Shattered Circle: The Witches Circle Book 3

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Shattered Circle: The Witches Circle Book 3 Page 2

by C. Larsen


  "Frankly, your pack is one of the reasons she's not safe here," Gray says bluntly, staring Sebastian down. "James hasn't agreed to the truce yet either."

  "James isn't going to hurt her!"

  "And you know that how? Don't tell me you're high enough in the ranks to be privy to the Alpha's plans," he says, laughing.

  Sebastian’s cheeks redden. I guess that was some sort of werewolf insult. He opens his mouth to argue back but I jump in before he can.

  "Stop!" I raise my hand in the air between them, interrupting their pissing contest. "It's my choice, and I'm not making any decisions yet. I’ve barely even talked to Madelyn since the night of the ritual."

  They both subside, Sebastian shooting Gray looks. Gray just smirks at him and continues eating his pizza. I look across the table at Olivia, rolling my eyes. She has the audacity to smother a laugh. I wish I could talk to Caiden about all this, but I'm not sure where we stand. He’s been avoiding me since Friday night.

  The bell rings and I nervously head off to English, the only class I have with Caiden. When I walk into the room, he’s already in his usual seat. I pluck up my courage and walk to the empty seat next to him.

  But before I can sit down, a knock sounds at the door. Detective Nickels steps into the room, his dark, calculating gaze locked on mine.

  Chapter 2

  “I need to speak to Miss Greenwood,” he says, never taking his eyes off mine. “I have some more questions for her regarding Friday night.”

  I glare at him. Did he really have to come out to the school for this? He couldn’t wait until I got home?

  His lips twitch. He’s enjoying this. It’s probably the highlight of his year, dragging me out of class like a criminal. With one last glance at Caiden, I stomp up to the front of the room. A chorus of ‘oooohs’ follows me out into the hall.

  "Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite juvenile delinquent," Nickels drawls as he leads the way to the principal’s office. "You seem to be in the middle of all sorts of problems. First your dad gets attacked, and now Lydia." He tsks. "Seems no one is safe around you these days."

  For once, he's not completely off base. Nobody is safe around me, not with the list of enemies I've accrued. "Shouldn't my father be here for this?" I ask, raising one eyebrow and jutting out my hip cockily. "I am still a minor, you know."

  "Not unless you have something to hide.” His eyes bore into mine, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. "This isn't an interrogation; I just have a few clarifying questions about your whereabouts on Friday."

  I don't believe him for a second, but I sit down in the chair he motions me toward. Nickels runs through the same list of questions he asked me Friday night when he arrived on the scene: Who was I with? What were we doing out in the woods? Why did we leave homecoming early? I give him the same answers I gave him then.

  Our official story to the police is that Caiden, Arianna, Lydia, Ethan and myself left homecoming and decided to take a walk through the woods. Lydia got separated from the group, and the next thing we heard was screaming. By the time we found her, the animal was gone. I called nine-one-one, but it was too late to save her.

  According to Nickels and the rest of town, Lydia was the victim of a random animal attack, though the coroners can't agree on exactly what animal it was. Oddly enough, the claw marks seem to be more in line with a large cat than a wolf, which has the whole town up in arms, afraid there might be a mountain lion prowling close to town. Even though mountain lions in this area supposedly became extinct decades ago, every year there are reports from people claiming to have seen them. This recent attack has even the wildlife department considering the possibility that they may be back.

  Nickels continues to ask the same questions with different wording, sometimes even purposely misquoting me, trying to trip me up. If that was his plan in seeking me out today, he's failed. Mirowski and Madelyn drilled the story into all of us over, and over, and over again that night. We couldn't forget it even if we wanted to. He has no chance of catching me in a lie. Luckily, the corner who did the original examination is a member of James' pack and was able to hide much of the evidence. But Detective Nickels isn’t stupid. He knows something isn't right. And he isn't going to rest until he gets to the truth.

  By the time he finishes with his questions, it's well into eighth period. He closes his notebook with a snap and gives me an inscrutable look. "Well, that about covers it, Emerson. If you remember anything else, be sure to let me know. Or if you're suddenly overcome with a guilty conscience and feel like telling me the truth for once, you have my number." He gets up to leave, but before walking through the door he pauses and looks back at me. "Oh, by the way, how's your father doing? You ever ask him about Boston?"

  I narrow my eyes, but refuse to let him rattle me. As the detective who investigated my mom’s supposed suicide years ago, our paths have crossed on more than one occasion, all of them unpleasant. He’s concocted this wild theory that my dad was having an affair the weekend my mom died and that she killed herself because of it. It’s ridiculous, of course, but he never misses an opportunity to shove this painful theory down my throat.

  "There's nothing to ask. If he said he was there for work, then he was."

  "Funny, because I've been doing some more searching and discovered somebody else who was in Boston that week. You might know her: Victoria Price."

  "Landon's mom?"

  He inclines his head, a hard glint in his eye. "The one and same. Odd that she left town right after everything happened with your mom. Your father wouldn't know anything about that, would he?"

  "I don't know, Detective, I guess you'd have to ask him."

  He smirks, satisfied with my reaction. I remain seated after he leaves, trying to slow my pounding heart.

  It's true that Landon's mom left soon after my mom's death. I remember the gossip about it at school. Rumors said she left her husband for another man and moved out of town. Of course, this was right after my mom died, so I didn't care enough to ask any questions, but the timing of the two things never struck me as anything other than a coincidence. In fact, I was almost grateful that the school had something to gossip about other that my mom's supposed suicide. But if Nickels is right that Victoria was in Boston the same time as my dad... As much as I hate to admit it, it is a strange coincidence.

  Just then, Davidson opens the door, interrupting my thoughts. "Miss Greenwood, this isn't a pass to skip the rest of your classes. Get a move on before I'm forced to give you detention."

  Grumbling under my breath, I head off to Chemistry. Thank God the day is almost over.

  Chemistry is by far the worst part of the day; Lydia used to be in this class. I'd almost prefer to be harassed by Nickels than listen to the somber murmurs around me or to see the collection of flowers, candles, and other items set up like a memorial on her lab desk.

  Mr. Mirowski doesn't even attempt to teach a lesson today. He just gives us some worksheets to complete - busy work - and lets us be. Most people ignore the work, instead spending the period talking about what a tragedy Lydia's death was and wondering if there really is a mountain lion prowling in the forest outside town. A few people throw me suspicious looks, but it’s nice to know the entire school doesn’t believe I’m a murderer. Just half the school.

  One girl tries to get me to recount that night, eager for all the gory details, but one glare is enough to send her scuttling away. No one bothers trying to talk to me after that and I end up finishing my work well before the period ends. When the bell rings, I sprint for the door.

  When I pull up in front of my house, I’m surprised to see Caiden waiting on my porch.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “You didn’t come back to class. I was worried.”

  I shrug. “I’m fine. He just asked the same questions as last time. Trying to rattle me I guess.”

  He nods, face blank, his thoughts and emotions carefully hidden. He studies my face a moment and I feel the same
fluttery feeling in my temples as I always do whenever he's trying to read my emotions. “Can I come in? We need to talk.”

  I let him in, and he strolls into the living room, looking anywhere but at me.

  "So, how's your father doing?"

  "He's recovering. They think he’ll be discharged from the hospital in a couple of days."

  Caiden turns to look at me, disbelief breaking through his aloof facade. "And he's okay with you staying here by yourself after what happened?"

  The night before Caroline's failed ritual, she broke into my house and attacked my dad, trying to scare me into agreeing to the blood bond. Luckily, my estranged grandmother, Madelyn, showed up and uncovered the deceit before I went through with the ritual. Unfortunately, I was knocked unconscious and kidnapped and almost forced to go through with it anyway. My father was left with a concussion and no memory of what happened. As far as he's concerned, he was a victim of a simple home invasion.

  "No, of course not," I answer. "My dad thinks I'm still staying at Arianna's."

  Caiden's mouth thins in anger. "Why didn't you tell me he wasn't back yet? Do you know how dangerous it is for you to stay here all alone? Caroline could come back for you, or James' pack. You should have-"

  "No one’s come for me yet," I interrupt him. "My dad is going to be home in a couple days. Everything’s fine.”

  "No, it's not. Even when your dad gets back, how often is he home? He's always at work or out of town. How many nights a week are you left here alone?"

  “What does it matter if he’s here or not? It’s not like he’d be much help against witches and werewolves anyway."

  Caiden runs his hand through his dark brown hair, his emerald eyes glinting in frustration. He takes an audible breath and visibly forces himself to calm down. “Me and Arianna are worried about you. No one's been able to find Caroline, and we don't know what the local pack is planning, now that they know about us. It's not safe for you to stay here right now. Not with everything that's going on.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Maybe he wants me to stay at his house for the time being. My heart beats faster at the thought.

  “Well, even though I don't trust Gray, or any of the werewolves for that matter, I don't think Silver Ridge would harm you, not with Madelyn's coven there,” he answers carefully.

  “Wait, you want me to move to Vermont? You want me to leave?” My stomach plummets.

  “I think it would be safest, at least for now.”

  "I don't see the rest of the coven running away and hiding."

  "Well, you’re not technically in the coven anymore, are you? You can’t rely on them to protect you if the Haven Pack attacks. Plus, you’re the only one from the War Gods class."

  "So?"

  "So, by now the local pack knows that your abilities are the most dangerous to them. You’re the one they'll go after first, if a war breaks out."

  "That's not true. Arianna is just as dangerous—she can conjure up a hurricane for god's sake. She's probably more dangerous. And what about you? You can get inside their minds and make them see and believe anything you want. Hell, you can make them have a brain aneurysm if you want!"

  His eyes frost over and I instantly regret my outburst. Like he needs to be reminded about that right now.

  "Not anymore," he says coldly. "I blood bound myself to Caroline, remember? I'm not as powerful as I used to be. And besides, the pack doesn't know about our abilities. All they know is that you are dangerous to them—dangerous enough that your own coven leader was going to kill you to steal your abilities. You don't think that's enough of a reason for them to come after you, to eliminate you? They've been hunting down witches from the War Gods class for centuries. "

  His words send a tendril of fear through me. I had forgotten that. Supposedly Brannagh, the witch who originally created werewolves, was from the War Gods class. It's said that any witch from that class who has the ability to shape-shift is also capable of controlling and enslaving the werewolves when they're in their animal forms. Because of this, werewolves have hunted witches from my class to near extinction.

  "But I can't shape-shift. I'm not a danger to them."

  "They don't know that."

  "So, your solution is to ship me off to Vermont?"

  "Do you have a better idea?"

  "Yes! I'll stay here and deal with the pack if it comes to it, which it probably won't."

  "You would stand with the coven against the pack? You're going to fight against Olivia? Against Sebastian?"

  "Is that what this is about? Sebastian? You think I still have feelings for him, that we're getting back together? That’s why you want me to leave town?"

  "What?" He looks outraged. "I'm not jealous of Sebastian. If you want to go out with him again, go ahead. I don't care."

  "You don't?" I ask skeptically. "It wouldn't bother you if Sebastian and I started dating again? Even after everything that’s happened between us?"

  His eyes turn hard, jaw clenching. "Nothing happened between us. We're friends."

  "Friends? It didn't feel that way to me." I keep my chin raised, meeting his eyes squarely, but inside, doubt starts to creep up. I thought he'd been avoiding me because he was busy with the coven and the funeral, but maybe not. Maybe I read too much into our relationship...

  Last week, when I accidentally exposed our coven to the Silver Ridge Pack, Caroline ordered me and Caiden to pretend to date as an excuse for him to stay close and protect me from the pack. Though neither Caiden nor I were happy about it, we grudgingly went along with her plan. But something changed between us during that time. Initially, we were barely friends, but by the end, we were something more. Or so I thought. Now, I'm not so sure.

  "It's called acting, Emerson. None of that was real." The words are said with just the right amount of disdain, his expression locked down, emotions hidden behind the cold mask I've become so familiar with. If I hadn't gotten to know him so well over the last few weeks, I might have believed him. But there's a glint in his eyes that tells me he doesn't believe his own words any more than I do.

  "You're one hell of an actor, then. I just don't get you. You're hot, you're cold, you like me, you don't. It's been like that from the beginning. On and off. I don't know how to read you."

  "Then stop trying. I told you, Emerson. We're friends. That’s it. There’s nothing between us." His voice is hard, eyes like chips of ice.

  "Bullshit. I know you feel something for me. Or was kissing me all part of the act too?"

  "That was a mistake."

  "You don't mean that."

  "Yes, I do."

  "Where is this coming from? Is this about Lydia? Do you blame me—"

  "This has nothing to do with Lydia," he cuts me off, his expression hard as stone. "This is about me. I don't feel anything for you. I mean that."

  I don't move. He can't be serious. I didn't imagine the way he looked at me, the way he held me, the way we kissed. It wasn't just an act. Why is he doing this?

  "I'm sorry if you got the wrong impression, but I just don't feel that way about you." His cold eyes study my face, the angry flush on my cheeks, and the tears threatening to spill over. "I should go. Stay with Olivia tonight, and talk to Madelyn about Vermont. You can't stay in town any longer."

  Chapter 3

  After Caiden leaves, I angrily brush away the tears that slip down my cheeks. He wants to pretend that he feels nothing for me? So be it. But if he thinks that he can just come over here and demand that I leave town, he has another thing coming.

  I stomp into the kitchen to find the menu for China Palace, my favorite take-out restaurant. Tonight, I have every intention of curling up in front of the television binge-watching Netflix and drowning my sorrows in Kung-Pao chicken.

  Just as I pick up my cell to order, it begins ringing in my hands.

  "Em? I need to talk to you." There's an unusual urgency to Olivia's voice. "Can you come over?"

  "What's wrong? Is everything okay?"
/>   "Yeah, but we need to talk. Now."

  My heart kicks into overdrive but I swallow my panic. "Yeah, I'll be right over."

  The menu drops back to the counter and I grab my purse. As I rush out of the house, a huge black raven perched on the porch rail takes off with a screech. I briefly wonder if that’s a bad omen. The bird lands in a tree branch a short distance away, its beady eyes following me to my car. Climbing behind the wheel, I push the bird from my thoughts. This is no time to get superstitious.

  As soon as Olivia opens the door, I know my instincts were dead on. Something isn't right.

  Olivia’s face is stiff, cheeks slightly flushed as if she's angry, or maybe embarrassed. But Olivia doesn't get embarrassed, so what would cause that flush?

  The back of my neck prickles for half a second before I hear his voice.

  "Ah, Emerson. Lovely to see you again." James, Alpha of the Haven Hollow Pack, steps up behind Olivia.

  "I’m sorry, Em. I didn't have a choice." Olivia glances away from me.

  Her words barely register.

  James... He lured me here, using my best friend as bait. My heart hammers in my ears, the wild whooshing drowning out everything else. All I can think about is Gray's warning. James hasn't agreed to any truce. Gray warned me to be on my guard, but I was so upset about Caiden that the possibility that he'd use Olivia to lure me out here never crossed my mind. And now I'm here, alone, in his territory.

  My legs want to turn and run, but I lock my knees tight. Surely Olivia wouldn't have called me here if James intended to harm me, right? He may be her Alpha, but I refuse to believe she would obey him if it meant hurting me.

  Despite my nervousness, I try to stare him down, but my gaze drops involuntarily. "James." My voice only wavers the tiniest bit. "How unexpected."

  He smiles at that, a small, sly stretching of the lips, as if my response amuses him. "Don't worry, despite what you may have been told, I don't mean you any harm. I just want to talk."

  "I'm sure you could have gotten my phone number from Olivia," I say pointedly, trying to pretend that I'm not terrified out of my wits.

 

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