A Little Dark Magic (The Little Coven Series Book 2)

by Isabel Wroth

  Astrid made a comforting noise of understanding, her hand sliding down Kerrigan’s arm to take her hand.

  “And just now?”

  Kerrigan lifted her chin to gesture at the empty space across the street, tears of frustration and confusion spilling down her cheeks.

  “He was right there. I saw Maksim standing right there, Astrid, smiling at me. I don’t understand. I’ve tried so hard to summon his spirit, but I can’t find it, and now he was right there in broad daylight? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Let’s go home, okay? I’m getting a really strong urge to do a reading for you.”

  Kerrigan shook her head, angrily swiping at the tears on her cheeks. “You don’t have to do that. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. We’re going home, so I can do a reading for you. Let’s go.” Surprised by the firm determination in Astrid’s tone, Kerrigan didn’t protest further.

  Shaken, she gathered up her things, unable to keep from turning in a slow circle, hoping to get one more glimpse of Maksim.

  With a compassionate murmur, Astrid put her arm around Kerrigan’s waist. “Come on, let’s go home.”

  Still not totally recovered from the shock, Kerrigan didn’t register getting in the car or the time it took to get home.

  She wouldn’t have known they’d parked without Astrid’s announcement, “I changed my mind about going to the house. Juliet will probably butt in to try and convince me to try her latest version of her hair potion. It reeks like skunk farts.”

  Numb, Kerrigan gave a blink and realized they were sitting outside the small strip center that had once been a fruit and produce market run by Rowena’s family. Rowena converted it into three spacious shops to host their coven businesses.

  The Blossom Shrine was the newest addition where Ivy sold all sorts of magical herbs and potions exclusively to the magical community. You couldn’t even see the beautiful green and gold logo in the window if you weren’t a supernatural creature or a witch.

  Rowena’s physical store, A Little Practical Magic, sat beside it, all cute and modern farmhouse style with a plethora of enchanted items to make everyday life that much simpler.

  From silk pillowcases that ensured you never woke up with bed head or pimples ever again, to dish soap that magically made all the dishes in the sink clean and dry themselves.

  Kerrigan loved the shoelaces that ensured she never got lost or stepped in gum when walking down the sidewalk, and the cloak pins that made a person’s coat or jacket stay perfectly warm in the wintertime were divine.

  To everyone’s shock and amazement, Juliet—the most wild witch they’d ever met—ran Rowena’s store and handled the online business with amazing success, allowing Rowena all the time she needed to continue producing the items they couldn’t keep in stock.

  When she wasn’t trying to blow up the house or poisoning them with unlabeled jars of stuff in the fridge, Callie went out with Rowena on house calls when enchanted items couldn’t get the job done to oust unwanted spirits or close portals to other realms.

  Right now, Juliet, Rowena, and Callie were away doing a particularly nasty cleansing in Pennsylvania. Kerrigan would have gone with, but Astrid needed someone to help run things here while Ivy and Uriah were off surveying land for a potential client in Canada.

  Astrid’s shop, Written in the Stars, came next in line. It looked simple from the outside, the window display filled with a rainbow of crystals hung on fishing line, resembling floating stars, inviting whimsy and rainbows into the space.

  Inside, Astrid had shelves tastefully packed with antique sextants, astrolabes, maps, books, little globes—anything and everything one could possibly need to chart the night sky or divine their future arranged in neat stacks.

  The deep cobalt and gold decor was both soothing and fantastic, and in the backroom, Astrid did her readings.

  She kept a firm grip on Kerrigan’s hand as she led the way through the quiet shop, urging her to sit down at the round table etched with constellations and symbols to help Astrid chart the cosmic course of her clients’ lives.

  Kerrigan’s shop was the last in the row, The Last Word. Dark, gothic, and everything a client would expect from someone able to summon their dead loved ones or help break the family curse.

  She drank the tea Astrid poured for her, the bitter sharpness softened by a sweet hint of honey. It brushed away the last of the cobwebs, allowing Kerrigan’s brain to catch up.

  She watched Astrid slowly let her magic move across the shelves, her hand spread wide as she passed it over the hundreds of different tarot decks and cups of special runes to find the right one for Kerrigan’s reading.

  It was always a sight to see. The air around Astrid shimmered and sparkled, her skin shining with a hint of starlight.

  “You really don’t have to do this, Astrid. I think my brain is just vomiting up twelve years of repressed memories and shit I haven’t processed about what happened to Maksim because I saw a vampire wearing a ruby tie bar.”

  Astrid gave a delicate snort. “Or maybe the Universe is trying to tell you something, and you’re brushing it off with rational explanations.”

  “Or that,” Kerrigan agreed, finishing off her tea. She didn’t look at the leaves that settled in the bottom, the fine porcelain cup giving a delicate click when she set it in the saucer and pushed it across to Astrid’s side of the table.

  “Ah, here we go.” Astrid’s satisfaction and amusement carried over to Kerrigan when she put a black and silver deck down on the table in front of her.

  “The Nocturne Oracle, very appropriate. You know the drill. Empty your mind, don’t think about what’s going on. Open yourself to the messages waiting to be heard.”

  While Astrid examined the pattern of tea leaves left behind in Kerrigan’s cup—a talent Kerrigan had never been able to master or truly understand—Kerrigan picked up the deck of thick black cards, feeling the slight hum of Astrid’s power emanating from them.

  When she finished shuffling and pushed the deck across the table, Astrid set aside the teacup without a word to pull the first card.

  A brilliant spray of silver stars glittered up at her as Astrid put the card in front of her.

  “Reversed. You’re not trusting your intuition, fighting your fears, and letting self-doubts rule you. Knock that shit off.”

  Kerrigan couldn’t help but give a little laugh. “Is this how you talk to all your customers?”

  “Only the stubborn, rational ones,” Astrid answered evenly, pulling the next three cards with a frown. “What didn’t you tell us about the day Maksim died?”

  The three cards indicated secrets that revolved around her relationship with Maksim, and when Kerrigan didn’t immediately answer, Astrid turned over another card.

  A silver snake twisted in knots across the black card, mirroring the sensations she felt as her belly coiled in on itself.

  The Silver Wives had originally taken the name, The Silver Serpents as an ode to the snake that entered the Garden of Eden and whispered in Eve’s ear to eat the forbidden fruit, but later they decided it was too masculine.

  Why was the Universe unpacking all this for her now?

  Was the Justice card for her?

  Had she not suffered enough to balance the scales on what she’d done?

  “Kerrigan,” Astrid murmured gently, “whatever it is, I’m here for you.”

  Kerrigan shook her head as another round of frustrated tears spilled over, a sigh dredging up from deep within.

  Clearly, the time for truth and confession was now. Kerrigan knew Astrid wouldn’t judge or condemn her, but it was still so hard to say the words out loud.

  “I killed him.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Vermont, twelve years ago…

  Kerrigan hadn’t ever tasted so much concentrated evil in her life. It was like she’d taken a shot of Chanel No5, licked blood off the back of her hand, and sucked on a brick of charcoal to cut the bitterly metallic t
aste.

  The reason why her mother had been so hard up about Kerrigan wearing something elegant on their ‘family outing’ and why she was so pissed when Kerrigan came out wearing a holy pair of black skinny jeans and her favorite, Practice Safe Hex shirt, finally made sense.

  Kerrigan stuck out like a hobo among the glittering throng of slender witches clipping across the white marble floors in shoes that cost as much as a third world country, wearing designer outfits straight off the runway.

  Mother had stars in her eyes as she looked around the grand foyer; her father seemed smug about something but wouldn’t say what had him in such a good mood.

  It couldn’t be the forty-five-minute wait to see whoever they were here to see or the blatant looks of hostility being shot their way by the unnaturally beautiful women.

  Mother had been on a rampage to get the most advantageous match for Kerrigan, and this was feeling like another step toward that goal.

  If this was some kind of dark magic spa where parents took their kids to give them complete makeovers or something to make them prettier, her mother was in for a nasty surprise.

  Kerrigan’s insides squirmed as she decided it was time to bite the bullet and tell her parents about Maksim.

  She’d definitely told him about her parents and their lofty plans for Kerrigan’s Pairing Ceremony. It turned into another one of those times when Maksim threw his head back and roared with laughter.

  She’d been in his arms, whirling gracefully around the dance floor at the masquerade ball he’d taken her to on Halloween. Maksim had worn a crimson coat and breeches, heavily embroidered with red and gold threads, his dark hair slicked back and a white skull mask covering half his handsome face. Very Phantom of the Opera.

  He’d brought Kerrigan to a costume shop the night before and told her to pick whatever she wanted, grinning from ear to ear when she’d chosen a full skirt of glittering black and a corset covered in jet beads and black rooster feathers.

  She’d felt like a shimmering Black Swan and loved every minute of the evening, especially when they’d stood like the prom king and queen to receive the best-dressed award.

  But during their victory waltz, when she’d confessed her fears of being Paired with one of the male witches a few grades higher than her and shared her mother’s ruthless plans on the matter, Maksim’s laughter filled the room.

  “You have nothing to fear, Kerrigan.”

  “You haven’t met my parents,” she pointed out morosely.

  Maksim ducked his head to press a kiss to her bare shoulder, turning to whisper in her ear.

  “You could perform the ritual a thousand times, and it wouldn’t work. You’re mine, little witch.”

  Not wanting to ruin the evening by arguing, Kerrigan let herself live out the fantasy where everything would work out, and no amount of magic could possibly come between them.

  It was true: just because she participated in a Pairing Ritual, didn’t mean had to accept it or be forced into marriage. But in the back of her mind, an insidious little voice told her the Pairing Ritual wasn’t intended to match a witch to her soul mate.

  It was intended to pair her with her perfect magical match, to ensure any children born of the union would inherit both parents’ abilities and further populate the world with powerful witches.

  Now Kerrigan hoped she hadn’t made a mistake by not asking Maksim to give her his blood to cement their relationship and prevent the spell from taking hold.

  There was no doubt in her mind, if the ritual worked and her perfect magical match was found, her parents would find a way to force Kerrigan into marrying him.

  “Oh good, you’re still here.”

  Kerrigan looked to see a woman in a gaudy gold dress heading toward them on mile-high gold heels, jewelry on both wrists, her fingers, hung around her neck, and her ears.

  The witch was positively dripping with gold and diamonds. She had a perfect tan, her long chestnut hair so shiny and so perfectly styled, Kerrigan felt dull and lackluster in comparison.

  Which was no doubt the point.

  The aura of menace and power wafted around the witch, tangibly pressing against Kerrigan’s flesh with all the intensity of a brewing hurricane.

  The woman wasn’t hiding her powers in the least, and when her dark brown eyes critically slithered up and down Kerrigan’s body, Kerrigan almost looked down to check and see if she still had her clothes on.

  “Mrs. Price, thank you so much for this opportunity. Did you receive our gifts?” Kerrigan’s mother cooed, looking at the dark witch like a wide-eyed sycophant who’d just met their idol.

  Mother dressed for the occasion in a black cocktail dress she’d spent an insane amount of money on, wearing her finest jewelry, having spent the entire morning in a stylist’s chair to get her shoulder-length blonde hair coiffed to perfection.

  In contrast, Kerrigan’s father wore his best suit and tie, looking like a former fashion model with his handsome looks and black hair starting to gray at the temples.

  “I did,” Mrs. Price said with a cat-like smirk. “They are exquisite.”

  “I’m so pleased to hear that. This is my daughter, Kerrigan.” She actually reached out and pushed Kerrigan forward a few steps.

  Not sure what to say, Kerrigan stood there and let Mrs. Price walk a slow circle around her, feeling very much like a bug under a microscope.

  Mrs. Price gave a thoughtful hum on her way back around, tilting her head to the side to peer curiously at Kerrigan’s makeup-free face, her eyes narrowing in thought.

  “Well, you’re certainly pretty enough, Kerrigan.” Kerrigan would have answered with something snarky, but Mrs. Price rolled right over her.

  “We typically don’t recruit Summoner’s, but if you’re are as strong as your mother says, I’m certain there’s a place for you with the Silver Wives. With some… physical enchantments, of course.”

  Stunned, Kerrigan didn’t pull away when Mrs. Price hooked her thin arm around Kerrigan’s and pulled her deeper into the den of dark witches.

  Kerrigan threw a helpless look of astonishment over her shoulder at her parents, but both of them were beaming with pride and greedy eagerness, clearly delighted at the idea of their daughter joining the ranks of the blackest witches in the country.

  “The Silver Wives are one of the oldest covens on the east coast, dating back to the founding of this country,” Mrs. Price told her, tugging sharply to get Kerrigan’s attention. “You’ve no doubt heard of our exploits.”

  Oh, had she ever. Eight out of ten powerful men in the United States knowingly or unknowingly had one of the Silver Wives in his bed to whisper in his ear.

  Since the time of the Salem Trials, the Silver Wives had courted and corrupted senators, judges, presidents, lawyers, military generals, scientists, and businessmen.

  Most Fortune 500 companies were run or owned by the Silver Wives. Pharmaceutical companies, major infrastructure and industry, banks, were all controlled by the coven.

  Kerrigan had zero desire to join them or become one of the ‘physically enhanced’ witches walking around the opulent mansion.

  She wasn’t afraid to throw down a curse or two if the situation warranted it, but the constant manipulation of a human being? Taking away their free will and using them as a puppet to further her own selfish desires?

  There was no way Kerrigan was cut out to be a Silver Wife, especially if it meant marrying some gross, sweaty, sleazy human too stupid to realize the gorgeous woman on his arm was plying him with potions to keep him under her spell.

  Mrs. Price walked Kerrigan and her parents all over the mansion grounds, extolling the many perks that came with being a member of the coven, doing a fabulous job of glossing over the gory details of how one achieved those perks.

  “And, of course, our version of the Pairing Ritual has a one hundred percent success rate,” Mrs. Price was saying, grabbing one hundred percent of Kerrigan’s attention.

  “However, we’re not casting to
find your perfect magical match. We’re looking for the human who’ll not only be easy to control, but also, has the right breeding and connections to ensure a very successful and lucrative future for the coven.”

  “I’d like to hear more about that.” Kerrigan’s father chuckled. “We’re looking to franchise the family winery.”

  Mrs. Price spared him a droll glance, her smile clearly forced. “I’m sure that could be arranged, but the Silver Wives rarely dabble in small business ventures.”

  Kerrigan bit into her cheek to keep from laughing at the way Mrs. Price made it clear, without saying the actual words, that the Gray family business was too insignificant to warrant any of her attention.

  “So, what do you think, Kerrigan? I know you have a few years of schooling left at Haggara, but it might be more advantageous to send you someplace like Harvard or Yale. Especially after our Pairing Ritual, as it’s likely your match will be a human, around your age, and just ripe for the plucking.”

  Kerrigan said, “Well, I’m not sure—”

  And her mother cut in with a little cheer. “I think it sounds wonderful!”

  “Of course it does.” Mrs. Price turned down another hallway filled with stunning artwork, antique mirrors, golden sconces, and tables laden with fresh cut flowers.

  If one didn’t look too closely, it seemed like something out of a magazine. “Now, let’s talk about membership dues.”

  “Membership dues?” Kerrigan repeated, so confused she could barely tell up from down.

  She’d never heard of any coven that required membership dues like some kind of country club, and considering how tight-fisted her father was about paying for her schooling already, Kerrigan didn’t see him forking out more money for something that may not directly benefit him.

  Mrs. Price patted her hand with a saccharine smile. “The Silver Wives aren’t like any other coven. Once you belong to us, we make sure you receive the proper education to look good on human paperwork and to be a shining star that other women look up to with extreme envy.