The Raven Trilogy- Complete Series

by Elle Lincoln

  “It’s been hell, Bette.” She flops onto a pile of leaves I suspect are her bed.

  “Why are you out here instead of inside?” I point toward the house.

  “My stepfather is dead, Bette. My stepsister still lays in coma, we don’t know if she will make it, and we are being hunted.” she scoffs at me. “These assholes out here try to hunt us down because witches are an abomination!”

  “The immortals are hunting you down?” That’s odd.

  “They don’t know I’m Fae, that my mother is half Fae and half witch.” She pokes the fire. “I rebound my gifts tighter to stay and help the coven, the rest just think I’m a dud.”

  I’m not sure how to respond to any of that, but she didn’t answer me. “Why hunt witches?”

  “Earth magic,” Patrick answers for her, causing Kelsie to roll her hand toward him. “Not all from the Realm view witches as magical or much better than humans.”

  “Bingo,” my depressed friend deadpans.

  “You know your father is looking for you.” I watch her closely as her neck twitches and her lips twist into disgust. The look is so far from the woman I remember that for a moment, I worry I have the wrong person.

  “My father,” she sneers. “He can try and find me. But he won’t. Not until I’m ready.”

  “Kelsie, he has declared war on me, the guys, and every faction we represent.” Who is this woman before me? Because it can’t possibility be the woman I grew up with. Who always had that bubbly, happy demeanor.

  “He doesn’t want war.” She stares into the fire, her head cocked to the side. It flares, giving me a better look at the woman before me. Her complexion is pale, almost translucent. Heavy bruises darken her eyes. She’s wearing clothing so old and frayed I can’t tell what it is. Sweats and maybe a tank top, but now they’re covered in mud and leaves.

  “Kelsie, what happened to you?” I clench my hands, worried about the woman before me, unsure of who she has become, scared of it. I could end my curiosity and dive into her soul, and yet I don’t know what that would solve, if anything. This is deeper, something has changed the woman before me.

  “I’m surviving.” She glances up at me, no emotion crossing her face. She wears a mask, one I’ve never seen. “If you stay, they will find you. They tolerate my presence because I am her daughter.”

  “Your mother?” She hums in answer, saying nothing more. “Kelsie, we need you to get your dad to back off.”

  “I’ve already told, you he doesn’t want war.” Again, she stares into the fire.

  I glance at Patrick, his own bushy brows pulled low, and a question in his eyes. I’m not the only one aware of the oddity occurring right now. “What does he want?”

  “My head detached from my body with an iron blade.” Her voice is serious and monotone and terrifying.

  “I won’t allow that to happen.”

  “I know.” Her voice is nothing more than a whisper, and it sends a chill up my spine, a premonition of something very bad flickers before my eyelids.

  “Kelsie, what have you done?”

  She doesn’t answer, she doesn’t even move as a blast knocks me through the air. I dissolve into the mist to face my attacker. A line of women enter the forest just as the first rays of the sun breech the horizon.

  “Where did she go?” one whispers as I near.

  I’m more curious about where Patrick and Kelsie went. But for now, I focus of the line of seven women, all ranging in age from young teens to middle-aged. I know witches age differently, so they could really be any age.

  I release the darkness inside me, calling on the Sluagh at the same time. The forest darkens with the mist of their shadowy forms that lumber behind me. The women glance at one another before raising their chins.

  “You don’t frighten us, Bette,” one in the center calls out.

  One very familiar to me, with her blonde ringlets so like Kelsie it sends a stab through my heart.

  I reach out, grasping each of their souls, analyzing them, their sins, and judging them before allowing gravity to weigh me down. But this time, I keep a shroud of mist wrapped around me and I give my darkness a physical form, letting these witches know I hold a piece of them in my ethereal hands.

  “Hello.” For the life of me, I can’t even remember her mother’s name. Well, it doesn’t matter, because she is unhappy to see me. No way would she have helped free the Sluagh.

  “Why have you entered my woods?” I watch as a thread of earthly green magic leaves her in a wave. Examining mine, testing my strength and willpower.

  “Just out for a walk.” I smile. “It’s a lovely night, don’t you think?” I wonder if she is aware of the war brewing, or if she would prefer to sit here in her own little bubble.

  “Bullshit, Bette. What do you want with Kelsie?”

  I sigh, no point in keeping up this dramatic charade. “I just wanted to talk.”

  “Where is she?” For one moment, her mask slips and the mom I always knew pops out. That pang spears me. Now, I remember why I don’t recall her name. I always called her Mom. A flood of emotions threatens to override me. Why couldn’t I remember that?

  “Here.” She walks out from behind a tree, her eyes squinting at Patrick. “Put your magic away.” With a swipe of her hands, she cuts through all our magic. I drop mine with shock just as the other do as well. The look on her coven members’ faces is equal parts disgusted and shocked.

  I knew she was powerful, I just didn’t know how much. This rare show is telling. Yet I didn’t feel one, single ping of magic being released from her. Realization dawns on me. She looks so sick because she is suppressing her magic, and hiding in these woods, covered in filth, to disguise her scent.

  “Bette, it’s time for you to leave.” Kelsie turns toward me, and with a wave of her hands, I’m moved backward through the woods as though she placed me in a bubble. I watch was she fades from view, my heart aching.

  I stumble with Patrick back on the road, the forest once again silent and devoid of magic.

  “What the hell was that?” I stand with my hands on my hips.

  “I do not know. But I have a very bad feeling.” Patrick’s voice is nothing but serious. His brogue thick and deep with his concern.

  A concern that mirrors my own. Kelsie is up to something, and her coven is up to something. Each soul was shrouded in a layer of grime. But I can only worry about her, my best friend who is allowing herself to die from the inside out. Why?

  Chapter 12

  Bette

  Pillaging Villagers

  “Hungry?” Patrick looks down at me as my eyes continue to peer off into the woods.

  “I guess so.” Truth is, I haven’t consumed a soul in a while. Or fed the Sluagh, though I get the feeling Casseus has been out hunting. “You want food?”

  “Aye, I’d like some food.” He begins to walk once more toward town. “I’m sure we will find something violent for you to chew on, though those witches looked suspicious to me.”

  “That’s because they were.” Nothing about that situation felt right, nothing at all. “Do you think she blames me?”

  “Fer what?” he growls.

  “Her stepdad dying. Her stepsister being in a coma. For telling her father she existed?” Hell, everything, just being her friend.

  “None of that is yer fault, she knows it. Which is why I suspect she did something.” He sighs. “We need to talk to the others about her. But until then, I don’t think we can even get anyone to watch her.”

  “What do you mean?” I stop walking, because this will take forever and I’m itching to be all misty.

  “That girl there,” Patrick points behind him toward where we left Kelsie and the witches, “is scary powerful. I grabbed the twit when they attacked, thinking to save her, and she froze me!”

  “You didn’t think to save me?” I’m only partially putout.

  He gives me this look that screams I damn well know better. I do, but that isn’t the point. A girl likes a k
night in shining armor every now and again. “You don’t need me saving ye, I need you saving me!”

  He is right about that and I perk up a bit.

  “Come on.” I mist us, liking this new ability, and sweep through the trees toward town, avoiding the road until we land in downtown Asheville. “Well, this is a shit show.”

  Everywhere we look there is nothing but broken glass, trash, and cars stopped in the middle of the street. It looks like a ghost town because it is one. It’s also the first taste of the destruction I’ve gotten in the entire month since the realms merged, and two worlds became one.

  “Clothing. I can’t wear this.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” Patrick asks, speaking directly to my nipples. I really wish I was the type of woman who minded. I’m not.

  “First of all, no. Second of all, just no.” He looks moderately putout when he finally looks me in the eyes. “You picked this out, didn’t you?”

  He growls, grabbing my hand to walk down the street. “Picky women.”

  I cough. “One, there is one woman to this harem. That is me and me alone.”

  Finally, that laugh that is all Patrick breaks free, warming my heart. “Yer right about that.”

  “In here.” I dart into an old consignment shop that is surprisingly not ravaged. Probably because most people would rather steal something name brand now that no one is manning the stores. I can’t say I blame them, but I’m realistically just looking for something black. “What says fear me?” I say more to myself than Patrick, who already walked away to sit on a chair.

  “Yer face.”

  “Thank you!” My face should be fearful. “Do you think Kelsie had something to do with her grandfather’s death?” I finally speak the thoughts eating at me.

  “Who knows. It’s a little dark for her. Did ya get a good look at her soul?”

  I frown, I did not. I only shake my head no, not quite willing to give up that bit of information, but I’m sure Patrick just picked it out of my head. He isn’t wrong though, it was very dark for her. “What about the fire?”

  “Why would she burn your house down? Didn’t Ryoden and Ceth want to flush her out by attacking you?” Patrick reasons.

  “Yes.” Something isn’t sitting well. I grab a few pairs of black everything before I begin to peel off my shoes and pants. “All the Fae there that night with Ryoden didn’t have that guilt or sin on their hands. But someone does.”

  “It might not be her.” I know Patrick is deep in thought when he doesn’t even watch me roll the leather leggings up my body. Nor when I tear the awful pink shirt from my body. I eye up a few bras, wondering if it is even worth it. I grab a bralette, because if there will be running in the next few days, and I’m sure there will be, I don’t want to feel like my boobs will pop off. Running has that effect on women. It’s horrible. I yank on an old, greying band t-shirt and find some black simple boots that won’t kill my feet while walking.

  “The kid needs clothing.” I mentally calculate what she will need before grabbing as much as I can.

  “What’s that?” Patrick gets up, walks over to the door, and peers outside.

  I stuff the clothes in a few plastic bags before joining Patrick at the door. “You have got to be kidding me! Is this how the next couple days is going to go?” And more importantly, how the hell do they keep finding me?

  A crowd with literal pitchforks and torches walks down the street toward the consignment shop. As they near, it’s clear they are shouting my name repeatedly.

  “Really, what did I do to them?”

  Patrick pulls me back as I attempt to peek outside. “That is a great question. What did you do?” He eyes me like Mac would.

  “I didn’t do anything but exist and make friends with a crazy Fae.” Kelsie is not far from my mind and is the center of a puzzle I will solve.

  “They’re out for yer blood, woman!” He yanks me to the back, even though the crowd stops in front of the shop, their torches raised. Patrick sniffs the air. “Fae and human.”

  “They’re working together now?” Oh joy. It’s more likely the Fae bribed them with something fun. Like food.

  A man taps on the store front. “Come out, little pig.”

  I snort, that’s a terrible analogy. I am no pig. I am a pretty princess. I smile with a fun plan. “I did say I was hungry.”

  Patrick’s shoulders relax as he sits back in his chair, propping his feet up on a desk. His pants ride up his legs and his suspenders a are little worse for wear, including that shirt of his. “Have at it.”

  “First of all, you need to find yourself some clothes that aren’t falling apart, and second of all, aren’t you still worried?” How he can go from one mood to the next is beyond me—kind of, I’m a woman and I do remember having my cycle. Which reminds me, that hasn’t happened in a while. But I don’t think I can even get pregnant. I put that thought on hold as the angry villagers tap on the glass.

  I sigh, throwing the bag of clothing at Patrick. May as well see why they are so angry. I step in front of the store, deciding to fuck with them a little. I go all misty but still visible and walk through the glass. I’m met with mixed reactions—some angry, some scared, some just plain annoyed. Looks like I’m just wasting that guy in the red’s time. You and me both, buddy. I focus on him.

  “You there.” I point to the guy in red who rolls his eyes. I’m moderately proud I have not just infiltrated his soul to see what sins I can feast on. Eh, the day is still early, he may piss me off yet. “Why are you bunch holding pitchforks and torches like this is the dark ages?”

  “Lady, this is the dark ages,” red shirt replies, pointing at me.

  “Right, so what are you doing?” I cut off anyone trying to reply, realizing there is a more important question. “Why do you just follow the Fae courts like they own you?”

  “They do own us.” Red shirt whips off his shirt to turn around, pointing to a mark on his back.

  There is no way that’s what I think it is. I push through the crowd to get a better look. Sure enough, it’s a goddamn cattle brand in the shape of a snowflake. I brush a finger across the wound, and the man jerks away, whipping his shirt back on him before sneering at me. I have no words yet, so I just stare at him with pity on my face.

  “We don’t have the luxury of saying no,” another man states as he, too, whips off his shirt, turning around to show me a brand in the shape of a leaf.

  “Summer and winter.” I swallow the bile in my throat, not even I would brand another being. I wince, realizing that is exactly what I did. Each of my men hold a little feather on their neck. I realize that perhaps I am no better than those I war with. “Free will?” Surely, I give my men free will.

  “Oh, woman, you drive me mad, waking me from my nap with your worry.” Patrick spins me around, brushing a soft kiss across my lips. “If we didn’t want your brand, we would remove it.”

  My brows pull low and I turn to red shirt again, maybe I should ask him his name. “Can you remove it?”

  It’s Patrick who answers for me, pulling my face forward. “Love, they don’t hold the power. The wolves needed collars to keep them in check and even so, their very nature fought those who placed them. These people are commoners.” He winces looking over the crowd. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” another replies.

  “You don’t have the power to fight back. That’s why every time you come at us, it’s with farm equipment?” I rub my temple that has begun to ache once more. “Okay, moving past this. How many of you actually want to be here, pillaging the evil?”

  A few raise their hands. Wasting no time, I send my darkness out into them and feed on their sins, ignoring the images that infiltrate my head. I just don’t have the time to deal with it. The few fall to the ground, dead.

  “Can someone check and see if their brands are gone?” I bite my lip, though my energy stores are full, worry gnaws at me as I try to figure out how I can remove the brands from these folks.

/>   “They are still there,” a voice calls back to me.

  “Dammit.” I push away from Patrick and begin to pace. “There has to be a way to remove the brand.”

  “Only another Fae can remove it,” Patrick answers, his voice solemn.

  Images of Kelsie flash through my head just as a piercing sensation slices my side. Patrick whips me away just in time as a pitchfork flies at my head.

  “Wait!” I struggle out of Patrick’s arms. “There has to be a way to solve this.”

  “Time’s up, little one.”

  “Dammit, Patrick.”

  “I’m trying to get you away from them so we don’t have to hurt them.” He throws me over his shoulders and begins to briskly walk away from the fight just as the screams begin.

  Those who truly didn’t want to fight twist on the ground in agony, no blood or injury in sight. Others hold pity on their faces, looking down at those in pain. The grip on their weapons tighten, their knuckles whitening.

  There is nothing I can do. In a way, I am a part of the Fae, but I am not Fae. I cannot help these people. Kelsie can, but her mind is damaged by a wound I cannot see or heal.

  A pitchfork flies past my head, striking an idea.

  I wiggle down Patrick who gives me a dirty look.

  “I have an idea.”

  He rolls his eyes, but lets me down.

  I turn to the crowd, letting my darkness out to seep into each Fae. I may not be able to remove their brand, but maybe I can give them a break, give them a chance to let their minds rest and their souls recover from deeds done not of their consent.

  I drift in, coating their souls, one by one, as Patrick deflects their weapons. He pulls his ax from the ether, a pocket between worlds, and charges.

  Gradually, I peel away their sins like an immortal surgeon, and the Sluagh drift to my side, watching. I start with the simplest of souls. Once the sins are clear, the woman drops into a sleep. An action I had hoped would occur.

  I move to the next and the next, watching as each individual falls. Patrick was right, some of these people are human. While the Fae here hold only watered-down magic, they are the ones who keep spirits alive, who love as fiercely as humans, and fall just as hard to manipulation. A part of me relates to them, and a part of me rebels.