Witch's Storm (The Bone Coven Chronicles Book 2)

by Jenna Wolfhart

  I waited until she pulled her car to a stop in front of the blood mage’s apartment building, parked, and cut the engine. Slowly, she turned to face me, apprehension coating her face.

  My face went hot, and my blood ran cold, two sensations that were completely at odds with each other, but it was how I’d felt about my shadow magic from day one. Half amazed, half terrified. And mostly scared as hell of what people would think. Shadow mages dealt in dark magic, the kind that rotted souls. The kind of magic that could twist a mage’s head and make them kill. Because that was what it had done with me.

  “What is it, Zoe?” she asked in a whisper. “You’re scaring me.”

  “I’ve been lying to you,” I said in a tight voice. “And I am so, so sorry. I’m not a member of the Bone Coven. Not really. My true mark is hidden underneath an illusion that a fae cast for me. The truth is, I have shadow magic running through my veins. I’m so sorry I never told you.”

  Laura blinked at me, her mouth open in shock. Slowly, she reached out and pushed down the top of my shirt to reveal the mark on my collarbone. My skin held the illusion of a bone mark, but the shadow lay hidden underneath. She stared hard at the tattoo before her eyes flipped up to meet mine. “Your mark. That’s why it’s so faint.”

  I nodded. “Please don’t hate me.”

  “Oh, Zoe.” With a heavy sigh, she dropped my shirt and pressed her hands against the steering wheel. She shook her head, shoulders slumping with every breath she took. “I could never hate you. I always wondered what was up with your powers, but I didn’t want to ask. I wish you would have told me. You know I love you more than anyone else in the world.”

  Pain flickered through my heart. “I was scared you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. That magic is dangerous. Shadow mages are banished, exiled. They’ve even been executed in the past. I didn’t want to lose you. Hell, I don’t want to lose you now, either, but I just can’t keep it hidden anymore.”

  “You can’t lose me, Zoe.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me into a hug, whispering into my hair. “Shadow magic might be dangerous, but you’re not. I trust you with my life and always have.”

  Relief poured through me at her words, along with a heavy dose of guilt. I should have told her earlier. I should have stopped lying months ago. But fear does funny things to people, and even I’m not immune to that.

  She pulled back and searched my eyes. “Besides, it’s not like you’re actually using it, are you?”

  “Of course not,” I said. “If it was up to Dorian, I would be, but I’m not.”

  Realization dawned in her eyes. “So, that’s the thing he wants you to do. Well, he’ll just have to get over it. You can’t delve into dark magic. It could destroy you. If he brings it up again, I’ve got your back.”

  Laura and I sat there for the next half hour talking through my powers and exactly what had happened when I’d killed Vincent. It felt good to get it out, almost like a purge of pent-up thoughts and feelings that had almost boiled over into a bloody mess. A happy, content feeling began to build in my chest. Relief. Freedom. Hope. That is, until Dorian Kostas knocked on the car window and scowled.

  “What the hell are you two doing?” he snapped when I rolled down the window. “I’ve been waiting in the lobby for the past half hour. I assumed I’d see you pull up front when you got here but only now realized why I hadn’t. You were sitting out here in your fucking car.”

  “Laura and I were just having a chat,” I said, glancing at her with a smile. “Decided it was about damn time to tell her about my powers.”

  “Great. The one time you decide to listen to me, you do so in the middle of an investigation.” He scowled and yanked the door open. “You’ll have to continue your little bonding session some other time. We have a death to solve, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I think the scale has finally hit ten, Laura,” I said as I climbed out of the car.

  She stifled a laugh as she followed. “No joke.”

  Dorian narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t comment. And I decided not to prod him even more. The truth was, his grumpiness had really simmered down over the past few months we’d been working together. We’d actually started to get along, cracking jokes and forming an easy comfortable companionship. There’d still been a charged tension hanging in the air, but that was only because I couldn’t forget the intimate moments we’d shared before we became official partners.

  And nothing like that had happened since.

  Though I had, at times, wondered what it would be like…

  The three of us entered the building and climbed the stairs to the top floor where Sylvia Anderson had lived. The door was cracked, like someone had rushed to leave at a moment’s notice, forgetting to lock it behind them when they did. Dorian pushed it open, and a loud creak echoed down the hallway.

  “Clear,” Dorian said, striding into the small and quiet space. Laura and I followed close behind.

  Sylvia had lived in a small studio apartment shaped like an L, a single bed squashed into the shorter section. A small kitchenette hung to the right, next to a door leading into a bathroom. In the center of the room, she’d placed a couch and a television. Everything was clean. Everything was tidy. Nothing to suggest any violence.

  I moved into the bathroom and noted the open makeup containers and the brushes left sitting on the edge of the sink. “She was definitely getting dolled up for a night out. Think she was meeting someone?”

  Laura popped her head into the bathroom. “You mean, like a date?”

  “Would you go to this much effort to go have a drink by yourself?” I asked, waving at the dozen or so makeup cases.

  “There’s a couple of dresses laid out on her bed, and an open jewellery box,” Dorian called from across the apartment. Laura and I trailed over to his side where he stood gazing down at the little black dresses, the rings and necklaces, and the shoes Sylvia must have been considering for her evening. Something about seeing all of her belongings spread out like this sent a jolt of pain through my heart. This girl was just like any other girl, getting ready for a fun night out in Boston. And she’d ended up dead in an alley behind Blue Moon Tavern instead.

  “Shit,” I said, turning away as the tears pricked my eyes. “This is rough.”

  A cool breeze caressed my skin, and I turned toward the sensation, finding a curtain fluttering across a window. An open window. Frowning, I took a closer look, gasping when I noticed five deep grooves etched into the wood.

  “Guys,” I said, holding up a hand to motion my partners closer. “You might want to see this.”

  Dorian strode up behind me and looked over my shoulder. I was intimately aware of how close he was, the musky scent of him filling my nose. His face still held the same scowl it had before, but a spark of appreciation lit his eyes as he let out a low whistle. “Good find.”

  Warmth coated my stomach.

  “What is that?” Laura asked, scooting in closer.

  “Claw marks,” Dorian said. “Ones that look pretty similar to the ones on her neck.”

  Laura shivered as she reached out to trace her fingertip along the ridges. “So, whatever killed Sylvia Anderson was here in her apartment, too. But what was it?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But it looks like it climbed through her window.”

  “In that case, maybe Sylvia Anderson didn’t end up going out,” Laura said. “Maybe whatever killed her got to her here first.”

  Chapter 6

  After taking another sweep through the studio, we went door-to-door in Sylvia’s building and interviewed any and all potential witnesses. Unfortunately for us, we came up pretty empty. Sylvia Anderson was a quiet neighbor who mostly kept to herself. No one had heard or seen anything strange the night of the murder or in the weeks leading up to it. Despite our best efforts, our only lead was the claw marks on the window, and even that didn’t really help us much.

  As we left the apartment, Dorian grabbed my arm and pull
ed me to the side before I could get into Laura’s car. “Can I talk to you?”

  “I don’t know.” I tried to jerk my arm out of his grasp, but he didn’t budge an inch. One thing I’d learned about Dorian Kostas? He was strong as hell, even for a vampire. Not merely with his physical strength but with his mental as well. He was more stubborn than I was, and that was saying something. He’d been who he was for decades, and he was stuck in his ways because of it. “Are you going to try to force me to use my shadow magic or something? Because I haven’t changed my mind. I’m not going to do it.”

  “I was going to tell you how glad I am that you told Laura the truth, but now you have me rethinking my plan to say anything nice.” He scowled and let go of my arm like it was a burning match. “Honestly, Zoe. Why do you have to turn everything into a fight?”

  “Me?” I raised my eyebrows. “You’re the one pushing things.”

  “I’m only pushing because you’re trying to bury your head in the sand.” His gaze pierced mine, and his eyes burned deep into my soul as the bond between us pulled tight. “Ignoring who you are isn’t the solution.”

  “Might not be the right solution for you, but it’s the one for me.” With my jaw clenched, I turned away. As much as I wanted to stand there and stare into his eyes forever, I couldn’t. Not when he wanted me to lose myself in powers I never wanted to touch again. “Now, can I go?”

  “Fine.” He held up his hands and stepped back. “Go with Laura. But I expect you to come to our training session tonight after you get off work. We need to put this argument behind us and make some headway on this case.”

  I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure we would be able to get past this, not when neither one of us would ever back down.

  Blue Moon Tavern was dead. Word had spread through the community—both supernatural and university—about the dead body in the alley, and the phone had been ringing off the hook ever since. It felt like all of Boston wanted to know if it was true, despite the police reports that said otherwise. No one wanted to actually step foot in the place to see for themselves. Except for Anastasia, of course. She sat there on the bar stool, sipping a rum and coke, the only customer in the whole damn place.

  “Where the hell is everyone?” I asked.

  “Turns out a dead body is bad for business.” Laura sighed and slouched against the bar top. Not even a single drink sat on top of the worn surface, a first for Blue Moon Tavern. Even on a quiet night, back before word got out about the two witches who worked here, there’d always been a cluster of regulars who would pop by.

  Tonight, not a single human soul had walked through the door.

  “This is bad,” I said, glancing at the empty tip jar. While the Enforcer salary was enough to cover rent, I needed the extra income from the bar to cover all the other bills. Boston wasn’t exactly a cheap place to live. “Rent is coming up next week, and I was counting on tips to help cover it.”

  “We’ll figure something out,” Laura said.

  Overhead, another howl split through the night, and I closed my eyes against the sound. “Right. There’s no reason for both of us to be here. I’m going to go train with Dorian before I take care of Juno’s demon problem. Maybe if I convince her the demon isn’t real, she’ll get that dog to stop howling. Feel free to close up shop when you see fit. And Anastasia? Don’t you dare fuck with my friend.”

  Dorian’s basement apartment was warded tight against everyone except for me. Because the magic worked better than locks, he kept the place open at all times in case I ever needed somewhere to hide. And tonight, it meant I slipped inside unnoticed. He sat in his desk chair, leaning back with his eyes closed, shadows playing across his strong jaw. Even like this, Dorian had a presence about him, strong and powerful. Invincible.

  “You’re early,” he said without opening his eyes. “To be honest, I wasn’t even sure you’d show tonight.”

  “The bar was empty. No one wants to go drinking where someone allegedly got murdered.” I moved to his side, perching on the edge of his desk. All across the surface, books and papers fought for space, and a worn leather journal caught my eye. Was that Dorian’s? If so, what had he scrawled across the lines to put him in such a thoughtful trance? I reached for the book, but his hand shot out to stop me.

  “That’s not for your eyes.” He sat up and closed the book, slipping it into the bottom drawer of his desk. “Are the cops not convinced by the prank story?”

  “They were. Bought it hook, line, and sinker,” I said. “But you know how rumors are. Hard to cut off the head of a snake when it keeps growing back even bigger and badder. To be honest with you, I’m a little worried. We can’t afford to lose the money.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine once things die down.” He stood and stretched, and my gaze caught on the hard planes of his stomach. Swallowing hard, I tried to pull my eyes away, but it was as if they’d been glued to his abs.

  Dorian grabbed his dagger and twirled it in his fingers. “So, what would you like to work on today? A bone spell or some physical combat?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What happened to your insistence on practicing shadow magic?”

  “I think it’s a waste of time to work on that when you’re resisting it so much,” he said. “So, we’ll focus on something else until you’re ready.”

  “I’m never going to be ready, Dorian,” I said, repeating the words I’d said at least a dozen times. “It scares me, Dorian. You know I don't want to give into that side of me.”

  “I know, and I appreciate that,” he said. “But there are going to be times when we're up against something that you can't handle without it. Better safe than sorry.”

  Better safe than sorry. His words echoed in my ears. Little did he know that they meant the opposite to me than they did to him. In my world, better safe than sorry meant never using my shadow magic. For anything. Doing so brought out the worst in me, causing dangerous thoughts and feelings to flicker inside my soul. The last time I’d given into my magic, I’d killed a warlock. Granted, he’d been murdering people and trying to destroy the veil as we know it, but still. I wasn’t a killer, and I never wanted to come close to doing anything like that ever again.

  That meant not using my magic. Because every time I did, it invited the darkness inside of me to rise up like a snake about to strike.

  Dorian must have seen the look on my face because he tucked his finger underneath my chin, his face softening. “Don’t look so worried. You’re in control of your magic. Not the other way around, remember?”

  Easy for you to say, I thought, though deep down I knew that wasn’t the case at all. Dorian knew what it felt like to wrestle with the demons within rather than the demons without. I couldn’t imagine how hard it was for him to stay in control of his cravings. The animal blood bags he used for food could never fully satisfy him, but he refused to ever feed on anything more.

  “Besides, as Enforcers, sometimes we have to do the difficult thing,” Dorian continued. “He was destroying the veil. He had demons bound to him, following his every command. Did it ever occur to you that killing Vincent was the right thing to do?”

  “Maybe it was.” I shrugged. “Maybe it wasn’t. The problem is that it wasn’t my choice. I didn’t decide to kill him. My shadow magic did.”

  “The thing is, Zoe.” Dorian stepped close and wrapped a hand around the back of my neck. His thumb swept circles along the fake mark on my collarbone, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my core. “If anyone can master that kind of magic, it’s you. But I won’t push you anymore. When you decide you’re ready, just let me know.”

  With that, he pulled away and left me reeling with a need I didn’t know I had. A need to feel his cool hand on my skin. A need to feel his embrace once again. My head was dizzy, and my throat felt raw. Hell, I wasn’t entirely sure I could even breathe.

  But Dorian didn’t give me a chance to test my lungs. He whipped out his dagger and began moving with a frightening speed. All I could do
was react, letting all these months of training take over my body. I blocked his attack and responded with one of my own, my leg kicking out at his knee. We went on like that for an hour, and by the end of our session, sweat coated every inch of me but not for the reason I really wanted.

  “Again?” Dorian asked after I’d taken a long gulp of water.

  “Not tonight,” I said, glancing at my watch. Juno would be heading to her shop to meet me right about now, and I couldn’t let her down. “I have somewhere I need to be.”

  “Where are you going?” Dorian asked with a frown. “It’s midnight.”

  I took another swig of water to give me time to think. A few months ago, I would have made up an excuse, a lie to hide the reality of my life. Because I knew how Dorian would react when he found out where I was headed. He’d think two things. One: that I was back to my old ways, conning an innocent human for a wad of cash. Two: that this was far too dangerous, in the off-chance the demon was real.

  But I was done lying to Dorian, to my grandmother, and to Laura. Sometimes the truth was scary to spit out, but it was far past time to stop being a fucking coward.

  “Don’t freak out,” I said, holding up my hands.

  His lips quirked. “When you say something like that, it doesn’t exactly inspire a lot of confidence, Zoe.”

  “Well, just hear me out before you go conjuring up worst case scenarios here. The girl who lives above the bar asked me to look into a potential demon situation where she works. She said there’s been a couple of attacks. No one has died, but a man got sent to the hospital.”

  Dorian’s face clouded over. With a harsh laugh, he shook his head and backed away from me, his lips twisted into a scowl. “I can’t believe it. The second you smell money trouble, and you’re off conning people again. You couldn’t even wait to see how this thing shakes out? Just because you had one bad night at the bar doesn’t mean that everything is going to go belly up. Not to mention the fact you still have your Enforcer salary.”