Coven of the Raven: box set

by Shona Husk

  And all the witches that had been involved made sure they had alibis that were water tight. He wouldn’t need one this time because he’d be dead. He was almost one hundred percent sure about that.

  She smiled, her hand cupping his jaw. “This is about helping people for you, not revenge.”

  He kissed her palm and got out of bed, glad she understood the difference. One of them had to make the first move or they’d stay there all day, and he wanted to be the one setting the time and place of his next meeting with Cory. “He’s an addict pumped on demon juice, without realizing how dangerous that is.”

  “Let’s hope he realizes what’s going on and gives it up, but knowing Cory, I don’t like your chances.”

  “Neither do I.” After his last encounter, he suspected Cory would rather die than give up his demon, but he was willing to try to save an unnecessary death. “I’m working on plan B.” He glanced at her, could he kill to save her? He wasn’t ready to answer that yet, and he didn’t know how to kill a demon. “Did you want to use the bathroom before I shower?”

  “Are you going to be half an hour?”

  He shook his head. “I want to be out of here in half an hour.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait. What’s plan B going to be?”

  “Stand and fight.” Which he knew from experience never went well, although this time they knew what was driving Cory. How did he make a spell to counteract the jealousy?

  Chapter 15

  The coffee wasn’t helping Noah think, but it was warming him up. He was over winter and rain. Rachel didn’t seem bothered. She was walking down the sidewalk as though she knew where she was going, her bag slung over her shoulder. She wasn’t acting like a woman living her last few days. He admired that; plenty of other people would’ve been a blubbering mess. For the moment, he was happy to follow, as long as they were moving and sticking to the busier streets where they could blend in with the other shoppers, tourists and locals.

  They had to keep moving until he knew where he wanted to stop and what he was going to do. He checked his watch again. He’d call the coven shortly and that would help. In the meantime, he was just concentrating on confusing their trail. By the time he was done running with Rachel, he’d have covered New York in flour—although he was almost sure he could do the spell without the prop. Now, however, wasn’t a good time to test that theory.

  “Wow.” Rachel had stopped and was looking in the window of a shoe shop. But not any old shoe shop. This was the Serulean she’d mentioned. Shoes with a name like that wouldn’t be cheap.

  “You have got to be joking.” There was no way he was going in there, especially not with a demon searching for them—he tried not to imagine the carnage a demon attack would do in a shop like that.

  “It’s on my list.” Her eyes were wide and her voice was a little awestruck.

  He tried to steer her away from the store; shoe shopping wasn’t on his list—his really short list. “You are going to survive and have one massive credit card bill. Let’s get you a passport instead.” That would be infinitely more useful, and maybe it could be rushed through and they could get out of America and buy some extra time. But even as he thought it, the idea of being in a foreign country with no coven and no backup when the demon did catch up lost its appeal. It would go a hell of a lot worse for them overseas.

  She shook her head, strands of her hair falling around her face. “I want a pair of these before I die.”

  “We aren’t dressed for this.” They were in jeans and jackets. Maybe they looked like tourists, but they certainly didn’t look like a wealthy couple looking to make a chip in the credit card. One look at them and the sale assistant would be thinking they were there to steal shoes, not buy them.

  “I don’t care.” She pulled away and walked in, leaving him in front of the window holding his lukewarm coffee.

  He feigned nonchalance and finished his drink before tossing it in a nearby trash can. The demon string around his wrist wasn’t as cool as he’d have liked, but it wasn’t hot, either. He casually scanned the street, but there was no sign of Cory, not yet anyway. Shoes, and then they were getting a cab across a few blocks before the string got hot and they made eye contact with Cory. They could zigzag across the city and make Cory run to keep up. It was a stalling tactic, but it would also piss off the demon that was stalking them like a bloodhound on crack.

  With a final glance up the street, his gaze catching on any person whose head was above the average, he turned and walked into the shop. Rachel was chatting to the woman, talking shoes.

  “Sweetie, I was just telling Lara how we were here on holiday and I had to stop in and get some shoes to remember the trip by.”

  Noah gave a tight smile. Great, Rachel was throwing around lies like confetti while he was surrounded by spikey shoes that would make excellent weapons. Some of those heels were long enough to smash through an eye and into the brain…enough to kill, or just enrage a man possessed by a demon? Would Rachel let him get brain on her shoes if it came to that?

  Judging by the way she was fondling the shoes, probably not. It would be easier to apologize after the fact. As much as he’d told Rachel he wouldn’t kill, he would if he had to. It just wouldn’t be his first option. He had to give Cory a chance to, as his uncle would say, repent.

  He glanced at Rachel, now sitting down trying on shoes. She was admiring her feet as they contorted into a shape not conducive to running from demons, but he was sure she knew that. She’d said she wanted a pair, not that she was going to wear them. He hoped she wasn’t going to wear them; if she wanted shoes to wear, there were a few flats she could choose from.

  The string on his wrist was getting a little warmer. He gazed out the window, pretending to be bored, not alert. He needed to calibrate the heat so he knew when to run like the devil was on his heels. If they were caught in the shop, it would be bad. He hadn’t had a chance to try out his fire yet. He knew the feel of anger fuel, hot and fast. What did the joy of living feel like as fire? While he knew the spell would work, he wasn’t sure how to control the modified version. That was something he was going to have to try out. There was no way he’d stage a confrontation without knowing how his weapons worked—there’d be no invisible, magical knives this time, either. He wasn’t risking that again.

  “So what do you think?”

  “That we should get a move on.” He turned to face her.

  Rachel held a different shoe in each hand. “Which pair?”

  He really didn’t care. His wrist was getting warmer—was it five-hundred-yards warm or less-than-one-hundred-yards warm? “Where are you going to wear them?” There was no way she’d be outrunning Cory in either pair as both had impossibly high, spiky heals. He had been hoping she’d pick a pair of flats.

  She leaned in close and whispered, “Which pair would you like by your ears?”

  That’s when she was planning on wearing them. The demon string wasn’t the only part that was getting warm. He glanced at the black ankle boot that looked like something the Morrigu would wear and then the red, swirly creation. “The red ones.” Definitely the red ones.

  “I knew you’d say that.” She grinned and walked back to the sales assistant who boxed them up, real careful.

  Hurry up. The string wasn’t getting any colder. Rachel paid, still talking to the woman, before finally picking up her bag and asking if he was ready.

  He smiled at her and kept up the happy couple act, looping his arm through hers and guiding her out the door as fast as he could. He took a moment to scan the sidewalk on both sides of the road. “Cory is close.”

  She went rigid beside him, her head turning as she searched for him. “Why didn’t you say?”

  “I just did.” Plus he hadn’t really wanted to spoil her fun. There was going to be little enough after tonight. “We need a cab.”

  He concentrated on the string. From which direction was Cory coming? It was hard to tell.

  Rachel was moving toward the road w
ith her hand in the air and a cab was slowing.

  Guess it didn’t matter since they were leaving.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as she got in.

  Great question. He had no idea. The cabbie turned, waiting for direction, the string became uncomfortably hot—Cory had to be close. Then Noah saw him, walking down the sidewalk like he owned it. People were actually getting out of his way as if they knew he was bad news. Noah thought fast. “Washington Square Park.”

  Rachel raised one eyebrow, but he put a hand on her leg to stop questions. He gave a slight nod toward the front of the car where Cory was walking down the street, head swinging from side to side as if looking for something, a scent, them. But the cabbie was already driving and Noah was drawing up a quick camouflage circle around him and Rachel—hopefully it would suffice. When Cory didn’t look into the cab, Noah let the tension and the circle drop. The cabbie looked a little startled and Noah wondered what he’d seen, or hadn’t seen. He simply smiled and gave Rachel’s leg a light squeeze as if they were nothing but a happy couple.

  While the park wasn’t as far away as he’d have liked, it was very public and had a church and bars nearby. All of which he might need in the next few hours.

  She refused to look out of the window as they passed Cory. Kept her eyes forward and tried to keep her heart calm. That didn’t work, of course, but it made her feel as though she was facing up to her fear instead of giving into it. What she would have liked to do was duck down and hide completely, but that might have been a little obvious. Besides, Noah was leaning back and looking completely relaxed—except for the way he touched his wrist.

  When they’d gone a couple of blocks, she began to relax a little. That had been too close. She shouldn’t have spent so long choosing shoes, but there’d been so many and it was on her list and she hadn’t wanted to rush. So pretty and colorful and completely impractical, but the look on Noah’s face when she’d asked him which pair had been priceless. Boredom and concern had given way to surprise and desire. The shoes had been worth it just for that moment.

  She looked out the window as heat crept over her cheeks. This was so stupid, being chased all over the city by her husband, ex-husband if she had her way. She glanced at the cabbie and then Noah. His hand was on the box of shoes that had nearly brought a Cory confrontation, his backpack was on the floor with her bag, but he wasn’t here in the car. He had that faraway look and she wondered what magic he was working.

  When the cab stopped, he paid and they got out.

  “Wait,” she said as they reached the first trash can. Then she chucked the bag and box and put the shoes into her bag. It hurt putting them in unprotected, but the box was too bulky and she wanted her hands free.

  He touched her arm. “Come on, let’s grab a seat in the park while I make a phone call.”

  “Calling for help?”

  “Can’t do an intervention on my own.”

  She frowned and looked at him. “We can’t stall any longer?”

  “He’s getting faster at catching up with us. I want to pick the place, not be caught off guard.”

  “I’m sorry about the shoes.” It had been so nice to be in the store and trying them on, she could have easily spent twice the amount of time there deliberating.

  He gave a low laugh. “I really hope they are worth it later.”

  At least he wasn’t planning on either of them dying while he explained possession to Cory. That was reassuring. “So how many witches do you need?”

  “I want two; you’ll be with Peyton.”

  She stopped walking. “Why will I be with him?” She didn’t know him. What if he was creepy like Sawyer?

  “I don’t want you there. Cory wants you, and if he sees you he’ll ignore everything I have to say.”

  “Can’t you just magic him into listening?”

  Noah shook his head. “Free will.” He took her hand and she let him pull her on. “I can’t force him to listen, but I can talk.”

  “Like leading a horse to water?” Would Cory listen, or just demand her return?

  “Exactly.”

  And if Cory refused to drink, or shake off his demon, what then? She hoped Noah had another idea or a plan of attack, because they were running out of time and options.

  “I thought magic was more powerful.” She’d been hoping Noah would save her with a wave of his wand…not that he had one. So far her brushes with magic had been not what she’d been expecting. They’d been subtle, no puffs of smoke or explosions of color. She’d been expecting magic to fix everything.

  He dropped his bag onto a bench. “What is your definition of power? I can tap directly into the energy of the gods through the Morrigu. I could raze this park because I control fire. Sawyer can strip the magic from an artifact and use it himself, or put it into something else, and Peyton makes blood deals that even the devil would have a hard time getting out of.” He looked at her. “You’ve seen too much TV. Magic isn’t like that. It still obeys the rules of physics. Energy can’t be created or destroyed, only used and made into another form.”

  “Can anyone be a witch?” What she really wanted to know was could she learn to protect herself.

  “How do you use any sense? It’s always been there for me. I learned how to channel it effectively and safely. These days most could-be witches don’t recognize it for what it is. For some it goes away if not used, for others it drives them mad.” He looked at her. “You could try learning, those without it in their blood give up because they get no result. It’s like trying to crack atoms with your mind. Not everyone has the will to do that.”

  “You’re saying I don’t.” She was just a regular old human with no magic. Dull, drab and grey. “What about Cory?”

  Noah frowned and tilted his head a fraction. “I don’t know.” But she saw something in his face, a question that needed to be pinned down. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I need to give the Ravens the heads up that I need them. Why don’t you check your phone for a café or something?”

  She nodded. He was back on the job, and she was the package to be delivered safely and nothing more. At least he was thinking about what needed to be done and not the shoes.

  He walked a few paces away, enough that he could talk without her overhearing, but close enough that he was still watching her and everyone who came close. As he talked he paced a little, nodded, frowned, cast his gaze over the area where she was sitting, looked at her for a moment, almost smiled and then turned his back again.

  She could call home, let her parents know where she was and that she was fine, tell them that Cory was trying to kill her. Would they believe her? She pressed her lips together and watched the people walking through the park. The way Noah would casually turn, as if engrossed in conversation, but was really watching everything. He didn’t look particularly happy, but then why would he. What he was planning was dangerous for everyone.

  He didn’t get paid enough for this. Professional athletes got millions, plus sponsorship deals, and here was a group of guys who were regularly lining up to face demons and other nasties she didn’t want to know about and no one was even saying thank you.

  She needed to say thank you.

  She watched as he paced through another few minutes of phone call, this time not even making eye contact with her. After he hung up, he took a moment before walking back over; the worry was gone, carefully hidden away, but she’d seen it and she understood the risks.

  “Thank you.” She blurted it out before he could speak.

  “I haven’t done anything yet.”

  “For trying, I mean really trying. You could have taken the money and let him get me.” They’d dodged Cory several times now, and it would have been so simple for Noah to walk away and leave her to her fate.

  “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did that—and that’s already tough some days.”

  She stood up and placed her hand on his arm. “It’s not hard to be around you at all.”r />
  His gaze met hers, steady and unwavering. When he’d first looked at her like that she’d wanted to look away. Now she wanted to let herself sink into those endless blue depths.

  It was Noah who blinked and turned his head away. “We’re going to try a lunchtime hit. Cory should have caught up with us by then.”

  She nodded, her mouth dry and her body numb. She needed to sit back down but somehow remained standing. That soon. If plan A failed they were down to plan B, and plan B would involve someone dying.

  Waiting always sucked. Noah took a drink of water and started unwrapping the packet of cigarettes he’d bought along with a chocolate bar and water. It was a lovely day for a change, sunshine and blue skies giving everyone hope that spring was on the way. The kind of day that was well and truly wasted waiting for a man and his demon to hunt them down.

  “You smoke?” Rachel’s gaze flicked between him and the packet.

  “Nope.” He scrunched up the wrapper and pulled out a cigarette. The sweet smell of dried tobacco blossomed from the packet. He’d been tempted during his teens, lots of guys were experimenting with the habit, alcohol and dope. He’d tried it once, but he’d felt the burn on the back of his throat and known it wasn’t for him, not if he wanted to play professionally. Baseball had kept him on a very narrow path. The Morrigu now did the same. He grinned at Rachel, who was still wondering why he was rolling a cigarette between his fingers. He didn’t smoke, but this wasn’t the first packet he’d bought. “Smoking is the only socially acceptable form of pyromania I know.”

  “Socially…what? You’re going to burn things?” Her eyes grew wider as she spoke.

  “You were the one saying magic wasn’t flashy enough and you wanted some sparks. Besides, if it all goes well, only the smokes will burn.” He really hoped that was all that he’d burn, but he wasn’t sure since the magic was now feeling different.

  She edged away, he kept smiling. “You didn’t buy a lighter.”

  “Don’t need one.”

  “Isn’t this a bit public for…you know?”