The Crimson Covenant: The Complete Duet

Chapter 11

Ijolt awake, the top of my head slamming into the bottom of the bed and making me swear loudly.

‘Gods damn it,’ I groan, rubbing my forehead.

Like I haven’t been concussed enough.

The pillows remain on the floor beside me with the guys’ head dips left behind, and when I’ve blinked the sleep and bang to my head clear, I spot a note left on Shaw’s pillow. I reach over and take it.

Come downstairs when you’re awake.

After a quick peek, I know the room is empty. I slide out and head to the bathroom.

There are no mirrors in sight and a very obvious pale patch on the wall above the basin where one was. I run my fingers over it, glad of its absence. When I see the mess on my left arm, I feel sick.

‘Fuck me…’ I whisper, inspecting myself. There are dark markings from my wrist all the way up to my elbow. They’re in the deepest reds and look like lightning mixed with strange swirls.

It’s actually quite pretty.

Considering they’re blood magic kindred markings.

It’s a complicated piece of information to take in and accept. Not only am I a blood witch, but a powerful one. And apparently, I have been one since I was a baby.

I see the Kindred markings from last night. Deep red again, and looking like the various stages of the moon cycle, along with what I think is a tree of shadows with roots spreading across the back of my hand.

I swallow and grip the hem of the shirt one of the guys put me in.

Before I can change my mind, I pull it off. It’s a good while before I get the courage to look.

I let out a shaky breath as I see the scars on my stomach. Considering there were none there yesterday, it’s one hell of a shock. I remember the one on my left. Father struck me, and I fell onto a vase. A shard of it stuck into me.

Unable to see my back, I reach behind me and let my fingers glide over my skin. It’s no longer a smooth, soft surface but rough and raised. It makes sense. My father has beaten me with his cane, his belt, books, fire pokers and even a riding crop. I was foolish for thinking his many lashings wouldn’t leave a mark. He would say that he never struck me as hard as I cried, or there would be marks left behind.

Now I know. I had the marks. They were just hidden from view.

I hold my arms before me. Two Kindreds. I mean… that’s pretty impressive. That’s powerful, by any standards. And as a blood witch, that makes me a real force to be fucked with.

It's a shame that my magic will drive me mad with power and turn my soul as dark as the Goddess Hel herself.

I return my mother’s bracelet to my wrist. In an instant, the scars and marks disappear. My skin is once more smooth and pristine.

Better safe than sorry. The last thing I need is to be seen with two blood kindreds.

Washed and dressed in an oversized black shirt and a pair of dark trousers I have to tie up with a belt, I stand by the bedroom door.

My choices are limited. Non-existent, really. Do I stay up here and hide?

Or do I go down there and accept this new situation? Own it. Well… as much as I can.

The chain around my neck is shorter this morning and trails down my cleavage a little. It could pass as a necklace. I’m not tethered to anything or anyone.

A light hissing sound has me standing stock still. Even more so when I look to the corner of the open window and see a snake's head slither through from outside. Its violet eyes are a violent contrast to the deep black of its head. I can’t seem to look away, held fast in its gaze.

‘Hello,’ I offer. ‘Not sure why I just said hello to a snake, but there you go.’ I step closer, admiring its deep blue body speckled with stunning purple. ‘You’re beautiful.’

I saw snakes a lot back home. Living in the forests, I’m used to spotting them slithering past me. I’ve even nabbed a few that managed to sneak into my bedroom.

Never one this beautiful, though. I’m transfixed.

I want to touch it. It’s all I can think about. Of all the snakes I have seen, I’ve never had the compulsion to hold one before.

It moves closer, hovering a few inches towards me, and I swear I can feel a connection between us. It wants to touch me just as much as I want to touch it.

I hold out my hand, giving room for it to choose.

Its tongue darts out, scenting the air.

‘You’re not poisonous, are you?’ I mutter, stepping closer.

It meets my outstretched hand, meeting my fingers and gliding up my hand and around my wrist.

‘Woah…’ As soon as it touches me, I feel a power flow between us. Its skin shimmers, and suddenly, its pattern matches my kindred markings. ‘You’re no ordinary snake, are you?’

It wraps around my wrist and between my fingers, making its way up my arm and neck. It can’t be any longer than seventeen inches long and no thicker than two of my fingers. After a wrap-around of my throat, it travels down my arm and settles.

‘Well… okay then,’ I concede.

The snake has chosen me. I may be a blood witch, but I grew up as an earth witch. And if I know anything, nature is a force unto itself. If she chooses you, be it a storm, a wolf leading you astray, or apparently, a snake slithering up your arm, you don’t argue.

I open the door to find the banshee standing there. Her orange dress hugs her curves. Every curl in her hair lies perfectly. She smiles, revealing those razor-sharp teeth, and her orange eyes glow.

‘Good morning,’ she greets, her voice smooth and seductive. Her smile falters as she looks at my clothes. ‘What on earth are you wearing?’

I look at my clothes. Well, Shaw’s clothes. His trousers and his black shirt. My feet are bare as his boots are ridiculously large.

‘Have the masters not provided you with any dresses?’

‘They did,’ I reply. ‘But they want me to wear them. So I won’t.’

Immature of me? Absolutely. But I will take any small victories I can get with them. No matter how small or petty.

With a tut, she starts fiddling with them, tucking the shirt in here, and unbuttoning it there. With another tut, she undoes my hair from the string I had it tied up with and fluffs it over my shoulders.

‘Now. That’s better,’ she sighs. ‘You are to follow me. My masters have summoned you.’

‘Summoned me?’ I have flashes of another dank room. A table of dark instruments. Blood. Pain.

‘Yes.’ She turns on her heel and starts walking. ‘They do that. Summon. So. How are you enjoying the castle?’

‘I’ll let you know when I actually see it,’ I reply as I follow her. ‘Where am I going?’

‘Follow me,’ she sings, leading me down a long hall. ‘I’ll show you.’

The halls are cold and endless. Each one leads to another and another. We pass countless doors made of thick, solid wood. She tells me what lies where. I hear mention of libraries and studies. Of empty bedrooms and storage spaces. We descend stairs and travel along corridors, and on the ground floor, we pass others. They keep their heads down and wear the same brown dresses. The females that I saw the first night wore the same thing. They called them their masters, too, and obeyed the commands they gave them with a courteous bow. None of them lifts their heads, but they glance at me with brief, stolen looks.

The banshee eventually stops, turns to face me and offers me what would be a brilliant smile if not for the lines of razor-sharp teeth.

She’s placed herself slap bang in front of the door, her hand on her hip and her eyes taking another slow analysis of my clothing.

‘Am I supposed to go in there?’ I ask, nodding to the door she’s blocking.

‘Yes.’

‘Are you going to move aside?’

I hear Shaw talking to someone on the other side of the door. He mentions my name, and the banshee’s eyes actually narrow as if I’ve insulted her.

‘They want me. Do you mind?’ I nod for her to move.

‘You are a strange little pet for them to play with. Plain. Much more simple and boring than the rest of us.’ Her hip pops out, accentuating her curves. ‘They usually like to play with much more experienced and alluring creatures. Not little mud witches who ran away from home because she was too scared of a few little pricks on Rite Night.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘The whole castle is talking about it.’

‘About what?’

‘About you running away from the coven’s Rite, of course,’ she giggles. ‘And throwing yourself at my masters' mercy. Begging them to take you in.’

‘Begging them?’ I scoff.

‘You would have been better off where you were,’ she says, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. But that smirk says she’s revelling in every second. She steps closer. ‘You might last a week or two here with them,’ she declares. ‘Master Dorian is likely to snap your neck if you irritate him. And my Master Ronan is insatiable.’ She bites her lip and looks dreamily into nothing, recalling a delicious memory. ‘He will not put up with your inexperience and frigidness. I know what he likes. And it is not you. It is not a simple little mud witch who was so scared of sex she ran away from being the wife of a coven leader.’

‘You have no fucking idea who I am, Banshee.’

She looks at me and lets out a small laugh. ‘But… I’m going to say that Master Archie will be the one to go too far and end your fragile little life. He’s a strange male with unusual tastes. Even for me.’ The bitch taps the end of my nose. ‘And I should know.’

‘Is that right,’ I reply, taking a step towards her, sure to hold a polite smile. ‘Maybe it will be Shaw that breaks me in half with his massive cock.’ Her eye twitches as, inside the room, Archie bursts out with laughter. Her smugness fades, and jealousy brims in her eyes. ‘Or perhaps they all will the next time they surround me on the bed. When they take off my clothes and take it in turns to fuck me with their tongues and fingers. When they all make me scream in pleasure.’ I relish how her entire face fills with a jealous rage. I tap the end of her nose in just the same condescending way she did to me. ‘They ever do that to you, Banshee?’

‘You won’t last,’ she says. ‘I will.’

‘Perhaps they are bored of monstrous whores,’ I reply. ‘Excuse me, Banshee. Your masters are waiting for me.’ I move her aside, clearing my path to the door.

‘Fuck off, Banshee!’ Archie calls, still laughing. ‘Pixie. Get in here.’

She fades to orange smoke, her warning glare lingering.

Well. That was fun.

And for a moment, I actually thought knowing a banshee would be fun. Exciting, even.

Turns out they’re the same as any other female who is jealous of not getting the attention they feel entitled to.

Same as Thalia.

I hear a massive crash, and Shaw swears loudly. Archie bursts into even more hysterics, and Dorian groans loudly.

‘Not sure they’re meant to be on the floor, Shaw, ’ Dorian says.

‘I’m aware of that, Dorian,’ he drawls back. ‘Thanks for stating the obvious.’

When I open the door, the most delicious smell greets me.

Cooked pork, roasted potatoes, baked berries with pastry and sugar.

I look at the three warlord immortals and am left utterly stunned.

Dorian has flour over his cheek and hair. His grey shirt is stained with red. At first, I think it’s blood, but on closer inspection, I see it’s a mixture of crushed berries.

Shaw has a tray of roasted vegetables in his hand. Half of which have fallen to the floor. He’s utterly dishevelled, and behind him is a pile of burnt potatoes.

Archie is in the middle of placing a sprig of rosemary on a perfectly roasted pork joint.

And all three look at me.

No words come to mind. The entire kitchen looks like it’s been ransacked. Ingredients cover the floor, surfaces and even the walls.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask, stepping inside, my foot crushing a rogue carrot. ‘I thought you didn’t eat food.’

‘No. But you do,’ Archie beams, proudly gesturing to the perfectly prepared meat on the table. ‘Surprise.’

‘You… you cooked… for me?’

‘Well. I did.’ Archie chuckles and looks at Dorian and Ronan. ‘Not sure what those two are doing.’

‘I made a red berry pie,’ Dorian replies indignantly, gesturing to what I think is supposed to be a baked latticed pie. It’s a little burnt on one side, the filling has spilled out, and the lattice is a twisted mess. But the cooked sugar and sweet filling has my mouth watering.

Then I look at Shaw.

‘I dropped the tray,’ he says, sadly looking at the fallen vegetables. ‘Saved as many as I could. You like parsnips?’

‘I’ve never had parsnips,’ I reply, still stunned. Behind him, black smoke starts coming from the oven. ‘Erm. I think something’s burning.’

Dorian rushes over and rescues… I have no idea what.

‘Forgot about the bread,’ he grumbles, dropping the charcoal mess on the table. ‘Sorry, Poppet.’

I choose to ignore his ridiculous nickname. Nothing else seems to register with me anyway.

‘You all cooked for me?’ I repeat, the words not quite making sense.

Archie pulls out a chair, brushes off the flour and carrot peel, and gestures for me to sit.

‘I don’t get it,’ I say.

‘What’s not to get?’ Archie asks. ‘It’s food. You eat it.’

‘But you don’t. Why have you done this?’

‘It was Archie’s idea,’ Dorian says. ‘And he wouldn’t shut up until we agreed.’

Archie walks over and stops close, looking down at me. I tense, watching his hands, preparing to be grabbed or something. He notices me staring and makes a point of cupping his hands behind his back.

‘We haven’t gotten off to the best start,’ he says.

My brow raises. No fucking shit we haven’t.

‘Yeah, you’ve kidnapped me and have a chain around my neck.’

‘But in the grand scheme of things, you’re much better off here than back where we found you.’ His gaze scans my body, and I know he’s seeing the marks beneath the clothes. The proof of the beatings, hidden by the glamour. ‘And we are much better off with you and your blood here with us. A fresh start, yes? Holy fuck. I’m sorry, but do you have a fucking snake wrapped around your arm?’ he asks, pointing at precisely that. ‘She does.’ He turns to Shaw. ‘She has a mother fucking snake wrapped around her arm!’

Dorian steps back, bumping into the counter and visibly pales. ‘What the hell is that thing?’ he stammers.

I get the impression he isn’t a fan. I hold her up, admiring her, and he and Archie both recoil.

‘She’s just a little snake,’ I laugh. ‘You two are immortal warriors. Surely you’re not scared of her.’ I hold her closer to them, and they both step back.

‘Where did you find her?’ Shaw asks, putting down the tray and coming to take a look for himself.

‘She came to me.’ His eyes shine as he looks at her. He actually smiles. ‘Back home, we’re taught never to disregard a gift from nature. It’s sacrilege. And when a living creature comes to you, it’s an honour. Not sure what kind of snake she is. I’ve never seen one like her before.’

‘She’s a Kedar,’ Shaw says, taking my elbow and lifting it. ‘A very rare breed.’ He blinks and looks from her to me. ‘She’s also the most poisonous creature on the planet. One bite delivers enough venom to kill a hundred mortal men.’

‘Could she kill you?’

His lip twitches in a smile. ‘No, Pixie. It would hurt like hell but wouldn’t kill us. So don’t get any ideas.’

His hand wraps around mine so our forearms touch. The hairs on my skin stand up, and I erupt in goosebumps.

He’s too busy watching the snake to notice.

The Kedar slithers across to him and wraps around his arm. Her tongue darts out as her head lifts, and the two look at each other for the longest time. Unblinking. Unmoving.

‘Ronan?’ Archie says nervously.

Shaw doesn’t answer but continues in this strange stare-off until she breaks away and returns to me.

‘Kill the fucking thing, Ronan!’ Dorian hisses.

I hold her closer to my chest, feeling strangely protective over her.

‘You will not kill her!’ I insist.

‘If that creature bites her, she’ll be dead in a second,’ Dorian reminds him.

‘The snake’s a familiar, Dorian,’ Shaw replies, walking to a cupboard and pulling out a liquor bottle. ‘Its markings mimic her kindred. Almost all kindred witches have a familiar.’

‘I’ve never seen a witch with a deadly snake before,' Archie says. 'They’re usually cats or something.’

‘Well, hers is a Kedar. And the only thing that snake may kill is a threat to our Pixie.’

‘So… you?’ I counter, hitching a brow and suddenly even more fond of my snake friend.

‘Obviously,’ Shaw scoffs, pulling free the cork and drinking heavily from the bottle. ‘That’s why she just bit me. Sit, Pixie. Eat.’

The snake slithers from my arm and lands on the table as I sink into a chair.

Archie tucks my chair in as the others prepare a plate.

A full meal is placed before me, and they sit. All three look on, watching with anxious excitement. Three huge men, covered in scars that drink blood, all on the edge of their seats as I pick up a fork.

‘It’s not poisoned, is it?’

‘No.’

‘This is the strangest breakfast I have ever had.’

‘Get on with it,’ Archie grins, stabbing a slice of meat with a fork and then shoving it into my mouth.

‘Oh-my-gods!’ I moan loudly and without restraint, losing myself to the tenderness of it on my tongue, the full-bodied taste and utterly delicious seasoning. When I go to take the fork, he smacks my hand away and gets some of the vegetables. He feeds me another mouthful, and my whole body explodes in goosebumps.

‘Good?’ Archie asks, his whole face riddled with childlike excitement.

‘Delicious!’ I correct, grabbing a roasted parsnip and shoving it into my mouth.

The snake is winding between the plates, and Dorian refuses to look away from her.

‘You scared of snakes?’ I ask him.

‘I’m not scared of shit,’ he snipes back but flinches when she flicks her head in his direction as if slighted by his words.

I carry on eating, shovelling food into my face with manners that would have earned me a punishment from Father.

But the boys seem amused, watching me ravage their creations.

‘So,’ I ask Shaw. ‘You and the banshee?’

Dorian and Archie look at him. Shaw shrugs and nods to the food.

‘You can fatten me up and answer my question.’

‘No questions today,’ he replies. ‘Just eating and rest.’

‘What do I have to do to earn my three questions?’

‘I can think of a few things,’ Archie replies.

‘No questions today.’ Shaw stands. ‘And don’t antagonise the banshee. She’s not something to piss off. Stay clear of her.’

‘How do I do that? She appears in smoke, and besides, you sent her to me.’

‘You know… I’ve only ever seen the banshee in that one dress. And we haven’t brought her anything. Where does she even sleep?’ Archie scratches his head. ‘Do banshees go to the toilet?’

‘You get very easily distracted, Archie.’ I laugh.

His eyes widen as he looks at me.

‘We went through this. Master.’

My snake gives him a hiss, and he promptly removes his elbows from the table before giving his best attempt at a hiss back to her.

I swear, she rolls her eyes before slithering back to me.

‘Are you still going to the Coven today?’ I ask, attempting to sound uncaring.

‘Yes.’ Shaw grabs his coat from the back of the chair. ‘We are.’

‘We? Am I coming?’

They all laugh at that suggestion.

‘No. We are not returning you to a powerful group of witches that want to kill you. Dorian and I are going. You are staying here. Rest. Food.’

‘What are you going to do when you get there?’ I ask.

‘Make sure she eats some more food,’ he tells Archie, ignoring my question.

‘The banshee thinks I ran away from them,’ I add.

‘Yes.’ Shaw straightens his collar. ‘And if anyone asks, that’s what you say. You ran from your coven, and I granted you refuge here. Don’t roll your eyes, Pixie. What would you have us say? The truth? I’ll be sure to wave at your skull when I pass it on the gates if the truth ever does come out.’

As he heads to the door, he crouches so he’s eye level with me.

‘As much as I enjoy seeing you in my clothes, I’m curious if you have chosen to wear them because you’re covering the marks we’ve discovered on your body or if it’s to get a reaction. The truth now.’

‘I’m sorry. You have no questions today,’ I smile, tilting my head to the side. ‘Try again tomorrow.’

His eyes narrow as he sees the bracelet on my wrist.

‘I could get you some dresses from the village that cover the scars if you like. Ones with long sleeves? They’ll cover the Kindred markings, too.’

‘If you find my scars disgusting, don’t look at them.’

‘I don’t give a shit about them, Pixie. Except for the fact that someone dared put them on you. So, as I said, I will get you some dresses if you want to cover them up.’

‘Don’t do that,’ I reply, meeting his intense stare, my smile faltering.

‘Do what?’

‘Be nice to me. You’re not nice.’

‘We might be nice.’

I stand, the chair legs scraping as the chair slides back. He rises to maintain eye contact.

‘I don’t want to be walking on eggshells here. Be you. Be what I expect. Don’t be kind because when you go back to being a dick head, it will be a disappointment.’ I look at them all. ‘Thank you for the meal. I’ll clean the mess up. Tell my coven I say hi.’

Shaw grabs my elbow as I turn to deal with the dishes. He points at me.

‘You do not antagonise anything you meet.’

‘Anything?’ I repeat.

‘If a door is closed, you do not open it. You can get some air, explore the grounds, but don’t go too far. And if you try to run-’

‘I know. You’ll hunt me down and kill me.’

‘No. We’ll hunt you down and make you sorry. Understood?’

I hiss as his bite burns my shoulder.

Like I have a choice. He’s just compelled me.

‘Yes,’ I grind back through clenched teeth.

‘Yes… what?’

‘Yes, Master.’ I offer him a sickly and incredibly patronising smile.

The snake hisses at him, so he looks it straight in the eye.

‘You protect our Pixie. Keep her safe. I’ll bring back something delicious for you if you do. Deal?’

The snake fucking nods and slithers another loop around my arm.

Traitor.

‘Archie will be staying here.’ Shaw side-eyes Archie. ‘Hands to yourself, Archie. We need her in one piece.’

Archie gives a very patronising salute as he leans back and rests his feet on the table.

Dorian and Shaw leave.

I get to work on cleaning up.

‘You know…’ Archie says with that damned smile. ‘If you wanna clean in the nude, I’m totally cool with that.’

I scoff. Loudly.

‘In your dreams, dog boy.’

With my back turned, I smile, enjoying his gentle chuckle.

It took a good couple of hours to get their kitchen back to what I think it was before. But judging by the inches of dust, I don’t think it’s ever been cleaned. I didn’t mind. It kept me busy, and it was nice to be able to control something for a while. To see a task and complete it. I try not to think of what they’ll find at the coven. I wonder how many survived. Who died. Is Cole still alive? Did they find my father?

And what will Shaw and Dorian do? They seemed pissed when they found out about the trigger. Part of me wishes I went with them.

Only a tiny part.

These feelings of vengeance are strong. They’re overpowering. I’m not used to it and can’t help but wonder if the blood magic is responsible. But then I remember what the fuckers did, and I think my feelings toward my old earth coven are more than justified.

Every scrap of food I could save has been stored away for later. Who knows when I’ll get a meal like that again. Archie got bored and left after half an hour or so, saying he wanted to stretch his legs. He reminded me to behave, but not too much. Because where would the fun be in that?

I reach out for the Kedar snake. She slithers around my wrist, and we head out to explore.

When my bare feet touch the earth, and the cool air fills my lungs, I can’t contain the bliss-filled sigh I let out.

Space and sky and trees. Perfect.

Wriggling my toes, I revel in the damp soil, and without hesitation, I head towards the treeline of the dense woods.

The woodlands are ancient. The trees are some of the biggest I have ever seen, with gnarled roots that twist and bend deep beneath the soil and high around their trunks. The canopy above is lush and wonderfully green. The forest back home isn’t a patch on this. Strange, I think. Considering how we’re an Earth Coven. The sanctity and life of nature are our pride and pleasure to maintain. After all, we are nothing without the power of the earth. Just as water witches are nothing without the sea, and air witches are nothing without a breeze.

I wonder again about what is happening back home. If Dorian and Shaw are there right now. Of what they are doing.

‘Stop it,’ I hiss, scorning myself.

My old coven may as well be dead. I sure as hell am to them. And I certainly will be if they ever get their hands on me again.

I stop when I hear a sad little bleat. I follow the sound and see a small fawn lying on its side. Its leg is badly damaged. When it shifts, a huge gash on its side becomes visible. I retch when organs slither out.

‘You poor little thing,’ I comfort, kneeling at its side. ‘Something took a chunk out of you, didn’t it?’

Its sad little cries break my heart. It’s not uncommon to see injured and dying animals in the forests. I’ve seen countless. It happens, but it doesn’t get any easier.

This fawn will never recover. Its death will take a few hours.

My hand rests on the wound, and as soon as I feel its warm blood, I gasp and pull away. The instant connection to the blood has my heart pounding and a strength coursing through me with dizzying force. Instant power. Unmistakable and so fucking tempting. My palm hovers over the bleeding creature. The pull is intense. Unlike anything I could ever hope to compare it to. The closer I get, the more it calls. The more it promises.

Power. Magic. Strength.

The closer I go, my fingers flex in need. In want.

My hand stops, trembling with desperation to feel that warm blood. To take that power. It’s mine. Mine and no one else's. I’m owed it. I own it!

No.

My palm rests on the soil, and I close my eyes, feeling the connection to the earth's magic moving like a stream below. It ebbs and flows. Ripples of energy and strength. Roots and vines grow over my palm, wrapping around my wrist and tightening. My other hand rests on the fawn.

And I channel that power. I become a link between the two. The magic I take from the earth is used to heal the fawn. It’s a drain. It makes me ache, and every passing second is exhausting.

But that is what magic is. Taking energy from one place and making it something better for something else. Making fruit ripen. Flowers bloom. Soil fertile. Healing what is sick. Fixing what is broken.

When I open my eyes, the gash on its side closes, and on shaky legs, it stumbles upright. The baby leans in, its forehead meeting mine in unspoken thanks, before bounding away and becoming lost to the endless trees surrounding us.

The fawn was healed, and I’m left all the weaker for it.

But that’s ok.

That’s what earth magic is for.