by Shona Husk
“You’ve decided to rejoin us.” Peyton was wiping blood off his hands and looking more grim than usual. “I’m glad I didn’t have to go in there and fetch you.”
His mouth was dry. He swallowed, but it made no difference.
“Sit him up,” the doctor said, holding a glass of what Oskar hoped was water.
The next moment he was hauled up so he was sitting on the dining table, feeling a lot like roadkill. He glanced at the bandage on his arm, sure he could feel things moving. Too much like roadkill.
“Can you manage that on your own?” Noah was leaning on the back of a chair.
Oskar held out his hand and the doctor pressed the glass into it. He almost dropped it before managing to get a grip and take a drink. He was thirsty. His body felt weird.
“The sedative is still in your system. I want to get you into bed and put an antibiotic drip in overnight.”
“And then?” His voice croaked. Being unconscious was becoming more of a habit than he was comfortable with.
“I’ll check in the morning.”
“You’re staying, Liam?” Peyton was frowning and looking at Oskar as if he expected him to pass out.
“Any of you have medical training?”
Both witches shook their heads. No one in the coven did beyond basic first aid, and this was outside that scope. They needed to recruit a doctor—or encourage someone to go to medical school.
“Fine, I’ll add it to my bill.”
“You do that. That all the bio waste?” Peyton waited for the doctor to nod, then, with an extension of his fingers and little else, the waste in the fireplace lit up and burned with an odd blue flame that Oskar knew would leave nothing behind except a small pile of unidentifiable ash.
Exactly what would’ve happened to this house if he’d failed. He shivered and everyone looked at him. “I’m fine.” Not really. He felt like crap. He was the wrong temperature, his arm was kind of throbbing and wriggling—although that could have been his imagination—and his reflexes were shot. He’d feel better in the morning. Maybe. “Where’s Mylla?”
“She went to have a shower. She looked a bit overwrought after helping clean your wound.”
“You made her help?” After everything she’d been through, that was the last thing she needed.
“Do you want me to go and look for her?” Noah gave Oskar a wink.
“No.” Oskar swung his legs off the table and nearly fell off before steadying himself. He hoped he managed to give Noah a filthy look. Mylla had a heartbeat and that was all Noah looked for. “Keep your hands off her.”
Noah held up his hands as if he’d been joking. Maybe he had been, but it wasn’t funny. He didn’t want the others butting in. He didn’t want Mylla looking at them and realizing she could do so much better than him. But he wouldn’t stop her if she did leave.
He looked up and saw her in the doorway. As much as he’d have liked to ease off the table and hug her, he didn’t trust his legs, and falling face-first onto the floor would have been worse. So he settled for smiling. Her hair was wet and pulled back; she was in another of his T-shirts and those odd bloomers. In her hands she held something.
Her gaze flicked over Noah and Peyton and Liam, then to him. His heart gave a solid thump and her eyes lit up, even though she didn’t quite smile.
“Let’s get rid of that corpse, eh?” Noah said, and he and Peyton left the kitchen.
“If you’re going to sit and behave yourself, I’ll get that drip set up in your room.” Liam picked up his case and went down the corridor, leaving him and Mylla alone in the kitchen.
“These were in your clothes.” She placed his mother’s necklace and his father’s bracelet in his palm. His arm hurt every time he moved it, but it was still attached, which he was taking as a very good sign. “I’ve seen you wearing them. That night…”
“I wasn’t actually wearing these, I was wearing…” How did he explain that? “I’d made magical representations of them and put their power in them.”
“That’s why they’re empty?”
“Yeah.” They were. They felt empty to him. When he felt better he’d change that. He’d put the pieces back together; give the jewelry back their souls. For the moment he just put the bracelet on. The weight was familiar on his wrist, even though he knew the value was in the one no one could see on this plane of existence. “Would you?” He handed her the necklace and she did it up around his neck.
“They’re special?” She moved around to face him.
“They belonged to my parents. My mother made this out of the bones of dead ravens that she found. It was her way of letting my father know that she accepted and respected who he was and what he did.”
“You father was a witch, and he died because of the curse.”
“Yeah, I hardly remember him.”
Her hand slid over her stomach. “Oskar…”
With his good arm, he pulled her close. She rested her head against his chest. “It’s a girl. I’m no longer cursed. I’m not going to die and leave you.” He kissed her hair and she turned her face to brush her lips over his. It was now or never. “I love you.”
The silence was complete. He could hear his heart beating. One, two, three.
“Really?”
Not what he’d expected. He cupped her cheek. “Yes, really.”
She smiled. “I love you, too. I was so scared you were going to die, or that you wouldn’t want me.”
“I do want you. We can discover how to live again—together.”
Epilogue
Six months later
The leaves in Central Park were turning orange. Even though fall had started, life was still everywhere. At first it had scared her. All the people in New York City, the people in the park, even all the squirrels. It was too much. But every day Oskar had taken her out and it had gotten easier. She knew how to catch a taxi or the subway and how to use a cell phone.
Seeing a picture of their baby on the ultrasound was something she’d have never been able to imagine. It had been magical. She glanced over at him. He didn’t look like a witch, and yet, she knew it was so deeply ingrained in him it was like another sense or a limb. Gaining his full initiation had meant so much to him, as if he was finally an accepted member of the coven. Without his magic, he wouldn’t be her Oskar.
“Are you going to tell me what the surprise is?” She smiled and hoped he’d spill. He often bought her something new and interesting. She’d spent hours at the museum, longer pouring over history books, any books. She still had so much to learn, but it no longer scared her.
“Nope. You have to wait until we get there.”
“That’s not fair.”
He grinned. “You’ll like it, trust me.” He tugged her along. “Close your eyes and don’t peek.”
She shut her eyes and let him guide her up what felt like a small hill. She stumbled once, but his arm was around her waist to stabilize but not control her. While she’d tried to find her footing in the world, Oskar had to find a purpose now that his uncle was dead. So far that had meant helping her and preparing for the baby around working for the Uncommon Raven Agency. But he was also thinking about doing some medical training, paramedic he’d called them. Whatever he did, he’d succeed. She had no doubt about that.
They stopped walking and he whispered in her ear. “Okay, you can open your eyes.”
On the other side of the rise was the coven. The men with wives had brought them, and everyone held a lit, white candle. In the middle of the circle was what looked like a broom and a wide, red ribbon.
“Is that a…?” He wanted to marry her the old way in front of his coven. His coven had accepted her as part of his life. She’d been sure some of them still thought her that poor wretch who’d needed to be saved. Maybe she’d been wrong since they’d gone to the effort of gathering to welcome her into their lives, not that she’d ever be part of the coven.
Oskar clasped both of her hands. “Will you jump over the broom with me?”<
br />
“I thought we were going to the registry office tomorrow?”
“We are, but I thought we could do it properly first.”
She flung her arms around her neck, well aware of the baby swelling her stomach between them. “Yes.”
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Read on for an excerpt of Hunted, book 2 in the Coven of the Raven series.
Hunted
People coming to the Uncommon Raven Agency for protection, are at the end of the line.
Noah Kelly takes the cases no other bodyguard will, the ones where demons are hunting the victim. Trouble is, he’s never managed to stop a demon from killing. Not even to save the girlfriend whose murder he was acquitted of four years ago. Since then he’s been determinedly single as he tries to find a way to stop demons and ease his guilt.
Rachel Jarrett knew she was in trouble when the divorce lawyer she’d been dealing with is found dead—his limbs torn off. She runs, desperate to flee her husband, and finds herself at the Uncommon Raven Agency in the hands of a man with his own secrets. When she tells Noah what she’s seen he doesn’t laugh. He talks about possession.
For Noah, falling into bed with a client was always going to be bad news, but when her ex is a demon it could be fatal.
Chapter 1
Rachel had walked past the building several times over the last three days but had never stopped. This evening the light was on and spilling through the window and onto the footpath. People brushed past her on their way home, or to the subway, or maybe going to grab some dinner. They were getting on with their lives while she was running from hers. She glanced over her shoulder, a nasty habit she was developing, but no one was looking at the casually dressed woman staring at the door; she was just another person bundled up against the cold, hoping to hide amongst the millions of New York City.
Why had she stopped this time? Was it the silhouette of the bird, black against the golden light, that drew her gaze? She scanned the writing beneath. They offered women’s self-defense classes and martial arts training. She didn’t want self-defense classes and she didn’t have the time to learn a martial art. If her husband—ex-husband if he ever signed the papers—found her, none of that would help. She swallowed and tried not to think of Cory’s rage and his burning of the papers. He’d stormed out of the house, and the divorce lawyer had been found dismembered the next day. She knew Cory had done it even though there was no evidence linking him to the crime. Since then she’d been running, not wanting to be next.
The last line of writing caught her eye: Personal protection services.
All that went on behind one plain door at the Uncommon Raven Agency. She glanced up at the rest of the building. It was nothing special, just another non-descript, brown apartment block. It looked as though there were flats upstairs—curtains on the windows, lights on in some. Someone bumped into her and she jumped, expecting the worst. It was getting dark. She should get back to the hostel. It had been three days since she’d come to New York. She was living on cash so Cory couldn’t track her by her withdrawals. She’d ditched her old sim card and bought a pre-paid one. Told her parents Cory was trying to find her and that he was dangerous.
Instead of offering their support, they had told her off for leaving him when he needed her most. Cory was the injured hometown hero, the local boy who’d hit the big time and been a professional quarterback. He was beloved by everyone, including her, once. She’d married him with stars in her eyes. Seven years later he wasn’t the man she’d married.
He hadn’t been for about twelve months, not since the accident.
She shivered and tried to blame it on the winter chill. The Uncommon Raven Agency building looked warm and safe, but she couldn’t afford their protection. The account she’d set up only months ago didn’t have enough in it. She hadn’t planned on leaving so soon. She hadn’t expected Cory to react so violently to her desire to leave. In the same breath she admitted she couldn’t afford help, she realized that she didn’t want to die, either, which was exactly what Cory had promised to do if she didn’t stop divorce proceedings.
After what she’d seen, and the more frequent outings of his darker side, there was no way in hell she was going to stay. Perhaps she should have left the first time, but that would have simply fuelled the gossip mill of Liberty. For the last two years he’d forbidden her from working, so she had no money of her own; the papers were simply a request to get things moving so she could start again. Cory had reacted badly. He saw losing her as a sign of weakness.
He hadn’t lost her; he’d pushed her out of his life. They may have lived under the same roof, but they rarely spoke and they hadn’t shared a bedroom in months.
The cops didn’t want to get involved. He burned some papers, so what? There was no history of abuse, and Cory was a local hero. Over reacting. Just an argument, they said. He had the whole of Liberty charmed with his smile. However, it no longer blinded her. She’d seen the dark glint in his eye and the curl of his lip, and while he’d had an alibi for the lawyer’s death, he’d smiled as if he’d done it and knew he was untouchable. Maybe he was. Which meant she might as well give up and become a statistic.
She took a step towards the door; maybe they could offer some advice?
She didn’t need to tell them Cory was a quarterback, on the rise again after what should have been a career-ending injury—a miraculous recovery and a darkening of his personality. No one else saw it, but she did. She lived it. While he’d always loved the spotlight, he had become obsessed, convinced people were plotting against him and paranoid that she was cheating—to the point she couldn’t even go out with girlfriends or see her parents without him following her. She couldn’t live like that.
And she didn’t want to live always looking over her shoulder, either. In her gut she knew Cory would never let her go, losing his wife would be a public loss of face. She was supposed to hang off his arm and smile on cue. Surely his popularity and reach couldn’t extend this far? She should be safe here.
But she still needed to reissue the divorce papers, she needed a job and money, and as soon as she started to settle he’d find her. With a final glance into the crowd to make sure she wasn’t being followed, she pushed open the door and then stepped inside.
It was warm and bright, and for the first time in seven days she felt safe. The door shut behind her and a small smile formed as she unbuttoned her charcoal grey winter coat. It was a stupid feeling, really. How could stepping into an office building make her feel safe? There was nothing special about it, it wasn’t big or fancy, just a plain reception area. There was a stand of flyers on one side below an old picture of a man in a white karate suit holding a small child. The desk that sat to one side was unoccupied, a computer and cell phone sat on the desk. Weren’t they worried someone would walk through the door and steal them?
“Hello?” She pressed the bell on the desk. From the back she could hear voices but couldn’t make out the words.
Maybe there was a class on. Rachel hesitated, not sure what to do. Should she wait or go have a look? Maybe she should just leave. It was a dumb idea anyway. It wasn’t as though they were going to help her for free.
She turned around to leave. Rain spattered the glass window. Great. If she hadn’t stopped, she’d have been back at the hostel already.
“Can I help you?”
Rachel turned at the voice. She hadn’t heard him approach. She should have. He was a solid, older man, his hair almost all grey. He wore shorts and a singlet and his skin was sheened in sweat. And he radiated power. Some guys tried to be threatening, this man just stood there almost glowing with power. She didn’t belong in here. Her mouth dried.
“I um…I’m sorry for interrupting.
” She shouldn’t have come in; he’d obviously forgotten to lock the door. “I saw the sign and the door was open.”
“I was expecting someone.” His gaze drifted over her as if looking for something, and she had the distinct impression that he’d been expecting her and was now assessing her. How was that possible?
She took a step back. Her life had been weird lately but this was really pushing the boundary, and yet, while she should be running, she still didn’t feel threatened, just uncomfortable. It was too warm in here to be wearing her coat. She was sure her face was turning red. She shifted her stance, glad to be wearing runners instead of Cory’s required heels. He’d hate her going out in public looking like this, dressing down, not looking the part of being his perfect wife. She’d bought these clothes without his approval. It had felt damn good. “I should go.”
“Why did you come in?”
She paused. Did it really matter? She didn’t know how to say what was wrong with her life. It sounded wrong, even to her. She’d had the perfect life in Liberty. Women had envied her. She rolled a few ideas around, wishing she’d done this before she’d come in. I’d like some advice on how to stay hidden from my ex. I need help. Please stop him from finding me and killing me. Yeah, people were going to line up for that job…
And yet he hadn’t asked her to leave, and he hadn’t said they were closed. She drew in a breath and decided to go with the truth. “I think I need help.”
“What kind of help?” He looked genuinely interested.
She shoved her hands into her pockets and glanced at the floor. “My husband is trying to kill me.” Then she lifted her gaze a fraction to judge his reaction.
He lifted his eyebrows. “That’s no small problem.”
Rachel waited for him to say something else, for him to turn her out onto the street. Instead he stood there looking at her. She swallowed and nodded. “No, it’s not.” And her husband wasn’t a small man, either. “He flipped when I started divorce proceedings, and I’ve been on the run for the last week.”