Coven of the Raven: box set

by Shona Husk

  He put the blanket over Alexis, his claws catching in the cloth, and readied to face the goddesses in his living room. Hopefully they hadn’t started up on each other again. He listened but couldn’t hear any squawks or yowls. Both animals were sitting where they’d been when he left the room. The cat was licking itself and the bird was preening.

  He had no idea how this next step was going to happen. “Alexis is unconscious.”

  Both animals looked at him. The goddesses were in the room, but they weren’t going to talk to him like this. He sighed, then flipped the sofa so it was upright—which was far easier than it would’ve been had he been fully human. He still had to solve his appearance, but that would have to wait.

  He sat on the sofa. He didn’t need to go deep enough into himself to work magic, just enough that the Morrigu and Freya could reach him. While he was used to the Morrigu, he wasn’t sure about meeting Freya in that place.

  The barren field appeared before him. In the distance there was green and cattle, here there was only bleached skeletons. The Morrigu strode toward him, cloak flapping like wings and Her hair streaming behind Her. She wasn’t young and beautiful, but older, wiser, fiercer.

  “Freya will join us. This ground is neutral.”

  A blonde woman dressed in green picked Her way over, Her hand clasped over Her stomach, stemming the flow of blood. Her wound wept, but She seemed to be faring much better than a human with a gut wound. Dust clung to the hem of Her dress and a heavy amber necklace hung around Her neck. She wasn’t here as a warrior—for that he was glad.

  “I will bring Alexis here,” The Morrigu said. As soon as Her words were complete, Alexis appeared.

  Peyton wore a suit—it was the armor he wore on a daily basis and how he chose to appear here. But even here he was part hellhound. His hands were tipped with claws and his face pushed forward in a muzzle. It no longer felt as odd as it once had.

  He’d thought Alexis would be wearing office clothing, but she wasn’t. She was wearing that dress, the slinky, almost-sheer one she’d worn in the club. Her hair was loose, tumbling over her shoulders, and her eyes were blue, with round pupils. Her face had lost the edge and glow that housing a goddess had given her. Instead she was not quite solid, the missing part of her soul giving her a transparency that would take time to heal.

  A smile formed on his lips.

  Alexis didn’t return it. She crossed her arms. “Where am I?”

  “At a meeting place where we can communicate with you,” the Morrigu said.

  “And why is he here…and you?” Alexis glanced at Peyton and then the Morrigu.

  “To negotiate the deal between you and Freya.” The Morrigu indicated to Freya.

  Alexis still looked wary, but she fixed him with a glare. “Why couldn’t you leave me alone? I was having fun.”

  “Freya was killing you.” How many times did he need to say it before she’d understand?

  “Not deliberately, that is just a side effect,” Freya unhelpfully added.

  He wanted this over. “If you want to give your life to Freya you can, but let’s make it legal so there’s no repercussions later.”

  “What do you mean?” Alexis glanced at the two goddesses.

  “Freya can reside in you, but your soul will be consumed. No afterlife, no rebirth if that’s what you choose. Nothing. Some people freak out right at the end when the last spark is almost out.” But the contracts were binding.

  “I thought we had a verbal contract… You did the spell with your coven and accepted me so that you could get him.” Freya gave Peyton a disdainful glare. “I don’t get the fuss.”

  Peyton’s lips thinned. That isn’t what She’d been saying earlier in his bed.

  “It wasn’t a real coven. I never expected the magic to work. I just wanted to be noticed and live.” She ran her hands over the dress and paused. “I did have fun, didn’t I? Am I dead already?”

  “You’re alive and resting.” The Morrigu touched Alexis’ shoulder. “I brought you here so you could talk with us about what happens next. Your coven was practicing magic without understanding the dangers.”

  “What dangers? He’s a witch.” Alexis pointed at Peyton. “He’s not even human.”

  “I trained for many years and always have…had…” He glanced at the Morrigu. “…a goddess to channel the magic and make it safe.” Now he had his own magic. He didn’t need a goddess…but he wanted Her. He wanted to be part of the coven the way he hadn’t been in too many years.

  The Morrigu smiled at him.

  Alexis frowned. “I thought the spell made me braver.”

  “That was me, but when in your skin I can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. So it was all you, just with no inhibitions,” Freya purred.

  Alexis wouldn’t even meet his gaze. He didn’t blame her. There could be no hiding behind the old excuse of being possessed—that wasn’t even a good excuse as all witches knew the being doing the possessing only brought out traits that already existed.

  “I enjoy being in your skin. We can do it again if you give yourself over to me.” Freya stepped toward Alexis, but the Morrigu put a hand out to stop her.

  “Wait, sister.”

  “I don’t want to die,” Alexis said. “I wanted to be brave and have fun and be more than boring, secretary Alexis.”

  “I like secretary Alexis.” But she may not like him now she knew the truth.

  Alexis looked at him but said nothing. He didn’t blame her. Her gaze darted to Freya. “This is all real.”

  Peyton nodded. “Yes…though not everyone can sense magic or use it. You have witch blood in you.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you need a goddess to channel magic through,” Freya said.

  “What if I don’t want to be a witch?”

  “You’ve already seen and felt the truth. You can’t go back. Do you really want to go back?” The Morrigu lifted an eyebrow.

  Alexis bit her lip. “No.”

  “Aren’t we supposed to be discussing my claim on the body?” Freya’s fingers glistened red with blood.

  “Peyton, your solution?” The Morrigu’s hand rested casually on Her sword’s pommel.

  He was regretting that wild idea now. “Yes…perhaps Freya would like to go to a swingers club…say once a month for a year?”

  “There are thirteen lunar cycles,” Freya said.

  “Wait…what if I don’t want to give over my body again?”

  Freya scowled. “You called to me and accepted me.”

  “I didn’t know I’d die and never get an afterlife of any kind.”

  “Well what did you think would happen?” Freya snapped.

  “I don’t know!” Alexis stepped back and then ran. But there was nowhere to go. Every time she stopped, she ended up back here. He’d tried running once. Every witch did, he was sure. They waited for her to realize that, until negotiations were done, there was nowhere to run to. He couldn’t fix everything. Alexis had made this mess and had to help with the clean up.

  Alexis panted and stopped trying to flee. Her eyebrows were pinched together and she couldn’t look any of them in the eye.

  The Morrigu’s face softened and became younger. “You have never been trained to use the magic in your blood. You have power but swing it wildly, inflicting damage. A warrior should always be trained.”

  “I have no coven where you live,” Freya said.

  “I can take her and train her,” the Morrigu offered, Her face hardening once more to the warrior-in-battle look.

  “She is mine,” Freya said with more force.

  “I’m no one’s.” But Alexis didn’t sound sure.

  Peyton shook his head. “You need a god or goddess to channel the magic safely. You can work alone once trained, but it’s better to have friends who understand. You can choose the deity you work with. It doesn’t have to be either of them.”

  But if she chose another it would be harder to find her a
teacher. Witches tended to keep to themselves these days. The burnings had made sure of that, as well as wiping out centuries of lore, all because one god couldn’t handle people worshipping others.

  “Do I have to decide now?”

  “No,” Peyton said, but both goddesses said yes.

  Alexis studied the two goddesses. “Because of the spell, I owe Freya?”

  “Yes,” the Morrigu said. “Letting a goddess into your skin the way you did is very serious.”

  “But I won’t owe Her forever?”

  “No…but if you choose to work with Her you will always have a connection to Her. But as witch and goddess it will be different to being possessed,” the Morrigu said.

  “This is the formal contract that will give Freya a limited time to occupy you. Short enough that you won’t be harmed, but long enough for Her to have fun. This is the only way She’d leave you without killing you.” He had to make sure Alexis understood that some kind of agreement had to be reached.

  Alexis considered him for a moment. “Once a month for thirteen months, no longer?”

  “Lunar cycles,” Peyton corrected.

  “And just the night, say six till six?” Alexis glanced at him.

  Peyton nodded. “That sounds reasonable, but if you really don’t want to do this we can find another solution. Freya wants to use your body like She did in the nightclub. She wants to soak up sexual energy.”

  He didn’t really want to think about what would happen if Freya went to a swingers club wearing Alexis’ skin.

  Alexis smiled, just a small one, and he knew she was thinking about what had happened. Her tongue swept over her lip. “That was fun. I felt so vibrant. It’s me but not me.”

  “Hmm. I think you are Freya’s, not mine.” The Morrigu almost sounded sad. She glanced at Freya. “Can we agree she is trained with mine since you have no one?”

  “Yes, but your warrior will accompany her to the clubs. Otherwise there will be no fun had.”

  Peyton was about to say no; the word was on his tongue before the Morrigu cut him off.

  “That is agreeable, and penance will be considered served.” The Morrigu smiled at him, but her eyes were as cold as an icy blade.

  Peyton shut his mouth. At least he’d be there to make sure Freya behaved Herself. He was done with arguing about his life with his goddess. She knew best. He just had to trust Her plan.

  “I will return for the contract when Alexis wakes.” Then Freya vanished, leaving only a blood stain in the dirt.

  Alexis glanced at him and then the Morrigu. “You can’t leave him like that. It’s not…” Alexis looked away. “He won’t be able to go out in public.”

  Peyton stared at the ground. He knew what he was. Now that Alexis wasn’t being ridden by a goddess, she was horrified. He was hideous. The power rumbled within him, feeling like he was holding a thunderstorm. The sky darkened as clouds gathered.

  The Morrigu considered him for a moment. “I do not find it displeasing. It’s a powerful form, one men have risked death to wear in the past. It is not up to me how Peyton appears here, but him.”

  Peyton lifted his head. Alexis wouldn’t look at him. “I am still a man, Alexis. But I have the power of a hellhound.”

  He could touch the raw elements of magic like a god. Drag shadows to mask himself and cross continents as though they were made of yards not miles. He was a witch, and here in this place where goddesses could take shape, this would be his form. He wouldn’t hide from what he was anymore.

  Alexis looked at him as if she barely knew him. She didn’t, not really.

  “Our business is done.” The Morrigu clasped Alexis’ hand and they both vanished, leaving him amongst the white bones of long-dead cattle.

  He sat on a skull, not sure what to do next. He should go back to his body and check on Alexis, but he didn’t know what do to with her. After everything that had happened, he’d totally understand if she never wanted to see him again. But they were stuck seeing each other for the next thirteen lunar cycles, which could be extremely awkward.

  And he was back to being a witch again. He’d let the hellhound free…and it didn’t feel at all wrong. He howled at the darkening sky, and the sky responded with thunder and rain. He bathed in the storm and watched as grass grew in what had been barren land.

  As he stood there in the rain, the cattle on the hill made their way toward him. He shifted fully so he could run as far as he could on four legs, knowing he’d always return to the Morrigu’s herd.

  Chapter 12

  Alexis woke up with the worst hangover of her life and her body feeling like a truck had hit her and dragged her under the wheels for a bit. There was an ache in her chest that made it hard to breathe and she had no idea where she was, only that she was alone and totally naked.

  She pulled the dark grey sheets tighter around herself and closed her eyes. The bed smelled like serious, non-floral, male soap and a little like sex and sweat. Oh god, what had she done? She just needed a moment to pull her thoughts together because what her brain was throwing at her was making about as much sense as a D-grade horror movie where she had the starring role.

  Werewolves and goddesses and killer cats all tumbled through her thoughts.

  But there were some of Peyton too, naked, and they were doing things that definitely didn’t belong in horror movies, except maybe they did because he wasn’t exactly human. She shuddered and wondered what she’d drunk. Or what had been put in her drink.

  She needed to find some clothes and hail a cab.

  Keeping the sheet close, she slipped out of the bed and padded around the room. Tossed on the floor was something that looked familiar: a very slinky, barely-there dress. She picked it up.

  Oh dear. This was a dress from her dream. She’d gone to a very posh nightclub and well, she kind of had the feeling that things had gotten rather out of hand with Peyton. Had that actually…? Was she in his bedroom?

  She looked wildly around for a clue, but there was no clothing on the floor and nothing personal on the bedside table besides a notebook and light. She was tempted to look inside but the large surreal painting of a crow that hung above the bed seemed to be giving her the eye. Unwilling to put on the dress that would give less coverage than the sheet, she arranged the sheet as more of a garment.

  Someone knocked on the door, which wasn’t closed properly.

  “Um…come in.” There was nowhere else for her to go.

  Then Peyton was filling the doorway. He was wearing track pants and a T-shirt and didn’t look at all like a creature from a horror movie. He had no claws and no muzzle, and his skin wasn’t grey. What was real and what wasn’t?

  “How did you know I was awake?”

  “Your cat,” he said, as though it were obvious.

  “I have a cat?” She didn’t remember having a cat.

  “You do now.”

  The cat wandered into the room, smooched her ankles and sat on the sheet. It was a lovely British Blue, just like her grandmother had bred. “When did I get a cat?”

  “How much do you remember?”

  It was starting to feel like too much. It couldn’t be real. Her mind had made up a bunch of stuff, that was all. “Define remember?”

  His lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t need to say anything.

  “It all happened.” Just admitting it made the memories sharper and more real. “And magic and goddesses and witches?”

  “All real.” And he was completely serious.

  “Shit.” The cat was making itself comfy on the end of her sheet, so she couldn’t even escape to the bathroom without dragging it along for a ride, not that she knew where the bathroom was. “So everything was real. We…I mean…ohhh.” Her legs went, and she joined the cat on the floor. How was she ever going to face him again? His feet hadn’t moved; he was still standing there.

  Then his knees dropped to the floor and he sat with her. “I didn’t know you were possessed until after several days, but once I wor
ked it out—”

  “You still slept with me.” That was wrong. She’d liked it, but he shouldn’t have.

  “I only worked it out after the first time. Before that I believed you were trying something new and that your coven had done some spell.”

  “And the second time?”

  He managed to look abashed as he looked at the floor. “That was more a case of trying to protect you. Freya burned up a bit of my soul and life instead of yours.”

  “You let her eat part of your soul? For me?”

  “It’ll grow back. And there wasn’t much else I could do at the time. Witches aren’t all powerful. Neither are goddesses.” He looked up. “They can’t make you do things you don’t want to do.” He reached out a hand. “You didn’t burn down your life, but I’m not sure about your credit cards.”

  Alexis cradled her head. She really needed a coffee or three, or to go back to sleep and find that it was all just a dream. Wait until she told Bethany what her spell had done…but did she really want to share that? Would Bethany laugh?

  Sitting in front of her was a real witch, one who handled magic with caution and, if her memory was to be believed, had faced two goddesses to protect her when all she’d wanted was the power and revelry that Freya had given her at the cost of her life.

  Her fingers strayed to the cat. It purred as though everything was right in the world. Except it never would be. She knew things that few wanted to believe. She glanced at Peyton from beneath her lashes. “Can you really…” She waved her hand over her face. Was he a werewolf?

  He nodded. “I was bitten by a hellhound a few years ago. I don’t usually shift but there are side effects around the full moon.”

  “Side effects?”

  “My hair and nails grow really quickly.”

  “Wait, hellhound?” How was that even thing? Did they actually roam the streets?

  “They exist, not usually on this plane of existence, but my coven and I were trying to catch one before it could kill again and I got bitten and almost died from the bite. It’s a story best told over coffee, if you really want to know.”