Witch's Curse (The Bone Coven Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  Because my parents weren’t the only ones who got attacked in the war. So did Grams, and whatever spell had blasted into her soul had weakened both her body and her mind. She was a shell of her former self, and she wasn’t capable of living alone, much less do anything more than knit scarves and watch old reruns on TV. Half the time, her mind drifted away. To some other time and place that didn’t exist in the here and now. I hoped wherever it was, she felt happiness instead of fear.

  “It was okay,” I said, biting my tongue against the lie. It would kill her to know where I’d been tonight and what I’d been asked to do. Her only daughter got killed working for the coven. She couldn’t bear to lose me to them, too. “Got some groceries earlier. The usual. Ramen and potatoes.” I tried to sound lighthearted, like it was a running joke between us, but my voice came out flat.

  “I am so sorry, Zoe. I hate that you’re stuck taking care of the both of us. You should be out there living your life and training your powers instead of working in a grungy dive bar to get us by.”

  Her eyes caught mine, and I could see the guilt hiding behind her smile. It wasn’t her fault though. She hadn’t done this to herself. And then those brilliant blue eyes dimmed for a moment and lost focus on the real world— the world I was a part of, the world I wanted her to stay in. Permanently. Not in five-minute bursts scattered throughout the day. But I knew I had maybe a minute— tops—before her mind drifted away again.

  “It’s not your fault, Grams,” I said in a whisper.

  “How was your day?” she asked again, reaching over to grip my hand. The knitting needles tumbled off her lap. Her face screwed up, wrinkles and shadows etching her skin. She used to be an older mirror image of me: wavy dark hair that frizzed in the humidity, tiny nose, big steel blue eyes, pale pink skin that burned in the sun instead of tanned. She might be pushing seventy-five, but before the attack she hadn’t looked a day over fifty. Now, with the sagging skin under her chin and the lines curving around her mouth and eyes, she just looked withered.

  I reached down to grab the knitting needles from the floor and when I returned them to her lap, she was back to gazing out the window. Face blank. No sign of my Grams in those distant eyes. A tear slid down my cheek, and I brushed it aside.

  “My day was fine, Grams,” I said to her, because I knew she could hear me even if she wasn’t completely here. “Just fine.”

  Heaving out a tired sigh, I pushed up from the chair and moved to the window to look out at the streets, a part of me wanting to see whatever it was that kept her attention so focused on the outside world. Though I didn’t know why I bothered. Wherever her mind was, it wasn’t with me.

  The downtown city lights twinkled in the distance. Even at this late hour, Boston was lit up, casting a bright yellow haze into the dark sky. Overhead, the stars were hidden, but the crescent moon glowed like a luminescent fingernail. Usually these streets felt like home to me, much more so than this tiny rundown closet of an apartment. I’d grown up in this neighborhood with my best friend, Laura, spinning our bike tires down alleys, exploring every nook and cranny we could find, and staring at the university buildings in awe. Neither one of us ended up going to college though.

  A streetlamp flickered in the corner of my eye and went out with a loud pop. I turned to see a hooded figure passing by my building on the sidewalk where the light had blown. Only, I realized, he wasn’t actually passing. He was pacing, occasionally glancing up at the very window where I stood.

  My blood ran ice cold, and I took a step back instinctively. With my heart beating madly against my ribs, I reached for my dagger, cursing under my breath when my hands found nothing but the empty sheath. Fucking Enforcers. They’d left me weaponless.

  But maybe that was who was down below. That Dorian guy had been following me for weeks—maybe even months. The coven might have sent him to follow me home. Maybe to keep an eye on me. Maybe to make sure I didn’t start summoning demons onto unsuspecting people.

  I hated that the Enforcers thought I was a killer, even if they had decided to give me a chance to prove that I wasn’t. I saw the blame in their eyes. To them, I looked guilty as hell. The only thing I could do was prove I’d done nothing wrong.

  With a deep breath, I ignored my trembling hands and stepped back up to the window. The stranger still stood there, hands in pockets and face turned up to the sky. In the darkness, it was impossible to make out any features, but I didn’t need to see the man’s face to realize it wasn’t Dorian. This man was slightly shorter and a hell of a lot skinnier. Dorian’s muscles were….distinct, to say the least. Most people don’t have that kind of build, and I could have spotted his physique a mile away. Not to mention the way he moved. He had a grace and elegance that was impossible to fully define, almost like he was one with the air. One with the shadows.

  The man in the midnight streets didn’t carry himself the same way.

  But if he wasn’t Dorian, then who the hell was he?

  Probably just another Enforcer, I told myself. Someone keeping an eye on things while Dorian got some sleep. The investigation would start in full force tomorrow. But I still felt a shiver go down my spine as I finally backed away from the window for good. Something didn’t feel right, and my entire body felt on edge.

  It took a long-ass time for me to relax enough to sleep, knowing someone was out there, watching me.

  When I woke up the next morning, there was a blissful two minutes of peace before I remembered exactly what had happened the night before. A demon attack, a questioning, and a mysterious creep stalking the sidewalk below my building.

  And a dead man. Someone I could have saved.

  Not to mention the part where the coven task force had knocked me out and forced me to team up with a mysterious warlock who may or may not be trying to stalk me.

  He’d definitely been keeping an eye on me these past few weeks. Along with whoever had been outside the window last night.

  With a sigh, I threw off my scratchy blanket and launched up from the couch. My socked feet shuffled down the short hallway to the bedroom. On the peeling wallpaper hung framed photos of Grams from Before. Through the dusty glass, she smiled from the bottom of the Spanish Steps and from the top of the Empire State Building. Back when she’d been strong and brilliant and powerful. Back when life had been normal.

  I knocked and opened her door. It creaked from where the hinges long ago needed oil. “Time to get up, Grams.”

  I helped her out of bed and into her beige slacks and sweater, and I held her hand as she hobbled past the photos holding ghosts of her past. A photo of the two of us in Disney World when my dad had been in jail and my mom had been off hunting demons for the coven as an Enforcer—one of the first and only females to do so. Me giving the camera a dimpled smile, my pale skin almost fluorescent under the Floridian sun. Grams laughing at the Mickey Mouse hovering nearby.

  After breakfast, I wiped down the kitchen counters and washed the dishes in the sink while Grams sat in the living room staring out the window, her knitting needles clicking away. I hated to leave her here alone all day again, but there was a murderer to find and money to earn.

  A fact that was only emphasised when I found a letter shoved underneath the door on my way out. I picked it up and tore open the envelope, eyebrows furrowed. It was a notice from the landlord, saying that if we didn’t pay within thirty days we’d be evicted. My hand tightened into a fist around the letter. Shit.

  The coven had taken the money I’d conned from Jeffrey Baker, and I was several hundred short on the rent. I could earn some tips at the bar tonight, but that wouldn’t be enough. I needed another job, another con, but I couldn’t take on one now. Not when the coven was keeping such a close eye on me.

  I took a deep breath and opened the door, steeling my resolve. I was Zoe Bennett, the daughter of a hardcore Enforcer and a legendary con artist. If anyone could get through this shit, I could. Or at least I hoped I could. I didn’t know what we’d do if I failed.
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br />   Chapter 4

  When my feet hit the pavement outside of my building, I found Dorian leaning against the brick wall and checking his watch. It felt strange seeing him in broad daylight like this, especially since he was wearing a massive hat and sunglasses that were as black as the darkest night. It was a cloudy day, and a bit chilly, though not overly so. Still, he wore a long dark trench coat that made him stand out like a vegetarian at a sausage festival.

  “What the hell are you wearing?” I raised my eyebrows and glanced down at my own ensemble. Jeans, a faded gray t-shirt, and lace-up black boots. Pretty normal compared to Dorian’s ridiculous—though intimidating—outfit. “If I’d known we were going to dress up like superheroes, I would have thrown on my leather pants.”

  Dorian frowned, clearly not sensing the humor of the situation. “We don’t have time to change. Come on.”

  Rolling my eyes, I followed Dorian to a car parked at the curb. It was dark and sleek, with windows tinted only a shade lighter than his sunglasses. We hopped inside the leather-scented car, and he revved the engine without another word. This guy was odd, to say the least. He’d tried to help me—maybe—but he had the personality of a brick wall.

  As much as Dorian seemed like he might be on my side, I still didn’t trust him. He might have gotten me out of coven jail, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d been following me for far longer than I’d been on the coven’s radar. For whatever reason he’d been watching me, it had nothing to do with last night’s demon attack. I needed to remember to keep my guard up around him, at least until I could figure out why he’d had his sights set on me.

  “So,” I said, trying to break the tense silence. “How long have you been working as an Enforcer?”

  “Five years. Ever since the demon war ended.”

  “Wow, you must have been young. For an Enforcer, that is. Most don’t start training until they’re twenty-one.”

  “That’s about right.” He gripped his hands tighter around the wheel, taxi horns honking as we sped along. “They needed the manpower.”

  Without another word, he twisted the knob on the radio to blare Metallica over the speakers, a clear signal that he was done talking. As he turned the steering wheel, the muscles in his arms rippled. Face hard and focused on the road, he was all business, but I could see a finger tapping in time to the heavy beat of the drums.

  With a sigh, I leaned forward and turned down the knob. He could try to dismiss me all he wanted, but I wanted answers, and he seemed like the only person in the world capable of giving me any. “Do you know if any Enforcers were assigned to watch my apartment last night?”

  Dorian eased his foot off the gas pedal, twisting slightly to meet my gaze. “Not that I’m aware of. Why?”

  “Oh, no reason.” My heartbeat pounded a little harder. So, the man from last night hadn’t been an Enforcer like I’d hoped. A part of me had known he wasn’t, deep down in my gut. An inclination. A hunch. Sometimes I got those. The perks of being a witch.

  After several tense and silent moments, Dorian found a parking spot around the side of the hospital on a quiet street with empty sidewalks. We were back here again where it all started, and a shiver of unease skittered through me. If a demon had been summoned here last night, would it still be charging through the building, attacking anyone and everyone it crossed paths with? I’d encountered a demon before. They weren’t exactly pleasant to deal with, and they were strongest after they’d fed.

  Dorian seemed to read my mind as we climbed out of the car. “Don’t worry. Once summoned, demons only have a limited time in our realm, but a couple of our men swept the hospital last night just to be sure. The demon was gone.”

  “I wasn’t worried,” I snapped, determined to show a brave face. As limited as my experience was, I wasn’t a coward, and I would have taken on the demon if that was what I had to do.

  “Of course you weren’t. No reason for an inexperienced witch to be worried about a soul-sucking demon.” There was a patronizing tone to his voice, and it shot away every sense of goodwill I’d started to feel toward the guy. I didn’t care what he’d done to help me out if he was going to treat me like some kind of scared, helpless little girl who needed a dark knight to ride in to save her.

  “I’ll have you know that I’ve faced demons before.” I lifted my chin and glared into his eyes. Or at least I thought I was glaring into his eyes. It was hard to tell with those thick sunglasses obscuring his face. “Not to mention, I don’t need your help, you know. I can handle things myself.”

  The truth was, Dorian was more right than he knew. I’d had trouble mastering the bone magic spells. With no teacher to train me and without access to a grimoire of runes, my powers still hadn’t fully formed. But I wasn’t about to tell him that.

  “So, I guess that means you won’t be wanting this then?” He pulled a dagger out of his trench coat. My dagger. The one the coven had taken from me. With a sharp intake of breath, I reached for it, but Dorian held it just out of my reach.

  “Give it back,” I snapped. “That’s my dagger, and it wasn’t yours to take. You know as well as I do that I need it to cast my spells. Without it, I might as well be a regular human.”

  “I’m aware,” he said with a twitch of his lips. “That’s why the Enforcers wanted to keep it from you.”

  “So, what’s the point of this then?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You going to dangle it in front of me just to piss me off?”

  “Well, I was going to give it back to you, but you’re making me rethink that decision.” He lowered the weapon, shaking his head. “Listen, Zoe. I know you don’t like the situation you’ve gotten yourself into here, and I can see that you’re still angry about last night. But we have to find a way to work together. Otherwise, we’re never going to find the real killer.”

  “And how come you’re so sure that I’m not the killer?” I asked, though I probably should have kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t like I had a ton of people on my side, and he happened to believe I was innocent. Still, I couldn’t help myself. This guy really got underneath my skin.

  “I just know.” His voice was so deep and quiet that I almost didn’t hear him over the roar of the Boston traffic pulsing around the corner. “So, do you want your dagger or not?”

  “I want.” I held open my hand, palm up, the same move I used to get payments during my cons. Speaking of… “You don’t happen to have that cash your friends took from me as well?”

  “Don’t try your luck, Zoe,” he said, though his lips quirked. “I was able to convince them you need your dagger back for this mission, but they couldn’t be swayed when it came to the money. After all, it isn’t rightfully yours.”

  “Fine.” As much as I needed the money, I wasn’t sure just how right I’d feel about taking Jeffrey Baker’s cash now anyway, not after what had happened to him. Not when I could have saved him from his horrible fate. “Just the dagger then. But why’d you take it from me last night, if you were trying to help?”

  “Because I knew the Enforcers had some attack runes drawn and ready to go. If they saw you pointing a dagger at me, they’d cast them without letting you say a word.”

  Dorian dropped the dagger into my hand, and relief flooded my veins. My fingers tightened around the leather handle, and I drew the blade up before me as if I were seconds away from an attack. A hum of power surged through me, an electric sensation that made the world come alive, like I’d taken five shots of espresso within seconds.

  “You know, you’re holding that all wrong if you want to use it in a physical fight.” Dorian inched closer to my side.

  His hand found my elbow, and my body went tight and warm. With steady fingers, he guided my arm into a different angle and lowered my fist several inches. I barely breathed through the entire exchange, far too aware of the way his strong hand felt on my trembling arm. When he was finished, he pressed down on my shoulders, and I bent my legs even more.

  He nodded, taking a step
back. “There. That’s better. Your grip on the handle is far too tight though. You’re practically choking the thing. Hold it like it’s an extension of your arm. Like it’s a part of you.”

  I loosened my grip, letting my fingers relax. And then I sliced the blade through the air, cutting the thick smog that permeated the city streets. Power rumbled within me, and I whipped the dagger sideways once again. With a smile, I slid the blade back into my sheath and stood tall. Dorian had been right. I might be a far cry from anything resembling a ninja, but those slight tweaks had made the blade sing as it sliced before me.

  “Thanks,” I said with a nod. “That felt much better.”

  “Good.” He gave me a grim smile. “Now you’ll be ready when you need to use it.”

  With that ominous thought hanging in the air, we exited the side street to enter the hospital from the front. We were greeted by bright fluorescent lights, a sickly sweet stench, and a bushy-haired woman behind the counter. Her eyes were puffy, and she sniffed loudly before glancing up to see us enter the building.

  “Good morning,” she said in a too bright voice. “How can I help you two?”

  Her eyes flicked over Dorian and his urban cowboy ensemble, but she didn’t comment on it. She was probably too scared to give him anything but a smile.

  Dorian flipped out a badge. One that had a striking resemblance to something a federal agent might have. That was interesting. I took a mental note to ask him about it later. “I’m here about one of your coworkers. A Jeffrey Baker. He’s been reported missing, and we’re speaking to everyone who knows him to see if they have any information about where he might have gone.”

  Interesting lie. I guessed we couldn’t go around telling people he’d been murdered, especially not by a summoned demon. As far as I knew, the coven hadn’t reported his death to the human law enforcement and had zero plans to do so. It was becoming apparent to me that the current leaders wanted to keep the existence of witches and warlocks as secret as they possibly could, even more so than the leaders of the past.