Witch's Curse (The Bone Coven Chronicles Book 1)

by Jenna Wolfhart

  Dorian gave me a sharp look, but I ignored it.

  “Miss Bennett,” Vincent began, “we’re going to need to take you in for questioning. There’s been a murder by magic here tonight, and as far as we can tell, you’re leaving the scene of the crime only moments after it happened.”

  “I’m not leaving the scene of any crime,” I said quickly. As much as I wanted to keep my cons a secret, now might be the time to come clean and explain where I just spent the past hour. At least it would prove I wasn’t the killer. I did have an alibi, as shaky as it was. It would put me in a bad light, but that was a million times better than being put behind magical bars. Or worse. “I was just inside the morgue talking to a pathologist who works there. His name is Jeffrey Baker, and I’m sure he’ll vouch for me if you go in and talk to him.”

  Two of the Enforcers locked eyes before glancing at Vincent, a strange expression passing between the three of them. Dorian stared at me, once again trying to catch my gaze. But frankly, I didn’t want to have anything to do with the man who had spent weeks on my tail. So, I ignored whatever he was trying to say. He’d been stalking me, and as far as I could tell, he’d led these other three Enforcers straight to me.

  He’d trapped me, even though it seemed clear he knew I was innocent.

  While the group fell silent, Dorian cleared his throat. “Zoe, Jeffrey Baker is the victim. A demon attacked him inside the morgue and drained his soul.”

  “Baker is dead? By…a demon?” Blood roared in my ears, and I almost stumbled back before I realized the wards still held me tight in place. I forced down a cry of alarm, my vision blurring as this new information sunk into my addled brain. Jeffrey Baker couldn’t be dead and especially not because he’d been attacked by a demon. It just wasn’t possible. The demon tormenting him hadn’t been real. I’d been the demon, lifting his belongings in the air and swirling them around. Five minutes ago, he’d been alive and well, if maybe a little bit shaky.

  If the demon had been real…I squeezed my eyes tight. I couldn’t even consider it. Because it would mean that I’d ignored the pathologist’s plea for help. His legitimate one.

  I could have saved him, but I’d done the total opposite instead.

  “There was a summoning rune drawn on a wall. You may not have seen it because it was hidden behind a shelf,” Dorian continued, snapping me out of my dark thoughts. “So, a mage must have summoned the demon there for the sole purpose of attacking the pathologist, if he was in fact the intended victim. It could have been targeted at someone else who works there. Regardless, the presence of the rune suggests this was a homicide.”

  “Dorian,” the lead Enforcer snapped, twisting his head to glare at the tall man. “Enough. Stop giving her so many details.”

  “I’m just explaining why we need to take her in for questioning,” Dorian said, his dark and swirling eyes never leaving my face. “Isn’t that standard procedure?”

  “There is no standard procedure. Not anymore.”

  As crazy as it sounded, I understood what the Enforcer meant. Years ago, the four covens—Bone, Blood, Rising Sun, and Shadow—had been a bustling community built on a solid infrastructure of governing bodies, law enforcement, and special programs to help witches and warlocks get by in a human-driven world. But after the demon war, everything got stripped way back. There’d been no other choice. With so few of us left in the world, there weren’t enough mages to fill the many open positions. What resulted was a total lack of organization—chaos, really—and all those special programs got scrapped. If a mage needed help, there was nowhere to turn. Not anymore.

  If you wanted to get something done, you had to do it yourself.

  “Come on. You’ll be coming with us now,” Vincent said, turning to me. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

  “What’s the hard way?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  Because part of me wanted to put up a fight. I knew how this looked. Jeffrey Baker was dead from a summoned demon attack, and I had a kit full of witch supplies slung over my shoulder just as I was caught leaving the premises at the time of his death. No wonder they thought I was the killer. If I went with them now, there was no telling how long they’d keep me off the streets. Would they actually hear me out? Or would they just lock me up right away?

  “The hard way?” The man levelled his gaze at me. “We tie you up and throw you into the trunk of my car.”

  Right. So, he hadn’t been joking when he’d said there was a hard way of doing this…

  “As fun as that sounds, I think I’ll take the easy way.” Maybe if I played nice long enough, they’d lower their defenses. Most people underestimate me. I had a feeling these Enforcers wouldn’t be any different.

  Vincent flicked his fingers at the other men, and they dropped the wards they held around me. Immediately, my body felt a rush of relief from the freedom of movement, and I rolled back my shoulders with a sigh. The Enforcers shifted closer, their faces still closed off and hard. For a moment, I thought they were going to escort me to a car, but I realized soon enough that I’d been had.

  Vincent lifted an arm and threw a blast of orange electricity right into my body. I tried to kick out to fight back, but my legs didn’t respond. A sickly sweet scent filled my nostrils, and a deep sense of dread and exhaustion washed over me.

  Darkness surrounded me. I fought against it. But then all was silent…

  The earth shifted underneath me. My face was smashed against something hard and cold. Everything vibrated and rolled like the sea. I couldn’t move my arms. My wrists ached and burned.

  I opened my eyes and saw nothing but dark shadows. It reminded me of the lower realm and the dark, dangerous demons that resided within it. I sucked in a deep breath only to taste blood in my mouth.

  My eyes slid closed. I fought to keep them open, but they refused to listen.

  Consciousness returned. The world was still, my feet were on the ground, and my hands were behind my back. I wiggled and felt the contours of a chair underneath me and heard the unmistakable creak of wood.

  Slowly, I opened my eyes, fighting against the pressure throbbing in my skull and the nausea choking my throat. Bright light shone in my eyes, and I had to blink several times. Nothing was in focus.

  The fuzziness cleared after a moment. The light shone from an overhead bulb, and stars twinkled in the night sky through open blinds. I blinked again, trying to make sense of where I was as the scent of dust and mildew flooded my senses. It was a large empty expanse that stretched out for yards, with damp concrete floors and rusted metal beams reaching up to a lofted ceiling. In other words, some kind of abandoned warehouse. And the only thing inside it was a table and two chairs.

  I sat in one. Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. I was strapped to one. In the other sat the older Enforcer, Vincent. The leader who had blasted hot magic in my face. He leaned back in the chair, his arms crossed over his chest, studying me.

  “Is this really necessary?” I said with a snap, my eyes snagging on the items scattered across the metal table. My dagger, the one hundred dollars in cash, and some random bits of paperwork.

  He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. “Is what really necessary?”

  “Knocking me out,” I said. “Tying me up. I know you’re down some men, but aren’t you going a little overboard with this?”

  “You’re the sole suspect in a murder.” He shrugged his shoulders and laced his fingers under his chin. “And not just any murder. You summoned a demon to take a man’s soul, Miss Bennett.”

  “Stop calling me Miss Bennett,” I said, irritation flickering through me. “And I didn’t murder anyone. Hell, I’ve never even summoned a demon in my life, so how could I have used one to kill a man?”

  “Unfortunately, the evidence stacks up against you.” The man began to rustle through some papers before him, but I had a sneaking suspicion there weren’t any words written there that mentioned this case. Who would have put a file together this
quickly? There were no assistants, no receptionists, no one but the Enforcers to do everything. And since they’d been running around knocking out innocent witches, they wouldn’t have had the time to create paperwork for it. So, this was all for show, which only increased my simmering irritation even more.

  “If you aren’t the murderer, then why were you in the alley behind the hospital moments after Baker’s death?” he asked.

  I blew out a frustrated breath of hot air. “I told you. Five minutes before you showed up, I was in the morgue talking to the guy. We had some business to discuss.”

  “At eleven in the evening,” the Enforcer said, raising his eyebrows, “you were inside a morgue speaking to a pathologist who wasn’t even scheduled to be at work. And what did you discuss, exactly?”

  Man, this guy had worked fast. Either that or he was bluffing about knowing Jeffrey Baker shouldn’t have been inside the building tonight. None of the pathologists were scheduled to work this late. That was why he’d picked eleven at night. So that no one would walk in on a witch banishing a demon in the morgue.

  My heart lurched. A real demon. If only I’d taken him more seriously, none of this would be happening right now. And he’d still be alive.

  Vincent’s sharp eyes met mine across the table, and I shifted on my seat. I was knee deep in some serious shit, and the only way to get out of it was to admit to another crime. Sure, it wasn’t against our magical laws, but it wouldn’t be the first time warlocks handed one of their own over to human law enforcement. And this guy looked like he wanted to take me down any way he could.

  “Well?” He leaned forward, a dangerous glint in his eyes. One that was almost…eager. In that moment, I realized that Vincent probably wanted me to be the culprit. It sure would make life a hell of a lot easier on him. He wouldn’t have to spend the time and resources to find the real killer, both of which he didn’t have. “Do you have an explanation or are you just going to sit there staring at me like an idiot?”

  “Jeffrey Baker got in touch with me a few days ago.” I shifted on the hard metal chair and winced when the ropes dug deeper into my wrists. “He thought he was being haunted by his aunt.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “So, he wanted you to take care of a supernatural problem for him? Why did he think he should call you?”

  I swallowed, not entirely sure how much information I should pass along. “There are some bars and nightclubs in the city where people talk about this kind of thing. I…I’ve made myself known there, I guess you could say. People know I have the skills and knowledge to banish their demons. Although most of the time they think they’re ghosts.”

  “Wait just a minute.” The man tapped a long finger on the metal table, a sound that echoed in the vast space. “You’re telling me that you’ve gone through outside channels to discuss demons with humans? You realize that could get us all exposed? And there’s not enough of us left to do a damn thing if humanity decides we’re too dangerous to live.”

  “Except most of the time, there are no demons,” I said, knowing that didn’t really answer his question. Truthfully, I thought it was about damn time we went public about our powers. We’d kept ourselves in our own little bubble for far too long. “Usually, these reports come in because of an overactive imagination or because of the hope that someone they love is haunting them. Too little sleep. Or too many drugs. In fact, I’ve only banished a real demon once. That’s how I got my mark.”

  The Enforcer gave me a long and simmering stare. “If you’ve only done it once, then how have you become known for it?”

  I grimaced and glanced away. The million dollar question. Either I could come clean or spin a web of lies, but I knew deep down that the time had come for me to get my cons out there in the open. It was the only way to clear my name. “I pretend to banish their demons. Basically, I let them think I’ve taken care of their problem, even if they don’t really have one.”

  The man stared at me, his expression giving me no indication of what he thought or felt about what I’d just shared. “I see.”

  “I usually draw a banishment rune to create a sense of authenticity,” I continued. “There was one on the morgue table. Didn’t you see it?”

  “The only thing on the morgue table was Jeffrey Baker’s dead body.”

  He shuffled the papers once again and exhaled, a whiff of bitter coffee blowing across the table along with the intoxicating taste of raw power. The back of my neck prickled in response, warning me. This man meant business, that much was certain. And his power was far stronger than most, which was probably how he got his job as Lead Enforcer. I needed to be careful here. One wrong move, and he could aim that power at my soul.

  After a moment, he glanced up as if he’d come across an interesting bit of information in his documents. “I see here that you’re the daughter of Hank and Lily Bennett.”

  Pain flickered through my heart, but I forced myself to keep the emotion hidden deep within. I wasn’t going to cry. Not here. Not in front of this man. “That’s right. They died in the demon war five years ago.”

  “Hank Bennett,” the man continued as if I hadn’t said a thing. “Why does that name ring a bell?”

  “I’m pretty sure you know why,” I said.

  “He got put away for fraud for a couple of years, didn’t he? In human prison.” The man shook his head, a wry smile lifting his lips. “Like father, like daughter.”

  My heart beat hard. Was that supposed to be some kind of insult? Or was he suggesting he planned to call the police and turn me in for what I’d done? It wasn’t like he had any proof of my cons…except, shit. I’d just sat there confessing everything like an idiot. He could be recording me. And then he could turn the tape over to the agents who had dealt with criminal mages in the past.

  And then what would happen to my Grams?

  “I’m going to go discuss these revelations with my team.” The Enforcer stood, gathering his papers from the table before leaving me alone in the empty warehouse. As he stepped through a door leading outside, my eyes caught a glimpse of Dorian’s shadowy frame silhouetted by the vibrant moonlight. It was too dark to see his face, but I could tell by the rigidity of his shoulders that he was tense.

  Why hadn’t he told the others about my cons? He’d been trying to tell me something in the alley before the other Enforcers showed up. Had he been trying to help me? Or had it been some kind of trick to get me to stick around long enough for back-up to arrive?

  Several moments passed in uneasy silence until the Enforcers reentered the room. All four of them filed in before me, standing tall with their hands behind their backs like they were some kind of soldier-wannabes. And they were in a sense. Warlock soldiers whose glory days had long since passed.

  “After talking this over, we’ve decided that we don’t have enough evidence to convict you at this point in time,” the lead Enforcer said with a frown so deep that it etched wrinkles into his leathery skin.

  Relief flooded through me, and my shoulders dropped forward despite my best intentions to put on a strong front. I’d been more scared than I realized, and hearing I was free to go left my whole body weak and trembling. There would be no magical bonds wrapped tight around my wrists, there would be no human jail cell, but most of all, I could go home to Grams.

  “However,” the man continued, putting a momentary halt on my relief, “you’re still our number one suspect, so we’ll be keeping your dagger and the illegally-obtained cash. To be honest, I was hesitant to let you go, but Dorian has come up with a suitable compromise.”

  My gaze latched onto Dorian’s stony face, surprise and irritation flickering through me. A compromise? I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like whatever they were going to say next. And I needed that cash, not to mention my dagger. It was as much a part of me as my own arm. Without it, my powers were far too limited, which was probably the reason the Enforcers wanted to keep it out of my hands.

  “We’re short on Enforcers, and we don’t have the manpo
wer to track down the killer and continue our regular patrols. If the killer isn’t you, that is…” Vincent trailed off before clearing his throat to continue. “So, we’re going to give you a chance to clear your name. You’ll team up with Dorian to find the murderer and bring him in. Do this, and you’ll be free to go.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but Dorian shot me another warning glance. This had been his idea then. This compromise. Little did he know just how much I hated the thought of working for the coven leaders. I’d spent the last five years of my life trying to distance myself from their influence as much as I could.

  They were the reason my parents got killed. And they’d done nothing for me or my Grams ever since.

  I didn’t want to be beholden to them. But it looked as though I didn’t have any other choice.

  Chapter 3

  “Grams, I’m home!” I called out as I strode through the front door of the tiniest apartment in all of Boston. Or, at least, it felt that way. It was a one-bedroom home on the top floor of an old walkup in the Allston neighborhood with water-stained ceilings and creaky doors. The kitchen and living room melted into one, and the couch doubled as my bed. Needless to say, I wasn’t living it up in style unless garbage chic was the latest hot thing in real estate.

  As always, Grams sat waiting in her favorite old rocking chair with bone knitting needles and a half-knitted shawl in her lap. She stared blankly out the window overlooking the dark city streets below, her head barely turning my way. I slumped into the faded blue recliner across from her and sighed, trying my best to keep the tears at bay.

  Grams blinked a few times, coming back into herself. I glanced away from the dark blue pillows of skin underneath her eyes and stared at the mantel over the fireplace packed with her favorite ceremonial masks from Europe. If I sold those, I could get at least a couple of grand, but I knew it would kill her to lose them.

  “Zoe. I’m so glad you’re finally home. How was your day?” she asked, her mouth turning up into a wobbly smile. It was a dimmed version of the one she used to have, and I struggled to keep my face from showing how much it hurt me to see her like this.