Personal Warriors

by Rachel A. Collett

  The image I produced in her mind was ridiculous: a huddled ball on the window seat. I quickly tried to appear more normal, but failed.

  “What is it, my niece?”

  The witch. I focused on that damning slip of paper. I held my breath as I searched the alcoves of her incredible mind for the answer. I had it within seconds. I released my breath, the relief too loud inside my own subconscious. She’s not the traitor.

  The muscles of her face twitched. “Traitor?” Hurt poured from her soul. “You worried I was a traitor?”

  22

  Coven Bound

  I leaned against the trunk of the tree, letting loose with a deep, exaggerated breath. My lips flapped together with the last bit of air. Madelyn’s baby watched wide-eyed, then the corners of her mouth turned up into a breathtaking, toothless smile.

  I laughed at her simple joy and kissed the top of her head already so full of thick, dark hair.

  “You love that little one so much,” Cheryl said, a few yards away.

  Yvette ran through the trees, chasing a bird that almost seemed to be playing with the girl.

  I hummed contentedly. “Her thoughts are so simple and beautiful right now.” I snuggled her, bringing her closer to my face to breathe in her infant scent. “And she smells so wonderful.”

  “Do I smell good?” Yvette asked, twirling in the grass. She slowed her pace, tiptoeing toward the baby. She lovingly stroked her forehead.

  “Thank you for being so soft with Adeline.” I inhaled deeply. “You smell like licorice and spring.”

  Forgetting her mild manners, she sprang into the air with a laugh and ran away. Adeline jumped; her eyes grew wide, startled by Yvette’s sudden flight. I mimicked her reaction, halting her cry, and earning another smile.

  “Now I know why The Three have children, even among all this death surrounding them.” I kissed her cheek, laying her across my tented legs to better see her. “Yvette and Addie, they’re so pure and wonderful.”

  “I figure you’re still working on getting”—Cheryl tapped her index finger to her temple—“all of that under control.”

  I shrugged. I had needed a respite from my new reality for a time. Tensions were high, but those most disgruntled with The Three were keeping their opinions to themselves, for the most part.

  It seemed we were not as discrete about the wedding ceremony as we thought. The information spread like wildfire and a lot of the residents were upset. We had been seen by none other than my favorite person, Bailey. I waited for the witch to show her face again, to interrogate her in my new special style, but she never did. She only damned herself the more she stayed gone. She was too young to have been a traitor to my mother, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t continued a work previously started by someone else.

  I took a deep breath. “I’ve mostly got it under control, I guess.”

  “And you’re not going to tell the residents?” she asked.

  Telling them would add to the frustration they felt about missing my ceremony—a ceremony that had nothing to do with them. At least that was what I told myself.

  I spared a wary glance at Cheryl. I was glad the others had thought to include Emily and Cheryl. I didn’t think I could handle them being angry with me as well, and if I were being honest, I would be upset if Ray and Cheryl eloped without inviting me.

  My dead fiancé’s mother hadn’t been forthright about her relationship with The Three’s record-keeper, but we all knew they were in one. I wondered when they would drop that bomb. And more importantly, would they stay on at the sanctuary, or would they leave me?

  “No,” I said, looking away. “I don’t think it would be a good idea to tell them. Not yet, at least.”

  I had stayed inside my room for a week, although I didn’t need anything near that long. It was a punishment—I didn’t trust myself to leave. I had also received two visions while in self-confinement, both of which the Heralds and the Healers thought best to take care of without the Defenders of humanity. At first, I had seen the wisdom in their request to exclude me, but now it grated on my very soul. Anxious to fulfill my true purpose and impatient to investigate the coven, I found it difficult to keep my tortured mind from straying.

  Control your powers, Ava. You must receive permission before entering someone’s thoughts… But doing so was almost impossible when thoughts were practically flung at me. Extreme emotions were hard for people to control—they screamed to be heard. Memories, on the other hand, were different: not as loud, and harder to pull from a subconscious. Secrets were at my fingertips. The initial pain and shock had been so great as to worry me, but The Three practiced with me constantly, only giving me time to rest short spurts in between.

  By the end of the week, I had almost learned to shut it off. Almost.

  “Well, I may not be a soul-reader, but I can tell you’re upset. Do you want to talk about it?” Cheryl asked.

  “I—” I grimaced, remembering to control myself before diving into someone’s subconscious. “May I?”

  She nodded her permission. I pressed the image of the Annihilator’s note into her mind.

  Her brows pinched together. “I see.”

  “It’s killing me not being able to investigate, but that changes tonight.”

  There was no traitor within the compound. Whoever this so-called traitor was, they were far away from the sanctuary. I would have to go to them.

  “Are you and Darius going to the coven?” Cheryl asked.

  A deep ache settled in my heart. “No. Not Darius.” I was going with Fiona. Men weren’t allowed. Not even the mate of the White Witch was permitted, which was ridiculous.

  A mental presence caught my interest. Violet’s thoughts were guarded, but not for any reason other than curiosity. She no longer needed to hide. Her actions had gained, if not the resident’s trust, at least their acceptance of her presence. This was a test. To see how near she could get before I caught her, so I ignored her until the baby’s eyes drooped. Adeline smiled, fighting her tiredness. I gently rocked her until the soothing motions sent her to sleep. I tucked her into the waiting stroller.

  Cheryl and Yvette joined me.

  “Will you take Addie back to her mother for me? I want to stay here a little longer.”

  Cheryl smiled. “Of course.”

  When they had left, I sat back against the tree, enjoying the warmth of the sun. I waited until Violet drew closer before addressing her.

  “Have you found him yet?” I pinned her with a stare and she froze. The sunlight blended with her silver hair.

  Her mouth widened into a wicked grin. “Very good, darling. Your new gift is quite powerful. I’m proud of you, but aren’t I a little too close for comfort? If I were a foe—”

  “Actually, I caught you ten minutes ago, halfway between the crop fields. You were annoyed that I had skipped lunch, but in all fairness, so did you. Why did you wait until the others left? You know Cheryl is comfortable with you.”

  “It wasn’t because of her that I stayed away.” She took a seat next the me and sighed, resting her head against my shoulder. “You held a baby.”

  “And?”

  She scrunched up her nose. “I hate infants.”

  I scoffed. “How can you hate infants?”

  “They’re unpredictable and ugly.”

  I laughed out loud. “Did you hate me when I was a baby?”

  “Yes.”

  I tsked beneath my breath. “Have you found him yet?”

  She sat up. Her black, demonic eyes travelled my face. “Jonathan has always been good at hiding, but I’m an even better tracker. I’ll locate him soon enough, don’t worry.”

  “You still don’t trust him?”

  “No, and neither should you. Until we can be sure of his response to you and your new mate, it’s not safe for you to make any contact with him. Jonathan is unpredictable. A loose cannon.”

  “That’s funny. He once said something of the same thing about you.”

  Later
that day, I stepped from the veil with Fiona, several miles outside a small town two hours north of Manchester. The bag over my shoulder was filled with necessities, enough for a week’s stay. The sun was quickly lowering on the horizon, warning us of the little time we had left to investigate.

  We trekked across a wet, green field, slipping through a crack in the low stone wall that separated the acres. I scanned the landscape for any threats, but only white, fat sheep, and blanketed cows milled the fields, content with their peaceful lives.

  We searched for signs of demonic attack, but neither of us was worried. Not yet, at least. Lessers, after all, did most of their work in the dark, and the Fallen had their lives to protect. If we saw any at all, they would wait. And I would be ready for them—anxious to experiment with whatever powers I received because of my new bond, and hoping it was better than just additional mind-reading.

  The crisp wind heightened my senses. I pulled my scarf tighter around my neck and nose, then glanced to my aunt. Her hair was pulled high into a loose bun. Tendrils escaped their confines, curling down her neck and sides of her face. I shut down any access to her thoughts, as tempting as it was to peek.

  “What did you tell the others?” I asked.

  She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “That you wanted to see the coven. A visit is past due anyway.”

  “It’s a shame the rest couldn’t come,” I said, but it was Darius I really wanted there. I felt exposed without him, as if an extra layer of protection had stripped away from my skin.

  “The coven is pretty skittish. If we all go, their guard will be up.” She continued her march through the green field, ignoring my slower pace. “And I know this is important to you. You can’t have their guard up when interrogating them for a traitor.”

  “Right.”

  “I’m just glad you no longer suspect me,” she said over her shoulder.

  I stopped completely. It was a barb, intended to sting, but I deserved it. I breathed a heavy sigh and raced to catch up. “It was stupid. I’m sorry I ever thought it.”

  She eyed me, her gaze traveling my face. “I’ll get over it soon enough. I want you to figure this out even if you have to use... you know.”

  “You want me to use my powers?” She ignored the question, letting her silence speak her answer, so I moved on. “Do you think the others suspect anything?”

  “They all know something is up, but they’re going on trust. Trust that you will control yourself. Trust that you have a plan to get the information you seek.”

  “I see.”

  Seeing futures has the same destructive capabilities as reading minds. Just because we can, does not mean we should. Elisa’s warning twisted my guts into a knot, but why would God give me an ability He didn’t intend me to use?

  Fiona seized my wrist, halting my trek. “Well, do you have a plan?”

  I fought the natural desire to pull away. “Of course.”

  Of course that was a big, fat lie. I had no idea what I was going to do. Guilt did a dance on my insides, but I disregarded it the best I could.

  I pulled from her grip, ignoring the intensity in her eyes. Nervously, I pressed the Demon’s Eye. Hepzibah, Selina, and Silicas had been near silent since the night of our ceremony, but the pendant still tingled against my skin, aware of my thoughts.

  We followed a stone pathway up a steep incline. The sky rumbled, threatening rain. Over the crest of the hill the view opened to a large, three-story estate. Its Elizabethan stone and mullioned windows blended with the gray sky. A small squeak issued from my lungs. This was not what I had expected. I froze in place, taking in its grandeur, then caught up again to Fiona.

  “What is this place?” I asked. An enormous wrought-iron gate swung open from a high stone wall into a manicure courtyard.

  She smiled. “The UK coven. This has been their home since the eighteen hundreds.”

  They owned a castle? And Bailey had acted all self-righteous about the luxury of our compound.

  Several dark, hooded figures emerged, moving in the opposite direction of the gardens. Further beyond the field, they disappeared into the dense forest that climbed the mountain behind.

  My eyes narrowed as I gestured with a nod. “What’s that about?”

  Fiona watched their rapid disappearance into the woods. “Not sure, but these are witches we’re dealing with. They’re a bit of a strange group.”

  “I’ve caught on to that.”

  Every foul thought of Bailey and the task ahead swept from my mind the closer we came to the coven. The estate was enchanting, fueling every regency fantasy I had ever had. I smothered my desire to twirl in delight, but even still I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on my lips.

  My boots echoed on the cobblestone drive, adding to the sound of tinkling water from a fountain in the center of the courtyard. The statue of a woman peeked from the shallow water to watch us pass. Flower beds lined the ancient foundation of the home and peppered the gardens.

  “This is strange.” Fiona cast her eyes up to the darkened windows. “Someone should’ve been here to greet us.”

  “What time did you tell them we were arriving?” I asked.

  “I didn’t. My visits are purposefully sporadic, but someone’s always on the watch. Wait here.” She slipped inside the building without a backward glance.

  “Great.” I turned in a circle, taking in the breathtaking beauty.

  “The great Defender condescends to visit at last.” Roslyn’s voice doused my rapture, bringing me back to my senses. She straightened her spine at the entrance into the estate.

  “Where’s Fiona?” I asked, keeping my irritation in check.

  “Inside choosing your room. You’ll have to share with the Mother Witch. You may think you have celebrity status, but here we all have to share.” Her plum-colored robe draped over a matching, figureless gown, its length to the ground. A large ring caught my attention. A smooth turquoise stone sat upon the center, running knuckle to knuckle. Noticing my preoccupation, she tucked it away into her sleeves.

  Did all witches wear gaudy jewelry?

  “What’s the significance,” I asked with a nod of my head.

  One brow lifted. “Excuse me?”

  “The ring. It has meaning, doesn’t it? Does this one help heal? Translate ancient script? Does it make you fly?”

  Her lips pinched together in a thin line. “It’s just a ring.”

  But she was lying. Her anxiety was palpable. Before I could voice my snarky question, a woman slipped past her in a hurry, breaking Roslyn’s haughty glare. The girl’s pale eyes swept over me, and in that instant she passed me off as unimpressive.

  I eyeballed the witch until she lost interest and continued her path. “We seem to have come at a bad time. Where is she going?”

  Roslyn’s lips twisted into a crooked grin. “Some things are sacred. We do not like to speak of them. However, you may come and witness for yourself. Witches are always welcome. You could add your power to that of the others.”

  Despite her roundabout speech, the answer to my question was already there in her mind. My attitude soured. What bad timing for our interrogations.

  “I’m not a witch. And is the Great Rite really that sacred? Most everyone has heard of it.” Roslyn’s mouth clamped shut, her face turning a satisfying shade of red. I smiled as the contempt for me hurled from her mind. I rattled off the little of my own knowledge I actually did have on the subject. “Sexual intercourse between two chosen vessels—”

  “Did the Mother Witch—”

  “—done in a belief that by doing so they’ll draw additional power and strength. No, Fiona didn’t tell me,” I finished, relishing the breakdown of her mental defenses.

  She hissed, looking away. “It is not a belief. This is why The Three should not have chosen someone so naïve.”

  “I thought you didn’t approve of men within your coven.”

  “They’re not permitted in our coven, but they have their purpose
,” she said, sparing me a glance. “In our rite, the witch is the summoner, the man her target, as it should be. He will pay homage to the Goddess tonight.”

  I heaved a vocal sigh. “So you turn sex into a spectator’s sport?”

  “We all benefit from the sacred act. Our coven needs additional spiritual intervention. These are frightening times. With the new Guardian and his unexperienced Defender, we need all the help we can get.”

  My nails dug into my palms.

  “We, of course, know of your rather speedy ceremony,” she said with a patronizing lift of her lips. “I offer my congratulations. Or my condolences.”

  I mirrored her smile. “Thank you. And why aren’t you with the others at your rite? Don’t you need the additional power?” But Roslyn had no powers, only years of lies and manipulation to wield at her fingertips. She was a fake—a charlatan. Even her own subconscious fought to believe the lie she had told herself since she was a child.

  Something ticked inside her brain. Unease suddenly made her fidget beneath my gaze. Her fingers caressed the turquoise ring nervously, but she wouldn’t believe that a girl this young could be as powerful as they said.

  She shook her head, her mental shield raised. “I don’t participate. None of the council members do. We only preside. It’s given to the youth whose powers are in their prime.”

  “I assume Bailey has already left. Or is she inside? I just have a few questions.”

  “She’s not here. We sent her on an errand. She won’t return until tomorrow afternoon.”

  “An errand?”

  But Roslyn ignored my question. “And Bailey has already been married. Because of it, she’s practically ancient.”

  I scoffed. One brow raised. “Really? And you are…?”

  “I go as the head priestess to ensure the rite is done properly… and I’m late. If you’ll excuse me.”