Trial by Fire (Covencraft Book 1)

by Margarita Gakis

  Doing exactly what he’d been told, Paris realized. Paying and leaving.

  Jade placed the tabloid back on the rack and waited for her things to be rung through. Paris let his power drift closer to her again, slower this time, more carefully, circling her cautiously instead of approaching straight on. He closed his eyes as he tried to focus on her, to get a reading.

  She was bleeding power from every part of her.

  She watched her groceries as they were scanned, a bored look on her face. Then, she handed over her credit card, tapped her fingers against the pin pad of the cash machine and waited for her receipt - seemingly unaffected by the power she’d just flung out at the stranger in line before her and the power she was hemorrhaging as she stood there. As she picked up her bags, her power swirled up around her, almost like it was anxious to leave.

  Paris waited for a moment and followed Jade out of the grocery store, staying far enough behind to not spook her. She started the walk back to her apartment, her grocery bags pulling down on her arms, laden with bananas, coffee cream and some other odds and ends he couldn’t quite see. Even with the bags, she kept a brisk pace, not expending any extra motion other than her determined forward walk.

  She halted suddenly and turned around. Paris spat out the quickest spell he could think of, an obfuscation spell, one he hadn’t used since he was nine when he tried to sneak by his mother with a bag of cookies. The spell hadn’t worked on his mother - his spells rarely did work on her - but it seemed to work on Jade. She stared intently at the space where he stood, but not directly at him. Most people would stop, look and then move on. But she was doggedly determined, staring at him for long enough that he thought she certainly must see him. Surprisingly, none of her magic appeared to slink out of her toward him. It darted all around her, like confused and abstract fireworks - jarring and unfocused - but nothing came close to him. It was chaotic, distracted. It reminded him of watching a hungry child find a buffet of treats - all excitable energy and frenzy but no intelligence about it.

  Jade finally turned and started walking again, her first few steps slow and reluctant but then speeding up and returning to her normal pace. He breathed out slowly, waited a moment longer and followed. Jade’s power jumped around as she walked, darting into corners, pulling ahead of her, reaching behind her. At one point, it came dangerously close to him, and he wondered if he would have to use another spell. He carefully pulled his own circle of energy back, folding it closer to himself than he usually kept it. Her power danced around, like it was looking for him, and then curled back toward her. He realized that was probably how she sensed him before. He hadn’t felt it, but her power must have brushed up against his, and somehow she had known.

  A car backfired, and although she gave no outward notice, she must have been startled. He saw her power jump out of her, a dark indigo flash, and the streetlight above her exploded. She stopped and glared up at the streetlight as glass and sparks showered down a few feet in front of her. Jade set her jaw tightly as she looked at the damage murderously. She shook her head sharply and continued walking. Like a distracted puppy, her power skipped along in front of her, unconcerned and oblivious.

  *

  Jade shouldered open her door and then dumped the grocery bags on the counter with a huff.

  Days without incident: 0.

  She knew, she knew, that light bulb exploding had been her doing. She’d almost felt it break in her hands - sharp, loud and crisp. On the way back from the grocery store, she’d felt on edge, like she was being watched. So much so that she had stopped and looked. She wasn’t a shrinking violet. She knew the best way to defend herself was to be alert and assertive, so she had turned around to face whoever was behind her.

  There’d been nothing there.

  No. Not exactly nothing. There’d been no one there, but she still felt something. She just didn’t know what it was.

  So, yeah, she’d been uneasy - like a skittish cat in a loud room. If she’d had claws, they would have been out.

  When a car backfired, Jade almost felt a part of her leap out and find the first thing it could easily break: a street lamp’s bulb. As pieces showered down, she felt relieved, like something in her had been released. Then she felt angry and resentful because she knew she’d done it but she didn’t know how.

  Jade unpacked her groceries and put them away quickly, giving the fridge door a hip-check to shut it when she was done. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the books she had on witches, Wicca and brain function - she felt resentful of them suddenly, like they were somehow to blame for her predicament.

  Oh no.

  The pile of books gave a loud crack and then flames shot up from the covers. She cursed loudly and leapt toward her sink, turning the tap full on and grabbing a saucepan from the stove. It seemed to take forever to fill with water but, once done, she sprang over to her pile of books, aflame and charring her coffee table, and dumped water on the whole stack.

  The fire snapped, hissed and as it seemed to die down a bit, she felt her shoulders start to relax…

  There was a sharp knock at the door.

  Startled, she jumped and the books broke out into flames again. Jesus, who was at the door? It had to be someone from the apartment complex or someone by mistake - she hadn’t buzzed anyone in. Whoever it was, they could fucking wait.

  Jade was back at the sink, filling another pot of water, eyeballing the burning books from where she stood, trying to decide if she should try to pick them up and dump them all in the shower and soak them there.

  Another loud knock sounded against the door - this time firmer, harder.

  “Go away!” Jade shouted, hauling her saucepan across the room to dump on her small -getting larger every moment - fire.

  “I can help you.”

  She looked over at the closed door incredulously and then back down at the rapidly growing fire. The hell you can, she thought. Her entire coffee table was on fire and if she hadn’t already deactivated the fire alarms in her apartment, they would have surely gone off. If Jade couldn’t control this quickly, the smoke would set off the alarms in the hallway and she’d have a hell of a time explaining why there’d been two fires in two weeks in her apartment.

  Panic wasn’t something she typically gave in to. But in that moment, with a third knock coming from the door, with the coffee table wood crackling with flames, and her only holding an empty saucepan, she admitted it. She was panicking.

  It took less than two strides for her to reach her door. Jade flung it open and found herself staring at a man with dark hair and impossibly blue eyes.

  “You’d better not be lying,” Jade shot out, her voice on edge and sharp. He took one look at her, his face calm, impassive, and then looked over her shoulder at the burning coffee table and books.

  “I see,” he said simply. He took a step inside her apartment and shut the door behind him with a soft click. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, possibly yell at him, when he raised a hand and then murmured a few quiet words.

  It was like she could feel him pulling the fire from the table and books. She hunched over herself slightly, a look of distaste spreading over her face. It felt like someone had just curled a fist in her stomach - it wasn’t painful but it was intrusive and she didn’t like it. She wanted to push him away, punch him in the head or just - get him to stop what he was doing.

  He looked sharply over at her. “Stop fighting me.” His voice was low, commanding.

  She shook her head and took a step away from him. She wasn’t fighting him, she wasn’t doing anything. She just… She was overwhelmed. It was like he was everywhere, all around her, crowding her.

  “Please,” he said, his voice softer, quieter. “Stop fighting me.”

  “I’m not!” Jade snapped.

  He still had one hand raised facing the fire, and with the other, he reached out toward her and she flinched back. She felt the heat of the flames as they spiked, the entire room going hot
and bright for a moment and all she could think was away away away, get away.

  He dropped his hand quickly and this time, he took a step away from her, whispering other words that she couldn’t make out or understand. His eyes flickered from Jade back to the fire and then he squared his shoulders sharply, narrowed his eyes and clenched the hand he was holding up hard, into a fist.

  Jade felt squeezed, pinched and, not knowing why, she took a step toward him, wanting him to stop whatever he was doing, just stop.

  He held out his other hand again, this time as if he was holding her off, and he squeezed his fist tighter. For a moment, Jade couldn’t breathe and she wanted to push at him and then -

  Everything released.

  It was like being suddenly freed after being tied up. She gasped in a few deep breaths, looked over her shoulder where her scorched coffee table wasn’t even smoking – it just sat there black and still. She turned back at the stranger in her apartment. He was taller than her by about three inches, but not overly muscled - slender like a runner or a swimmer. A faint sheen of sweat dotted his upper lip and brow even though it wasn’t really hot in the apartment, despite the fire. He was dressed, neatly, in tailored slacks and a blue dress shirt, shoes perfectly shiny and crisp. But it was his eyes that made her stop. Those perfectly dark blue eyes that seemed genetically impossible.

  Impossible for a human. She narrowed her own eyes at him and felt her whole body tensed up.

  “What the fuck are you?”

  “I’m a witch. And so are you, Jade,” he said

  She felt an icy trickle down her spine at the mention of her name. Do not react, do not react, she told herself and amazingly she could feel her face remain placid. She shook her head.

  “Medication cart missed its rounds today?” Jade asked sarcastically.

  He smiled. “You know what I’m talking about. Please don’t insult me by pretending you don’t. I only wish to talk to you.”

  They stood there, staring at each other, for a few heavy moments. He waited patiently, as though he had all the time in the world for her to make up her mind.

  “So talk.”

  “May I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the sofa.

  “No.”

  He nodded once and then seemed to gather his thoughts, looking briefly around her apartment. “If I make you nervous, I have a female partner. If you like, I can invite her to join us.”

  “You don’t make me nervous,” Jade said, not moving from where she stood. She wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or not. She wasn’t scared, but she didn’t exactly want to invite him in and offer him a cup of coffee either. “And even if you did, just because you have a woman with you, it wouldn’t make you any safer.”

  “I suppose not.” He paused for a moment and then inclined his head slightly. “My name is Paris.”

  She narrowed her brows. “Like France?”

  He had a rueful expression. “Yes.”

  “You sound British,” she accused, like he didn’t already know what he sounded like.

  He inclined his head once more. “My mother was from England, and perhaps had a sense of humor.” He spoke to her like he already knew her, like he was telling her a confidence. She wanted to believe him but at the same time still felt wary and mistrustful. Paris waited a moment for Jade to say something else and when she didn’t, he continued.

  “I assume you know of the existence of witches? You likely had some sort of awareness class in school or perhaps a presentation?”

  “Yeah. They said witches are born into a coven. I wasn’t,” she countered, keeping her voice cool.

  Paris nodded slowly. “Yes, you’re… Somewhat of an anomaly. We were unaware of your existence at all until a short while ago when you started bleeding magic.”

  Jade stiffened thinking of the spontaneous fires, the exploding street lamp. She didn’t say anything but raised an eyebrow and gave him a look that she hoped conveyed ‘continue.’

  “We could sense your magic and realizing you weren’t part of any coven, we came to find you. To ask you to join our Coven.”

  Jade knew what the word meant but still couldn’t stop herself from saying, “The what?”

  “The coven. My Coven. As a witch, you belong in one.”

  A disbelieving snort ripped from Jade’s mouth before she had time to stifle it. “Right,” she said. A nervous laugh escaped and she covered it up with a smirk. “Because I’m a witch.”

  “I’m quite serious, Jade,” he said, unperturbed.

  She snorted again. It felt so ridiculous. “You know, you’re not the first person to tell me I’m a witch, but I usually get more of a chance to piss someone off first.” She shook her head. “So what, you’re here to suss me out and see if I want to join your little coven?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. The amount of magic you’ve been expending is quite extraordinary for someone with no training or knowledge.”

  He took a small step toward her and she moved back immediately. She was listening but that didn’t mean she was comfortable. He seemed to realize his mistake and returned to his original position. They remained like two boxers in their corners, each watching the other.

  “So, how often does this happen?” she asked.

  “Pardon?”

  She waved a hand. “How often do you guys have to go out and ‘collect,’” Jade made air quotes around the word, “witches who weren’t born into a coven? I didn’t read anything about it or find any references when I was looking this all up.”

  Paris hesitated and Jade’s heart thumped in her chest madly.

  “You’re the first,” he admitted. She could see his reluctance.

  Jade huffed and tried to ignore the disappointment and uncertainty his words caused to creep up inside her chest. “I’m just a special snowflake then.”

  His lips curled slightly in a smile. “It would appear so.”

  “So, what do you want?”

  Paris frowned slightly. “For you to join my Coven.”

  “Yeah, you said, but what does that mean? Is it like a membership or a subscription? Like joining a gym and then never going? Or are you gonna make me show up in a robe and chant freaky shit in a circle or what?”

  He shook his head. “It’s like neither of those things. A coven is your home, your family. We live in the same area, we work together, we practice magic with one another, sanction each other’s spells, work as a unit.”

  She held her hands up and took a step backward. “That seems like a lot of togetherness and sharing.”

  “It’s how witches are,” Paris said with a shrug.

  “I’m not a witch,” she said immediately, instinctively.

  “Yes,” he said evenly. “You are,” his eyes matched hers unblinking. “Come back to our Coven with us. My partner, Callie, and me. See what you think.”

  “I don’t even know you,” she snapped.

  “You’ll get to know us. We can give you a place to live. You can meet other witches, learn how to use your magic. I think you’ll probably feel quite at home in a coven.”

  “I’m not much of a joiner,” she said. “I don’t want to sit in a circle and sing kumbaya with a bunch of people I don’t know.”

  “Nothing like that,” Paris soothed. “Just… Spend some time with us. Learn from us. It will be an opportunity for you to see what you can accomplish, how much magic you have.”

  “Or maybe for you to see how much magic I have?” she countered. Nothing was free in the world, supernatural or otherwise. If she did have magic, she wasn’t stupid enough to think that other people with magic wouldn’t be curious or envious of her.

  He nodded a little reluctantly. “Yes. I admit, we’re curious. As I said, you’re the first witch we’ve known to exist outside a coven. You’ve sparked some curiosity.”

  Jade recoiled. “I won’t be your freak show. I’m not going to go just so you can poke and prod me. Forget it.”

  “Nothing of the sort,” Paris assured. “As
I said, people are curious, but they will be respectful.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  He gave her a small smile. “I’m Coven Leader. They will follow my example.”

  She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or not. If the rest of his coven followed Paris’ lead then it was logical to assume that the same would be expected of her if she joined. But still, she was tempted to go. To go somewhere where maybe the strange things that were happening to her would make sense. To see what it was all about, learn new things. And she certainly couldn’t just hang around and wait to set something else on fire. The fires were getting bigger, harder to extinguish, springing wilder. Plus, she was a big girl. If she didn’t like something or was uncomfortable, she could leave. Jade had learned the hard way to trust her instincts. She could always go and if she got a weird or hinky vibe, she could ditch it.

  It was so bizarre. Sure, she knew of the existence of witches, everyone did. But she hardly knew anything at all about covens. Was a coven of witches ten, twenty or one hundred people? Did they live in cities or have their own little village? What they would expect from her when she got there?

  “For how long?” Jade asked. “How long would I have to stay?”

  Paris hesitated and she saw it clearly. She narrowed her eyes.

  “A month,” he said finally. “Come back with us for a month.”

  She met his unblinking eyes across the space between them. “What will I have to do there?”

  “You’ll get a chance to meet more of us. Learn more. We can teach you a lot of things.”

  She pursed her lips. “What if I want to leave?”

  “I think you’ll like being part of a coven, being around others with magic.”