mythean arcana 07 - witchs fate (20 page)

Gods, she didn’t want any more reasons to care for him. She had too many as it was. On top of her memories, she now could accept that he’d essentially been brainwashed into becoming a warlock. Not to mention his constant attempts to save her life. He’d made terrible choices in the past—unforgivable choices, no matter his upbringing—but she was falling for him. 

She couldn’t help it. 

And it would be the end of her.

Warmth suffused one side of Malcolm’s body. Sofia’s scent overwhelmed him. His eyes snapped open. Bright morning sun filtered through the mullioned windows. He glanced right.

She lay curled up against his side, her dark hair gleaming in the light. She wore all her clothes—even her jacket. Dust covered it.

The sight brought back a memory of the night before. The witches charging into the dungeon after Felix had busted through the wall. They’d thrown a blast of magic at them and then…

Nothing.

He remembered nothing after that.

No doubt he’d been knocked out. Sofia had saved him? His brother?

The questions were driven from his mind when she shifted, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Satisfaction and comfort enveloped him.
This
is what he’d wanted all these years. Not just her body or her wit or her strength, but her constant companionship. When he’d first met her, he’d known without a doubt that he’d found his mate, a concept that had only been whispered about amongst his people.

It’d been an entirely foreign notion for a boy raised by sorcerers. Not all sorcerers were like his clan, but he hadn’t realized that until he’d been far older. No one in his village had had a mate. It was impossible. They worshipped power to the point that becoming a warlock was the ultimate goal. The
only
goal. 

Most of the adults had been warlocks—unable to love another without fate tearing it from their grasp. That extended to children as well. Children were conceived and raised out of necessity, not love. The desire to pass on their line was strong amongst his people, as it was amongst Mytheans and mortals alike.

He remembered being on a trip to the village with his friend Corbin as a boy. A street performer had been singing a ballad about love, a word he’d never even heard. Girls had been gazing at the singer, their eyes gleaming. He and Corbin had watched, completely perplexed. They’d only figured out the meaning of the word through context in the song. It’d barely made sense to him.

Not until he’d met Sofia. 

And then he’d fucked things up.

He shook the thought away. He would win her back. He
had
to. 

Sofia shifted. 

He glanced at her. Her eyes flew open, confused. 

He pulled her toward him and kissed her hard, then pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers. “Bloody hell, I was afraid I’d lost you.”

She scrambled up until she sat next to him.

“You’re all right.” There was relief in her voice. She reached out to touch his chest, then drew her hand away.

“What happened?” he asked.

The story she told of the Salem Coven made his brows rise. When she finished, he asked, “Everyone is here?”

“I think so. Felix said they would stay. Inara has to tell us what the Salem Coven knows about me.” Worry flashed across her features. She climbed out of bed. 

He rose and his gaze followed her across the room. Kitty jumped off the chair by the fire and followed her.

“I’m going to shower,” she said. “Then let’s all meet in the kitchen.”

“Sofia,” he said as she went through the door. She turned to look at him. “Thank you for saving me.”

Her brow creased. “Of course.” She turned and left.

Malcolm scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck. Bloody hell, winning her was going to be hard. She was so skittish. He sighed, then headed to the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, he headed down to the kitchen. His brother and Aurora were at the stove making bacon, from the smell of it. Esha and Warren were pouring coffee, her dark head bent near his blond one. Inara stood at the island, scooping scrambled eggs onto plates.

Felix turned and asked, “Feeling better?”

Malcolm nodded. “Thank you for coming to get us. All of you.”

Esha lowered her cup from her mouth. “Not a problem. I enjoyed it. Nothing like a little battle.”

“Aye. I don’t get out often enough,” Warren said.

Sofia walked into the kitchen, Kitty trailing her.

Aurora turned from the stove, her golden hair gleaming. “Morning. I’m Aurora.” She pointed at her sleek black familiar who sat at her side, gnawing on a piece of bacon. “That’s Mouse.”

“I’m Esha.” She pointed at the big, scruffy tomcat who gazed longingly at Mouse. “That’s Chairman Meow.”

“Warren.” He nodded at Sofia.

“Nice to meet you,” Sofia said. “Thanks for getting us out of there.”

“No problem,” Aurora said, then glanced at the stove. “Bacon’s done. Let’s eat.”

They all collected plates and sat at the kitchen table.

“My enchantment never worked, so why did you help us?” Malcolm asked Inara before he took a bite of food. It didn’t make any sense.

“I had my reasons.”

“You’re going to have to expound upon that,” he said.

She sighed and put her fork down. “Or what?”

“You won’t like the consequences.” Her knowledge might threaten Sofia. He’d stop at nothing to eliminate that threat.

She glared at him. “Fine. I hate the Salem Coven. I joined when I was young. Two years ago, I fell in love. He ran afoul of the coven. A month later, he was dead. I could never prove anything because they kept it quiet, but I know it was my coven mates. I know it. I can read auras. It’s one of my gifts. I read guilt in theirs. When you came and wanted to steal the book, I thought
why not
? Neither of you have evil auras, and I wanted vengeance.”

“You aren’t worried about what we’ll do with the book?”

“No.” 

Her expression was a bit strange, but before Malcolm could ask why, Sofia spoke. “What does the coven know about me? Why were they so interested?”

“Ah.” Inara’s gaze dropped, as if she didn’t know how to phrase her next comment. “Well, you see, your position is fairly well known amongst the most powerful covens.”

“What do you mean?”

“The High Witches have a really sweet deal worked out with you and your line of Bruxas. You bring the tributes or they destroy your village. Did you ever wonder how that came about?”

“Not often, no. It’s always been part of my life. And my mother’s and grandmother’s before me.”

“Well, it’s an unusual situation. Most Mythean groups don’t do things like that—at least not on earth and not anymore. Going to another group of Mytheans—or in your case, a village—and threatening war and destruction is frowned upon. Like, really frowned upon. Organizations like the university in Edinburgh or the Grand Council of Witches or the Weres’ Consortium usually lay the smack-down on that kind of large-scale potential warfare. If it were allowed, there’s no way we could stay secret from mortals. Not if everyone were off fighting big old battles.”

“I know,” Sofia said. “But I just assumed my situation was older—established before the rule of law.”

“It’s not—not really. Witches are one of the oldest groups of Mytheans. Mortals have believed in witchcraft for millennia, after all. We’ve had our rules in place for that long. A situation like yours is forbidden. Except in certain circumstances.”

“Circumstances?”

“You’re really powerful for Bruxa. Your whole matrilineal line is enormously powerful. Mythologically speaking, you shouldn’t be that strong. Bruxas are moderately strong witches, but nothing like you or your ancestors.”

“Our strength has something do to with this problem, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Your ancestors made a deal with the High Witches thousands of years ago. In exchange for extra magical ability, their descendants and the village of Bruxa’s Eye would be forced into the situation you currently find yourself in.”

The breath whooshed out of Sofia’s lungs. Her color was ashen. “What?” 

“Yeah. Your ancestors basically betrayed you before you were born. For the High Witches, it’s pretty much the best deal ever. That’s why my coven knew about your history. When we were reading your mind and realized who you were, it was easy to put two and two together.”

“How can she get out of this?” Malcolm demanded.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sofia said, her voice trembling. “It’s my responsibility. I have to do it.”

“No, you don’t.” Rage boiled in Malcolm’s chest.

“She does,” Inara said. “I don’t exactly know the nature of it, but she’s supposed to die if she abandons her post. She’s tied to it somehow. At least, that’s the rumor.”

Malcolm scrubbed a hand over his face. This was bloody awful news.

“I wouldn’t abandon my post. Or my village,” Sofia said. “And it’s okay. We got the book.”

Relief loosened the knot in Malcolm’s chest. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the coin, then laid it on the table. With a wave of his hand, he transformed it back into its original shape. The tome sat, heavy and bound in leather. Power radiated from it.

“Holy shit—that’s impressive,” Esha breathed.

“It’s our ticket out of this,” Sofia said.

It burst into flames.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sofia jumped back. “What the hell?”

Flames devoured the book. Within seconds, it turned to ash.

Her heart began to pound and chills ran over her body. She lunged over the desk and grabbed Inara by the collar. “What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know,” Inara choked. She shook Sofia’s arm. 

Shaking, Sofia let go and sat back. 

Malcolm looked ready to commit murder. “Explain,” he growled.

“I really have no idea what happened.”

“That Grimoire is clearly enchanted,” Malcolm said. “Why? So it couldn’t leave the coven’s possession?”

“Makes sense,” Inara said. “But I’d really never heard of that before. No one ever talked about what would happen if it left, but that’s because everyone assumed it wouldn’t be stolen.”

Sofia’s heart sank. 

“It makes sense,” Aurora said. “It’s an uncommon spell, but the Salem Coven is capable of uncommon magic.” 

Sofia felt like the ground had fallen out from beneath her feet. “They’re going to destroy my home.” Her voice sounded dead, even to her ears. “There are no third chances.”

She was so screwed. Like, an all-time level of screwed. 
She’d failed. She’d
really
failed. “We need to evacuate the village. Get everyone out before they come. How many days do we have left?”

“Three.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Damn it. Convincing everyone is going to be nearly impossible. They’ll want to fight.”

“Can’t they?” Warren asked.

“Sure,” Sofia said. “But we can’t win. The High Witches are too strong. They destroyed the population of an entire afterworld to build their home.” The memory of the desolate afterworld made her shiver. “The stories my mother told...” As a teenager, all she’d wanted to do was fight. To break free of these chains. “We can’t win against them. Not if they could kill everyone in a whole afterworld. They destroyed
souls
. How is our village supposed to stand up to that? And my ancestor apparently put us in this position.” Tears pricked her eyes. Damn it. She’d always thought that her line had volunteered to protect the village. That was how the story was told. But to learn that her own family had sold her up the river?

“The village is fated to be destroyed, is what you mean?” Aurora asked.

“Basically. It wouldn’t be a normal fight. We don’t stand a chance,” she said.

“Then we evacuate,” Malcolm said, his voice clipped. “Once everyone is convinced, it’ll take no time for them to leave. Many can aetherwalk and those who can’t shall go with the other. The village shall be clear in minutes. And we have three days.”

Sofia wanted to sink under the table and curl up in a ball.

Instead, she placed her palm on Kitty’s back for a bit of strength, then stood. “I’m going to go home. Talk to the leaders of the village factions, convince them to leave.” She looked at everyone. “Thanks for your help. Really.”