find out. The same thing happened with Amanda Reigns, daughter of Catrina Reigns. She was taken from her mother’s home, then left dead in the same place some time later. And with Arthur White, son of Monica Raymond. And the last one, Melanie Rivera, daughter of Alice Rivera. They were all between the ages of eighteen and twenty-six.”
The tips of my fingers were already numb. So much death. And those witches had been so young!
“Every Bone witch in the coven was a suspect. Investigations went on for months and months until finally the remaining leaders decided that the lives of their living children were more important than anything else. So they broke the coven apart.”
I stood up from the table and walked over to the nearest window. Nausea hit me hard, and the kitchen kept spinning in front of my eyes. The weight of the world settled on my shoulders. I was responsible for this. Everything that had happened began with me.
“It’s all my fault.” I watched my breath steam the window in front of me, trying but failing to focus all my being in it so that I wouldn’t have to think about the guilt, even for a moment.
“It isn’t,” Amelia said. She was already putting the dishes away though neither of us had eaten a thing.
“Yes, it is. If it wasn’t for me, my mother would have never left home. Your mother would have never left the coven leadership. All those people…” God, what the hell was I going to do with all of this information? Amelia had been right. I had been much better off not knowing.
“Stop it, Winter. This isn’t something that happened for one reason. It’s much more complicated than that.”
“But it isn’t.” It sounded pretty damn simple to me.
“We all do what we think is best for the people we love,” Amelia said, her voice full of sadness.
“That doesn’t mean it’s not my fault.” Tears in my eyes. I wanted to stop them from spilling, but I was too distracted.
“If it’s your fault, then it’s your mother’s fault, too. And it’s my mother’s fault as well. She could have stood her ground, put everyone in their place and clai
med back the respect. And it’s the other leaders’ fault, too. They weren’t strong enough to endure.”
“But they—” Amelia cut me off.
“They are nothing but goddamn hypocrites!”
Oh. I turned around, eyes wide with surprise. I’d never heard her curse like that. Not ever. She didn’t look like a person to say damn, but right now, as she held herself on the counter by the elbows, her head down and hands shaking, she looked damn dangerous.
“They judged my sister when she gave it all up for you. They judged my mother when she gave it all up for her daughter. Then, they went and did the same goddamn thing. As soon as it was their kids on the line, they tore apart an entire coven. So don’t tell me anything about them.”
A breath of cold air slipped into my lungs. My vision cleared a bit. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so heavy anymore. I didn’t feel so alone. Amelia was right. Maybe, just maybe, this whole thing wasn’t entirely my fault.
“So that was it? The bad guy was never caught?”
“No,” Amelia whispered, shaking her head. “After the official investigation ended, they still searched for years, but there was no clue. It’s why our coven is still torn completely apart. Why we barely even speak to one another. Our own friends, the people we grew up with.”
“But are you sure that someone from the coven did it? Because that could narrow down the search.”
Amelia met my eyes. “Nobody is sure of anything, but who else had reason to attack and kill those kids? And the search isn’t narrowed. Not at all, because every Bone family was after that seat. Without exception. And there was no proof.”
“There is always proof!” I cried. I’d worked long enough for Finn to know that there was always proof when you wanted to find it. A dead body said more than a living one, sometimes.
“Not in this case. Those witches were killed by blasts of magic. Blasts, Winter.” The blood in my veins froze. “Do you have any idea how much dark power that requires? Not only that, but that sort of thing leaves no trace behind. Nothing that can be tracked.”
My eyes squeezed shut before I could control them. Ralph Martinez’s face rushed into my mind. Shit, shit, shit.
“What’s wrong?” Amelia said, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak. “Winter, what’s wrong?”
She was in front of me, hands on my shoulders, shaking me until I opened my eyes again. Amelia looked concerned, worse than concerned.
“I killed a werewolf,” I whispered, the words sour on my tongue.
“You killed a lot of werewolves,” she reminded me.
“No, no, I mean I killed Ralph Martinez.” I could hardly breathe. How had this never occurred to me before?
“Winter, I don’t know what that means,” Amelia said. Now, I was scaring her, too.
“I killed Ralph Martinez with a blast of magic.”
My aunt let go of me and stepped back. “No, you didn’t.”
“I did. Fucking hell, I did.” I remembered it clearly. He’d tried to cut through my shield with his huge claws. When he finally broke it with his head, I’d tried to chant a spell. Any spell. I thought I’d gotten it right, but now that Amelia mentioned it, I hadn’t. Because my magic had been visual that day. I’d seen it. The bright orange color that spilled from my hands wasn’t there when I spelled Julian in the garden. It wasn’t there when I did Jordan’s Curse. No light left my hands then.
Except when I attacked Ralph Martinez.
“You’re confused,” Amelia said. “You probably used a spell.”
“It wasn’t a spell.”
“Yes, it was. You just don’t remember it.” Her voice sounded like a pleading.
“Aunt Amelia, I do remember. It was light. Fire left my fingers. I saw it as clearly as I’m seeing you. That didn’t happen with my other spells, did it? You saw me do one yourself!”
Amelia shook her head, looking down at the floor, even paler than before. Her whole body shook, just like mine. Dark magic. I’d done dark magic, and I hadn’t even realized it.
“Who else knows?” she whispered after a while, breathing heavily.
“No one.”
She looked at me like one looked at criminals. “Then let’s keep it that way.”
“I’m never going to do it again,” I said, my voice breaking. “Not ever.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, Amelia sighed. “I know.”
“No, I mean it. It was an accident. I had no idea what I was doing.”
“Winter, I know.”
But she didn’t. She still looked at me that way. Like she didn’t even trust me anymore. How the hell was I supposed to accept that?
“It was right after the ritual. Literally minutes after it. I thought I was conjuring a spell but…but the light…” God, what the hell had I done?
“Stop explaining,” Amelia said. “I need you to think with your head clear for a second.”
“About what?” She no longer looked at me. She looked out the window behind me, eyes distant. Something was brewing in her head.
“The murders,” she whispered. “There hasn’t been a single dark magic practitioner in the Bone coven for centuries. What if whoever killed those kids wasn’t a witch? What if…” Her eyes found mine again.
“What if they were like me,” I finished for her.
“Exactly.”
I shook my head. “I’ve never heard of a half fairy, half witch before.”
“But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. You have enough power to alter your appearance, don’t you? It’s another thing completely that you won’t. You can.”
Damn it, she had a point. “But how would one even know? You said it yourself, blasts of magic leave no trace behind. Maybe there’s a Bone witch out there, stronger than everyone else. You also said that you are pretty secretive witches.” If this were the case, the witch could just keep to themselves about it, just like I had wanted to before I’d come to my senses.
“Could be.” Amelia sighed loudly. “Guess we’ll never find out.”
“With this new information—” I started, but she cut me off.
“No. A decade has passed since that happened. Nobody believes anybody around here anymore. We’re not going to bring trouble at the door with nothing but theories, and since we can have no proof, this discussion is over.”
“But what if we can help?”
“What if everybody finds out about you?”
My mouth clamped shut. If the world found out about my magic, then I was in deep shit. I’d lied my way out of getting killed once. I didn’t think I could do it again.
“You’re right,” I whispered, feeling completely useless and extremely guilty. “But are you sure that that’s dark magic?”
“There’s no definition of dark magic,” Amelia said. “But a blast of magic, raw and unshaped, able to kill someone with a single blow without leaving anything behind? It’s definitely not light.”
I bit my lip, feeling smaller by the second. Maybe I should have just stayed in the fairy realm with Julian. That way, I wouldn’t have even known any of this now.
Before I could say anything else, the phone in my pocket vibrated. Too desperate to even look at the screen, I just picked it up, somewhat thankful for the distraction.
“Wayne,” I said, my voice thick and scratchy.
“Winny, dear, It’s Zara Riley, your landlady.” Someone, kill me now.
“Yes, Ms. Riley,” I said with a sigh. I should have just checked the goddamn screen.
“There’s a man here asking for you,” she said. “He says it’s very important and that he needs to speak to you immediately. I told him that you weren’t here, but he insisted I give you a call.”
Rolling my eyes, I held myself from cursing. I’d been forced to erase the number on the office door because people kept calling me, thinking they were being funny. Now, they were trying to get to me through my landlady. Real nice.
“Tell him to come back tomorrow,” I mumbled.
“I already did, bu
t he says he has to speak to you today.”
Closing the microphone of the phone with the palm of my hand, I cursed loudly, then cleared my throat. “Then tell him I’ll be back in the evening. If he can’t wait, too bad. Bye, Ms. Riley.”
“But, Winny—” I hung up the phone. Whoever wanted to piss me off today, they had to wait in line.
“Who was it?” Amelia asked.
“My landlady. Someone’s looking for me at the office. Probably someone who wants to make fun of me.” As if people had nothing better to do on their Sundays.
“You should go check it out. It could be a real customer,” Amelia said.
“Of course not. If they’d been serious, they wouldn’t have come on a Sunday.”
“Winter, I really think you should go check it out. We both need some time to think.” Ah. There it was. Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse. My own aunt was kicking me out.
“Aunt Amelia, he was going to kill me if I didn’t stop him first.” And Ralph wasn’t going to ask any questions.
“I know, honey. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I just need to be on my own right now. Call you tomorrow?”
At least I managed to keep those damn tears from spilling until I got into my car. It was bad enough that I’d ruined the brand new relationship I’d worked so hard to build with my aunt. Now, I had to go and deal with whatever asshole thought that making fun of poor ole Winter Wayne was the perfect way to spend a Sunday.
Three
By the time I made it to the office in the slowest car in Manhattan, I was hungry, angry and a bit desperate. Not the best of combinations. I sank my fingernails into my palms crossing the street because I did not want to pick a fight with whoever was waiting for me—if they were even still there. It was bad enough as it was. Nobody wanted to work with me. But if I beat the crap out of somebody, too? The story would go on for months. I would never see the end of it. So it was very important to keep my calm and let this, too, pass.
Ms. Riley was in my office. I could see the back of her head, her grey hair tied into a perfect bun, through the window. With a loud sigh, I opened the door and braced myself.