The Rose Witch
The Coven: Old Magic Stand-Alone Novel
Chandelle LaVaun
For the nerdy book babes
Contents
THE COVEN READING ORDER
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
About the Author
THE COVEN READING ORDER
The Chosen Witch
The Lost Witch
The Brave Witch
The Rebel Witch
The Broken Witch
The Eternal Witch
The Aether Witch
The Fire Witch
The Hidden Witch
The Fallen Witch
The City Witch
The Wild Witch
The Frozen Witch
The Secret Witch
The Uptown Witch
The Empire Witch
The Rose Witch**
The Cursed Witch
The Rogue Witch
Chapter One
Chloe
December 2nd 2018
“Chloe, I said, we’re here.”
“Oh, bollocks,” I grumbled and closed out of the email I’d been reading on my phone, then shoved it in my bag. I looked up and reached for the door. “Sorry, in a bit of a daze this morning— Edith. Why are we here?”
Edith shrugged like she had no idea what I was talking about, but the blush in her pale cheeks and the curve in her lips told me she knew exactly what she was doing. Her gray-ish blue eyes twinkled beneath tortoiseshell glasses. “What’s wrong with here?”
“Well, I didn’t ask to be brought here, for starters.”
She grinned and wagged her dark eyebrows. “I thought you might fancy a f—”
“EDITH.”
She threw her hand over her mouth to hide her cackle. She failed.
I sighed and leaned back against the seat of her little old banger car. “Edith. It’s not even six in the bloody morning after an exhausting three days away—
“What? Rolland has a lovely home.” She tossed her graying-brown hair over her shoulder. “It’s as fit as he is. I see no reason you can’t unwind with him before you go back to Bodleian.”
“Codswallop. Cheeky but codswallop nonetheless.”
Rolland. My boyfriend of two years. I didn’t see him a lot. And that was predominantly my fault, in his words. Not that he was wrong. The first year I’d been preparing to apply for All Souls College and hadn’t wanted to be distracted…and since I’d got that fellowship I hadn’t made much time for him at all.
“Chloe, you spent our entire three days at Cambridge telling me how you wanted to fix your relationship with Rolland—”
“Yes, I know I said that—"
“And it’s December 2nd, your birthday is only a few days away.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “And your point is?”
“Your birthday and Christmas are coming. All that ‘tis the season rubbish, right?” She playfully shoved me. “Perfect excuse. Now go on up there and surprise him. Show him you are serious about him. Go on, I’ll drop your bag off to your flat later.”
“It’s six in the morning—”
“Breakfast in bed, Chlo.” She reached forward and tugged on my light gray jacket. “You look smashing in your little three-piece-suit.”
I narrowed my eyes even more. “Why are you pushing this? You don’t even like Rolland that much…”
She threw her hands up. “For Christ’s sake, I’ve barely met the man, Chloe. But you like him and I trust your judgement. Besides, think how lovely your children would be coming from two blonde haired, blue eyed parents.”
My stomach turned. I’d never wanted children. Rolland wanted me to have like five of the little monsters. I wasn’t a definite no on that but I was only twenty-two. I had time to decide. Rolland was thirty and already wanting to go that route. Stop it, brain. Stop convincing yourself you two aren’t right together without even trying.
Damn it.
“Shit or get off the pot, love,” Edith whispered.
I sighed. She was right. I didn’t need to be in the library this early. I could spend some time with my boyfriend. He would like that. Maybe I would even like that. I nodded and licked my lips, shoving the passenger door open.
“Wait, change your shoes.”
I frowned at her over my shoulder. “If me wearing Ugg boots prevents a morning shag, then he’s clearly not the man for me. Now let me go before I talk myself out of it again.”
As she giggled, I jumped out of the car with my handbag hanging off my shoulder. I slammed her car door shut before her laughter made me lose my nerve. My gaze swept up the stone wall of his building, landing on the third-floor balcony of his flat. This is exactly the kind of thing he wants from you, Chloe. Get up there.
I swallowed through a rush of self-conscious nerves and hurried to the front door. He’d given me a key to his place a year ago. It only took me a second to snag them out of my bag and let myself in. The metal keys jingled together as I sprinted up the three flights of stairs. By the time I got to his door, my lungs were screaming and I was breathing far too hard for such little activity. I need to exercise more. I bent over and put my hands on my knees to catch my breath and spotted my tan-colored Ugg boots. My flats were in my handbag for when I got back to Oxford, and for a moment I considered swapping now…but quickly changed my mind.
If my plan went as it was supposed to, my shoes wouldn’t be staying on long anyway.
With that in mind, I unlocked his front door and pushed it open — and gasped.
My body locked in place and my heart stopped.
My brain wasn’t computing what I was seeing. Rolland’s bed sat against the back wall of his studio flat…and directly in line with the front door. In the back of my mind I registered Paul McCartney’s voice serenading through the open room, but my ears zeroed in on the throaty, screaming moans of the naked woman sitting on his very naked lap.
All I saw was a whole hell of a lot of pale skin…and my boyfriend’s hands squeezing another girl’s massive tits as they bounced wildly. The image was burning itself into my retinas.
I needed to move. I needed to get the hell out of here. But my body was locked in place. Rolland sat at the edge of his bed with the woman’s back pressed tight to his chest so they were both facing me as she rode him like he was a Clydesdale.
The woman screamed my boyfriend’s name and threw her head back onto his shoulder. She reached up and dug her fingers into his hair with one hand and scratched her nails down his bare thigh with her other. Rolland groaned and cursed violently. The bed squeaked with every move and the woman screamed loud enough to wake the neighborhood.
My stomach turned and bile rose up my throat. Move, Chloe. MOVE. I leapt backwards — and slammed into the doorframe. Picture frames fell off the wall beside me and crashed to the floor, the glass shattering on impact.
Rolland looked up and gasped. His blue eyes widened and his face paled. “Chloe?”
“Excuse me—” The woman looked up and froze. She smacked Rolland’s arm. “You said she wouldn’t be back until tonight!
”
My breath left me in a rush. I knew her. Shelly. She was the American granddaughter of his neighbor one floor down and was in town on holiday. She was eighteen. My stomach rolled and I actually swallowed vomit.
“I…she wasn’t…I don’t…I…I—” Rolland stood like he wanted to come over to me but the movement made Shelly moan like she was getting paid for this. Rolland’s blue eyes rolled and he groaned.
Finally, my feet unglued themselves and I took off. He called out my name several times but I wasn’t stopping. I had to get out of here before the shock wore off and I bloody effing lost it. Tears stung the backs of my eyes. My throat and chest burned, like the oxygen I was breathing was pure acid. Or maybe I wasn’t breathing at all. My hands trembled. The world passed by me in a blur. I didn’t even realize I’d gone down all three flights of stairs until the cold morning air slammed into my face.
I stopped on the pavement and a sob ripped up my throat. I pressed my hand to my mouth and tried to hold it in. I was British, we didn’t cry in public. But I didn’t have a car. Edith had dropped me off. Rolland lived a couple miles from my flat in Oxford. My whole body was trembling. Little shocks shot up and down my limbs like electricity. My heart pounded in my chest. Thump, thump, thump, thump. Images of Rolland screwing Shelly replayed in my mind to the beat of my pulse. I gagged and sprinted down the pavement.
There was only one place I could go…Red Rose Books. The privately owned and operated bookstore that’d been passed through the Lancaster family for centuries. My family. I couldn’t even remember which one of my family members currently owned it. I wasn’t sure any of them actually knew. All we knew was that it kept running. I’d been working there off and on since I was fourteen and it was only a few shops down. No one was out on the streets at six in the morning in early December, it was far too bloody brittle out, so no one heard the sobs ripping up my throat…or the runaway tears I couldn’t swipe away fast enough.
My chest burned the whole way down the street. Don’t cry, don’t cry.
The backs of my eyes stung more with every step, like there was a countdown to privacy…to when I could fall apart. Almost there. Hold it in. Don’t cry, don’t cry. I felt the wetness on my cheeks, but those tears didn’t count. Those were runaways, the prequels, the warning signs of the storm coming.
By the time the red wooden door to the shop came into view, my vision was warped and my legs were shaking. My nose was already clogged, so my throat was aching and growing tight from the cold air I was gasping in. I reached into my handbag and grabbed my keys as I sprinted to the door.
I felt like I was being torn in two. Like the world was closing in around me, weight crashing on my shoulders while needing to scream until I had no voice. Like an anchor was tied to my feet and dragging me to the bottom of the Thames. Like a volcano about to erupt. I was shooting into the sky while plummeting to the ground. It was a raging storm growing inside of me, a roaring tide rising, and rising, and rising until my face was pressed against a cement wall gasping for the last of the air around me. I was drowning, suffocating, yet any moment I was going to explode.
I shoved the antique gold key toward the lock but my fingers were trembling too hard and the metal tip slid off to the side. I cursed and gasped as I tried again. And again. Every time the key scratched across the lock but missed the hole.
“Come ON,” I groaned through clenched teeth and stomped my foot.
Finally, the key slid into the groove and I turned it. The sound of the lock clicking open was a sweet relief. Sometimes the stupid thing got stuck, so I threw my shoulder into the door to force it open but gravity took over and my shaky legs were no match for physics. I tumbled through the foyer, crashing into the opposite wall and bouncing off only to slam my hip into the tower of new releases just inside the store.
The volcano erupted inside of me and a wild, heavy sob ripped up my throat. Tears burst from eyes and poured down my cheeks as the tower of books toppled over. I threw my hands out to catch them but it was too late. The books crashed onto the ancient hardwood floor, flipping open or upside down. I cursed and reached for them but a wave of dizziness washed over me and I staggered to the side. My shoulder hit a shelf and three rows of books rained down. I winced and hissed as hard-edged spines knocked me in the head and shoulder.
“Damn it,” I cried out and sagged against the wall, letting the tears pour.
My legs wobbled and my fingers trembled. Every nerve ending in my body was tingling with little shocking pulses, like I’d been electrocuted. A glowing red light shined in from the front windows. I had no idea where it was coming from but it lit everything around me in a deep red tint. The lights, Chloe, the lights! I stumbled to my right and threw my hand out toward the light switch when something flashed in front of me.
I looked down – and choked on a gasp.
Bright golden light was pouring out of every open book on the ground like someone had lit a spotlight from inside of them. And then the light moved. It swirled and shifted and then formed into…into…people. Golden holographic people leapt from within the pages of the books, their transparent feet standing on the spines. A strange scream-gasp ripped free from my mouth and I staggered back, slamming into the wall again. My eyes widened. My heart stopped.
Each of the open books were shining with life right in front of me. One had a tall glowing man with wings and a bald head that held two tacos in each of his hands. A one-eyed black cat sat atop another, eating from a box of chicken nuggets beside him. I glanced left and right, then right to left. Pictures leapt from the pages in front of me – a wild eyed guy holding a trident, a tall skinny boy with the Mark of Cain on his forehead, and what looked like Medusa texting on an iPhone.
What? What – what’s – I don’t – no, I’m going crazy.
I turned to run and screamed. Two men towered like two feet over me. One had black wraparound sunglasses on and long black hair that fell from a widow’s peak. The other had diamond-like eyes, a goatee, and a strange tattoo on half of his face. Both wore black leather and were strapped with weapons – and neither were real. I stumbled backward as the two glowing, holographic men hissed and bared long fangs.
None of this is REAL!
They took a step forward and I panicked. I grabbed a book off the shelf and tossed it at them – but it soared straight through their ghostly bodies and landed open a few feet away. A massive basilisk leapt from within the spine, then crashed down on the floor. I cried out and spun back toward the door but red smoke shot out of my palms and slammed the front door shut.
I screamed and scurried back, swatting at my hands, but that only made it worse. The more I swung my hands around the more smoke came out. It was a scarlet river rushing out of me, like blood gushing from a vein. I shrieked and flicked my wrists, sending the red river everywhere. It shot across the front of the bookstore like a pinball, and just like Harry waving the wrong wand in Olivander’s, books exploded off the shelves wherever it touched. With every book that flew off the racks, glowing pictures danced from within the pages.
No, no, no. This isn’t happening.
The red smoke billowed in the foyer by the front door, so I turned to my left to where another light switch on the other wall a few feet away. I ignored the red smoke coiling around my trembling fingers and flipped the switch. Soft golden light filled the room around me. I spun and my breath left me in a rush.
The paintings on the far wall were all moving.
Waves rolled through rivers. Soldiers battled with swords. Ballerinas twirled.
A chill slid down my spine. My legs buckled and I dropped to the ground. My teeth chattered together. My bones rattled. Streams of tears rained down my face and splashed onto my knees. That scarlet smoky river swirled out of me in every direction. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. I’m dreaming. Or I lost my mind. I’ve been working too much.
I had to get out of here. My handbag was laying on the ground a few feet away, half spilled out onto
the floor. I didn’t even remember dropping it. My phone was in there. I started to crawl towards it when heat exploded in my chest like someone had lit me on fire. I gasped and sat up straight, clutching at my body. My skin was hot to the touch. The heat burned up my sternum and into my throat. I gasped again and felt like I’d swallowed fire.
A shadow moved out in my peripheral vision. I froze. But then it moved again, slithering within the cloud of red in the far front left corner of the store. It’s just one of the books. I’m just crazy, that’s nothing. And then it took another step forward and I spotted two massive black paws that had to be bigger than my own feet. It stood up taller and I saw a towering shape that looked like the body of a dog, but the damn thing had to be almost as tall as me. Thick black smoke coiled around its body then wafted into the air above it.
It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.
A strangled kind of cry left my lips and the thing snapped toward me. Two tall, pointed black ears popped up, slicing through the red fog. One red eye and one gold eye glowed like Christmas lights in the dark.
Oh God, oh God, oh God. It’s FAKE.
I reached forward and grabbed my cellphone and the demon-dog lunged forward. It growled and snapped long razor-sharp teeth. I needed to move but my body was locked in place as it charged for me. I braced myself for impact. The fire in my chest soared and I gasped.
A loud, strong male voice ripped through the chaos and the demon-dog froze.
I turned toward the sound just as a tall man with leather-covered broad shoulders and dark hair walked through the foyer. I scrambled to my feet and two glowing gold eyes met mine. The fire in my chest erupted like a volcano, spewing molten hot lava through my veins. Between the red and black smoke, and the glowing pictures from the books, it was hard to even see the rest of him. All I saw was eyes in the darkness.
The Rose Witch (The Coven: Old Magic Stand-Alone Novel Book 1) Page 1
