The Coven History

by Lily Luchesi

  “We are not kept pets, being fed by the hands of mortals … or vampires, for that matter,” Caelum’s mother, Lavinia, often said. “It is a great dishonour to make proud shifters pay for sustenance as though we are in their debt.”

  Caelum disagreed. So did Draven. He and Caelum had often had long conversations about the ways that vampires and shifters were allowed to feed. Because Draven’s father worked for the PID, he had information and insight others might not.

  The blood and organ banks were set up by Angelica Cross, a vamplet from Chicago, in order to help creatures who needed them to be able to feed safely. Without the need to hunt, there was also no need to kill humans. And the less creatures killed humans, the safer they would be.

  But some vampires and shifters, even those outside the magical community, turned their noses up at Miss Cross’ solution. Many believed that it was a creature’s natural born right to hunt. Humans were prey just like cattle and pigs. Most of those creatures didn’t survive for long. The paranormal government came and hunted them down. There was only one punishment for a creature who killed mortals: death.

  That line of thinking made Caelum think of Draven, and what had happened the previous night. A blush rose to his cheeks, despite the fact that he never, ever blushed.

  And then he remembered that there was a chance that he had ruined his friendship with Draven. All because he couldn’t keep his lips to himself.

  Everything blows and I wish I was dead, he thought, not for the first time in his life. He stared out his bedroom window at the nearly full moon. I hate what I am, I hate what my family stands for. And I can’t ever run away. I will carry the burden of those they killed with me forever.

  Caelum felt so restless, he didn’t know what to do. As he stared out his window, he spotted two of the humans his parents’ employed as manservants walking from the direction of the highway. Between them was another person, clad in a long grey robe. Grey robes were traditional garb for apprentices.

  The apprentice had a bag over their head and their hands were bound in iron chains. Iron blocked magic, even taught magic.

  Bile rose in his throat and only one thought was prevalent in his mind: I’ve gotta get out of here.

  He knew his parents would be in the parlour, which meant he could leave through the back door and not be noticed until it came time to get him for “the hunt”. Every year the family took great pains to have security around their land, to be sure that no one came to disturb them.

  Caelum used to think they were worried about hunters, until he finally got part of the story as he had eavesdropped on his parents when he was eleven.

  “It’s getting dangerous, Vin,” his father said to his mother. “Every year, The Zoo increases their search area, and it won’t be long until Lynx Manor is discovered. And you know they will take whomever is easiest.”

  “Caelum,” Lavinia said quietly. “Because kits are so much easier to capture. But I am sure they would take us, as well, if they brought enough reinforcements.”

  Caelum had no idea what The Zoo was, but he knew enough to understand that his family was being hunted.

  Still, the extra security made him feel as though he was safe enough to go out for a run in the moonlight. Perhaps he could stay lost and miss the ritual altogether. It would cause a row, he was sure, but a row and punishment was better than killing an innocent person. Even if his mother hexed him again, it was still worth it to know he had saved a life.

  Once he was outside, he took a deep breath of cold winter air before he closed his eyes, willing his lynx to the surface. Shifting on the full moon was an unbearable ordeal, creating so much pain. However, shifting on his own any other night was as easy as slipping into a pair of comfortable pyjamas.

  It took less than a minute to change into his lynx form, and when he next opened his eyes, he could see clearer in the dark, and hear better as well. Keeping his consciousness as he shifted was a thrilling experience, and while he hated his family, he loved his bloodline. He loved being a shifter.

  Letting out a pleased little yowl, he began to run through the forest at a leisurely pace, feeling the cold, wet earth beneath the pads on his paws. It was freeing, being the lynx. It was the most peaceful experience he had ever had.

  As he turned toward the main road, he could faintly hear what sounded like wings, but he saw no birds. Only a lone bat, landing in a tree up ahead. He continued on his way, until his ears picked up the sound of boots on branches, snapping in the nearly silent night.

  He slipped behind a large tree trunk and turned back into his human form. He hid back there, magic gathering in his palm to get the jump on any possible attacker. Footsteps closed in around the tree, and Caelum leapt out, ready to attack.

  “Whoa, mate, it’s me!”

  Draven stood there, hands out on the defensive, eyes wide beneath his shaggy bangs.

  Caelum’s magic dissipated, and he wasn’t sure what to feel now. Why was Draven there? On that night of all nights?

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Caelum hissed. “Tonight’s the ritual, and if my family sees you here, they will kill you. No questions asked.”

  Draven gave a rueful smile. “They’d find I’m not so easily defeated. Anyway, I came to see you. To talk about last night.”

  “I want to talk about it, too,” Caelum replied. “But right now it’s not such a good idea, mate. Seriously, you’ve got to get outta here.”

  “Why? What does your family do during this ritual?” Draven asked. “You’ve been dreading it since we were kids.”

  “If I told you, you’d hate me,” Caelum admitted. “And I’m not sure I could handle that.”

  Draven reached out and put his cold hands on Caelum’s shoulders. “I could never hate you, Cae. Never. And if you’re so dead set against this ritual, then I will help get you out, so you don’t have to do it. My dad will help.”

  Caelum wanted to cry, fall into his arms, and kiss him, all at once. “They’ll find your family and kill them. You know what us Munros are like.”

  “Not all of you,” Draven said, one hand leaving his shoulder to run along his cheek. “I ran yesterday because I was scared. But I’m not scared anymore. I know what I want, and that’s you.”

  “You should be scared,” Caelum whispered. “Because my kind…”

  “Are no worse than my kind,” Draven insisted, pressing his lips to Caelum’s. “Now, what do you say we get you out of here?”

  Caelum was about to respond when there was the sound of gunfire. In England, in this part of the country, it was common to hear hunters shooting game. However, those were from shotguns. This sounded as though it came from a human film: it was rapidly firing, as though the weapon was automatic. Which was illegal in England.

  Draven’s eyes widened and he said, “I’m guessing that your family’s ritual doesn’t include firearms.”

  “Good bloody guess.” Caelum felt almost frigid with fear. “What do we do?”

  “We go see,” Draven said. “Stay behind me. A silver bullet might hurt me, but it will kill you.”

  That was the bad thing about being a magical shifter: you had a much easier way to die. With magicians, unless it came from a deadly spell or poison, the only way you could be killed not from old age was by being shot five times with iron bullets. As a shifter, a single silver bullet could kill Caelum.

  They made their way back to Lynx Manor, and Caelum tried to hear anything, but all there was were the typical sounds of the forest. Draven, however, looked a little green.

  “Cae, I don’t think you should go in there,” he said, his voice wavering. “I think it’s bad.”

  How would he know that? Caelum wondered. “I have to. There’s an apprentice in there who might need medical attention.”

  “Why is there an apprentice in your house?” Draven asked, but Caelum avoided the question as he surged forward, going toward the front doors.

  The large, oaken double doors were wide open, one of them hanging on a sing
le hinge that looked ready to give way at any moment.

  “I can’t hear anyone inside,” Caelum whispered.

  Draven shook his head, looking more sickly than ever.

  “Come on.” Caelum walked in carefully, wondering if he should remain silent in case whoever had the gun was still there, or call out and see if anyone was all right. See if anyone was alive.

  They both decided to remain silent as they walked through the foyer and into the room where he had last seen his parents. It was normally a parlour for entertaining guests or holding funeral viewings. Lots of antique furniture, wall hangings, and ornate carpets. Now it was a scene from a horror movie.

  Blood was splattered everywhere, covering the wall hangings and staining the wooden tables. Lynxes don’t have a particularly good sense of smell, but there was so much of it that even Caelum could smell the blood.

  Draven always seemed to have a keen nose, and right then he looked ready to pass out. Or perhaps it was because of the scene before them.

  The elder Lynxes were on the floor, both of them had been shot multiple times. The back of Lavinia’s head was blown apart, greyish brains stuck in her coiffed black hair.

  On the floor were what looked like silver collars attached to iron chains. The collars were unlocked, as if the killers had tried to capture them before they killed them.

  Caelum wasn’t sure what he was feeling aside from numb and horrified. He had never gotten along with his parents. Their idea of parenting was hexing him when he did something they considered “bad” and being condescending whenever he did something right. He’d been whipped, he’d been verbally abused, he’d been left in tears as a Stinging Hex made his body feel like hundreds of tiny scorpions were attached to his flesh.

  So was he sad they were dead? No. He couldn’t say that he was. Was he terrified of how they died? Yes.

  “Cae, I’m so sorry,” Draven whispered, taking Caelum’s hand in his. “We have to call the PID.”

  “Wait — I told you there was an apprentice here. We have to find her first.”

  “Okay. Where would she be?” Draven asked.

  Caelum felt sick as he said, “The dungeon, most likely.”

  Draven sighed. “Look, I have to ask: why do you have an apprentice witch in your dungeon?”

  Caelum couldn’t meet his friend’s eyes. He was too ashamed. “The Dark ritual I told you about? My family hunts apprentices like it’s a bloody sport. That’s what I was trying to run away from. They do it at every Solstice, and they were going to force me to take part this time.”

  Draven turned his head so he had to look at him. “What you just told me is disgusting, but you have nothing to be ashamed of. You didn’t take part. And you are still just a teenager. Not like you could have stopped it. Now come on, let’s go rescue her.”

  “If the killers left her alive,” Caelum muttered, taking Draven’s hand in his once again. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For not judging me based on my family. I swear, I’m nothing like them.” Caelum’s eyes pleaded with Draven to believe he was telling the truth.

  “I know,” Draven whispered, leaning in to kiss him. “Come on.”

  Caelum walked briskly down the stone stairs that led to the dungeon, now more confident. He knew the killers weren’t still there, because the equipment had been left. Now he could finally try to begin and right the wrongs of his family.

  The stairs were lit by wall sconces that Caelum set ablaze magically as they passed, so he and Draven could see. At the bottom of the stairs was a locked wooden door. The key hung on a rung on the wall to the right. Caelum plucked it from its hook and began to unlock the door.

  The moment it was open wide enough to slip through, he was assaulted by wind magic and sent flying into the far wall.

  “Did you honestly think handcuffs could hold me?” a woman, presumably the apprentice, asked haughtily.

  Caelum looked up to see the woman standing to her full height, which was fairly tall. She was maybe forty, with long black hair and ratty robes. However, despite not having full access to magic, Caelum had no doubt in his mind that this woman could and would kill him in the blink of an eye.

  “Whoa, hey, stop! We’re not here to hurt you,” Draven cried, holding his hands out. “We’re here to get you out of here.”

  The woman gave Draven a once over. “You’re Bram Silver’s son, aren’t you?”

  He nodded. “How do you know?”

  “Bram is my partner at the PID.”

  Draven’s mouth dropped. “You’re Evelyn Sinclair. Salem’s mother.”

  Caelum looked between the two, trying to take in everything he was hearing. And ignore the bile that rose in his throat. Were Salem to find out that the Lynxes had kidnapped his mother, he was sure that he’d find himself poisoned to death before the school year was over.

  Gingerly, he began to stand. “Mrs. Sinclair, I am so sorry. Truly. My family … they were evil. But I can promise you that I’m not like them.”

  “Were? Was that what I heard above? Their deaths?” she asked.

  Caelum nodded. “No one’s going to hurt you now. Someone … someone killed them while I was out.”

  Evelyn glanced between the boys and said, “As a PID agent, I can take this to our office and have someone come investigate. But I advise you both to be out of the house before that happens. Do you have somewhere safe to go, Lynx?”

  Caelum nodded. He could go back to the Coven.

  “But … you aren’t going to get me in trouble?” he asked.

  “Why? You do not deserve to pay for your parents’ sins. I have recently been investigating the yearly disappearances of apprentices in the area. Originally, we thought it was a group of witch hunters from America. But little by little, I was led here. To your family. Which is how they managed to capture me. Silly mistake on my part.

  “So now my case has been solved, though their murder is now something I suppose I will be taking over.” She scoffed. “Solving the murder of my kidnappers. Sounds quite like something a normal human would come up with.”

  She spoke so much like Salem, it was a little unnerving to Caelum. Glancing at the two of them she said, “I advise you both to leave. Return to the Coven. Keep your noses clean. And Draven? Your father worries about you constantly since you fainted last year. Give the man a call one night, will you?”

  Draven gave a small smile. “Sure. And again, we’re really sorry about all of this.”

  Caelum walked over and nodded. “Um … can you not mention this to Salem? We already don’t like each other. I’d rather not add more fuel to the flames.”

  Evelyn glared at him. “Why would I bother my son with my job? Goodbye, Lynx. And I hope that, after tonight, I never see anyone from your bloodline again.”

  Draven tugged on Caelum’s sleeve. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

  Caelum listened and allowed his friend to drag him away, up the stairs and out of the house. Once they were in the clear, cold night, Caelum stopped walking and leaned against a nearby tree.

  It was so dark, the moon barely penetrated the forest, but he could see just fine thanks to his lynx. Draven was watching him with sad eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I know tonight has been … unreal,” he said.

  “I don’t know if I will ever get that sight out of my mind,” Caelum whispered as hot tears came to his eyes. He felt his body begin to tremble, a sign he was going into shock.

  Draven’s arms came around him and he held onto him tightly, burying his face in Draven’s neck.

  Draven pulled him back and kissed him. Caelum kissed back almost desperately, needing the warmth and comfort. Needing the love.

  “You’re okay, Caelum. I’m going to make sure you’re okay. I promise.”

  Chapter 11

  “Can you believe my house is silent as a grave?” Daphne said the last day of winter break. “Mum’s in London till tomorrow, and the boys will come back with her.”

&nb
sp; Salem glanced over at her. They were sitting at Cristal’s Cafe, nursing their drinks. Black coffee for Salem, a frothy latte for Daphne. The day before, the duo had celebrated Salem’s seventeenth birthday. He was the first of their class to reach legal age in the magical world. Which meant he could leave the Coven if he wanted. Not that he did. He had a year and a half of basic schooling to finish, and he wanted to apprentice at the store some more. Piper was a horrible potioneer, but she let him do as he pleased most of the time, which allowed his skills to become stronger.

  “You must like the quiet,” he commented.

  She gave him a look under her lashes. “You could always come over there with me. Keep me company tonight.”

  Salem nearly choked on his coffee. “Are you serious?”

  She shrugged, smiling. “If you want to.”

  Taking a deep breath, Salem nodded. “Yeah. I, um, I want to.” Despite the fact that he was extraordinarily nervous now. He had no idea what might happen, or even what he wanted to happen. Which was unusual for him. He was never off guard. Except where Daphne was concerned.

  When it came to her, every single defence he had ever put up was dismantled systematically. To most everyone, he was cold and quiet and possibly evil. With Daphne he was just the opposite. With her, he was free to be himself and know he’d never be ridiculed for it.

  He was happy when he was with her. His magic felt as though it was dancing in his veins with every touch and every smile exchanged. He knew that he would love her for the rest of his life.

  Salem went with Daphne to her house, which was really a manor with seven bedrooms, two libraries, and a meditation room. They hung their winter robes on the coat rack in the foyer and went into the sitting room, which was as big as the Sinclairs’ entire house in Lambeth.

  Daphne took his hand and led him to the off-white chaise lounge. His heart was racing as she pressed her lips to his and he wrapped his arms around her back, holding her to him.