The Bone Coven Chronicles: The Complete Series

by Jenna Wolfhart

  Except Dorian, of course.

  Too bad it turned out he’d been counting down to the second he could get as far away from me as he could.

  “I believe this calls for a vote.” The Summoner stood and placed his palms flat on the glistening oak table. He glanced from one man to the next, his solemn gaze sweeping across the room and driving everyone to silence. “Gentlemen, I bring forth to you the innocence or guilt of Zoe Bennett, twenty-one-year-old female of the Bone Coven. After hearing the testimony from Enforcer Dorian Kostas, I hereby propose that all charges shall be dropped, and that she shall be free to go. On the condition that she ceases her fraudulent activities.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but Dorian sent me a sharp look. His face said much more than words ever could. This was my one shot. The only chance I had to defend my innocence. They were about to clear me of the crime, and all I had to do was nod and smile from here on out. I was lucky I’d gotten away with my cons for as long as I had, but I hated to give them up when they were the only thing that kept a roof over our heads.

  “All in favor,” the Summoner continued, “raise your hand.”

  The full council before me lifted their hands in the air, and a wave of relief crashed through my body, my breath flying out of my mouth in a whoosh of hot air. My name was clear, and I was free to go back to my life. Somehow, I’d done it, and in only a matter of days.

  Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward and smiled at the council. “Thank you for believing in—” But the moment was interrupted by a terrified shout.

  In unison, the entire room frowned and turned toward the sound. It came from outside the windows, from the direction of the metal gates. The Summoner stood quickly and threw open the curtains. And as my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the evening, I sucked in a sharp breath at what I saw. At least twenty people pushed through the front gates that now sagged limply on their hinges. The broken body of the guard was strewn across the lawn. And the form that hunkered over him had blood dripping from his mouth.

  These weren’t just any people.

  The vampires had come.

  Chapter 12

  The Summoner flicked the blinds shut without another word and motioned for the council members to rise. Even though the Magister was in charge of the coven, his second in command was tasked with leading wartime matters. And this situation definitely called for a man who was battle-scarred and seasoned.

  “There are a couple dozen of the Daywalkers outside,” he said in a clipped tone, disdain clearly dripping with each word. “There are twelve of us in this room, if you include the Magister and myself, though I believe it’s best to get our leader to a safe location. Plus, we have some Enforcers in the east wing.”

  Dorian held up his hand. “Fourteen in this room.”

  The Summoner frowned. “I’ll accept your help, but an untrained witch will do nothing but get in the way.”

  Irritation burned hot in my veins. “I might not have much training, but I’m perfectly capable, thank you very much.”

  “Yes, capable of conning people.” The Summoner gave me one last lingering look of disgust before turning back to his council members. My face was hot, my cheeks flaming and my neck a furnace fire. I hated being dismissed, like I meant nothing. Another reason why I wanted nothing to do with this coven after the second I got out of here.

  If I ever got out of here.

  “You will break into groups while I smuggle the Magister out the back gate and to the safe house. Six in one and five in the other,” the Summoner said. Obviously another shot at me. “Group one will take the west wing of the house while group two will take the east to alert the Enforcers of our situation. Daggers out, runes drawn. Best to have a mixture of offensive and defensive spells in each of your groups.” He turned to me once again. “You will come with the Magister and I.”

  “I don’t think so.” I shook my head and took a step back. “I’m staying here to help out. Not running like a coward.”

  His eyes narrowed, and the Magister flinched in the corner of my eye. Whatever. It was the truth. As the leader of the coven, he should be here with the rest of his crew instead of running off to a safe house before the fight even began.

  “There’s no time to argue about this,” the Magister said. “Let her stay and fight if that's the fate she chooses.”

  Dorian grabbed my arm as the twelve of us rushed into the quiet hallways. The vampires would reach the mansion doors at any moment, and each of us needed to be in place. Which meant I needed to draw my rune. I only knew a few defensive spells, something I hadn’t wanted to admit to the council. Shield would probably work best, though I’d never been particularly good with it.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Dorian asked in a low whisper, glancing around us. The council members flew down the hallways, their hands scribbling bone chalk onto their palms. “You can go to the safe house with the Magister.”

  “I’m staying,” I said as the rough chalk slid between my fingers. With a sigh, I drew the defensive rune and grabbed my dagger from its sheath. Not optimal, but it was all I had. “I’m not going to run from a fight.”

  “Shield, huh?” He drew his own rune on his palm, holding it up for me to see. Blast, which was at least ten times more powerful than the spell I had chosen, and it was an offensive one. “Watch those Daywalkers get through a few bolts of this bad boy.”

  We slapped high-fives, and I grinned until I remembered that he’d been itching to get away from me only moments before. A burden, that was what I was. Not a partner. My smile faded from my face, and I took up residence behind a marble bust of a Magister from a hundred years before. It didn’t hide me, but at least it could act as a temporary shield.

  Down the hallway, there was a loud chunk of cracking wood, and then the eerie sound of squeaking hinges echoing in the hushed silence of the mansion. The vampires had kicked the door in, but their footsteps were so quiet that it was impossible to tell whether they’d crossed the threshold of this place.

  “Are they able to get in?” I whispered to Dorian.

  He dropped his mouth to my ear, his lips whispering against my skin. I couldn’t help but shiver. “This is no one’s official home, so they don’t need to be invited inside.”

  I nodded. It seemed like a terrible move in a security sense, but until now, it hadn’t really been needed. With the peace treaty firmly in place between the Bone Coven and the Daywalkers, there was no reason to develop further measures against them. Until now.

  “Come out, come out!” A chilly voice called. “We need to speak to your Magister.”

  Silence answered the vampire.

  “If you don’t take us to him, then we’ll have to find him ourselves, and I don’t think you want us to do that.” The voice drifted a little closer. “You saw what happened to your friend at the gate. Don’t make us hurt anyone else.”

  Before anyone could move, Dorian shifted from my side and strode down the hallway, his arms swinging casually by his sides. I wanted to cry out and stop him, but he was already halfway toward the lobby before my mind truly grasped what he was doing.

  “Dorian, don’t,” I whispered. My voice echoed off the walls, and I froze. The warlocks around me shot me frowns, shaking their heads. I was an amateur to them. A nobody. They probably thought I’d just get in their way when it came time to sink or swim. Steeling my nerves, I held my runed palm tight against my chest and tightened my grip on my dagger. Even though all my magic had been child’s play up until this point, I could do this.

  “Good afternoon,” Dorian said when he eased to a stop in the lobby, facing the vampires who were still out of my line of sight. “The Magister and Summoner are unavailable at this point in time. You won’t find them here. So, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  His words were pleasant enough, but his tone held dangerous hints of violence, all sharp along the edges. He crossed his arms over his chest and stood tall, not even bothering to go for a weapon. It was a
show of power, of dominance, and it would have worked on a warlock or a witch.

  Didn’t seem to have much effect on the vampires though.

  A long, low sniff echoed down the hallway. “Interesting. I wouldn’t have pegged someone like you working for these weaklings. Now, step aside. I don’t want to start a fight, but I will if that’s how it’s going to be.”

  Dorian flinched. Someone like you. What did that mean?

  “As I said, the Magister isn’t here, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Dorian said. “If you insist on having a word with him, I can take your name and your number, and he’ll return your call.”

  A laugh bubbled up in my throat. I pressed my lips together to keep it from spilling out. It seemed utterly ridiculous, the way he was speaking to these creatures, as if they’d stopped by for a meeting or a chat. Instead, they’d killed the guard out front and left his body oozing blood.

  “He’s flown the coop, hasn’t he?” A bitter laugh was joined by a chorus of others. “I should have known. When the going gets tough, your beloved Magister flees and hides. He doesn’t stand by his men, like our leader does. Did you ever wonder why?”

  “Your attempts to bait me aren’t going to work,” Dorian answered in a cool voice. “Now, I’ve asked you to leave twice. I’m going to ask you again. After that, we’re going to have to forcefully remove you from the property.”

  “Well, consider us warned.” The voice turned vicious and dark. “But we’re not leaving until we get what we came for.”

  “And that is?” Dorian asked, raising his eyebrows. Everything about the way he spoke suggested a man who was very much at ease and in control. But his fists were clenched by his sides, and his legs twitched, like he was preparing to launch into a fight at any given moment.

  “Your Magister,” the voice slithered out the words in a hiss, making my skin crawl with unease. Dorian frowned and turned toward me, meeting my gaze from across the distance. The look in his eyes was hooded and dark and full of confusion. He didn’t know what to do any more than the rest of us did. With a quick flick of his fingers, he motioned for us to move. But not toward him. Away from him.

  He was trying to get us to leave.

  No, my mind shouted as the others turned their backs on Dorian, rushing quickly down the hallway toward the back exit. They were going to follow the Magister and the Summoner, leaving the other half of the council to battle with the vampires.

  Cowards, I thought. Just a bunch of cowards.

  All this time I had imagined the coven leaders as these larger-than-life mages. They were strength and power and courage. Sure, they sucked when it came to taking care of the daily operations of the members scattered across the city and state, but I had told myself that was simply because they were small in number, just like the rest of the covens.

  But being here had opened my eyes to a different reality, one I was certain I didn’t like. They weren’t special. They were just regular warlocks who had gotten sucked into positions they probably didn’t even want. And they ran at the first sign of conflict.

  The only leader I saw was the Enforcer down the hallway, trying his best to save all of them. All of us.

  And now I was very much alone in this wing of the house with only the marble statue to keep me company. My heart ramped up speed, and my mouth went dry. If a group of vampires stormed this way, then…well, I’d probably end up dead.

  Another long sharp sniff punctuated the padding footsteps falling away. I froze, hoping they couldn’t smell that I was suddenly the only witch in this wing. I was an easy target. Dorian might be able to stop one or two, but he couldn’t take on all twenty of them by himself.

  “They’re running.” A vampire stepped beyond the edges of the wall and suddenly came into focus. He was a thin, pale man who stood at a dizzying seven feet tall. He swayed, almost as if he was being blown about in a light breeze, his lips curling to reveal two very pointed teeth. “Your beloved council is fleeing just like your Magister. Now, get out of my damn way.”

  The vampire sliced his long fingernails through the air, cutting the thin material of Dorian’s black shirt. With a scowl, Dorian jumped back and threw up a hand to block the next advance. Throw after throw at an impossible speed. It was like a dance, their swift movements almost syncing in time. My breath shuddered in my lungs, and I took another step back. I didn’t want to run, but I also knew I couldn’t fight like that.

  Dorian finally landed a blow, and the vampire flew out of my sight, slamming hard into a wall. A chorus of rage rang loud, and the pounding of footsteps shook the floor under my feet.

  Dorian whirled to me, his mouth wide and his pupils almost swallowing his entire eye. “Get out of here, Zoe. Now!”

  My feet felt stuck to the floor, encased in an immovable liquid anchoring me to this very spot. Dorian said go and my brain said go, but everything inside my soul wanted to run straight toward him and do whatever I could to help. The vampires were charging him, half the council had disappeared out the rear gates, and the other half was searching for a back-up crew that might not make it here in time.

  He was alone. As tough as he was, I couldn’t leave him.

  Without waiting even a second longer, I jumped up from my crouch and charged down the hall, waving my dagger desperately before me. My eyes burned with unshed tears, and my throat felt raw from the scream I held inside. Dorian stared at me, his mouth open in shock, but a flicker of admiration sparked in his eyes. A slight smile crossed his face, and then he turned toward the vampires and roared.

  The other half of the council must have seen me run because they quickly followed suit, sprinting out from behind closed doors and joining me as I raced down the hall. They’d found the Enforcers, and there were at least twenty of us now. From that point, things moved fast. Almost too fast for me to comprehend. The lobby came into view, and my heart almost rocketed out of my chest.

  The vampires were everywhere.

  At least twenty of them, quietly surrounding us with carefully-controlled anger churning in their eyes. The overhead lights went out, plunging us into darkness. Electricity skittered through my veins as my power began to hum, building in intensity as my eyes adjusted to the sudden shadows. With shallow breaths, I scanned the room. The vampires were smart. I’d give them that. There were enough statues and warlocks in the eerie space that it was difficult to tell what was what and who was who.

  “Zoe.” Dorian snapped his fingers. “By me.”

  He stood to my left, his voice low. Even if he hadn’t spoken, I would have known it was him. It would be impossible to miss his body, the way his thick muscles carved a sharp V to his narrow waist. And I could smell him as he shifted closer, his musky aroma shot through with leather and pine.

  “What’s the plan?” I whispered back, hoping the vamps couldn’t hear me.

  He turned to face me. “Stay alive.”

  Shouts punctuated the air like shots, coming from every direction. I crouched and whirled, raking my eyes across the shifting shadows. Everywhere I turned, bodies collided with bodies. And then, in between the fray, I spotted the tall, thin vampire who had spoken to Dorian. He ran straight toward me. I gripped my runed hand into a fist and threw out my arm, crying out as loud as I could. My fingers trembled as a surge of magic swam through my arm like tiny eels. I clenched my teeth in pain, but opened my hand regardless, letting the magic consume my hand.

  Come on, I thought to myself. Shield up!

  But the bone magic flickered, its orange flame dying out before it even came alive.

  The vampire slammed into me, and I crashed to the floor. My knees hit the hardwood, and my teeth knocked together, crunching my tongue. The bitter tang of blood filled my mouth, and I scrambled back when the looming form of the vampire slid into view. He smiled, his teeth stained with the blood of my coven. Anger and pain ripped through me. The warlocks were falling all around me, the men who had stayed on to fight the battle. And here I was, down on my back about to d
ie myself.

  The vampire shot closer, bringing his mouth only inches from my lips. I sucked in a sharp breath and pulled back. A drop of blood slid down his chin and plopped onto my neck. Tears filled my eyes. My ears roared with the blood rushing through my skull. He stared at me with such an intensity that it felt as though he could see into my soul.

  I tried to scoot back, but my hand hit something sharp. My dagger. Even though it felt impossible, I forced my face into a blank expression.

  “What is a witch like you doing here with the council?” he asked, his voice slithering over my skin like a snake. “They don’t let women in here.”

  “Maybe you’ve been misinformed,” I said in an icy voice as I slowly wrapped my hand around the dagger’s handle. As soon as the weapon touched my skin, my entire body sighed with relief, more so from the magic than anything else. This dagger belonged to me, and I belonged to the dagger. The only time I felt truly like myself was when I had it in my grip.

  Around us, the fight continued on, though the sounds became dimmer and dimmer as time went on. I didn’t dare glance around. If I took my eyes off the vampire for even a split second, there was no telling what he might do. His fingernails were long and pointy, a weapon of their own. And his fangs. One good bite, and I’d be long gone, though I had a feeling this one wanted to snack on my witch blood much more than he wanted to rip out my throat.

  His grin widened, which only enhanced the sharp glint off his teeth. Each one had been filed to a sharp point, whether by magic or by his own doing, I didn’t know. “Such a pretty little thing. I think I’ll take you home.”

  He reached out, his long sharp fingernails inching closer to my throat. It was now or never. Sucking in a quick breath, I yanked my arm out from behind my back and shoved the dagger into the side of his neck. With a howl, he stumbled back, clutching at the wound. Blood poured down the blade, staining the black handle a crimson red.