Bound

by Christina Garner

  Quinn laid his hand against her cheek.

  “Hypothesis: Even supposedly smart guys can be stupid sometimes.” He smiled as much as his swollen face would allow.

  Eden knew she should go. It was the right thing—the only safe thing—for Quinn to be away from her. If he wouldn’t break it off, she needed to. But when Quinn kissed her, she didn’t pull away.

  “I promise you I’m going to get better.” Her eyes welled with tears. How did she have any left?

  “I know you will.” The way Quinn said it made Eden believe, and an idea occurred to her.

  She reached into her purse and retrieved her phone. Quinn watched as she sent the text.

  Eden—I need a favor.

  “You’ve got some serious balls.”

  Alex stood in Quinn’s doorway with her arms folded in front of her chest. Her color was better, her eyes back to cut emeralds.

  “Thanks for coming.” Eden stepped back as Alex brushed by her.

  “I’m not doing it for you.” She jerked a thumb toward Quinn on the sofa. “He shouldn’t have to pay for your mistakes.”

  “He’s sitting right here.” Quinn’s expression was flat.

  “But you’re not sitting, are you?” Alex looked him up and down. “You’re reclining because you can barely move after that demon had his way with you.”

  “He moved well enough when he pulled you from a burning building.”

  Alex shot Eden a look—either because she didn’t like being reminded of being helpless or because Alex laid that, too, at her feet.

  She knelt beside Quinn. “Hold still.”

  Quinn’s eyes darted as Alex’s hands hovered above him.

  “Seriously?” Alex rolled her eyes. “You’re sleeping with this one, but I’m the one who scares you?”

  “It’s okay.” Eden perched on the arm of the sofa and placed a gentle hand on Quinn’s leg. “Just let her do it.”

  All these souls and none of them know how to heal.

  She hated owing Alex, but she hated seeing Quinn in pain even more. Desperate times.

  Eden sensed the magic Alex weaved but couldn’t see it. She was cloaking her flows. Anger bubbled in Eden’s belly.

  “Of all the magic, you hoard a healing spell?”

  Alex’s eyes glittered as she worked. “Healing spells are precise. If you’re off even a fraction, you can do far more harm than good.” Quinn’s eyes bulged, and he gasped, a sign the spell was doing its job, reordering the cells of his body. “The fact that you don’t know that confirms you aren’t ready to learn the spell.”

  Eden’s cheeks warmed with anger—not only at Alex but herself. Alex was rude, but she wasn’t wrong.

  Quinn’s breathing slowed, and Alex lowered her hands. His face was Quinn-shaped and free of bruises. Eden rushed to his side and traced a hand on his cheek.

  Alex stood. “He needs food and rest.”

  Quinn sat up, twisting this way and that, seemingly pain-free. With care, he pulled the bandage from his arm, eyes widening at the new, pink skin. “This is…wow. Thanks. I owe you.”

  Alex gave a dismissive wave. “We’re even.”

  When Alex closed the door behind her, Eden slid beside Quinn and folded herself into his arms. The rhythmic beat of his heart filled her with the first peace she’d known in a day and a half. She glanced up at him and stroked his cheek. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but black and blue are not your colors.”

  Quinn smiled and pulled her closer. They lay, arms and legs wrapped around each other, until a loud rumble emanated from his stomach.

  “Pizza?” Eden asked, reaching for her phone.

  “With everything.” Quinn grinned.

  Eden tapped the order into a delivery app, a stray thought causing a catch in her throat.

  Carolyn will never eat pizza again.

  Chapter 5

  The sight of Coventry House looming on the hill reminded Eden of when she’d first arrived, with no idea what was in store. She’d been a mix of fear and excitement, but what she remembered most was the hope. She’d been sure that a new school in a new place would mean a new life. And she’d been right, just not in the way she’d thought: trading dreams of the boogeyman for nightmares made flesh. Starting fires in her sleep seemed downright wholesome now.

  “It looks the same.” The chill of a New England autumn created a misty form to Sarah’s words. “How can it look the same?”

  Repairs had been made—of the magical variety—but Eden didn’t say that. She knew what Sarah really meant. She’d been asking herself a similar question all day. How could anything ever be the same when so much had happened? How could life go on all around them when it had ceased for so many?

  “It doesn’t feel right—us going back so soon.” Eden flashed back to Davida’s words about needing to leave and a coming storm. She hadn’t told Sarah and wasn’t sure why. She shivered, unsure if it was the weather or her unease.

  “Life here is never going to be completely right again, is it?” Sarah’s eyes were wet.

  “No.” The truth landed hard and settled deep. “But maybe someday we’ll feel better.”

  They started up the steep hill.

  Quinn had dropped them off at the bottom at Eden’s insistence. The less the Council saw of him, the better. After the private ritual, Coventry House was holding a public memorial which he would attend, but so would half the town. No reason to highlight their relationship.

  The day had been gray, and their shadows were faint as they stretched out in front of them, leading the way.

  Sarah broke the silence. “I found something. At least I think I did.”

  Eden stopped short, her heart leaping to her throat. “To banish them?”

  Sarah shook her head. “Not yet, sorry. This is more of a bandage than a cure.”

  “I’ll take what I can get. Tell me.” Eden started up the hill again.

  “It’s a variation of the binding spell. I think it might keep Bes’tal in check.”

  If she didn’t have to worry about Bes’tal taking over, Eden could get some sleep. “That would be amazing.”

  The pair reached the top of the hill where sisters huddled in small groups. Their eyes darted to both her and Sarah then away, some wearing expressions of open hostility.

  Sarah squeezed Eden’s hand. “They don’t know what you did to save them.”

  Eden wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a wave of nausea washing over her.

  And they never will.

  “It’s not bad enough we’re grieving? We have to be freezing too?” Brianne scowled and pulled her scarf up over the lower half of her face.

  Eden wasn’t part of the conversation, but she couldn’t argue with her logic. She and Sarah had reached the grove behind Coventry House but hadn’t been greeted by any of their sisters. The physical distance between them appeared small but felt massive.

  How will I ever get them to trust me again?

  Eden had been asking the same question about herself. She glanced at Sarah, who was studying the clouds with a furrowed brow. All her friend had to do was step away. She could leave Eden’s orbit and join the others, but she didn’t. It was a debt Eden could never repay.

  “Outdoor memorials are tradition,” Courtney said. She’d smiled at Eden and Sarah when they arrived but hadn’t approached them. “Sometimes that’s all we have left. Here.” A small ball of light bloomed in her hands, and she passed it to Brianne. “Warmer than gloves.”

  Brianne stripped off her mittens and accepted the orb, her expression softening. “Much better. Thanks.”

  The chime of a bell pulled Eden’s attention to the center of the grove where Davida, Mikel, and Alex stood. Grace had already gone, perhaps to deal with whatever storm Davida had spoken about.

  “It is time.” Davida’s voice rang deep and strong, pulling the sisters toward her.

  “This grove holds trees more than two hundred years old,” Davida intoned. “It has stood longer than any of u
s have been alive and, like Coventry House itself, will remain long after we are gone.”

  The sentiment hit Eden as comforting and cruel.

  She surveyed those gathered, studying the faces of her sisters. Sisters who no longer looked back at her. Even Paige refused to meet her gaze. They had been friends once—or as close to friends as Rebecca had allowed.

  There would always be a demarcation in time: before that night and after. Before that night, magic had been awe-inspiring and beautiful. After, it had become terrifying and deadly. Eden herself had become terrifying and deadly…to her sisters and to herself.

  Her eyes fell upon Davida at the head of the circle. Eden glanced away, hot shame coursing through her at the memory of taking some of her essence.

  A Wiccan exorcism wouldn’t bring back the lives Bes’tal had taken. Wouldn’t bring back Carolyn with her knowledge and ability to teach it. Wouldn’t bring back Rebecca’s devastating beauty and equally devastating tongue. Wouldn’t bring back—

  Sarah nudged Eden and proffered a tissue. Eden hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down her own face. She took it and wiped her cheeks. She didn’t deserve Sarah any more than she deserved Quinn, but she wasn’t strong enough to let her go either.

  Thank the gods Sarah had agreed to loosen the binding enough that Eden could access the tiniest fraction of power. If she hadn’t been able to resist Davida’s truth spell, she wouldn’t be at the memorial right now, she’d be in the Council of Magic’s version of a dungeon.

  Which might actually be a dungeon.

  She’d be awaiting trial and halfway to stripped. Eden didn’t think the Council executed people, but the force it would take to wipe her mind of Coventry House and witchcraft altogether would likely leave her insane or a vegetable.

  Maybe an insane vegetable.

  Eden’s shoulders heaved with stifled laughter, and she buried her face in her hands to mask the smile that had come, unbidden. Laughing at a funeral—what the hell was wrong with her?

  But that question had far too many answers.

  Davida’s voice cut through the noise of Eden’s thoughts. “All that was and all that shall be exists here, now, within us. So, too, do those we love. We summon them with our memories.”

  Eden stared at her feet as Alex spoke. “Carolyn believed a world without magic wasn’t one worth living in. Without magic, she knew humanity would turn hard. Harder, I guess. She devoted her life not only to preserving witchcraft but protecting and nurturing those who wield it.” Eden forced her eyes up and found Alex’s hard gaze locked on her own. “I only wish some had taken as good care of her life as she took of theirs.”

  Sarah bristled, but Eden gave a slight shake of her head. “She’s not wrong.”

  It was barely a whisper, but the glance Paige shot from over her shoulder said she’d not only heard but agreed. Eden cast her eyes down again while Alex continued.

  “Her greatest joy was teaching. Her face would light up when a pledge finally had a breakthrough. She would speak with such pride to the Council. Carolyn never wanted our gifts or potential to go unnoticed. But it wasn’t only strength in the power she valued, but strength in character. Just before…” Alex’s breath caught, and she swallowed. “Before that night, she spoke to me about Jules. About her dedication to magic and to her fellow sisters. I’m only sorry Jules never knew how much Carolyn valued her. It might have made a difference in—”

  Eden whipped her head up. Was she about to reveal Jules’s betrayal?

  Alex cleared her throat. “I wish Carolyn were here now. I wish she were here to tell me to stop being so mean to the pledges. I wish she were here to give me that look of disapproval I so often inspired. I wish she were here to tell me how I’m supposed to make sense of all this completely senseless loss. I just…wish she were here.” She swiped away a single tear and glowered, her eyes heavy on Eden. “But she’s not. So we just have to deal with it.”

  When Alex had finished, Sarah leaned close to Eden. “She is wrong, and if she’s going to be the one in charge, she needs to stop taking this out on you.”

  Alex in charge. It was temporary, but a bitter pill all the same. Even given the conversation she’d overheard at the hospital, the council members were leaving sooner than Eden had expected. Grace—who’d seemed the third wheel to the Davida and Mikel duo—was already gone. Wherever those two were off to, Grace had been called back to Salem to give a full report to the Massachusetts council headquartered there.

  It was only a matter of time before they called Eden to appear. She had to be herself by then. She’d fooled Mikel and Davida by the slimmest of margins. She needed rid of these voices, of this unending pit of darkness, before she faced further questioning.

  At Mikel’s invitation, Paige shuffled to the head of the circle.

  “I-I’m not much of a speaker. I wouldn’t be doing this if anyone else… Rebecca didn’t have a lot of friends.” She shuffled her feet. “I’m not trying to be mean, it’s just the truth. And the truth is she thought most of you guys were beneath her.” That Rebecca had considered herself above everyone was no shock, but hearing it said plainly—at a memorial service—brought surprised chuckles. “She might have been right. I’ve never felt about a friend the way I felt about Rebecca. She was kind of mean and really bossy, and sometimes I wondered why I put up with it.” Paige’s eyes grew misty. “But then she’d do something. She’d laugh at a joke I’d made or do my hair in that tousled, sexy way she had mastered, and I still cannot do for the life of me.” She gestured to her own frizzy mop and got more laughs. “When she did that, I felt…warm—like the sun had deemed me worthy to shine down upon.” She shook her head. “I know how pathetic that sounds. But we all have that friend. The complicated one, who’s kind of shitty and yet somehow makes you believe in yourself. That was Rebecca. I miss her. And she shouldn’t be dead.”

  Eden swallowed around the lump in her throat.

  Paige stepped back to her place. More sisters spoke, giving eulogies for Haley, Nicole, Megan… The list was long. Too long.

  “Sarah?” Mikel’s soothing voice brought Eden back from the dark corners it had ventured.

  Sarah’s steps were heavy as she made her way to the head of the circle.

  “Jules was special.” Sarah blinked, fighting back tears. “She didn’t like to talk about her past, but you could tell the world hadn’t been kind to her. She never really mentioned her family. I think that might be why Coventry House was so important to her.”

  Maybe a little too important.

  Eden chewed the inside of her lip. It was true Jules had betrayed her—offering her up to be consumed—but Bes’tal hadn’t left her much of a choice. She and Alex were the only ones who knew the truth, and they’d vowed to keep it that way. Eden hated keeping such a huge secret from Sarah, but if she could spare her best friend a fraction more pain, she would. All of Coventry House had suffered enough.

  “Jules believed in Coventry House and all it stood for—especially sisterhood. What happened, what we went through… None of us will ever be the same. Some cuts run so deep they never stop bleeding.” Sarah stifled a sob. When she continued, it was with resolve. “But we can go on. And we can honor those we lost by remembering we are sisters. All of us. It doesn’t matter who you like, or who you want to hang out with. Or even who you might hold responsible right now. We’re family, and we need to act like it.”

  As Sarah strode back to her place, Eden felt the eyes of the others upon her.

  “Sarah speaks true.” Davida commanded their attention once again, “You are bound to each other, and you must not forget. Any bitterness or resentment you hold toward one of you will affect all of you.”

  Eden squirmed, wishing she could bolt. It was unlikely she would ever forgive herself; how could she expect anyone else to? Even if that stone had been more than Bes’tal said, it was only part of the puzzle.

  “Some of you have expressed concerns, and I want to address them now. It is true, event
s conspired so that Eden inadvertently acted as a portal key, and it’s for that reason the Av Rek gained entrance to our world.” Angry murmurs rippled through the crowd. “One truth, however, is not the whole picture. If you leave a door unlocked, whose fault is it if a burglar breaks in? If you dress provocatively and are harassed, who is to blame? It was a demon that killed Carolyn and your sisters, no one else. Remember that.” Her gaze swept the circle, letting her words sink in. “You should also know Carolyn asked us to come months ago when Eden killed the borahn demon.” Eden’s skin prickled; she hadn’t known that. “At the time, we were preoccupied with other matters.”

  Davida and Mikel shared a meaningful look, and Davida continued.

  “Had we come, we would have seen for ourselves how powerful Eden was, and how it left her vulnerable to this kind of attack. We would have taken the necessary precautions. If you have blame left over, place it on us.”

  Eden could hardly believe what she was hearing, and from the murmurs around her, neither could anyone else.

  “You need not worry this will happen again, and you must not place the blame for this upon your sister, Eden. She may have been foolish, but she acted without malice. I have looked inside her mind and seen the truth of this. If you cannot trust her words, trust mine. All that separates the consequences of your own bad choices and hers is power. You would do well to remember it.”

  “Weird way to end a memorial service,” someone muttered.

  But it wasn’t the end.

  Mikel took the candles that ringed the altar and began passing them out. Soon, each sister held one. The flickering lights cast long shadows.

  “The veil slips, and we stand between worlds.” Davida’s usually harsh tone took on a trance-like quality. “Though we grieve for what was, the passage must be complete.” She turned to face the West, where the last remaining daylight slipped from the sky. “The sun sets in this world as it rises in another. So, too, will our loved ones journey on. May the gods grant you safe passage from this world to the next. We release you from your earthly ties so your journey might continue unencumbered by the burdens of this life.”