Coven of the Raven: box set

by Shona Husk

  She took a step back. What did the candle do?

  His house was filled with bits and bob. A dragon statue, a living air plant, a brass cat…her eyes scanned the bookshelves all them were littered with trinkets. Were they all magical?

  Anthony would be able to tell her with a touch. And he was gone because he’d touched the wrong object. Loss stabbed like a sword through her gut.

  The lock on the door clicked. Cosima dove for the baseball bat and hid out of sight. Her heart hammered.

  It was just Sawyer. They’d known each other for most of their lives. But she didn’t know him now. He was a witch and witches were the kind of men who cursed objects so innocents died.

  Oh, God. What if he had a girlfriend or boyfriend with him?

  Anthony had only told her about the two of them after she’d broken up with Sawyer. He hadn’t been bothered by them dating so he hadn’t said anything earlier. But it bothered her. Dating her brother’s ex-fling was wrong. If she’d known, she’d have never jumped into his bed and she wouldn’t be standing in his apartment with a baseball bat ready to beg for his help.

  Unfortunately, this was a little bit like their last fight except she’d been holding the sword they’d been stealing, and he’d been clutching his broken nose.

  Chapter 2

  Sawyer stood in the doorway of his apartment, tension coiling in his gut. Someone had invaded his home. The cheery scent of apple pie reinforced the warning his home wasn’t safe. If he was being robbed, the thief was being very quiet. But the odds of it being a thief were very small; his apartment was almost impossible to find because of the wards.

  The rolling pin in the bag was heavy and could prove useful, but he didn’t want to damage Rachel’s present given he’d actually paid for it. He drew the rolling pin and tested its weight.

  As he stepped through the door, Sawyer slid the cake stand to the corner where the umbrella and a walking stick lurked. Then he turned to face the thief. She was a punch to the heart he hadn’t been expecting.

  Cosima fucking Delany.

  She stood on the other side of the room, baseball bat in hand—his bat, so the fight wouldn’t last long. Her dark hair was short now. Her clothes were better, but the hard edge was still in her eyes, and she’d lost none of her fight and fury.

  His nose ached at the memory. It hadn’t been straight since.

  He shut the door but didn’t bother locking it. “Cosima.”

  She nodded. “Sawyer.”

  He held up the rolling pin and his other empty hand. “Shall we disarm and talk?”

  “I don’t know…how do I know you won’t kill me with a spell?”

  “Not what I do, those spells have a nasty kick back. You could’ve called.”

  “You’d have ignored me.”

  He would’ve. It wasn’t good practice to steal from friends, and she did. And she was never alone. Sawyer kept his back to the door. “Where’s Anthony?”

  The hard set of her lips faded into something closer to pain than rage. “Dead.”

  He shook his head. That wasn’t possible. Anthony had been the smiling one, the fun one. They hadn’t lasted long because they were far too alike and at eighteen, they’d only gotten together for one thing other than stealing. Cosima, though…she’d cut Sawyer’s heart out, broken his nose, and taken the sword. Anthony had sided with his sister—which had always been going to happen and Sawyer respected that.

  She wasn’t joking. “Shit. Really?”

  “Yeah really.” Her voice cracked. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “I’m not making the connection between his death and your visit.”

  “I need your help.”

  Sawyer laughed. “You broke into my place to ask me for help? That’s rich.” He crossed his arms keeping hold of the rolling pin.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’re still a dick.”

  “It’s one of my many charms.” His lovers stuck around for a short time, not a long time and that was how he liked it. He didn’t want to be explaining any of what he did to them, and he hadn’t found anyone he liked well enough to share anything with.

  “I know you had a thing with Anthony. Do it for him not me.”

  Sawyer drew in a breath, expecting a sting of pain, but he hadn’t spoken to Anthony since that night. All that was left for him to feel was an echo of a loss. “That was a long time ago.” They’d both been curious and had decided they didn’t mind men or women. He’d even asked Anthony before dating Cosima. Anthony hadn’t cared; they’d been over for years. “And a very low blow.”

  Cosima hadn’t just taken the sword. He’d lost his girlfriend, his best friend, and a nice payday all in one night. She’d pulled the rug from under his life and left him to rebuild alone.

  “He told me.”

  “Before or after you broke my nose.” Had that been the cause of the fight in the museum?

  “After. Will you help?”

  “Help with what? Anthony is dead. I don’t work miracles.”

  “I know he can’t be brought back.” She took a few stops closer, bat swinging in her hand. “What about your fancy coven?”

  “What about them?”

  “If you don’t help me, I’ll tell them all your dirty secrets.”

  Sawyer smiled. “I have dirty secrets you couldn’t even dream about, and they know them all.”

  Well, most of them.

  “Maybe I’ll go to them for help.”

  “You can try.” He stepped aside as though to let her leave. “But you broke in and you don’t get to leave until the candle goes out.”

  “Bullshit.” But her gaze flicked between him and the door, and in those few moments Sawyer closed the distance. She swung the bat, he blocked with the rolling pin, and the magic in the bat turned the full force of her strike back on her, making her to stagger back.

  She shook her head, then went to strike again. Always ready to fight. He missed that about her. But he wasn’t ready to admit that he’d missed her.

  “What are you really here for?”

  “Help.”

  He almost believed her. “Then put down the bat.” If she kept swinging, she’d injure herself. Then again, he wouldn’t mind seeing her a little bloody.

  She swung again and he blocked with the pin. She gasped for breath as though he’d punched her in the gut. “What are you doing?”

  “Me? Nothing.” He wouldn’t fight her, not again, because he’d only end up losing. “The bat, however, transfers kinetic energy back into the swinger. In this case, you.”

  Would she really go for a third hit?

  “If you don’t help me, I’m dead, too.” Cosima dropped the bat, but kept her hands loosely curled into fists.

  “And why would I care?” After what she did to him, she had some balls showing up. But then she’d never been short on nerve.

  “Because we meant something to each other once.”

  “You’re fucking joking, right? After what you did—”

  “Me? You’re the one who left me and Anthony. You got a coven and were too good for us.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mason had caught him stealing and shown him what magic could really do and Sawyer had been young enough to think he could do the same. He was the runt of the coven. The one with barely enough magic to be included. But they’d became his family and they’d stopped him form winding up in prison or worse. The people Cosima, Anthony, and he had worked for were not the forgiving or friendly type. They certainly weren’t family.

  “You’d have given that sword to your coven. I heard you talking.”

  He nodded. He’d wised up to what the three of them were doing. Deadly things didn’t belong in the hands of ruthless collectors. “It was dangerous.”

  “Aren’t they always? But that never stopped you in the past. You’d have left us to face punishment.”

  He frowned. He wouldn’t have ditched Anthony and Cosima. Back then, it had been the three of them against the world
. The coven was something new and he’d been wary. “So instead you left me?”

  Her lips twisted. “What does it matter? You were on your way out. I just slammed the door after.”

  “You picked the lock to get in.” He dropped the rolling pin on the sofa. “Go ask the coven for help.”

  “I need you.”

  “You’ve never needed me.” Want and need were two very different things. He wasn’t sure if she’d ever wanted him or if it had been convenience that had kept them together for two years. Their whole world had been survival, one job to the next, dodging cops and spells.

  He’d known Anthony had a talent, more than him, but Mason hadn’t wanted—the Morrigu hadn’t wanted—Anthony. Sawyer should’ve asked why, but the offer from Mason had been too good to turn down. He’d already been tired of running.

  “I need a thief, not a witch. If I don’t finish the job, Bright’s going to kill me.”

  He wanted to shrug, blow out the candle, and tell her to leave. But he couldn’t. Sawyer didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t help her with Bright, that wasn’t what he did, but he didn’t want to leave her fate in Bright’s hands either.

  “Unless you’re out of practice, but somehow I doubt it. A marble rolling pin doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.” She smirked.

  He still stole for the coven, usually taking dangerous magical objects out of circulation. He shrugged. “I’m trying my hand at being a pastry chef.”

  “You’re still a bad liar.”

  “You were always better at that.” Her tongue had led him into so much trouble.

  She glared at him. “You fucked my brother.”

  “Actually,” he smiled, “that’s none of your business. It long was before you.” Back when a few years felt like forever. They’d been so young and stupid.

  “Ugh. You’re disgusting.”

  “There’s the door.” Not that she’d be able to get out.

  “You don’t sleep with your ex’s siblings or friends. Don’t you have any standards?”

  He did. He liked them pretty and with a sharp tongue—somethings hadn’t changed.

  “If you want my help, pissing me off and disparaging my sex life isn’t going to get you far. Have you ever considered using honey instead of poison?”

  “You want an apology for something that happened years ago?”

  “Says the bitch barking about the three times I was with her brother, years before her. Why’d he even tell you?”

  “We were drunk, and you came up in conversation.”

  Heat crept up his neck and he swallowed, biting back on all the comments he could make. “Reminiscing about the bad old days?”

  “They weren’t all bad.”

  “Yeah, they were. We were always hungry, always in trouble and we all had rap sheets.” He was never going back to that. Mason had saved his life and while it wasn’t perfect it was one thousand percent better than what had been coming for him back then.

  What had caught up with Cosima? And what had taken Anthony?

  When stealing magical objects, it was only a matter of time until one of them bit you on the ass and didn’t let go. He wasn’t quite ready to believe Anthony was dead. Anthony had been smart and could handle himself in most situations. Try as he might he couldn’t muster up more than a faint sting for Anthony’s death.

  It should have hurt more.

  He’d been gutted when Oskar had taken off to battle his uncle in an effort to shed his death curse. He’d never expected to see him again. He’d shared much more with Anthony than Oskar. But he hadn’t seen or heard from Anthony in five years.

  Anthony had watched the fight but not stopped it. He’d let Cosima take the damn sword and left Sawyer to take the fall. Sawyer had been on his knees, dripping blood. Cosima had spun on her heel, sword in hand and dark braid swinging, and walked away.

  He’d known then she didn’t care about him. He’d been a convenient tool and he’d served his purpose. But he’d cared about her, more than she knew. And he hated that seeing her had revived those old feelings.

  He studied the woman in front of him, wanting to find something he could despise and failing. “You can stay here tonight. This place is warded so Bright won’t be able to find you.”

  “And what do I do tomorrow?”

  “Find another line of work.”

  Chapter 3

  Cosima hadn’t come to Sawyer to beg a roof over her head. One night wouldn’t throw Bright off her tail. “I need to finish the job and get the sword.”

  Sawyer levelled his gaze at her. “Where have I heard that before?”

  “It’s not my fault you witches put magic in swords.” She crossed her arms matching his pose.

  His biceps filled out his T. He was far more built than he’d been when they were together. He was also harder. His blue eyes had lost their smile and were now razor sharp. His nose hadn’t been set straight and skewed to the right. But it suited him, knocked a little of the pretty off. His shoulder length dark blond hair added it back on.

  He wasn’t the same boy she’d known. If she’d ever really known him. Maybe she hadn’t, but her brother had. Anthony had known Sawyer had magic long before she realized. She’d thought Sawyer was just really good at stealing. She was glad she hadn’t known back then, otherwise she’d have been the only one with no magic. By the time she’d found out from Anthony, Sawyer had joined the coven.

  “Magic tends to be put into valuable things because it takes time and effort to create the spell. What did this sword do? Did it grant the holder power? Grace? The ability to lead? Or was it more of a destroy your enemies and force them to speak the truth kind of blade?”

  “It made Anthony’s veins turn green and choked out his life.” That was all she knew about it. They didn’t ask too many questions because if they did, they wouldn’t get the job. No one wanted a witch stealing the magical thing they were being paid to steal. Keeping Anthony’s gift with security systems quiet had been a necessary lie.

  Sawyer winced. “It kills witches then.”

  “No shit.” Although Anthony didn’t have enough magic to be accepted as a witch. “Why didn’t you take Anthony with you?” Though if Sawyer had, where would that have left her?

  “I didn’t leave. The coven found me. Mason offered me a chance and I took it. He spoke to Anthony too, but that didn’t go anywhere. The only reason I’m not rotting in prison is because my coven was there to help after you and Anthony left me to take the fall.”

  “I had to finish the job.”

  “I had to finish the job,” he mimicked.

  She picked up the bat and threw it at him. “You’re such a dick.”

  If she knew another witch, one she trusted even only half the time, she wouldn’t be here.

  He caught the bat. “Well now it’s all charged up, the next person to use it gets a double hit.” He put it carefully on the sofa next to the rolling pin. “You came to me for help, not the other way around. You never even glanced back.”

  Cosima knew if she had, she would’ve crumpled, and Anthony had been waiting. It had been for the best, but her reasons turned to ash.

  “Neither did you. You threw in with the coven and never even looked us up.”

  He gave her a half smile. “Why would I when you betrayed me? We could’ve had that fight anywhere, but you set me up. Why would I ever trust you again? Help you?”

  She swallowed and glanced at the floor. It had been Anthony’s idea to set Sawyer up, punishment for leaving, and a test for his new friends. The coven had been there when she’d turned her back. Regret was not something she liked to embrace, but it held her tight anyway. She had no excuse or reason that would ever make him trust her, so she went with the simple truth. “No one else can help me.”

  He laughed. “I’m not going to be the sword’s next victim. Take the spare room, make some calls, whatever. But I can’t help. I won’t steal a sword that’s already killed one witch because when Bright gets it more witche
s will die.”

  “You know what he’s like.”

  “I know the rumors. I’ve never had any dealings with him, but he’s well known for his collection. How much of it did you help him acquire?”

  A few items, but none had ever been deadly. But then, she didn’t know what the other items did. She didn’t want to know either. “That doesn’t matter.”

  “You’re putting weapons in dangerous hands.”

  “Spare me the lecture. Like you haven’t done the same. I bet your coven has quite the collection.”

  His lips curved. “Only a fool would steal from a coven. A few have tried. If I help, I take the sword for safe keeping.”

  He was probably right, and he did know more about magic than she did, but she needed the sword. “If I don’t hand Bright the sword then his non-witch, but very violent goons, will kill me. Slowly.”

  “Then you should’ve thought of that before taking the job.” Sawyer was as impassive as granite. He’d always been stubborn. That hadn’t changed and she doubted she’d be able to soften his stance with a blow job like she once had. Jesus, had Anthony once done the same?

  It had been easier not thinking about them together when Sawyer wasn’t standing in front of her. As the youngest of the three, she hadn’t even realized they’d gotten together. Anthony had made it seem serious, but Sawyer had brushed it off as a fling. The truth was probably something in between. In their line of work, it was definitely easier to keep things short and impersonal. It had been different with her and Sawyer. Walking away had hurt.

  “If you won’t do it for me, do it for Anthony. Avenge him.” His mask faltered for a heartbeat and she dug in for the kill. “We were family once.”

  The mask went back up. “I’m not putting a witch-killer in Bright’s hands.”

  She bit back on the frustration and the urge to stamp her foot. “My death will be on your hands.”

  Sure, she could’ve turned down the job, but they were just hitting the big time where the reward was worth any risk. She needed a second hand to count the zeros on this job. She’d researched Mallory, his house and his life. It should’ve been easy. The only thing she hadn’t done was ask what was special about the sword—Bright wouldn’t have told her anyway; he’d have been worried she’d find another buyer.