Coven of the Raven: box set

by Shona Husk

He looked like he’d shaken death’s hand and come back to the living. Food and sleep would fix most of it. He glanced at the bandage. He’d start praying his arm would be okay. By okay he simply meant attached and with some function. He clenched his fist. Pain shot through the muscle, but his fingers moved. It wasn’t a good fist, and he probably wouldn’t be winning any fights soon, but it was something.

  He opened the bathroom door and Mylla looked up at him.

  “You were checking your arm.” It was almost an accusation.

  “I wanted to see what kind of damage remained. I think it looks better than the last time I saw it.” He forced a smile, which she didn’t return. “You did a good job cleaning it and bandaging it. I don’t think I could fight off a real infection at the moment.”

  She crossed her arms, the blanket drawn tight around her. “So none of it was real?”

  He grimaced and leaned against the wall, standing upright was more taxing than it should be. “It was all real, and Thomas could’ve killed me. Even the fire was real, just not tangible with the senses you’re used to using.”

  For a moment he thought she was going to ask more questions and he was going to have to plead exhaustion. But her frown deepened, and then she turned away as if contemplating what he’d said.

  He followed after her. Her blanket trailed on the floor. “How come you didn’t get dressed?”

  “Everything I have he made me wear. I don’t want to put those dresses on.” She didn’t look at him, she just kept walking.

  “Would you like one of my shirts?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Really?”

  “Why not? I mean, you’ll still need to find some pants to wear underneath.”

  “But it’s men’s clothes. Only those women wear men’s clothes.”

  “What women?” He was missing part of the conversation.

  “Who like other women and pretend to be men so they can live together.”

  His brain eventually caught the gap. Last time she’d been beyond these walls, lesbians had to go to extremes to be together. “Women wear guy’s clothing all the time, particularly their boyfriend’s shirts.”

  The words were out before he’d finished thinking what he was saying. Was he her boyfriend? He was her baby daddy, assuming that all worked. It must have or they’d have been incinerated. He remembered flames brushing his skin before drawing up everything and bundling it into something else. That something else was now growing in Mylla’s belly. A baby. It didn’t seem possible, and he’d been the one handling all that magic.

  Mylla stopped. “Boyfriend?”

  “Is a guy you’re dating. Seeing, but not married to.” Shut up.

  “So if I wear yours, does that mean we are dating?”

  How did he answer that? He liked the idea of seeing her in his shirt, but after everything that had happened and the way she still looked at him like she wasn’t sure who he was, he wasn’t sure that was such a good thing to push. He wanted a chance, but right now wasn’t the best time to plead his case.

  “You need something to wear, I offered. We don’t have to read in any more than that.”

  Her expression blanked and she looked away. For a horrible moment he thought she’d slipped under some random spell again. “Can I choose?”

  “Go for it. You’ve seen them all anyway.”

  She started walking again. When he stopped on the first floor, she kept going down to the kitchen. He watched her go, and even though he knew it would only be a few minutes, he didn’t want to leave her alone. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be alone.

  Dumbass. He’d been out cold all night and she’d been fine. She’d made sure he was fine. She didn’t need him. He made his way to the phone and sat down on the sideboard. It creaked but held his weight. He dialed the mission cell and waited for Mason to pick up.

  It took three rings.

  “Hello?”

  “Mason, it’s Oskar.”

  “You’re alive?”

  “You sound surprised.” Not what he’d been expecting.

  “There was a hell of a lot of activity up there yesterday.”

  “You’ve been watching the place.”

  “From a distance, just looking for trace magics. Yesterday, Buffalo lit up like a Christmas tree. I was trying to work out what to tell the guys.”

  “Geez, I’m glad you had so much faith in me.” That was nice. They’d all thought him dead.

  “Peyton and Noah are on their way. They were coming up for a bit of a poke around—”

  “To confirm I was dead.”

  “Oskar, if you’d seen what we did, you’d have thought that, too. I was expecting news reports to come out about freak storms or other events.”

  “You almost got it.” He’d been so close to letting the magic go. It had been cold and deadly, like trying to tame a thrashing, ten-headed, poisonous snake. Ten different ways to die and all of them bad. Forcing it to do his will had been hard. While the funnel had channeled it instead of letting it swirl wildly, there had been more of it than he’d expected. Some had escaped into the fire, and there’d been a moment where he’d been tempted to let go. Every nerve had been burning and his will had begun fracturing. He shivered and then regretted it as his arm throbbed.

  There was a long pause. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah.” Mylla had done what he couldn’t.

  “If I was there, I’d take you out for drinks.”

  If he was in better shape, he’d accept in a heartbeat. “Is there a witch-friendly doctor up this way?”

  “How bad?”

  “What do you know about magic-induced necrotic wounds?” Oskar was guessing it was a specialized field.

  “Nothing. I don’t do wounds.” And that was Mason’s one weakness. He didn’t like injuries. Blood out of a vial was fine for ritual. Blood out of a body had him turning ash grey. “I’ll check. Where is the wound?”

  “Bicep. I want to keep the arm.” But he knew if no one could do anything, there would be only one solution.

  “You’re curse free; I swear we’ll get you patched up. Then you can give me the details of how to defeat a death-magic practitioner so I can add it to the book of shadows. Though hopefully no one needs that knowledge.” Was he curse free? He wasn’t sure. He’d have to talk to the Morrigu at some point. Mason scribbled something down. “Have you found his book?”

  “I was unconscious all night. I’m barely standing now. I haven’t had a chance to go into his study.” Quite frankly, the idea gave him the creeps, even though all the magic should have fallen away. Should have… There were ways to leave traps to kill the unsuspecting snoop.

  “The guys should be there later today. I’ll ring you back about the doc.”

  “Hey, can you tell the guys to bring some women’s clothing.”

  “What size?”

  Oskar paused. “Dunno. Smaller than your sister.” Mylla was thin—count her ribs thin. But a few months of eating properly and not being cut and drained would fix that.

  “I’ll organize something.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Hey, you did good.”

  Oskar put the phone back in the cradle and leaned against the wall. Mylla was watching him. She was wearing a faded blue surf T-shirt with her bloomers. Her dark hair was loose and he couldn’t decide if she looked innocent or deliberately sexy. Probably the former. But it still made his lips curve as he watched her approach.

  She handed him a plate with cut up apple, bread and cheese, and placed a large glass of water next to him. He drank half of that first while she hopped up to sit next to him. The sideboard creaked again.

  “You’re hurting more than you told me.”

  “I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “I worried all night. I was panicking that if you didn’t wake up I wouldn’t know how to leave the house or who to speak to. I don’t even know how to get into town. I have no money. I’m not even supposed to be alive.” She sniffed and drew in a breath,
as if trying to get herself under control.

  “It’s okay to fall apart sometimes.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I came this close,” he held up his thumb and forefinger so they almost touched, “to killing us both last night. Part of me is still celebrating being alive. Part of me is freaking out about if they can save my arm, and the rest of me just wants to eat and pass out again. That part is winning. I’m too tired to fall apart.” He knew it would happen. Once he was rested, the reality would kick in. And he’d have to face the rest of his life, now that he had one. He placed his hand on Mylla’s leg. “We’re alive, and for today that’s got to be enough. Tomorrow we can deal with when it gets here.”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. “You rang another witch?”

  “Mason, he was like a father to me. He runs my coven. They are the good guys, Mylla. They fight things like Thomas all the time to stop people getting hurt.”

  “Why didn’t they help you?”

  “It was my family curse. My job to break it. Peyton and Noah will be here later. Hopefully they’ll have a doctor with them.”

  “A witch doctor?”

  Oskar ginned as he chewed a piece of apple. Unfortunately, that was how he was going to think of the doctor now. “Yeah, a witch doctor. Peyton’s a lawyer and Noah does a lot of finding missing things.” Oskar skipped Noah’s demon specialty. Demon law was Noah’s thing. Not that he summoned them, but he made it a point to know about them. Specifically because of all the entities people summoned, they were the ones that gave the most hassle. Noah’s ark was a coven joke as he catalogued demon types and powers and weaknesses.

  “What do you do when you aren’t a witch?”

  Nothing. That was all he was. And he wasn’t even a full witch. The house seemed to pulse around him for a moment before settling. He frowned and looked around, but there was no death magic left. However, he felt odd. He refocused on Mylla. He was just tired. “I help run the Uncommon Raven Agency. Basically bodyguards and private investigators. When I’m not doing that, I’m helping with the magical cases. Research, background info, mission planning.”

  “Like an army officer? My father was in the army.”

  “Yeah, like that.” He’d never thought of his job like that before. “You’re remembering your family?”

  She ate some bread, chewing well before answering. “Only bits. Will I ever remember it all?”

  “I don’t know. Give it some time.” He tilted his head so his cheek rested against her hair.

  They ate the rest of the bread in silence. He was fighting to stay awake and he was sure the house was getting warmer.

  “I should check your arm before you sleep.”

  “I want to shower.” Not that he sounded overly convincing. He was tired and didn’t feel right. He hoped the doctor arrived soon.

  “Are we staying here?”

  “For the moment. Shall we lock up and go downstairs?”

  Mylla slid off the sideboard and padded over to the front door. She turned the lock, and then walked back. “I want to get my things. My book.”

  “Don’t go into his study, there may be traps.”

  “What about him?”

  “It’s just a body now. Thomas is gone.”

  “He can’t come back to life?”

  Oskar shook his head.

  “What about his ghost, will that attack us?”

  “How much sleep did you get last night?”

  “I don’t know. I’d nod off, then snap awake and make sure he was still on the floor and you were still breathing.”

  “I’m sorry.” He gave her an awkward embrace. “I should have been there.” For a moment he thought he might fall over if he hadn’t been holding onto her.

  “It doesn’t matter. You’ll be here tonight.” She drew back and looked at him. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah, just tired.” But he wasn’t so sure. He’d seen the black skin around the wound. He was in trouble. It wasn’t the house feeling warm, it was him. A cool shower, he’d check his arm and see if he could do something. But he didn’t have the power to bring dead flesh back to life. Damn Thomas.

  As the shower warmed, he peeled off Mylla’s bandage and had a good look at what had started off as a simple bullet graze. It should’ve looked like a fresh wound. A day old with a nice scab or some raw, still-weeping flesh.

  Even an infected wound would have been better and something he could’ve helped heal. With the bandage fully off, it was worse than he’d thought. All around the edges and spreading, the skin was black and dead. His stomach turned and he regretted eating. But he gave the skin a poke. Nothing. Truly dead. Dead wasn’t good. He knew that. While he’d stopped Thomas’s magic from poisoning him, there would be other after effects if the dead skin wasn’t removed.

  Awesome. Thomas may still kill him simply by leaving him with a rotting wound.

  Something trickled down his face, for a moment he thought it was blood. He wiped his hand over his forehead, it was just sweat. A fever. The poison was already in his system. He had to stop it from spreading. But if he used magic to bind up his arm, and it was left on too long, he’d destroy any chance he had of keeping the arm. Now that the curse was broken, he had a chance to live and he didn’t want to lose that over something as simple as a necrotic wound. He wanted a chance with Mylla, and to see their kid grow up.

  Oskar gritted his teeth and wrapped the magical tourniquet back around his arm. Tight enough to slow the blood flow and the spread of the toxins from the dead flesh. He knew the dead skin would need to be removed, cut out. He was pretty sure Mylla would freak if the idea was freaking him out. That was a lot of skin, and he had no idea how deep it went.

  He took a couple of breaths to steady himself, then showered quickly. He’d lie down and rest and stop giving his heart a reason to beat faster. If he dropped into a trance, he could slow it down. Planning. That he could do. He could survive this.

  Mylla wasn’t in the room that he’d been using. She was down the corridor making up a double bed. He smiled and wished he didn’t feel half-dead. Then the smile fell away and he tried to smother the idea that any part of him was dead. He didn’t want to encourage the death of any more flesh.

  “Better?” She turned around, her face full of hope. He was supposed to be helping her.

  “I need the doctor, fast.” He pulled a scrap of paper out of his pants and wrote a number on it. “Dial this number and tell Mason to hurry up.”

  She glanced at him and then the paper. “How, there’s no operator?”

  “Dial the numbers. Mason will answer.” Oskar sat on the edge of the bed and held out the paper.

  She took it. Her hand touched his for a moment, then she lifted it to his forehead. Her face paled.

  “If the doctor isn’t here by dark, we’re doing some home surgery. I’m going to try and slow my heartbeat. Wake me if you need anything.”

  “Are you dying?”

  “Not yet.” It just felt like it. He grasped her hand. “I came here planning to go down fighting, that I lived is amazing. Meeting you made me realize I could have a life after the curse. I’m not giving up, but I need help.”

  She nodded. “I won’t let you die.” Then she was letting him go and walking away.

  Oskar let himself fall back on the bed. He should have told her he loved her, just in case. As his breathing slowed, he became aware he was no longer lying on cool sheets. Grass tickled his skin and a light breeze brushed over his body, cooling him.

  He was aware of Her even though he didn’t open his eyes. She was watching him. Usually he would get up, but he didn’t have the energy to move.

  “You will not die today, Oskar.”

  “Tomorrow, then?”

  Her fingers brushed his forehead. “No. I will not claim you until you have lived and given me a son.”

  “I did.” Mylla was pregnant, isn’t that why they were both alive and not a pile of ashes?

  “Yo
u have a daughter. She will be lovely, and powerful. Ensure she is trained from a young age.”

  “Mmm.” He was drifting. Even the Morrigu’s voice sounded far away.

  “I will not let you die from this wound, Oskar, but you must fight.”

  He wasn’t sure he had anything left. Even his reserves were empty.

  “Rest here. You will feel better soon. My ravens will not peck at your eyes, but others will feed on your flesh before you are healed.”

  His heart lurched and he struggled to open his eyes. The Morrigu was a shadow with the sun behind Her, like some kind of dark angel.

  “Rest, my fine warrior. You soul is safe until help arrives.”

  Sleep darker than a raven’s feathers filled his mind.

  Chapter 18

  The telephone mocked her. She’d reach out and pull her hand back, not sure what to do. She’d been forbidden to touch it. And now? Old habits were so hard to break. But she was free. Thomas wasn’t here. Well, his body was here, but he was gone. She had to stop acting as though he’d come and punish her.

  She straightened her shoulder and picked up the handset. A smile curved her lips, then she carefully dialed the numbers on the scrap of paper. One day she was going to have lots of paper. Big pieces of it, and she’d fill them all. She was going to make noise and throw open every window. She was going to survive and live in the world that Oskar knew.

  “Hello?” A man said on the other end of the phone.

  For a moment she lost her voice. She’d fought so hard to have it back and be whoever she was. Mylla swallowed. “Mason?”

  “Yes.” She could hear the caution in the single word.

  “Oskar says the doctor needs to hurry.” She paused and wondered how much she should say, then decided to tell Mason everything she knew. “He has a fever, and is lying on the bed. I think he is doing something magic. He doesn’t want me to worry.” But she was. She didn’t want to lose him. She wanted to get to know him. The world wasn’t so scary when he was with her. And she knew that was a weakness, but for the moment she didn’t care. She wanted it to be Oskar explaining how everything worked, and he couldn’t do that if he were dead.