Page 3 of The Coven

A gift from my father’s lineage—a trait that had faded away centuries prior.

“When have I ever cared for yourcustoms, Mr. Whitlock?” I asked, pulling my loose gray cardigan tighter around myself as the wave of his distrust washed over me. I turned to face where my brother waited at the exit, pursing my lips as I took the first step toward him.

They would do what they wanted with my mother’s body from here, and I would continue to exact her wishes as she requested. Ash pressed into my side when I reached him, then tugged open the door to allow him to walk through. I cast a lone glance back toward my mother’s casket, knowing that soon there would be no turning back.

Without my mother’s wards, the destiny my parents had chosen would come for me whether I wanted it or not.

* * *

“Get your things,” I said, swallowing past the surge of emotion that seemed to clog my throat. The humans in town often called it a frog in the throat because of the hoarseness. I’d never understood the analogy, instead feeling as if it were grave dirt coming to claim me from the inside.

“I don’t want to go,” Ash pleaded, turning his brown eyes up to stare at me as I swung the front door closed behind me. It closed easily, so at odds with the way the wood swelled in the humidity of summer, making it difficult to squeeze into the frame. I spun, giving Ash my back as I clicked the deadbolt into place and drew the chain across the gap that let in far too much of the unseasonable air.

September wasn’t usually so cold, even in our little town in the mountains of Vermont.

I kicked off the black flats I’d worn for Mom’s service, nudging them to the side as I spun back to face my brother. Even with Mom gone, even knowing that soon enough this house would sit empty and forgotten, I couldn’t bring myself to disobey her rules.

Rules that she no longer cared for.

Tears stung my eyes as I bent forward, touching my mouth to Ash’s forehead. I felt him sigh beneath the touch, his gaze holding mine when I pulled back.

“You know we can’t stay here,” I explained, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. I tugged him out of the cramped entryway, heading toward the stairwell at the entrance to the living room.

He shrugged me off, rounding on me with his face twisted into a scowl. “Why not? Why won’t you tell me where you’re going?”

My eyes fell closed, knowing that the secrecy my mother had sworn me to was for his own protection. I just wished I could make him understand, that he could see just how little I cared for the duty they’d given me.

If I’d had it my way, destiny could kiss my ass.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older. I promise,” I explained, heading for the stairwell.

I placed my hand on the old, walnut railing and glanced up toward my bedroom as I took the first step. The urge to bury myself beneath the blankets was all-consuming, wanting to hide away from the world; from the responsibilities and the expectations pressing down on me.

“You’ve been saying that for years! When?”

I ran my hands over my face, moving down from the step and squatting in front of Ash. “When you’re sixteen, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

“Why not now?” he asked, his bottom lip trembling.

Our mother had never meant to have another child, not after the reality of what I was and what that would mean for those closest to me. The least we could do was protect him with everything we had—even if it meant abandoning him to people he barely knew in the process.

Living with his father’s family was far better than dying alongside me in this stupid, foolish duty that I couldn’t seem to escape.

“I wouldn’t leave you if I had a choice. Please believe that,” I said, taking his hands in mine. I squeezed them tightly, and I knew from the tears pooling in his eyes that he did. All his life, he’d been my entire world. He’d been the one my mother used to motivate me to practice the magic that felt so distant at first.

The promise of protecting him was all I needed to know to believe that it was worth it.

“So come with me,” he said, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. “My dad will take care of you until you find a new job. You know he will.”

He would. Ash’s father wasn’t like mine. He was good and patient, loving and warm. He was everything a father should have been, and it was only due to our mother’s need for secrecy that he hadn’t been able to spend more time with his son.

But he couldn’t protect me against what was coming, and worse yet, he couldn’t protect Ash from the danger of being at my side when it did.

“It isn’t that easy, Bug,” I said, the term of endearment I hadn’t used in months rolling off my tongue. It was the name Mom called him, but her illness had taken her ability to speak in the end.

Using it without her had seemed wrong.

Mom’s coat seemed to sway on the rack as if a phantom breeze passed through the house, sending a chill up my spine. A reminder of how impossible it would be for me to go with him.

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