by D. H. Davis
Coven Deception
D. H. Davis
Austin Macauley Publishers
Coven Deception
About the Author
About the Book
Dedication
Copyright Information ©
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
About the Author
D. H. Davis grew up in Coventry and has always had a love for fantasy fiction. After leaving school, she gained a degree in Occupational Therapy and worked in children’s mental health services. In recent years, she has turned to teaching both, Health and Social Care and English, combining her two passions.
About the Book
Forbidden romance. Secrets and lies. Supernatural species. The town of Arcane Grove has a lot going on! Meet Brooke Lesley, a seventeen-year-old witch attempting to balance having a normal teenage life with having the impending responsibility of taking over as head of her coven.
One day, when an unfortunate incident reveals to Brooke that she's been at school with a vampire for the last year, the sworn enemy of witches, things get a little complicated. Brooke finds herself feeling an intense, uncontrollable desire she's never felt before; and ignoring friends, family and history, she embarks on a forbidden relationship that could jeopardise everything and ignite a centuries-old feud.
While Brooke battles with her coven and her conscience, she must also find a way to face an evil that threatens not only witches, but the entire town of Arcane Grove. Can she defend her coven, her town and her heart?
Dedication
To Anna,
who is and forever will be my inspiration.
Our shared love of all things supernatural gave me the idea for Coven and I hope you love it as much as I do.
Thank you, my dear friend.
You are in my heart always.
Copyright Information ©
D. H. Davis (2019)
The right of D. H. Davis to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528968454 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2019)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank my husband for the unwavering encouragement and support he has given me throughout the whole process of writing this novel. No matter how many project ideas I have, he empowers me to achieve them all. I love you always.
I would also like to thank my goddaughter for being my guinea pig and reading the book before anyone else, giving me feedback, and the confidence to keep going and producing something I am truly proud of.
A massive thanks to my parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles and friends. Your support made this book possible and I simply cannot thank you enough.
Prologue
The slim, redheaded woman stood tall over the unconscious man; his body draped hopelessly over a concrete slab in the centre of the cemetery. She stood with such a presence that it was chilling; a cold, calculated smile across her lips. The air was crisp with a breeze that almost howled. The man, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, had both his hands and feet bound by a thin, black rope, so even if he woke up, he would be helpless. Voices in the distance startled the woman into action. This was not the time to admire her prey – there was a job to be done. She strategically placed silver crystals in a triangle around the concrete slab, which aligned with a red painted circle on the ground. As she stepped back towards the centre of the circle, once again leaning above the unconscious man, she took a knife from her pocket, drew a fine cut across her left palm and extended her hand in a fist, over the almost lifeless man. Drops of her blood slowly trickled onto the man’s forehead and with this, her smile returned. Although she could see torch light in the distance, she knew her plan was well on its way and that their arrival could not stop her now.
As the distressed crowd entered the cemetery, she simply looked in their direction and stared piercingly into the eyes of the leading man.
Her glare still strong, she shouted, “Amplificet Potentia!”
No sooner had she spoke the words, red fire rose from the markings on the ground encircling the woman and her prey. Through the roaring flames, the woman saw the looks of dismay on the crowds’ faces giving her a sadistic satisfaction. Through their hatred, they began to hurl glowing green balls of energy towards the fire but it just made her smirk. Nothing could penetrate this level of black magic; the covens’ attempts were futile. She knew it wouldn’t be long until they all fell worshiping at her feet; the power she was about to possess would be unmatched.
“Stop this madness, before you kill us all!” bellowed the strong, handsome man leading the group.
He was barely visible through the flames but he had made his way to just outside the ring of fire. He was using his arm to shield his face from the blistering heat, incurring the horrendous burning of his flesh.
“You don’t know what you’re doing, the incantation won’t work!”
“Your pleading shows how weak you are, my friend. This power was within your grasp all along and you did nothing to take it,” the redheaded woman cried. “You are not worthy of your title, step back you fool, before you die. I want you alive to witness my reign!”
And with that the woman pushed her right hand forward, palm facing the leader and an unseen force pushed him backwards away from the flames, landing him near the rest of the group in a dishevelled heap on the floor.
The woman refocused her concentration on the blood dripping from her left palm and repeated the incantation, “Amplificet Potentia!”
More green energy balls flew in her direction with screamed pleas from the crowd but she simply ignored them, nothing could stop her now. She opened her left palm once more, placed it on the unconscious man’s forehead and screamed with all the volume she possessed, “Amplificet Potentia!”
As she repeated the incantation for the third time, the fire grew and drew towards her and the unconscious man. The heat was unbearable, the closer the flames got to her skin.
“No!” she wailed. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The blazing flames were upon her and everything went black.
****
“You have broken not only moral conduct but the foundation of coven law. Your crimes have not only affected this coven but have taken the life of an innocent ordinary and for this there is no forgiveness, no redemption, no way back.”
The b
rave leader was stood at an altar in front of a crowd of people. To his left, on her knees and in heavy, uncomfortable chains, was the redheaded woman.
“Usual trial procedures would dictate entitlement to a defence but this crime is so heinous that there is no possible defence. Coven law states what your punishment is. Your greed for power cost an innocent ordinary his life with a ritual and incantation that should never be spoken about, let alone attempted. For this, you will be stripped of your magic and banished from our coven, forever to live out your days in torment.” As he spoke, he was filled with a sadness which enveloped his body while the rows of faces before him turned from upmost anger and despair to relief that retribution was being delivered.
The leader then looked to his right at two largely built men and solemnly nodded his head. With that nod, the men walked towards the redheaded woman, lifted her by the arms and walked her directly to the leader, as he disembarked from the altar. In his tight grasp was a brush with black paint on the tip; he raised it to her forehead and began to draw. When completed, she bore an outer circle with a triangle in the middle touching the edges, followed by a smaller circle in the middle of the triangle – the familiar symbol reflected through the court. He paused at this point as if he were not quite ready to do what followed.
The redheaded woman used this pause to attempt to deliver her final words. “You can’t do this, I will…”
Before she could utter another word, he found his motivation. He leapt into action and painted the final mark on her forehead – a diagonal line through the crest.
The redheaded woman let out a piercing scream as her body slumped forwards. She was now unconscious and the deed was completed.
Chapter One
Oh crap! I hear my dad’s footsteps ascending the stairs and realise that I’m probably not going to get away with it this time. However, that doesn’t stop me launching myself across my room and reaching for the huge, cracked and worn black leather book that’s on my desk; our coven’s crest etched into the leather on the front cover in a deep shade of purple. I yank the delicate pages apart landing on a chapter called Illumination Incantations and manage to land my bum on the stool in front of my desk, just as my father walks through my bedroom door.
“Knock much?” I ask, pretending to look up from the book as if he had interrupted me mid reading.
“Good morning to you too, Brooke,” Dad replies. “Nice to see you up and at it off your own accord for once,” folding his arms and leaning on my doorframe.
“Well, I’d accomplish far more with less interruptions,” I remark, immediately regretting my arrogance as I remember that I didn’t press pause on the programme I was attempting to stream on my iPad. The only thing standing between me looking good and my dad laying down the law was Netflix buffering speed and for once, I wanted it to suck!
“I’m just glad to see you’re finally listening to your old man and using your time wisely.”
To my dismay, as he spoke, he began walking forwards and sat on my bed, right next to where my iPad was laying. This clearly wasn’t a quick pit stop and I am regretting entering into this standoff.
“I know we’ve been putting a lot of pressure on you lately, honey, but I hope you know it’s only because we know you can handle it. It means so much to us to see you taking your responsibility seriously.”
Great! He is even being nice!
“Thanks, Dad.” I sigh. He never pays me a compliment and the one time he does, it’s actually not warranted; I really am the worst daughter ever!
Dad smiles at me, gets up and kisses me on the forehead before heading out of my room. That’s when Netflix decides to ruin my life and begin streaming ‘Once upon a Time’ at a distinct volume. So close! I flinch anticipating what’s to come.
“I should have bloody known better!” Dad yells darting back into my room.
I struggle to tell if it’s annoyance at my deceit in his face or pride at catching me out; probably a bit of both but I decide to go with pride and make light of the situation.
“Come on, Dad, even you want to know what’s happening with Emma and Hook,” I reply with a cheeky grin, hoping our shared love of the show will get me out of this.
“Look, Brooke. I’m not an idiot. I know you have your A levels, dancing and your friends, and I’m glad. Your Mother and I, we want that for you, we really do, but unfortunately, you’re not a normal seventeen year old. I know that wasn’t your choice but you were born a Lesley and there’s nothing you can do about it. You have a responsibility.”
I spin round from my desk and look my father in the eyes so he knows I’m listening.
“You need to be putting the hours into this if you want to be respected as a leader,” he walks over, stands behind me placing his hands on my shoulders. “You can’t expect people to follow you if you don’t have the foundations of knowledge. Being powerful isn’t enough on its own.”
I place my hands on top of his. They’re rough and wrinkled, the kind of hands a hardworking man has, and his right arm is covered in white, raised bumps, the scars from getting severely burnt as a child.
“You know I get how important this is and how much of an honour taking your place is, but you can’t force it either. I’m studying coven law and history round-the-clock, practising incantations with you constantly and spending what little spare time I have shadowing the Elders. But at six forty-five in the morning, before I’ve even had breakfast, it just isn’t going to go in.”
Dad steps away from my chair and lifts his hands up as if he’s surrendering.
“Point taken, I’ll back off.” He softens, turns and heads out of my room, but of course can’t help himself from adding, “For now,” as he disappears.
Typical Dad, show concern but also let you know he expects nothing less than one hundred and ten percent. Don’t get me wrong, you couldn’t find a better father than Dean Lesley, he’s loving, generous, funny and devoted to his family but he’s also an almighty leader with which comes a whole other set of characteristics. You only maintain the respect of an entire coven by a fair but strict rule, and my Dad has that down. He’s not a man people want to disappoint and if you do, well, it isn’t taken lightly. It’s kind of funny seeing him make people sweat as on face value he looks like such a typical Dad. Scruffy old jeans and T-shirts that have seen better days accompanied by a greying head of hair and wild beard with wrinkled but kind eyes. I’m also not proud to admit he has been known to wear socks with sandals at times! So, when he commands a room full of powerful witches with a single look, it’s just not the demeanour you imagine from first glance.
“Breakfast!” I hear mum call from the kitchen and it’s like music to my ears as I realise I’m starving. I rush downstairs, after pausing Netflix with the view to catch up later.
As I enter the kitchen, to my delight, I smell eggs and bacon.
“Morning, darling,” says Mum as I pass her at the hob, pick up my already poured orange juice off the marble counter and head to take my seat at the dining table.
“Morning, Mum.”
“Did I overhear your father on at you already this morning?” she enquires as she walks over and spoons scrambled eggs onto my plate next to the perfectly cooked bacon rashers.
I nod as I sip my juice and Mum sighs. “You know he means well, hun. He just worries about you. He wants you to be ready and not overwhelmed.”
“How could I not be overwhelmed though, Mum. I’m falling behind at school because every minute is being spent on coven stuff but what good am I as a leader if I don’t have an education?”
Mum has now taken her seat next to me at the table.
“Brooke, I have faith in you and so does your father. He wouldn’t push you so much unless he thought you could manage it. Remember, anything worth having is difficult to achieve.”
I look at my mother and that love in her eyes immediately makes me trust what she’s saying. Jane Lesley definitely has that talent, people are drawn to her because of her kind
nature. I think that’s why she and Dad work so well together, she softens him with one flick of her wavy brown hair and she guides him to make better decisions as he trusts her wisdom and logic. Her gentle eyes are nearly always accompanied by a friendly smile and a welcoming embrace.
“I know, I just wish sometimes that our rules were different. Dad’s a great leader, it would just be so much better if he could carry on as head of the coven.”
Mum reaches out and tucks stray strands of hair behind my ear so she can see my face.
“It is a nice sentiment, love, but it’s been this way since the beginning and it’s not going to change. You are never more powerful than on your eighteenth birthday and that’s why succession changes when it does. You have the power to receive the mark, and you, my dear, are the first born of your generation, so it has to be you.”
“Besides, I’m far too good looking to take over. People would be jealous,” Sammy interrupts as he swoops in and steals the bacon from my plate, scoffing it straight down then giving me an enormous cheeky smile.
“Jeez, Sammy. You should wear a bell!” I reply, not wanting to boost his ego anymore by entertaining his comment about being good looking. He gets enough of that from the girls at school.
“Well, surely the future leader of our entire coven should have her wits about her no matter the time of day, ergo no need for bells,” he says winking at me whilst grabbing his own plate of breakfast and joining us at the table.
“Sammy, can we ever, at least, start a day without you trying to wind up your sister?” Mum enquires.
“In answer to your question, Mother, no, we cannot. It’s just so damn enjoyable. Besides, isn’t it what little brothers are for?”
We all share an amused smile knowing he’s right and that Sammy will always be Sammy. While he might be two years younger than me, Sammy towers above me making it real easy for him to overpower me physically when he wants to tackle me to the floor. This generally occurs at school in front of as large an audience as possible.
