Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Eyeing her like they’d never seen her before, they backed up a few steps and then ran off.
Taking a deep breath, Emberlyn lowered her arms back to her sides. Hearing a rustle of grass behind her, she whirled. Her grandmother stood there in one of her black robes, her long gray hair its usual scraggly mess.
‘Not bad, girl, not bad,’ said Millicent, staring down at her through pale-hazel eyes that she’d passed onto Emberlyn. Eyes that people called eerie. ‘The little fuckers sure had it coming,’ she added, anger in every word.
‘You weren’t mad yesterday when I told you what they’d done.’ Millicent hadn’t even looked away from the book she’d been reading on soul stealing.
Millicent frowned. ‘Girl, I was majorly pissed. I came close to infesting their homes with every bug you can think of. But the coven needs to see that you can fight your own battles.’
‘And you were curious to see what I’d do,’ Emberlyn sensed.
Millicent grinned. ‘Something like that. You know, they only pick on you because they fear you and they’re jealous of your potential. They sense that your magick is strong, so they want to make you feel weak. Others from the coven will try to do the same.’ Her face darkened. ‘Don’t let them. Not now, not ever. If they or anyone else comes at you, you make them wish they hadn’t. Be the biggest, baddest witch in town so no one ever dares bully you again.’
CHAPTER ONE
Twenty years later
‘Wait!’
The word sliced through the air, causing everyone at the gravesite to pause. It was Emberlyn’s aunt who’d spoken, her blue eyes wide, her arms stretched out.
Gill licked her lips. ‘Did anyone check the casket? Just to be sure she hasn’t . . . you know . . . come back?’
Not one person snickered. In fact, some shifted uncomfortably at the thought. If any witch could have found a way to cheat death, it would have been Millicent Vautier.
She had not been well liked at Chilgrave, nor had she made any attempt to be. All Millicent had been interested in was acquiring more power. There were no forms of magick she hadn’t dabbled in, no spells she’d shied away from. She’d had not one problem casting curses, sacrificing animals, invoking demons, working with dark deities or any such shit.
Given the risks that Millicent had consistently taken and the depths of magick she’d explored, Emberlyn considered it an absolute miracle that her grandmother had died a peaceful death – falling into an eternal slumber while taking a nap on a park bench on a warmish March day.
The threads of grief wrapped tight around her heart contracted as she recalled hearing news of Millicent’s passing. It had been a dark day for Emberlyn, who’d loved the woman fiercely regardless of her . . . proclivities.
The High Priestess Reena cleared her throat. ‘Maybe we should take a look.’
Three of Emberlyn’s relatives stepped out of the nearby cluster of mourners.
Not really ‘part’ of the family, Emberlyn stood off to the side with her best friends, Paisley and Kage. The twins were her only real friends, to be truthful.
As people cautiously approached the coffin like it was a ticking bomb, Emberlyn idly swept her gaze over the charmingly gothic cemetery. It was perched on a slight hill, so the lines of headstones were a little higgledy-piggledy. Most of the tablets were granite, but others were concrete and marble – and all in various hues with lawns and flowerbeds. Sun-bleached statues and carvings and other monuments were sporadically placed here and there.
The cemetery’s charm was woven throughout the entire town. Surrounded by lush forests that stretched for miles upon miles, Chilgrave was a patchwork of buildings from various eras . . . and it had once been home to both the first witch and the first werewolf.
There were lots of theories as to how Lilith Vautier – Emberlyn’s ancestor – had come to be a witch. Similarly, there were many stories explaining how her lover, Lupin Stone, had become a werewolf. No one knew the ‘hows’ of it for sure.
Whatever the case, fascinated enough by the fictional stories of preternatural creatures, the couple had sought – and found – a way to become them. Lilith had shared her power with some of her townspeople. Likewise, Lupin had subjected others to the Change, creating more just like him. The coven’s children were subsequently born witches, just as the clan’s offspring were born werewolves. A grave inheritance indeed.
And so here in this town lived the descendants of the original coven and the original clan. It meant they were stronger and more powerful than average witches and werewolves.
Hearing a creak, Emberlyn looked to see her Uncle Dez awkwardly opening the casket. She couldn’t see the interior from this angle, but going by the looks of relief that graced the faces of her relatives, she would imagine that it did still contain a corpse. Then their expressions once again crumpled with fake grief.