Coven of the Raven: box set

by Shona Husk

  She eased into the chair and picked up the free newspaper, not really reading as she kept an eye on the passersby. She was halfway through her coffee before a young man in casual clothing—not a suit like most others—wandered in. Dark brown hair with a red gleam in the light and an air the suggested he feared no one. The hairs along her arm prickled and she was sure there was magic nearby. Him?

  To keep him in her range of vision she curled into the chair and tucked her feet up. If that was Rhys, this wasn’t a meeting she could run from anyway. If Anthony were here, he’d go up and smoothly introduce himself. He wouldn’t wait for Rhys to come to him. But she couldn’t force herself to move. For a heartbeat she could barely breathe.

  She’d never work with her brother again. They’d known each other’s nonverbal cues, strengths and weaknesses…and Anthony had played her to get what he wanted. Getting rid of Sawyer had been the most obvious but looking back there were so many other times. He hadn’t become the leader because he was good at leading their little group. He’d become the leader because it was easier to do what he wanted.

  What did she want?

  She didn’t want Sawyer and his friends to die.

  The man turned. He cast his gaze over the room as though looking for somewhere to sit, before he smiled at her like they were old friends. She really hoped he was Rhys and not a dude looking for random women to hook up with. Her hand was steady as she sipped her coffee, unlike her heart which was skittering around her chest like an old soda bottle in the street. One car and the bottle would be obliterated.

  The man sat in the armchair opposite her, his back to the door. He grinned. A scar that started at the corner of his eye stopped the smile from being pretty and made it something far more dangerous. The scar was a faint white line that traced to the middle of his cheek and was paralleled by another that started closer to his hair line.

  He could be attractive, but she’d never been into men who took the way they looked seriously. He probably spent more time in the bathroom than she did. She studied him, waiting for him to make the first move. After what she guessed was thirty seconds, she returned her attention to the newspaper. She didn’t have time for games no matter who he was.

  Around them people chatted to their companion, or into their phone.

  The two of them were silent.

  He watched her like she was an exotic bug. It was all she could do to keep reading and not turn and ask him what his problem was. Clearly, he wanted her to be asking the questions. Which meant she wasn’t going to say a goddamn thing until he’d introduced himself.

  She was almost hoping it wasn’t Rhys just to she’d have an excuse to leave. She checked the time and finished her coffee. She’d been there for an hour. And he hadn’t shown—or at least spoken. She folded the paper and stood.

  “Stay,” the man she assumed was Rhys said.

  Oh, he did speak.

  She gave him a very cool once over, unimpressed with the game he thought he was playing. “You were late. Timing is everything.”

  “I wanted to get to know you.”

  “You can’t do that by staring like some kind of weirdo.”

  “I can. You were unruffled when I sat down, un-swayed by my smile. You have an agenda.”

  “You think too highly of yourself. I’m busy. I have things to prepare before work.”

  He nodded. “I’m here to help.”

  She doubted that very much.

  She sat on the coffee table in front of him. This close she could see his eyes were brown. This man tried too hard to be pretty. Sawyer knew he was and didn’t care. She put her hands on her knees and leaned forward. “Tell me, how many jobs have you done? Planned? What is it that you do that could be so useful to me?”

  He sipped his drink and smiled. “I found the object once and I’ve found it again.”

  “So, go get it.” Bright didn’t need her when he could find the sword and had a man who could do the job. Though she doubted Rhys had ever gotten his hands dirty.

  He shook his head. “You’ll get it as contracted.”

  “If your boss hadn’t been trying to end me, I might already have it in my hands. I don’t work well under fire.”

  He leaned forward. “Don’t fuck up and you won’t be fired.”

  “Give me one good reason why I should work with you instead of the man I trust with my life.” She stood, and he grabbed her leg. Her skin beneath her jeans heated then cooled just as fast. Magic. Rhys was a witch and couldn’t touch the sword without feeding it. She forced a thin smile. “That the best trick you’ve got?”

  He stared up at her as though confused by her reaction.

  “I’ve been running with witches my whole life. You’ve got to do better than that.”

  “How about, if you don’t work with me and hand the sword over in twenty-four hours, your boyfriend, and all of his friends, will find themselves in a fatal fire.”

  She sat back down on the coffee table even though she shouldn’t be listening to his threats. “We were working on it.”

  “He’d have never handed the sword over. He knows how much it’s worth and The Morrigu has her claws in him too deep. He isn’t like you anymore.”

  Maybe she wasn’t like herself anymore either. Maybe she wanted to be someone else.

  She shrugged. “Maybe I was going to take it from him once he’d done all the hard work.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “You’ve lost your edge.”

  “Losing a sibling will do that.” She’d lost more than her brother. She’d lost the man she’d once loved and could love again. Sawyer would never trust her after this, and she didn’t blame him.

  “You still like the witch. If you didn’t, you would wouldn’t be here trying to save him.”

  “That building you want to incinerate has families and children inside. A baby almost lost her father today because your boss is carrying on like a two-year-old in a shop who’s seen something sparkly they can’t live without.”

  “Careful how you talk about my father.” There was ice in Rhys’s voice.

  She jerked back, unable to hide her surprise. She hadn’t seen the resemblance at first…but now. It was the set of his mouth and the line of his jaw. The arrogance in his eyes. “Bright wouldn’t send his son, a witch, after a blade that could kill him with a touch.”

  Rhys’s eyes widened.

  “Didn’t he tell you that was the sword’s magic? Guess you’d better start trusting me.” She leaned in. “How did you think Anthony died? The blade took his magic and killed him in front of me.” The scars on Rhys’s face were stark streaks and his lips had lost their smile. She much preferred that look on him. “Ready to play my way?”

  “You’d say anything to drive a wedge and get your way.”

  She would, but in this case, she was telling the truth. She shrugged. “It’s your funeral.”

  “My job is to get you to the sword. You will take it and give it to my father. As long as you do that, then your friends stay safe.”

  “We have to be a team. This doesn’t work any other way.” She hated working with other people. They’d done it a few times when there’d been a job that needed more than two but there was always that edge of distrust. She didn’t know this guy at all and trusted him less. He probably felt the same way. What had Bright threatened his son with if he failed to return with the sword? “Do you know where Mallory is? Or the sword?”

  Just because he knew where one was didn’t mean they’d be together. She was half hoping the sword was stashed somewhere safe and it would be a nice simple theft. Confronting Mallory while he was holding the sword and influencing people wouldn’t be fun.

  “I know where Mallory is.”

  “We want the sword not a real estate agent.”

  “If he doesn’t have it, we’ll make him tell us where it is.”

  “No. Mallory isn’t to be hurt or killed. That’s not the way I work.”

  “It is now.” The son was just like his
father.

  Cosima hoped he did touch the sword. Maybe she could slap him with it, but even as she thought it, she knew she couldn’t watch another die the way Anthony had. She wanted to argue that she wouldn’t work with him, but she didn’t have that leverage. She had to, or Sawyer was dead. “Where’s Mallory?”

  “Doing the same as he did last time.”

  “Selling houses?” People would want to buy from him.

  Rhys nodded. “Easy money.”

  Growing up, Cosima had been almost invisible. She tried to imagine what it would be like to have people hang on every word she said and failed. “Is that all your family cares about?”

  “Money buys power and that is far more important.”

  “You have your own. You’re a witch.”

  Was Rhys how Bright had discovered magic? Had Rhys’s mother also been a witch? While researching Bright had unearthed very little beyond his official business dealings, now she had Rhys to dig into. She wanted to widen the cracks in Bright’s walls. Maybe Rhys was a lever.

  “What did you mean about the sword taking your brother’s magic?”

  “Exactly that, it takes the magic and kills the witch it fed on.” There wasn’t anything else to say. “Your father didn’t warn you the sword needs to be charged to work? No death, no magic. If he didn’t tell you, I’m guessing you aren’t your father’s favorite son.”

  He was pale as though he’d discovered something nasty in his coffee. “I’m his only son. I have two sisters.”

  Now she was getting somewhere. She put on a concerned frown. “I’m sure he must have said something. You wouldn’t want to accidentally touch it. That’s all it takes.” She blinked and saw Anthony struggling to breath, his veins popping up and turning green. Or had Bright expected Rhys to be the next victim? “How about I do the grabbing, and you do as you’re told, and then we both get to live.”

  This time he nodded. “You don’t want to know what magic I have?”

  “You make things hot or cold…by touch? Unless you can turn invisible, that probably isn’t going to be much use.” She needed Sawyer and his pack of colored markers. A witch with more than one party trick. “Can you do anything else?”

  “It’s more than just hot and cold.” He finished his coffee.

  “How much more?”

  The smile returned. “That doesn’t matter.”

  Fine. “Let’s go and visit Mallory, but I doubt he has the sword on him. The cops would’ve arrested him by now.” If the cops had the sword it would be locked up in evidence, and she wouldn’t be able to get it out. Would Bright back off? Or would he use his money to bribe someone?

  “They haven’t arrested Mallory.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “First thing my father checked. I checked, too. Mallory is wandering around doing whatever he wants.”

  “So instead of attacking me, why aren’t your father’s men taking the sword?” As soon as words left her lips, she knew. If one of the goons with guns had the sword, he wouldn’t hand it over, he’d seize the power. She was being paid because Bright trusted no one, including his son.

  “Because they’d be tempted. You’re a professional. Your reputation is on the line.”

  Her life was more important. “So, we’re going to chat to Mallory?”

  He checked the time and stood, lean and lanky. “Yes, we have a viewing to get to.”

  Maybe she could message Sawyer and let him know what she was up to. That he hadn’t called her was telling. Maybe he didn’t care about her at all and it had just been a job to him. It didn’t matter what she was to him, only that she didn’t want to be the reason Bright killed him.

  Rhys held out his hand. “Phone.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I want to make sure we’re working together. As a team.” He threw her words back at her.

  She handed her phone over. Rhys wasn’t a complete idiot, unfortunately.

  Sawyer paced the floor of his office. He’d never been good at finding things, not like the others. Noah had a map and the comb Sawyer had taken from Mallory’s bathroom—walking through the house had given him the opportunity to take something personal but otherwise worthless. No one would accuse him of taking plastic comb, it was too ordinary. He’d slipped it into his pocket, no evidence bag required, and walked out with it with the cop watching his every move. The cop had watched but hadn’t seen.

  “And?”

  “And Mallory is in Brooklyn.”

  “Why would he be there when he could be taking over the world with the sword?”

  Noah looked up at him. “He sells houses, right? So, get on the website and find out if he has any home opens.”

  “You think he’s still working?”

  “He got rich last time and he doesn’t understand magic…what would you do? Actually, don’t answer that.”

  Sawyer smiled. “I don’t know what I’d do. But I doubt Mallory is still thinking properly. Mordred will be driving him to glory.”

  “The more deals he closes, the better his stats and the more likely he is to start shifting millions in real estate. It’s not a bad plan.”

  Sawyer lifted an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you knew anything about real estate.”

  “I don’t, but Rachel does, and she keeps looking at houses even though we’re barely settled in here. I don’t want to commute.”

  “I’ve seen the way she looks at Meredith.”

  Noah glared at him. “It’s going to happen.” He shrugged. “But not yet. I worry about passing this on, you know?”

  “Yeah.” Not that he’d ever discussed kids with anyone. Though there’d always been the minor panic that he hadn’t been careful enough and there was a kid out there that didn’t know their father. He hadn’t known either of his parents, and he wanted better for his kids if he ever had any.

  He scrolled through the website looking for today’s home opens. “There’s no public viewings.”

  “One thing bugs me about this.”

  “Only one?”

  “How’s he getting around town with a sword?”

  For a change, Sawyer was glad the witches of old enchanted swords and other big items. It was a hell of a lot easier to track a sword than a ring. “If he’s driving, it might be in his car. He’ll want it close.”

  “Let’s check it out before Cosima and Bright do.” Noah folded up the map and slipped it and the comb into his pocket.

  Sawyer was ninety-nine percent sure that when Bright got his hands on the sword Cosima was dead, and so was everyone in the coven. They were exposed and Bright would want to keep his new toy charged. The more people involved in taking the sword, the wider the fallout would be.

  He wished Cosima had never come to the agency. If he’d said yes to her request, she wouldn’t have. He’d dragged them into this. They deserved better. They were better. They did the right thing, they helped people—they’d helped him even though he was nothing.

  “Maybe you should sit this one out.” He wasn’t able to track strangers, but he could track Cosima because they had a connection. He used to torture himself that way, find her and wonder what she was doing and who she was doing it with. Then he’d go out and made sure he forgot everything but his name with the first person to take his fancy.

  “That’s not how it works.”

  “It is this time. You lot don’t deal with the rich underbelly where legal is something they pay for. Peyton might have brushed against it unwittingly, but I used to lay down and sleep with it. The Morrigu said it’s my past…” He didn’t mention it was his sword. And that he could take the magic. They’d already told him it was too dangerous. And they were right. He didn’t feel any more confident even though the Morrigu had told him he could. If he said the sword was rightfully his, they’d just assume that he wanted the power for himself.

  He wasn’t sure he wanted the sword, or that he wouldn’t die when he touched it, but given that the other witches would most certainly die, takin
g it was the best option.

  “You can’t go alone. You need someone to watch your back, and your girlfriend switched sides.”

  Sawyer clamped his teeth and remembered to breath. “She’s my ex.”

  “You still like her. She was wearing your clothes, so I don’t think she’s an ex anymore.” He grinned and lifted his eyebrows.

  There was no point in arguing that they hadn’t slept together; he didn’t want to be digging himself a deeper hole. “She didn’t switch sides. She’s doing what I would’ve done when we ran together.” What he planned on doing and what he should have done all along. If he hadn’t followed orders and waited, he’d have the damn sword.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We had an agreement, the three of us. Finishing the job was always the priority. Sometimes that meant leaving someone to take the heat when the cops showed.” He had the juvenile rap sheet to prove that he’d taken his fair share of arrests. But he’d always gotten lucky with nothing really sticking. Had the Morrigu watched over him even then?

  Noah stared at him. “That’s why you didn’t leave the museum job. You let them get away.”

  That had been less about following the rule and more about being so shell shocked he couldn’t move. That had been betrayal. “Yeah.”

  “You think she’s completing the job.”

  He nodded.

  “That’s the same thing as switching sides. She’ll give Bright the sword.”

  Sawyer wanted to disagree but couldn’t. He didn’t know what she’d do. The right thing by the witches, to whom she owed no loyalty, or the right thing by Bright who was signing her paycheck and threatening her life? He didn’t know her well enough.

  “I’ll stop her.”

  “How.”

  “I’ll take the magic from the sword.”

  “That’s suicidal. You have no idea if you even can. It’s a known witch killer. It’s mentioned in grimoires along with other things that are bad for witches.”

  “You’ve done your homework.”