Coven of the Raven: box set

by Shona Husk

  “And? We all work for the Morrigu. I need to know if Bright is going to come after us. My job is to keep us all safe.”

  “Bright isn’t after us. He wants the sword that my friend and her brother were hired to take.”

  “And now the brother is dead.”

  Sawyer nodded. “But I’m not going to help her steal the sword. This isn’t a case.”

  “Why did she come to you?”

  “Because she knew me before. I’ve already told her no.”

  Peyton studied him. Sawyer made sure there were no drops of blood on the paper; there weren’t but Peyton could use hellhound magic as well as his own blood magic. “And what has the Morrigu said?”

  “Nothing.” But he hadn’t asked either. When she appeared to him, she was a reaper, gathering the souls of the worthy, her face bony and grim, hidden in the folds of her cloak. Just once he’d like the winged sexy goddess Noah got to chat with, or even the cow herder aspect Peyton saw.

  “Your past has finally caught up with you.”

  Goddess, he hoped not. If it had, Sawyer was going to be doing a long stretch somewhere unpleasant.

  Cosima pushed open the door to the Uncommon Raven Agency. She’d walked past the building many times when Sawyer had first been taken in by the coven. Back then she’d been trying to see the lure. Now she actually needed help. She didn’t know if she was being paranoid or if she’d been followed all morning.

  She’d thought about breaking back into Sawyer’s apartment, but he’d already refused to help. The coven, though…helping people with magical and non-magical problems was their bread and butter. Assuming their fees weren’t too high, she’d pay to get Bright off her tail.

  The man at the front desk looked up from what he was writing and put on a customer service smile. “Hi, how can I help?”

  Did she launch straight into her magical problem or pretend magic wasn’t real at first? “Someone wants me dead.”

  He the smile melted into a frown. “Have a seat. What makes you say that?”

  “Well, he killed my brother and if I don’t do what he wants, I’m next.” She tacked a sweet smile on the end. That wasn’t the actual truth, but it was close enough.

  “Are you sure this person killed your brother?” But there was something in his eyes that suggested he’d seen through her lie. What magic did this witch have?

  She fidgeted, not sure if she should continue with the lie or start talking about magic. “Yes.”

  Bright was responsible in a roundabout way, so was she technically lying? If he’d said the sword was dangerous, they’d have taken more precautions. Magic thefts were often dangerous—that’s why the fees were hefty—but not usually fatal.

  “And why do you think this person is coming after you?”

  “Because I know who he is, and his reputation is decorated with the bodies of those who disobey.”

  Footsteps stamped toward the reception area. Whoever it was, wasn’t light on their feet.

  The man in front of her coughed, and Cosima turned. Sawyer muttered a curse that didn’t reach her ears, but she knew the tone well enough. His face hardened but the flicker of recognition was his undoing.

  “You know each other?” the man she’d been talking to asked.

  “Yeah.” Sawyer jerked his chin at her. “That’s Anthony’s sister.”

  Oh, shit. Sawyer had already discussed the case with them. She glanced at the man on the other side of the desk. He gave her a narrow smile and put his note pad on the desk. He’d been drawing the sword. What had Sawyer said about her? Had he convinced them not to help?

  “Don’t storm out of my office, Sawyer.” A dark-haired man with fashionable stubble stopped short.

  Cosima bit back a smirk. Sawyer in trouble, how unusual.

  “Guys, we have a client. Play nice,” the man she’d been speaking to said.

  Sawyer shook his head. “No, we don’t. We aren’t taking this one. It’s too dangerous.” His gaze was firmly on Cosima like he expected her to attack.

  The air crackled with anticipation, magic, and unfinished arguments.

  She focused on the man who’d been telling Sawyer off. Maybe he was the boss. “I don’t want to die, just because some rich asshole wants a new toy.”

  “Then you should’ve thought of that before taking the job. She’s a thief, I know her because we ran in the same circles,” Sawyer said.

  “We were the circle.” And if these people hadn’t stepped in, they’d still be together. Anthony would be alive, and everything would be fine. “I need the sword to give to Bright.”

  “He’s not getting the sword,” the boss said, “but we will protect you.”

  “He’ll hire someone else to get the sword.” Which part of Bright wanted her dead if she failed, did they not understand?

  “We’ll get there first.” The boss put a hand on Sawyer’s shoulder. “Should be a walk in the park for you.”

  Sawyer glanced at his boss. “If you want me dead, just say so. You don’t fuck with Bright and walk away to talk about it.”

  If Sawyer got the sword, Cosima could take it off him. It would be just like old times. If she closed her eyes, she could still see him kneeling on the floor, blood dripping over his lip from his busted nose, looking like a lost puppy. She’d almost gone back, but Anthony had been urging her to hurry. She tore her gaze away.

  This was different. This wasn’t about money. It was about survival.

  “We need to know more about the sword before we do anything.” The man who’d been drawing held up his sketch. “That’s all I got.”

  And how had he gotten that? The question was on the tip of her tongue.

  The boss raked his fingers through his hair. “Sawyer, find out which sword it is.”

  “There’s over two hundred swords in the data base, and you’re assuming it’s in there.” Sawyer snatched the paper off the man who’d drawn it. The glance he gave her was all razors.

  “And what do I do? I’m pretty sure I’m being followed.” There was something about this place that made her feel safe. She didn’t want to understand why Sawyer had liked coming here instead of spending time with Anthony and her, but it was happening anyway. She didn’t want to go back out there; she’d never reach the safe house Anthony had set up.

  The boss smiled. “Sit tight until we work out what we’re doing.”

  “And is this all on the clock? How much will this protection cost?”

  “We’ll work it out,” the boss said.

  “No need.” Sawyer shook his head and gave her a grin. “I assume you got half up front for the sword, same as always? That should be enough to cover my expenses.” He shook the paper. “We can discuss danger pay later, when I know how much trouble we’re in. Oskar can give you the bank details.”

  She glanced at Oskar. She’d give them half of her upfront payment.

  Chapter 5

  “It’s a case, Sawyer.” Peyton leaned against the door frame.

  “Just because it’s a case it doesn’t mean we have to take it.” Sawyer glanced away from the database of magical objects. It was something several covens had worked on because there was such a hot trade. He’d never mentioned to anyone outside of his coven that he’d once been part of the trade. “I’m too close.”

  “I know about being too close, but she came to you for a reason.”

  “I’m the only witch she knows. Cosima is many things but stupid isn’t one of them. The moment I get my hands on the sword she’ll take it.” This time she wouldn’t leave him alive to bitch about it.

  “You know her. Would she really?”

  “I used to think I knew her,” Sawyer shook his head, “but in the end I didn’t. You weren’t there. You were hardly at the coven, but I think you sorted out my legal representation. With magic and money, we were able to convince everyone that I was an innocent bystander who’d been framed.”

  “You do risky work for us all the time. Why the hesitation now?”

&n
bsp; Sawyer spun on the chair to look at Peyton, a man who until very recently had avoided coven business like the plague in case his inner hellhound slipped out. Now he was the fucking expert on coven business. “I do it because no one else wants to get their hands dirty.” He stood. “Because I’m expendable and have the least amount of magic. You’re throwing me to the wolves without a second thought.”

  “I don’t want witches to die because of that weapon.”

  Sawyer understood that, but why was it his ass on the line again? “I’m going to speak with Mason. You aren’t in charge yet.”

  “You do that. But when you need bailing out, I’m the one who’s writing the check.”

  Sawyer glared at him. “So, I’m supposed to do everything you say, because you hold the purse strings? How does that make you any different than Bright?”

  Peyton growled, a sound that no human should make. His eyes flickered yellow before settling. “I never wanted this responsibility. I didn’t ask for it and I would gladly hand it on. Check with Mason if that will make you feel better, but this mess is something we have to deal with.”

  “You mean me. I have to deal with it.”

  “You’re taking the lead, but we’ll be at your back. Same as always.”

  “You’ll be too late when she stabs me with the sword.” He didn’t have much magic for the weapon to drain.

  “What did you do to piss Cosima off?”

  Sawyer pressed his lips together and considered telling Peyton that it was none of his business, but Peyton had always been there when things went south. He didn’t sit back. His only crime was being born rich and waving money around like it was confetti. He didn’t even hoard it; he tithed to the coven and was the first to pay. Sawyer knew it was jealousy and he had to stop being a dick, but if he and Peyton both had their hands out he could guarantee it would be Peyton’s that was filled with gold while he got nothing.

  He forced out a breath; he really needed to get over it since Peyton would be the new boss. “I chose the coven over her.”

  Peyton frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe you should chat to Mason about who Cosima Delaney is before committing me to her cause.”

  “Who is she to you?”

  Sawyer couldn’t answer that without opening up and spilling all his fears. It would be a Pandora’s Box of horrors with a single gem of love at the bottom. He’d actually loved her, and she’d thrown that away. Thrown him away like everyone else. He was terrified the coven would do the same.

  He hadn’t been abandoning Cosima to go straight with the coven; he’d wanted better for all of them. The work they did was dangerous, magically, as well as if the cops caught them. They could’ve been more than thieves and chosen a different path. Cosima and Anthony could’ve found work, gone back to school—which sucked as an adult but at least he’d gotten his high school diploma even if it was a few years too late.

  Sawyer still wanted to be more, to have a better magic than borrowing it. To be able to hold a spell in his head without needing to put it in an object. To be worthy. It didn’t matter how hard he worked, his magic didn’t get better. He’d have loved to be bitten by a hellhound; at least that would be something cool and useful. He was still just a glorified thief. Even Cosima saw him as nothing more.

  He stared at Peyton when he finally answered. “An ex.”

  And going back to her would be a mistake. She’d rip his heart out again and leave him as the only suspect in his own murder.

  Peyton considered him for a moment. “You don’t have exes.”

  “I did then. When I was young and stupid.” When he’d still believed in love and all of that. Other people got love and happiness. Somehow, they earned it or something.

  He hadn’t had anything that lasted more than a few months in a long time. Mostly he didn’t bother. He trained. He created magical objects. He did his job and he went home or clubbing where it was easy to have fun and pretend that somewhere in the press of sweaty people there was someone for him, while knowing he wouldn’t look. If he didn’t look, then he couldn’t be rejected.

  It wasn’t like he could share his life. He remembered one man lying in his bed talking about his graphic design business. He’d asked what Sawyer did and Sawyer had told the lie about working for the Agency as a PI. He’d wanted to tell truth. He wanted someone to really see him.

  He wasn’t a PI or a bodyguard—Noah took most of those jobs. Sawyer was a witch even if he wasn’t a very good one. He had one skill and he did it well. So much so that if people came in asking for charms, they were immediately handed to him because he could put a spell in an object with his eyes closed. Even that wasn’t enough to give him value.

  Maybe growing up with nothing had left him with a hunger as well as the expectation it could all be gone in a heartbeat.

  “Want Freya to help you with that?” Peyton smiled. His girlfriend was a witch in the service of Freya, and once a month she was possessed by Freya. Freya was a goddess of love and war with a thing for blue cats. He didn’t need a second goddess’s help. One was plenty.

  “No. I like being single.” That was only the smallest lie. If he wanted company, it wasn’t hard to get. He didn’t need magic to get laid.

  Peyton tilted his head. “Do you still love her?”

  Sawyer turned away. He didn’t like her; how could he love her? But he couldn’t say no either. “I’ll let you know when I have something on the sword.”

  It was another couple of heartbeats before Peyton left.

  Sawyer didn’t still love Cosima. He’d hated her for a time, seethed, and had come damn close to hexing her. Only Mason’s warnings had kept him on the lit path. The hurt had gradually scabbed over, healed as best it could. And now she was back, and they were stuck in the same loop like it was unfinished business.

  He looked up from the screen.

  Oh, shit. It was unfinished business.

  He got up and shut the door. He needed a moment with the Morrigu, because he’d really thought he was done and over Cosima. He didn’t want to go back and relive the past. He wanted to bury it and walk away.

  Sawyer lay on the floor. He couldn’t sit in his chair and pretend to work. He needed to think about this. Even speaking to his goddess took effort, like she didn’t want to return his calls.

  The floor was hard beneath his shoulders and head, but it was also familiar. He slowed his breathing and slowly formed the image of the field. The grass went from a green blob to strands waving in the breeze. In the distance was trees and cattle. With each breath he added detail until the field lived and he was able to step into it.

  It was only then She appeared like a grim reaper. Even the grass parted for Her. His heart beat quickened. Part fear, part exhilaration. He was witch enough to get an audience with Her. He dropped to his knees and lowered his gaze out of respect.

  He’d dreamed of Her and bloody battle the night before the Cosima betrayed him. The Morrigu had offered him a hand out of the gore and he’d accepted it, been accepted by her. There hadn’t been blood in this field since.

  Her bony hand touched his head and he looked up, but the hood hid her face.

  The Morrigu, goddess of battle, of wealth, the reaper of worthy warriors killed in battle.

  Others saw the different aspects of Her. For Sawyer, She was always like this, the one who came at the end when the fighting was done. When She did come for him, there would be no more scrabbling around. He’d be done.

  “You aren’t done yet.”

  “I know.” He wasn’t ready to die, but he thought it would be peaceful when he finally did. “Why is Cosima back in my life?”

  “There are things that need finishing. Loose ends that need tying off.”

  No. They were done. Cosima had cut him off.

  “You aren’t done.”

  He glanced up. He wanted to deny that. There’d been years for him to move on and forget the sting, but he hadn’t. If he forgot, then he was putting himself in a p
lace where he would get hurt again. He’d gotten too comfortable with Cosima and Anthony and had dropped his guard. That wasn’t a mistake he was willing to make again.

  Was Cosima a warning he was getting too comfy? Peyton was taking over the coven; everything would change. Maybe there’d be no place for him.

  “This is about you, Sawyer.”

  “How? What can Cosima possibly teach me? How to lie and cheat?”

  “You can already do both of them. Don’t trick yourself.” Her cloaked billowed and a wave of vertigo hit Sawyer. He startled and realized he was lying on the floor in his office.

  He was going to have to take the case.

  Damn, that would make Peyton happy. Sawyer sat up. He hated doing anything that made Peyton happy.

  Cosima sat in reception drinking the coffee Oskar had made for her. If Sawyer flat out refused to help, then maybe one of the others would take her money? She glanced at the blond man sitting behind the desk, studiously ignoring her.

  What had Sawyer told them about her when he’d first started visiting the coven? Even if he’d only told part of the truth it would be enough. “What kind of witch are you?”

  Oskar glanced up. “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged. Anthony had been good with security systems, and Sawyer could borrow the power from whatever they were stealing. “Can’t you all do different things? How did you get the picture of the sword?”

  He put down the book, some medical text. “I went to the morgue and I did a simple little spell that allows me to see a few impressions from the dead. Usually something with a strong emotion. I saw the sword that killed him.”

  “That’s all?” Oskar had spoken to her brother. “He didn’t say anything?”

  He sighed. “Yes, that’s all. There’s no farewell speech or gnashing of teeth for loved ones. When the person is already dead all that is left are very self-centered memories. No last words. Sorry.” He picked up his book.