Page 55 of This Coven Won't Break
Archer greets them both, and the three speak too quietly to hear. Coral scans the crowd, and her eyes grow wide when she recognizes me.
A hand closes around my arm and squeezes tight. “Are youfuckingkidding me?” Alice’s sudden appearance startles me, her voice quiet in my ear. “What the hell aretheydoing here?”
Around me, the coven grows restless as Archer speaks to the newcomers. The kids run off to play. Adults break into small groups to discuss schedules. Morgan’s parents wave her over, and Alice takes her place beside me. As soon as we’re alone, her magictears through my body. “Well, Tree Hugger?” An ache spreads through my bones, and it’s hard to stay on my feet. “I’m waiting.”
“I’m sorry. I—”
“You knew?!” She releases my arm, but the pain only builds as her temper flares. My knees buckle, and her Blood Magic takes control of my body, forcing my legs to stay standing. “Why the fuck didn’t you say something? Why weren’t you at the meeting last night?”
At first, I don’t know what meeting she’s talking about, but then I remember where she heard about the drugged Blood Witch. I remember the voices in Archer’s kitchen. Alice must have been there with Ellen and Elder Keating before she escaped to Morgan’s house.
“Archer didn’t tell me you were meeting.”
“Bullshit.” Her magic makes the muscles around my ribs constrict. “He wouldn’t forget to invite you. The raid is in four fucking days, Snow Queen.”
“Alice,” I say, gasping for breath. “I can’t breathe.”
She scowls at me, then shuts her eyes. Her power leaks out of me, and though she doesn’t say anything, the way she forces herself to breathe more deeply makes me think the pain wasn’t intentional. Her eyes open slowly, and she trains her hard, blue gaze on me. In it, I see the fear she’s channeling into rage. The betrayal she must feel at Lexie and Coral’s unannounced arrival.
“He didn’t forget to invite me,” I admit when I can’t stand her intense glower a second longer. “I’m not part of the raid anymore.”
“Yes. You are,” Alice says, and it sounds more like a threat than a statement.
“I’m not, Alice. I can’t—”
“The hell you can’t.” She steps closer, and this time, the pain that travels down my spine feelsveryintentional. “I don’t know what kind of trap you’ve set by bringing those Casters here, but I amnotwaltzing into the Hunter headquarters alone. No fucking way. You want my help? You better get some skin in the game, Cyclone.”
“Alice—”
“Save it. If you’re not here for the meeting on Saturday, I’m calling my sponsors and going back on tour.” She squeezes her fists, and the pain flares bright. My knees buckle, and she grabs my arm, holding me upright. “And if those Casters do anything to hurt me,” she says, her whispered words curled around my brain like barbed wire, “I’ll stop your heart.”
18
ALICE’S THREATS FOLLOW MEhome that night. Mom talks about how good it was to see everyone and then reviews the plans to keep me safe in the courthouse. I listen as best I can, but I don’t know how to tell her about Alice’s ultimatum: if I don’t go on the raid, it won’t happen at all.
It’s going to break Mom’s heart.
All night, I try to find a way out of this. But no one can force Alice to go through with the raid, not even Elder Keating. Her words from the night we met play on a loop in my head.We do not force our witches to do anything, Hannah. Not even when things are this desperate. It has to be their choice.
If I don’t agree to go with Alice, we’re fucked. I should have warned her about Lexie and Coral. I should have donesomethingbesides write and delete the same texts over and over.
At school, I’m reminded by painted banners that homecoming is tonight, which is...unfortunate. I don’t have anything to wear, but Morgan is so excited, and I’d like to keep at leastonepromise this year.
Thankfully, Gemma comes through for me. After she takes care of my hair and makeup, she lets me wriggle into the dress she wore last year. The flowing red fabric hit her at mid-thigh, but it falls to my knees. Her own dress, pale blue this year, goes all theway to her ankles. When she changed, I noticed the patchwork of angry scars on her right thigh.
“Not a word, Han,” she says when she sees me looking.
I mime zipping my lips and fight the urge to ask if she’s okay. To apologize for her getting hurt in the first place. Instead, I let her lead me out of the house. We pick up Morgan, and her enthusiasm about the dance is infectious. By the time we get to school, I’ve committed to having the best night of my life.
An hour later, I’ve let homecoming erase all the stress that’s been dragging me down for weeks.
Morgan grabs my hand and spins into me, pressing her body against mine as we move to the pounding bass of the maxed-out speakers. My hands slide across the fabric of her black dress, finding a resting place at her waist, tugging her closer. She’s gorgeous tonight. She’s always beautiful, but something about the flush of her cheeks and the way she let a couple strands of hair fall out of her bun sets my pulse on fire. She tilts her head back and presses a kiss to my cheek.
Gemma tried rocking the dance floor without her cane, but it’s clear her leg is still giving her trouble. She sat out the last few songs, and though she played it off by doing tarot readings for some of our classmates, I noticed the way she massaged her thigh. Noticed the crease of pain above her brow.
But she’s back, putting the rest of us to shame as she swivels her hips and moves like her body is made of rhythm and melody instead of muscle and bone. She has her cane now, and she incorporates it into her dancing to take some of the pressure off her leg.
“Hey now, get a room!” Gemma shouts when Morgan tips her head back for a kiss.
