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  BONE COVEN

  WINTER WAYNE, Book 2

  D.N. HOXA

  Copyright © 2018 by D.N. Hoxa

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Also by D.N. Hoxa

  ———————————

  Morta Fox Trilogy

  Heartbeat

  Reclaimed

  Unchanged

  Starlight Saga

  Assassin

  Villain

  Sinner

  Savior

  Chronicles of the Demon Hunter

  A Soul's Worth

  Book Two (Coming Soon)

  Book Three (Coming Soon)

  Water Wielders

  Trapped

  Book Two (Coming Soon)

  Book Three (Coming Soon)

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty one

  Twenty two

  Twenty three

  Twenty four

  Twenty five

  Twenty six

  One

  My mother’s favorite park in Long Island stretched wide in front of me. I stood over the low hill, looking down at it, trying to chase away the sadness that was threatening to bring tears to my eyes. Now was not the time to cry.

  With my small bag in hand, I walked over to her favorite tree, in front of which I’d buried her bones a long time ago. The last time I was there, I was being chased by Ralph Martinez, a former colleague of mine. The werewolf had nearly clawed me to pieces, but somehow, I’d managed to complete the ritual that took the Bone magic from my mother’s bones and filled me with it. It also turned me into a fairy. That was the only reason why I was still alive.

  Normally, when a Bone witch died before her daughter or son was of age, a nice ceremony took place around the grave right at midnight to honor the dead before stripping their bones of magic forever. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to buy candles on my way there while the werewolf was after me, but I did promise my mother that I would be back.

  And here I was.

  It was ten minutes to midnight, and I had just enough time to prepare everything. The sky was moonless, so dark it looked like it was going to swallow the earth whole any second now, but two lampposts were close enough to help me get started. I’d borrowed a really small shovel from my aunt Amelia the day before, and with it, I began to dig.

  Two months had passed since I performed the ritual. The magic that left my mother’s bones turned them all into ash, except for one small piece that was now inside one of my five beads of bone and titanium—courtesy of my great-great-great-grandmother. They swirled around my left hand just like always, looking like a pretty accessory, completely innocent—when they were anything but.

  The white cover I’d wrapped my mother’s bones with was barely visible in the dark. Careful not to let her ashes spill, I pulled it from the ground. The black bag next to me had everything I needed: white, cinnamon-scented candles and a cheap lighter, three Daphne branches full of long leaves, and a beautiful red urn because red was my mother’s favorite color.

  I put the candles in a circle around me. Between each, I put two Daphne leaves. That was when the first tear slipped from my eye. During a normal ritual, the people closest to the dead were supposed to stand around the candles, each with a Daphne branch in hand, and as the descendant said the words, they would pull the leaves and place them on the ground to complete the circle.

  It sucked that I was alone to give my mother the final farewell. I felt empty when the last leaf was in its place. Putting her ashes into the urn stripped me of a large piece of my soul. With a shaking voice, I said the words of the ritual as I would have if it were being done as it should be, though the words had no meaning now.

  Tears flowed down my cheeks and onto my lap. When I closed the urn, it felt so final. Like I had finally agreed to let her go.

  For two months, I’d talked myself into doing this every single night. For two months, I’d talked myself out of it just as fast. Leaving her ashes under ground meant I still had to go back to her. She wasn’t completely gone yet.

  Now, she really was gone. For good.

  With a deep breath, I dried my cheeks with the back of my hand. I’d grieved for my mother for a long time after she passed away. Doing it again would not be something she’d want. It wasn’t something I wanted, either. I’d hold onto her ashes forever. It was the best the world could give me.

  The day before I’d asked my aunt to join me for the ceremony. For the sake of my mother because she deserved more than one person to tell her goodbye. But Amelia had refused. With tears in her eyes, she said that she couldn’t, then ran out of the room. Trying to tell myself that I understood her didn’t help. I was angry, yes, but I was more disappointed.

  With my bag in one hand and the urn in the other, I made my way out of the park, the silence of the night following me.

  The piece of shit car I’d bought by selling one of my mother’s pearl necklaces took four tries until the ignition roared to life. A very weak and painful roar, but at least the wheels worked. They got me where I wanted to go, though the possibility of it breaking down any second was always there. Maybe soon, I’d be able to afford something better. I laughed at myself as I placed my mother’s urn in the passenger seat and put the seatbelt around it, just in case. That kind of soon was nowhere in sight.

  Going out on my own had been much harder than I’d thought it would be. More than once I’d been tempted to give Finn a call, especially in those first few days when paranormals of all kinds would come to my office just to make fun of me and laugh in my face.

  You really think someone’s going to want a fairy to handle anything at all for them?

  Who will even take you seriously with that face?

  What kind of services do you offer? I have a grandson I’d like to scare shitless.

  And my personal favorite—this from an actual fairy: Why not just hang yourself? Unlike me, you’ve been on the other side. You know what it’s like to not be a fairy. Why bother?

  Most times, I tried to push it all away, not let it get to me. Most times, I failed.

  I’d been so positive in the beginning. I thought I’d teach the world to look deeper, to see more than the surface. So far, I hadn’t managed to do a single fucking thing.

  Renting an office on Geraldine Street was a nightmare. It was a neighborhood in Lower Manhattan almost completely filled with paranormals, and the place everybody went to for anything magic. I had a reputation to make for myself before I’d be able to go anywhere I wanted and have people follow me, so the location had been a no-brainer from the get go.

  Needless to say, no paranormal would take me in. Renting from humans was a no-no ever since Alexandra Chase tore down my last apartment just for the heck of it, right before kidnapping my ex. I would never put anyone who couldn’t at least defend themselves in that kind of danger again.

  Lucky for me—or unlucky—there was one small office for rent that nob
ody wanted to even get close to because of the owner. Ms. Zara Riley was an old werewolf, probably eighty, if not older. Saying that she was a pain in the ass was putting it very mildly, and that’s not just because she called me Winny. Fucking Winny. Her apartment was right above the office she rented. This made it easier for her to come down a flight of stairs and right into the office. She had the key, too, and whether you liked it or not, she was going to stay in there with you from morning until four, every single day—Sundays included.

  But did I have any other choice? No sir, I did not. And I couldn’t even afford an apartment anywhere near Geraldine Street, so I had to sleep in the back on an old, secondhand couch I bought from a vampire. The room was so small, I had to walk sideways just to get to the couch. For the first time in my life, I was having trouble sleeping because everything I owned was in there with me. And that wasn’t even the worst part.

  The worst part was when Ms. Riley came down to the office in the middle of the night, saying she couldn’t sleep. She’d sit on her chair by the window and look out at the busy street, saying something every few seconds about anything that caught her eye.

  At first, I thought she’d get off my back because of the way I looked. Everybody else wanted nothing to do with me. Why would she?

  “I’m too old to pick my tenants,” she said to me when I asked her why she agreed to rent to me. The truth was, she was too annoying to pick her tenants, but I kept my mouth shut and smiled because I needed that office, with or without her.

  I thought it couldn’t get any worse, but I had no fucking idea. Those two months were hell. No job. No people to talk to except for my awesome landlady and my aunt on the weekends, nobody to even share a drink with. The bars across the street from my office let me in, but I couldn’t take the stares and the bad jokes for longer than one night. Good thing I could buy my liquor from humans. At least they didn’t look at me any differently than before.

  So, you see, life pretty much sucked for me big time, and even if you put a gun to my head, I couldn’t tell you how to make all the bullshit go away.

  Many times I regretted having shown my face to everyone. I had enough magic in me—fairy magic—to create a disguise and maintain it for a couple of hours at a time, but the damage was already done. In the end, though, when my head hit the pillow at night, I was at peace. For those few hours I was all by myself in the smallest room on the planet, and the world could go screw itself. Being a fairy hadn’t been a choice. Just the hand I was dealt. Sooner or later, people were going to have to accept me, and if they didn’t…I had no idea what I’d do.

  When I arrived at my apartment/office, I sighed in relief to find it empty. No Zara Riley sitting by the window, looking at people like a fucking stalker. That old lady was going to be the death of me.

  I locked the door behind me but took out the key—her rule. The office was small, but it was perfect for me. On the left, right across from the door, was my desk. I couldn’t afford a TV—and even if I did, where would I put it?—so I watched movies on my laptop all day long. It wasn’t work, but at least I got to turn it on.

  A thin drywall separated the area into two rooms for no reason, but it was exactly what I needed. I had a stove, a fridge and some old cupboards I bought off a human. My aunt let me borrow some of her cauldrons and spoons, and she let me buy her herbs at half the price, which was nice. I was teaching myself how to stir when I wasn’t watching movies, and so far, I’d filled Pretter stones with four different spells. It had taken a while—stirring is definitely a pain—but I was getting the hang of it. Baby steps.

  I put the candles and the shovel on the small counter next to the stove and took my laptop with me into the back room. That night, I didn’t want to give myself the chance to think. I was going to watch movies until I passed out.

  In the back room, the free standing wardrobe took up most of the right side, and where it ended, the couch began. Good thing the room was long; otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to even have a wardrobe. The red urn with my mother’s ashes went on top it. It was the only place I could put it, until tomorrow.

  On Sundays, I went to Amelia’s house, bright and early. We had breakfast together, then I helped her with her garden as much as I could. I would have even done her laundry if she asked, just so I could spend time with someone other than my landlady. For now, though, my aunt only wanted to use my magic.

  It wasn’t as strong now as it had been the day I left the fairy realm. It still worked better than I thought possible, but it didn’t buzz with energy inside me like it used to. But my beads did. They were stronger than ever now that I’d actually taken the time to train myself with them. I did it in my room, lying down on the couch, making holes in the walls. When Zara saw them, she was going to flip, but she owed me that much. I put up with her when nobody else would.

  My beads were strong enough to break through concrete now. I’d done it once, but it required my full focus and just the right movement of my fingers. I was teaching myself how my beads responded to them, and I’d gotten the hang of quite a few tricks I never knew I could before. Like, spreading my fingers all the way and then pulling the middle one down towards my palm lined my beads into a perfect circle. The more space between my fingers, the larger the circle. It was all pretty neat, and I was proud of myself. Who knew? Maybe one day those beads would be the only weapon I would need.

  But to need them, I’d actually have to be in a fight. And to be in a fight, I had to be hired first. The sad truth was, nobody wanted to have anything to do with me.

  Julian Walker rushed to my mind just like every other time when I lay down. I opened my laptop and just stared at the screen for a while. Julian was someone who wanted me. He’d asked me to stay with him in the fairy realm. Seeing how my life looked on earth now, I wondered if I should have just said yes.

  I missed him more than was normal because I’d known the guy for only a few days. He was in my mind more often than I would have liked, considering that I would never see him again. But that didn’t mean that replaying that kiss we’d had at Dylan’s cabin in Finger Lakes didn’t make me smile ever so often.

  When the movie started, I hardly saw or heard anything. My mind was busy imagining what if’s, where Julian was the main character. Sleep began to lure me in, and I welcomed it. I didn’t bother to put my laptop away. I just let sleep take me.

  Two

  Saturday morning, I woke up at sunrise and drove to Bloomsburg, something that had become like therapy to me. Leaving Manhattan meant leaving all my troubles behind. At my aunt’s house, nobody would look at me funny. The farther I got from my office, the easier I breathed. Definitely something I wasn’t proud of.

  I arrived at Amelia’s before nine. The ground around the path that led to the front door was full of odorless flowers once again. She’d explained to me how they worked: all of those flowers had really heavy smells. Every person who came to her house for the first time and had never drank her “special tea”, those smells together knocked them out in thirty seconds flat. To get rid of the heavy smell so nobody could tell what the hell was happening, she put some dried leaves of a tree called Pino Nidore right by the flowers’ roots. Julian had known this, as well as the ECU. They’d had no trouble attacking us two months ago.

  Like always, being in that house made me miss Julian more than usual. I saw him in the kitchen, smiling at me. I saw him in the garden, looking at the plants like he knew exactly what each of them was. I saw him everywhere I looked, and it was the only thing that kept my visits from being perfectly pleasant.

  Amelia was in the kitchen making coffee. When I walked in, she didn’t even turn to look because she knew it was me.

  “Good morning, Winter,” she sang.

  “Morning, Amelia. Smells delicious.” My mouth watered. Freshly brewed coffee. Nothing better in the world to start the day.

  “We’re having bacon for breakfast,” she said with a grin, turning to face me. “Jeb got me some of the best in t
he country.”

  Jeb was a Bone witch, the best stirring witch of all according to Amelia, but he couldn’t stand to be in the same room with me. That was why he never showed up when I was there, despite the fact that he was dating my aunt. I pretended I didn’t mind for her sake, but I did, because I didn’t want her to have to change anything at all in her life for me. If she wanted Jeb there, I wanted him to be there, and Amelia wanted him around twenty-four seven.

  “I’m already starving.”

  “You’re going to need all your energy today. The leaves of my cherry tree are ready,” she said, excitedly.

  “For what?” She had all kinds of requests about her plants and nothing ever surprised me anymore, but I thought the cherry tree in her garden was just a cherry tree.

  “They need to be magically dried. When done properly, the leaves can be used in all sorts of healing spells. They work better than anything else.”

  With two cups in hand, Amelia came to the small table for two and nodded for me to sit down. The smell of the steaming coffee filled my nostrils. Perfect.

  “I had no idea.”

  Amelia shrugged. “I’m no Green witch, but I can work some things better than them.”

  I had no doubt about that. She would give her life for that garden. It was all she ever talked about, and all she ever wanted to do was attend to her plants—preferably together with Jeb.

  I looked down at my hands and took a deep breath. “I did it,” I whispered. “I was there last night.”

  I hated to ruin her mood so early in the morning, but she needed to hear it. She needed to be reminded that she should have been there.

  The smile died on her lips. She refused to say a single word, which kind of pissed me off.

  “Yep. I did it all by myself, leaves and all. I’ve got the urn right here.” I pointed at the bag resting against the chair’s legs.

  A visible shiver washed down her back. “You brought her here?” she asked with half a voice.