Pledge (Witches of Coventry House Book 1)

by Christina Garner

  Quinn pulled the car to a stop.

  “Thanks again.” Eden grabbed her bag.

  “No problem,” he said. “I’m headed to work. You should come by. If you want to.”

  Eden’s heart skipped a beat, and she stopped her smile before it crossed into goofy territory.

  “Cool,” she said.

  She felt his eyes on her as she walked into the shelter, which was the only reason she didn’t skip.

  Eden made it just in time for the lecture, though she found it hard to concentrate. For one, she already knew all of the information, and for the other, she was preoccupied with thoughts of Quinn. Asking her to visit wasn’t a date, exactly, but it was definitely something, right?

  At the end of the lecture the new volunteers were given a tour of the facility, and while it was clean and seemed well-run, her heart broke at the number of unwanted dogs in cages.

  “Would it be all right if I took one out for a walk?” she asked at the end of the tour.

  She couldn’t bear to see their sad faces as they pressed against the chain link or danced around hoping for the smallest scrap of attention.

  “Absolutely,” the shelter manager replied. “How about Bella? She’s a senior so she hasn’t been getting much attention.”

  Bella was a beautiful shepherd mix who pranced about as her cage was opened but settled down after a few minutes outside.

  Eden’s heart broke a little when it was time to take her back, but she kissed her on the top of her head. “I’ll be back soon.”

  On her way out she warned herself not to get overextended like she usually did but then circled back and signed up for a bunch of shifts anyway.

  When Eden entered The Grind, she noticed Quinn noticing her. Had he been looking for her? The thought made her smile as she waited her turn.

  “Hey! How did it go?” he said when she reached his counter.

  “Good. I am now free to get my doggie fix.”

  “As fixes go, that’s a good one,” he said. “What can I get you? It’s on me.”

  Was it still not a date if he was buying?

  “Surprise me,” she said then added, “Just not loaded with caffeine. It’s too soon in the semester for an all-nighter.”

  “Got it,” Quinn said with a grin. “Have a seat. I’ll bring it to you.”

  She took a seat that allowed her to steal glances without being obvious. She watched as he made her coffee. He used soy milk, so he remembered her drink order from last time. Eden found that sweet. Boyfriend potential sweet.

  As he turned to walk over she looked down, pretending to study.

  “Here you go.” He presented her with a frothy mug. “It’s a decaf mocha.”

  “Excellent choice,” Eden said. “It’s like you already know me.”

  Quinn gave her an eye-crinkling smile. “I’d like to—”

  A crashing sound reverberated throughout the room, and they both whipped their heads to see the other barista surrounded by broken glass.

  “I’ve got it,” Quinn called to her, hurrying over.

  He grabbed a broom, and Eden cursed the girl’s clumsiness, even though it wasn’t exactly charitable. He had definitely been about to ask her out.

  By the time he’d finished getting up the last bits of glass, the register had a long line, so he didn’t have time to come back over and finish asking Eden out.

  Part of her wanted to be at home practicing magic, but she did have assignments, so she might as well do them at The Grind. Even as she studied she kept waiting for things to slow down so Quinn could come back over, but they never quite did. She finally admitted defeat and packed up her things.

  Before she left, she stopped in the restroom. It was the size of a shoe box, and she tried in vain to find the light switch. Realizing it must be on the outside, she spun round, only to accidentally slam the door—plunging her into total darkness.

  Eden fumbled for the doorknob. She could deal with dark, and she could deal with cramped. But dark and cramped was too much like—

  She jiggled the lock harder, but it refused to budge.

  Her palms were clammy and slipped off the knob.

  She wiped her hands on her jeans and told herself not to panic. She was in a restaurant full of people.

  “Hey, I’m stuck—”

  The words died as her throat seized up. The room closed in around her, and Eden began to sweat.

  No one was coming.

  Her heart pounded.

  She was going to die, and no one was coming.

  Impossibly strong hands clutched her shoulders and tossed her into the trunk. She caught one glimpse of him—veins pulsating beneath translucent skin, jagged gray teeth, and sunken eyes with pupils that glowed yellow—and then he slammed the lid, plunging her into total darkness.

  She struggled against her bindings and gasped for air. Something thick and rank filled her throat and scratched her windpipe.

  Sweat ran down her in rivulets, the heat so intense she felt she might burn from the inside out.

  A horrific cry filled her ears, and then there were flames. White and searing, they clawed at her from all sides.

  She slammed her feet against the trunk and kicked, over and over—

  “Eden!”

  Her eyes flew open to see Quinn, clutching her shoulders and staring at her, bewildered.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “The lock— It sticks sometimes.”

  Eden gulped in air. Sweat dripped from her forehead, plastering her hair to her face.

  “Fire,” she croaked.

  “What?” He looked more confused than ever.

  Eden gestured behind him. “Fire.”

  Quinn spun around to see what Eden did—on a small side table, a candle had ignited a wall hanging. He raced into action, grabbing a fire extinguisher from the wall and putting out the small blaze.

  Legs rubbery, Eden sagged against the doorframe, too weak to care how completely mortified she was. She took a step forward and stumbled, Quinn catching her in strong arms.

  “Easy,” he said. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’m fine.” She stepped past him. Twenty minutes ago she’d been daydreaming about his arms around her but not like this. He was looking at her with pity. She hated that look. “I need to get going.”

  “You can’t walk all the way back to Coventry House,” he said. “I’m off in thirty minutes—”

  “I said I’m fine.” Eden didn’t wait for him to respond, just pushed her way through the crowd of people waiting in line—many of them giving her the what’s her problem? looks she knew so well.

  Outside the cool air hit her like a slap and was almost enough to bring her to her senses, but she still couldn’t make herself turn back around and accept Quinn’s ride.

  She was about to call her parents—she’d feel safer walking back home at dusk if she had company—when the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

  Eden spun around but found no one within fifteen feet of her, let alone paying her any attention. But her neck didn’t stop tingling, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes upon her.

  She peered into the distance, toward the ring of trees that served as a boundary for part of the campus. There was something out there.

  Her heart beat wildly.

  Not real, she told herself. It’s just your imagination. It’s not—

  A hand clamped down on Eden’s shoulder, and she screamed.

  She spun, swinging her bag wildly, prepared to fight for her life.

  Prepared to do whatever it took not to be taken. Again.

  Sarah’s eyes widened in shock as a feral-looking Eden swung her purse right at Sarah’s head. She ducked, barely avoiding the blow, and let out a yelp of her own.

  Recognition flashed on Eden’s face, and she stopped, mid-second swing.

  “Oh my God.” She looked mortified and dropped her bag. “I’m so sorry. I thought... I thought you were someone els
e.”

  “I’m glad I’m not her.” Sarah put a hand to her heart to stop its yammering. “Sorry I scared you.”

  Eden took a deep breath and steadied herself against the building. “Sorry I almost clobbered you.” She smiled weakly. “Nice reflexes, by the way.”

  “You too,” Sarah said as she caught her breath. “A girl can never be too careful, right?”

  “Well...” This time Eden’s smile reached her eyes. “Maybe a little.”

  They shared a laugh and started in the direction of Coventry House, and Sarah made a mental note never to approach Eden from behind.

  From the depths of shadow, Mael smiled—his first since returning to this world. He’d been assured he would find her here, but he hadn’t been convinced. Until now.

  Her magic made his skin itch, the phantom of long-healed scars making sure he would never forget the pain she’d caused or how he’d been bested by a child. That humiliation burned almost as much as his flesh had.

  But she wasn’t a child any longer. He would wait until just the right moment to take her.

  His employer needed her alive. Mael wanted her tortured. The two were not mutually exclusive.

  Chapter 10

  Eden opened her notebook and marked her medication as effective.

  “Is that a dream journal?” Sarah asked.

  Eden looked up in surprise that she was already awake.

  “Something like that.” She tucked it back in her drawer in the bedside table. She’d thought about hiding it, but she trusted Sarah not to snoop, and if she did, it wouldn’t really tell her anything.

  “Still bummed about last night?” She propped herself up on her pillows.

  “It was beyond humiliating.” Eden hoisted herself out of bed. She was going to need coffee even before taking a shower. That was the thing about sleeping pills—by the time she wasn’t waking up groggy, they had stopped being completely effective.

  “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Sarah said. “We always think things are worse than they are.”

  “The entire place stared at me like I was a freak.” Eden didn’t want to be told it wasn’t bad. It was bad.

  “But not Quinn, right?” Sarah said. “You said he just looked worried.”

  “Yeah, worried that I’m a freak,” Eden said, but even as she spoke the words she knew they weren’t true. He’d been genuinely concerned. She was stupid not to let him drive her home. Between her meltdown and her stubbornness, she’d probably blown her chance.

  “Think you’ll go back today? I could meet you if you want a wing woman.”

  “Thanks,” Eden said. “But not a chance. I need some distance between me and my mortification.”

  She left to grab coffee, promising to bring some back for Sarah. As she made her way to the kitchen, she wondered if embarrassment was the real reason she couldn’t go back. It definitely played a part, but the truth was she’d felt something. Not just the fear or the memory but something familiar that she couldn’t quite place. And that something chilled her to the bone.

  “She didn’t remember anything?” Jules asked, her eyes big.

  Hannah’s interaction with Lexi had hurt her feelings, and at first she’d kept it to herself. But it gnawed at her as she got ready for class the next day, so she decided to tell Jules.

  “Not exactly...” Hannah ran a flat iron through her hair. “More like she remembered it differently. Like it was her idea to leave.”

  “Maybe it was,” Jules replied. “Maybe she saw both trays and chose the rose anyway.”

  “Could be,” Hannah said. “But she didn’t seem to remember the tests, and she barely remembered me. I know not everyone is friendly here, but some of us are. It’s kind of weird that she’d forget that, isn’t it?”

  Hannah had gone out of her way to make Lexi feel better when she’d let her roommate get kicked out. Did that really count for nothing?

  “It’s definitely not un-weird.” Jules pulled on a pair of Hannah’s old jeans.

  “Do you think maybe...” Hannah paused, unsure if she should speak her suspicion out loud. Jules was pretty serious in her devotion to Coventry House. “Maybe Carolyn has something to do with it?”

  “What do you mean?” Jules asked.

  Jules didn’t seem offended, just curious, so Hannah continued. “Think about it. We took vows to keep Coventry House secret, but Lexi didn’t.”

  “Yeah but she doesn’t know what Coventry House really is,” Jules countered.

  “Can you really be sure?” Hannah said. “Tell the truth; the minute you saw the spheres of light, even while you were trying to figure out how they did it, didn’t you kind of know? Or at least suspect?”

  “A little.” Jules paused as she pulled a sweater from the drawer. “It was like it felt familiar, but I didn’t know why.”

  “Same with me.” Hannah unplugged her flat iron. “Carolyn said we probably had some kind of magical experience when we were kids—even if we don’t remember it.”

  “I remember mine.” Jules pulled the sweater over her head.

  Hannah looked up in surprise. “Really? What was it?”

  “Auras.” Jules reached for a pair of well-worn boots. “You know, colored lights that swirl around a person’s energy field.”

  Hannah shrugged. She’d barely heard of auras, let alone seen one.

  Jules went on. “I used to see them when I was a kid. But then my foster sister made fun of me so I kept quiet about them. After a while I stopped seeing them at all.”

  Foster sister? Jules hadn’t mentioned that before. It explained the clothes and her desperation to become a member of Coventry House.

  “Do you see them now?” Hannah asked, not wanting to press the issue. “What color am I?”

  “On the night we pledged you were a rose gold like the rest of us. But I haven’t seen any since then. Sorry.”

  “Still, that’s pretty cool.” Hannah opened her makeup bag. “If I had one, I don’t remember it, but I definitely knew something was going on the night we pledged. Maybe Lexi didn’t put it together, but somebody over the years would have. And I haven’t heard a single rumor about anything witchy happening here. Have you?”

  Jules shook her head. “I haven’t. Small town like this, if one person so much as hinted at it, word would spread pretty fast.”

  “That’s what I’m getting at.” Hannah chose a lip gloss. “Maybe Carolyn does something—like a memory spell or whatever—to make sure any booted girls forget the magic part of Coventry House.”

  “Could be.” Jules grabbed her purse. “Not like I’d blame her. There aren’t many girls in this place I’d trust my secrets to. Present company excluded, of course.”

  Jules left for class, and Hannah finished getting ready. The more she thought about it, the more she was sure Carolyn did something to mess with Lexi’s memory. The idea made her skin crawl, and she was glad Carolyn would never have reason to go rooting around in her brain.

  Sarah ate her lunch on the quad and watched as Kai led a group of others doing tai chi. She hadn’t run into her since Kai had bought her the iced tea. She had another hour before her next class started—it couldn’t hurt to wait until Kai was done and ask if she was thirsty. After all, Sarah did still owe her.

  Twenty minutes later when the group finished, Sarah waved her over.

  “Hey,” Kai said. “I haven’t seen you around.”

  “Have you been looking?” Where did that question come from?

  “Maybe,” Kai said with a grin. “I like to collect my debts.”

  “That’s why I waited.” Sarah smiled back. “I like to pay mine.”

  They strolled over to the beverage cart, where each ordered an iced coffee. Sarah learned that Kai was also a freshman and was from Las Vegas, though she’d been born in Hawaii.

  “What was that like?” Sarah asked. Hawaii was as exotic of a location as she could think of. It made sense that Kai would come from such a place.

  “Paradise.”
Kai looked wistful. “We moved away when I was eight, and it was a bit of a shock. But Vegas has a surprising number of islanders. This place is more of a shock.” She gestured. “I’ve never seen a place so Caucasian.”

  Sarah looked around. Kai was right. She was the only person of color in the near vicinity.

  “I never really noticed.”

  “No reason you would—you fit the mold. No offense,” Kai added quickly. “There’s nothing wrong with being white. I just mean you probably wouldn’t notice you were white unless you went to a place where you were the minority.”

  “That makes sense,” Sarah said. “I guess I never thought about what it feels like to be different.”

  Since pledging Coventry House she actually did know what that felt like, but she could hide it—was required to, in fact. But Kai couldn’t hide her ethnicity and shouldn’t have to.

  “I’m Asian and Pacific Islander, in case you were wondering.” Kai sipped her drink.

  Sarah had been but wasn’t sure if it was okay to ask.

  “In Hawaii it’s pretty common to be mixed—we call it hapa. Here, I’m a bit of an anomaly. Curiosity tends to make people bold.”

  “Bold as in rude?” Sarah couldn’t imagine having her skin color or heritage being a constant subject of discussion.

  Kai shrugged. “They don’t mean to be. Don’t get me wrong—if someone is outright obnoxious, I’ll give it right back to them. But if I’m the only mixed-race person they’ve ever met, I figure it does race relations more good if I at least try to have a sense of humor about it.”

  Sarah wasn’t so sure she’d be able to do the same. She glanced at her phone, surprised to see she’d lost all track of time.

  “Sorry, but I’ve gotta book,” she said. “My next class starts in five.”

  “No worries,” Kai said. “Maybe we can do this again sometime.”

  “Yeah, definitely,” Sarah said.

  “How about tonight?” Something flashed in Kai’s eyes that Sarah couldn’t quite place.

  “I can’t tonight. I’ve got a…thing.” She’d tried to say “pledge meeting,” but even that seemed to strain her vow.