The Promise (The Coven Series) (31 page)

The
book heaved and groaned.
 
It twisted and
grew, doubling, tripling in size and length.
 
The pages continued to swell in number.
 
I gasped at the weight of it.
 
After a moment it gave a final shudder and lay still upon my lap.
 

“You
see, girlie, it does belong to you,” Mr. Warren told me gently and helped me
put the book on the table in front of me.
 
“I seen what happened to it that day you touched it and fetched your
Daddy.
 
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him
look so scared in his life.
 
He gave you
over to me and soon as you was out of the room it shrank down to its normal
size.
 
We both understood who you were
that day or rather who you would be.”

“And
just who am I?” I asked, never taking my eyes off the Book.
 
My Book.
 
A quiet peace settled over me.
 
It was safe.
 

“Open
it and find out.”

I
looked at him.
 
He gave me an encouraging
nod.
 
What could happen?

Everyone
who’s ever opened Pandora’s Box probably asked that same question.

My
fingers lightly stoked the velvety softness of the book.
 
It looked to be bound in leather, but felt
like the soft fur on the underbelly of a bunny.
 
It shivered under my touch, alive and breathing.
 
A book couldn’t be alive.
 
Could it?

I
opened it and stared at writing in a language I didn’t know.
 
I turned the pages and stared in amazement at
the intricate drawings.
 
Little notes
were scribbled here and there.
 
As the
pages flew by, the writing changed and soon the entries were written in
English.
 
It must have been around the
time Christianity was trying to stomp out Paganism.
 
I remembered that from our history
class.
 
Ms. Ferguson had just started
going over the rise of Christianity.
 
The
English language had started to become more dominant in that era.
 

The
spells and potions listed were fantastic and terrifying, everything from
soothing a headache to causing one’s enemy to rot from the inside out.
 
This was by far the most amazing thing I had
ever seen in my entire life.
 
Everything
I could ever want to know was in here…except the curse.
 
Emily had said she’d removed it.
 
Then I remembered Mr. Martin saying something
about checking it to make sure all the details were straight.
 
Did they not know she’d destroyed the
pages?
 
I was betting no.
 
He’d probably never even thought to check,
seeing as how the entire town had been just as crazy as he was about the
curse.
 

But
there was something that might be in here.
 

“Show
me Sara Bishop’s last spell the night I watched her burn.”

I
heard Mr. Warren’s shocked gasp, but paid him no heed.
 
The book’s pages fluttered and turned, coming
to rest at last upon an empty page.
 
Words inked themselves in as I watched.

Our Sara died last night.
 
She could not stop George from cursing us
all, but she did what she could to hinder him.
 
Here
lies her last words
as shown to me in a
vision.

“Daughter of Shadow,
Daughter of Light

Born not as one, but
as two, you will seek your path

Upon maturity

United, the curse
fulfilled,

Divided, the curse
shall fail.

Earth, Air, Fire, and
Water I summon thee to do my bidding,

Spirit, rend her
asunder so that what shall pass will

Forever
be
undone.”

She could not stop the horror, but she tried
to help the child we would betray for our own revenge.
 
The goddess Agrona desired a blood sacrifice
for her aide.
 
She demanded payment from
one of our own, the 13th bearer of life, born on the day of shadows and
light.
 
The girl must burn to relive the
horror of that night so those who died may find a way back to seek their
vengeance.
 
The flames and her pain will
be their beacon and her blood shall bind the returned souls together to form
the evil that will soar into the night and seek those who are of the same blood
as our betrayers.
 
Perhaps Sara’s efforts
will work.
 
Only the passage of time will
tell.
 

Our people are angry and hurt.
 
Their need for vengeance is a powerful
thing.
 
I understand it, but I cannot
share in it.
 
What was done to our
families and friends was a terrible thing, but if we do this, hold this curse
in our hearts, than we are no better than our betrayers.
 
We will do to a child of our own flesh and
blood what was done unto us.
 
We Bishops
will do what we can to stop this.
 
I have
sealed this book to all Coven members until a true Coven leader is borne unto
us again.
 
The others will only be able
to use the good in the book.
 
The darker
magic is bound from eyes that wish to use it for ill, except for the
curse.
 
Mayhap it will be enough.
 
I do not know.

We leave in the morning for a place called
North Carolina.
 
We are hopeful we will
be able to establish a village where we can be free to practice our magic.
 
But I am afeard.
 
The only ones going with us are the families
of the betrayed and those who were horrified at what the Coven had done to
us.
 
Anger breeds hate.
 
I am afeard their hatred will harbor for
centuries and breed a legacy of death and vengeance.
 
They will destroy their own because of their
hatred.
 

We will do what we can to stop this, but it
shall not be enough.
 
Sara may have torn
their souls asunder, but only one of them will have the strength of will needed
to stop this madness.
 
I have seen it in
my dreams.
 
I must warn the child.
 
I have cast my own spell.
 
She shall relive the burning in her
dreams.
 
It will serve as a warning to
her.
 
I pray someone understands it and
aides her.
 

The Fates are cruel at times, but perhaps
they shall decide to smile upon the girl.
 
I pray so.

Madeline Bishop

I
closed the Book and sat back.
 
I had my
answers.

At
least now I understood the curse and what Sara Bishop had done to try and stop
it.
 
Mostly.
 
That night in 1692, George Howe decided he
wasn’t going to take his fate lying down.
 
He cursed the members of his Coven who had betrayed them to keep
themselves from being named as witches.
 
He called upon the god Arwan and the goddess Agrona to help him cast a
curse.
 
The thirteenth daughter, or the
thirteenth bearer of life as they put it back in the day, born on Samhain,
Halloween, signified the thirteen who had burned.
 
Her blood would invoke the curse and give
their ancestors a way to come back and seek their vengeance.
 
Since the original betrayers were dead, their
descendants would suffer and die because of the curse.
 
Sins of the father and all
that.
  

Sara
did what she could to stop it.

Born not as one, but as two.
 

The
thirteenth daughter wasn’t me or Kay.
 
It
was both of us.
 
We’d always been
connected on some strange level.
 
Now I
understood why.
 
We were the same, our
soul torn in half when we were born to try and stop the curse from being
invoked.
 
Even if they killed one of us,
the curse would still fail as long as the other lived.
 

Madeline’s
vision showed her that only one of us would be able to stop the curse and she’d
given a warning to that child.
 
She’d
given it to me.
 
It had always been mine.
 
When my dad took it from me, it found the
other half of my soul—Kay.
 
That’s why
she had started to have the dream.
 
She
was never supposed to see it.
 
Maybe
that’s why it was so hard for her, why it almost killed her.
 
It all made so much sense now.
 
Except for one thing.

How
did Matthew fit into all this?
 
I really
needed to talk to Ethan.

“Mr.
Warren, thank you for giving me my Book.”

He
smiled,
his gray eyes almost silver with the warmth
that glowed within them.
 
They looked so
much like Ethan’s.
 
“You’re welcome,
Mistress.”

Mistress?
 
Uh, no.
 
Not going
there.

“No,
Mr. Warren, that’s a title I don’t want.”

He
laughed.
 
“Doesn’t matter what any of us
want, girlie.
 
The Fates decide our lot
and yours is Mistress.”

I
frowned.
 
At least I understood where
Ethan got his penchant for saying outrageous things.
 
“I really came to see your grandson…”

“My
what?” he asked sharply.

“Ethan…you’re
grandson.”

“I
don’t have a grandson, Mistress.
 
I never
married when things didn’t work out with my Suzie.”

“But
Ethan said you were his grandfather.
 
You
have his eyes…”

“What
did you say his name was?”

“Ethan
Matthew Warren.”

He
paled and grabbed the book, throwing it behind the couch.
 
Then he yanked me up and pulled me into the
hallway towards the front door.
 
I was
surprised the old man could move so fast at his age.

“Wait,”
I pleaded.
 
“What is it?
 
What’s wrong?”

He
stopped and turned to face me.
 
“You need
to run, child.
 
Run as far and as fast as
you can.”

“Cassie
Jayne won’t be going anywhere,” Ethan laughed from the now open doorway.
 
“Except with us.”

Chapter Twenty Six

I
stared at them in shock.
 
Kay, Billy,
and…Jeff all stood flanked around Ethan.
 
Fear twisted through me at their expressions.
 
Gone was the warmth and concern from their
eyes.
 
They all looked ready to
pounce.
 

It
was Ethan’s eyes that caught and held my attention.
 
Those beautiful gray eyes that had gazed down
at me last night with such love and passion were now cold and hard.
 
Their icy depths burned through me worse than
the remembered heat of the fire from my dream.
 
He watched me like a predator, ready to pounce and eat me alive the moment
I moved.
 
Eyes the color of a gathering
storm shattered my heart.
 
There was no
love there.
 
Only my
death.

“Ethan?”
I whispered, desperate to find some hint of his former self in those eyes.

He
smiled and crushed any hope I harbored.
 
Pain lanced me, a physical hurt that caused the air to leave my
lungs.
 
I wanted to throw up.
 
I knew he was lying about something, but not
this.
 
Damn you, I wanted to scream.
 
I couldn’t get it out past the knot of agony
that had lodged in my throat.
 
How could
I have been so wrong?
 

“Why
can you just never stay put, Cassie?” he sighed.
 
“I told you’d I’d come fetch you when it was
time.
 
Now you’ve gone and made this more
difficult.”

“You
don’t have to do this, boy,” Mr. Warren spoke up.
 
“She
don’t
deserve
it.”

“You’re
wrong, old man,” he said softly.
 
“I do
have to do this.”
 
Before I could blink,
he’d moved and grabbed hold of my arm.
 
Fingers that had caressed my skin with such gentleness the night before
now bit into it with bruising force.
 
“Come along, Cassie Jayne.”

I
hurt.
  
Everywhere.
 
Even with my mind reeling from shock and
pain, I knew I couldn’t leave with them.
 
I had to find a way to escape, but how?
 
I needed time to think and to do that I had to stall.